Kaycie: Chapter One Part OneMature

I have never been a part of the popular crowd. My life, like most, isn’t a lavish one with butlers or tiara’s. We may not have a vacation house, or a cabin to runaway to when normal days grow boring, or when the weather turns bad. But my life is far from a tragedy. I mean sure, most of the time, we live paycheck to paycheck but, that is more of a choice rather than a necessity. My father, Roy Hemlock, is a renowned restaurant flipper, and marketing superstar. He can take any place, big or small, near bankruptcy or already a five star wonder, and make them bigger, and better than before.

Sometimes it can be as easy as an overnight miracle but, for the majority it takes a month or two –or twelve, to fix. We spend more time traveling on the road than most people do in their entire life but, I am not complaining. I’ve become immune to being the new girl, in fact, sometimes I relish in the idea of it. My life is one of never having to worry what others may think of you because, in a few months, you may never have to see them again.  Sure it makes dating and having friends a whole lot more complicated but, I wouldn’t change it for anything in the world.

“Class, excuse me! Can I have your attention please?” Mrs. Price, my new English teacher, says shortly after the tardy bell had ended. Her russet colored curls falling around her face, as she stands and moves toward the center of the whiteboard where I wait ready to be introduced. This is often the hardest part about being new, and the most crucial too.

At some schools, introducing each new student is viewed to be a wasteful act. Why take time with drawn out explanations of how each of us came to be at that place, at that time, when you could be learning about something that is essentially important? Whereas in others, new students are either at such a rare comradery, or an easy form of distraction to which they like to spend as much time as they possibly can until, in the end, they basically know your whole life’s story. I settle my hands comfortably against my sides, shift my stance so that most of my weight is on my right foot, and stare out into the sea of curious faces.

I could tell from the moment I first arrived, and by all of the expressions that followed, this was definitely a share your life story kind of school. Which, I don’t mind. These are the ones I prefer. In fact, in more ways than not I’ve found that the others, where you think learning would be more of the main focus, those often end up being the ones where cliques and drugs are more predominant. Call it stress or whatever you like but, I’ve seen it first hand and it’s never a pretty sight.

The End

0 comments about this story Feed