Alexis ran her fingers through her thick mass of curly dark locks one more time. She examined herself in the mirror. Don’t worry; she calmed herself, you’re going to make friends. She tried to take in three deep breaths to calm her, like her mom said she should do when she got nervous. She inhaled too deeply and got dizzy. So she studied her outfit again, bottom to top as always. Shoes, Red ECKOS, an aqua bubble skirt from American Eagle Outfitters, an emerald green graphic tee from Hollister that matched her eye color almost perfectly, her lucky silver locket with her grandfather’s picture, slight blush, her deep emerald green eyes, and her semi curls. They were pulled back into a messy bun in the middle of the back of her head . She stared into her 5’3” reflection and slightly cocked her head to the right, it was a trick she used that helped her view herself from somebody else’s perspective. She looked more like an eighth grader than a sixth grader. She put more blush on to look younger. Now she only looked like seventh grader. That’ll have to do, she sighed.
“ALEXIS!” hollered her mother, who was in a hurry.
“COMING!” she screeched back, touching up her shimmery pink lip gloss. She grabbed her dark green monogrammed messenger bag backpack, ran downstairs and slammed the screen door shut.
“BYE MOM!” she shrieked as she walked through their lawn. The crisp summer turning fall air felt good on her cheeks. She subsided to a walk once her house was out of sight. She just moved into the city, she used to live in Pinecrest, but over the summer her, and her parents moved into Clyettesville. She didn’t know anybody, or anything about her new middle school, except the name. Thomas Edison Middle. How boring she thought. The mascot was an Alligator. The Edison Alligators. Still boring. She sighed, more than anything she wanted to be accepted, make new friends. Her biggest fear was where she would sit at lunch. She did not want to feel like a loser beyond repair, sitting alone and being alone all day. She missed Elle and Claire from back home. She felt her locket. I can do it for grandpa, she comforted. Both her grandparents died in a plane crash when she was three months old, and she inherited the locket. She felt some sort attachment to it. Like an invisible force. Suddenly the unmistakable sound of middle schoolers came into earshot. She changed her pace to a slow power walk as she went into the schoolyard. She tried to think confident, so she wouldn’t look shy, or nervous. But she had no confidence. She saw a group of friendly looking brunettes. They were all laughing and talking. She decided to stand by them and wait for the school to open. She looked around. They school looked nice, sorta. She tried to walk to the door without messing up the manicured lawn. But, It was so crowded and she kept bumping into people. “SCREW YOU!” or “MOVE” floated above the noise as she tried to walk through clusters of people without being noticed. Then the bell rang and all the clusters started stampeding in. She pulled her homeroom card out of pocket. Mister Rooter, Room Five. She tried the inhaling technique again as she passed rooms one, two and three. She fluffed her hair as she passed room four. Then she lifted up her shoulders and walked into room five. She looked around for a seat. She noticed an empty desk, next to a boy with shaggy dirty blonde streaked hair. She sat down and pulled her binder out of her messenger bag.
“Hey” he greeted her.
“Hey.” She said back
“You new here?” he questioned
“Yup. Moved here this summer, I used to live in Pinecrest.”
“I can show you around if you want.” Her belly did a flip flop. She eyed his Abercrombie&Fitch clad body. His navy polo and his brown plaid shorts.
“That’d be great.” She smiled.
“No problemo,” he cracked a smile too, revealing two rows of never need braces, crest white strip teeth, “Let me see you schedule”
“Umm here it is,” she fumbled around in her pocket