"JOSIE!" my mother yelps from downstairs, "Wake up already! It's the day before your first day!" I groan and roll over, soon to be sleeping again.
Faintly, but clear enough to comprehend, I hear my mother's feet stomp up the stairs. My body cranks itself up, and I fling myself like a frisbee out of bed.
I rush over to my dresser and open the bottom drawer to grab a pair of jeans, and then grab the knob above it to do the same gesture to grab a top. I hear a ripping sound, but am too tired to make any importance of it.
I hear three knocks on my door. "Come in," I say after practically falling multiple times. Who knew pants could cause such trouble?
"Hurry up!" she speaks in a motherly tone and is about to turn away, but hesitates. "Jos," she chuckles.
"What?" I run a brush through my brunette bob.
"You might want to wear a different shirt if you're touring the school today," she doesn't hold back her laugh this time. I set my brush down.
I can't help but smile at her bubbly chuckle, and turn to my mirror. My eyes widen and she continues to giggle as she walks out, and shuts my door. There's a giant gape in the left side of the shirt, revealing my grape-colored bra.
I laugh to myself and shake my head in disbelief; how could I be so oblivious?
I open my drawer again, and change to a silky turquoise shirt.
* * *
The warm breeze flaps my shirt like a bird
flaps its wings, and the sun presses a good mood into me as I
blankly twist my mouth from side to side. I gaze at the school
with the big glass windows on each side. As I do, I realize that
half of me is excited, but the other half is filled with pure
nerve. I hate being the new girl, there's always that feeling
like everyone is staring at you, or talking about you
Breathing in and out, I push my thoughts of
cliques, boyfriends, and drama away; I advance forward towards
the building. My flip-flops
slap the concrete as I descend towards the
I look at the glass in-front of me and pull
the handle, but of course, it's locked. Furrowing
my brow slightly, I bite my lip until I spot
a little black button next to me. I peer down to
admire the sand covered concrete, and gently press
"The door's open," a nasally
sounding voice comes out from the small machine.
I reach for the handle,
positive it would open, and jerk it back, but the same scenario
happens. It's locked.
I push it again. "Excuse me,
but the door is still locked," I slightly chuckle.
"Oh, right, sorry, I thought
you were the principal." a non-nasal voice points out, sounding
I shake my head in a
what-just-happened sort of way, and enter into the
Wooden tables are spread out
according to their size in the main room. Which I presume to be
the cafeteria. I continue on in the bright room, until my
pea-green eyes wander off, looking at murals on the walls, and
catching a colorful banner that says "Classes From the Past.". I
admire it for some odd reason, and like a magnet being pulled to
another, it attracts me. I slowly move my way around the tables,
trying to avoid the furniture, until I stand within feet of the
I giggle at the funny faces and
smile at the gold frame that's empty with my class' year at the
"Hello?" I hear a door creak
open. A boy comes out with white gloves on his
My attention turns away from
"Are you a new student?" He
"Yeah, I um, I was just looking
for the office, but I got distracted by the...painting," my voice
My face flushes red in
humiliation, but I notice he smiles and laughs for a short
"I'll show you," he says and
rips the glove's off of his hands, and then wipes them on his
I follow him down the quiet,
long hallway. Having no idea what to say, I avoid making it more
awkward by blankly, and carelessly gazing at the walls that are
masked with a sky blue color.
"So, what's your name?" he
breaks the silence.
"Josie," I can't help but
He smiles back and repeats my
name to himself.
"Are you still showing me where
the office is, because it seems like we've gotten a bit off
track," I say as we turn down a hallway that says "art, science
lab, cooking", all with arrows pointing in the direction where we
"Well, I was at first, but I
thought I'd get to know you first." he hesitates, but continues,
"See, I'm on the committee for showing new students around, and I
was just doing my job." he grins.
"Ah, well, that's cool, but it
seems as though the class period is almost over, and I should be
getting home soon. I really don't want to be introduced," I laugh
and scratch my head, hearing my charm bracelet, that I forgot I
was wearing, jingle.
"No worries, I'm in study hall,
and if you would rather me show you and let you be, it's right
down this hallway." he waves his hand in the following
I progress forward and we walk
in calm air. The silence came back like a bee returns to its
nest; it's promising, but you can never tell exactly when. As we
pass by the classrooms, I catch eyes looking at us, and all that
would be breaking the dead air, is the bell.
I smile to myself, but pick up
the fact that the students were leaving the rooms. Panicking
slightly, I rub my arm and ask him a question, rushing
"In that room," he
"Oh, is she new," a preppy
blonde walks out and searches me up and down.
"I have to go," I pivot away
and fasten my pace.
"Wait!" I hear him call out,
but my feet don't curve around.
My messenger bag punches my
right thigh as I advance down the hallway, until I notice a sign
that says "Office". I slide to stop, but do a double-take and
fall. I'm so coordinated it's not even funny. I think to
In the distance behind me, I
hear a laugh, but ignore it with my might, and stand up. After I
brush the dust off of my jeans, I fiddle with my hair until my
bangs have settled, and I reach for the handle.
As the door swings open, I feel
a small pain in my upper arm and cup my hand to fit around
"Hi," I say over the
"Oh," a small woman peaks her
head up, taking notice of me, "Are you...Ms. Taylor?"she
I nod my head and curve my lips
"Well, Ms. Taylor, here are
your assignments, schedules, and maps. It's not much, don't
fret," her British accent stands out.
I grab the thick packet, shout
a 'thank you' back, and leave Willow High.
* * *
"Dinner!" my mother's sweet
I set my pencil down on the
packet that's almost thin, and hop down the carpet
Once my socks press against the
wooden floors, I can smell a watery, buttery, garlicky sweet
smell that makes my nostrils want to dance. Pasta and garlic
"So, how was your guys' tour?"
my mother asks once we all settle.
My sister, Sofia, looks up and
gives me a sharp look, telling me to go first.
I roll my eyes at her, "It was
great, except the fact that I'm directionally challenged, and the
building's half the size of a football field," I point
My mother laughs along with my
"So, Sofia, how is middle
school? Since you were the new girl, today." the laughter stops
and my mother's head and mine turn to her blonde
"I'm not as clumsy,
accident-prone, or directionally challenged as you," I glare at
her, "but it was great, I already have so many friends." she
brags and flips her blue eyes.
To restrain myself from jumping
across the table and biting her, I take a piece of bread and make
a large indent in it.
"How are we related?" I set it
down and question my mother.
* * *
Moving my fingers and pressing
down hard, I brush.
"Eek, that sounded like a
screech owl," I talk to myself as I play a C chord.
I grasp my pick from my carpet
and strum the same note again; pressing down harder, and
strumming in the middle of the hole. In my head I think:
G, A minor, E minor,
Everywhere I'm lookin' now,
I'm surrounded by your embrace
Baby I can see your halo,
you know you're my savin' Grace
You're everything I need
and more, it's written all over your face
Baby I can see your halo,
pray it won't fade away.
I smile and continue to sing
until the song is over. So I start to strum random notes that
sound surprisingly great, even like it could be a real song. This
time, I'm thinking: D, A, C2, G.
The best part about guitar is
that there's not a wrong and a right, it's your way of saying
words that would sound stupid if you were to say them a
"Josie!" I hear my mother as I
I set my guitar back on its
stand, put my pick on my bedside table, and run my fingers along
the wooden railing until reaching the floor.
"Yeah?" I ask;
"Your father's on the phone,"
she hands the phone to me and kisses my forehead.
I put the phone to my ear,
thinking about why he's on the phone, rather than being here with
us. You see, my father's a music accompanist. He goes around the
world playing acoustic guitar for famous musicians. He teaches me
some notes, or sends me tips.
"Dad?" I wonder if he hung up,
since a loud buzzing sound was bursting out.
"Yeah, I'm here, sorry, it's
the waves. They're huge!" he laughs as I do, too.
"How's California?" I ask as I
pick at my callused fingers.
"Great! I'll hopefully be home
soon," he inhales like he was getting ready to say a long speech,
"I miss you guys so much, how's mom? She seems happy, but
"Yeah, she's fine, but she
misses you." I change subjects, "I'm starting school tomorrow," I
smirk to myself and yawn.
"That's good; you'll have to
inform me how it goes. I'm sure you'll do great." he
I laugh and hang up after a few
minutes and go upstairs.
I reach into my lowest drawer
and grab a pair of sweatpants and a loose T-shirt with guitars on
it. After that, I pull off my socks, since I can't sleep with
them on, and go into the bathroom. I start to sing "I Gotta
Feeling" while I brush my teeth, and I poorly dance around, until
I run into my towel rack and knock it over.
"Whoopsh," it sounds like as I
try to say "oops".
I rinse and pick up the
"Jos?" my mom comes in and
raises her left eye brow.
"I was trying to dance while
brushing my teeth," she chuckles.
"You can get it tomorrow," she
says and as I pluck the third one off the ground.
I climb into bed and flip
through channels until finding a good movie to fall asleep to.
Pirates of the Caribbean 3.
"Goodnight," my mom smiles
lightly and leans down, "Try to sleep, Jos, and remember that
tomorrow will be fine." she says and walks out.
I blankly stare at my ceiling for a few minutes, gazing at the stars and types of galaxies that I've had up there since I was born, but I turn my attention down to the screen and close my eyes.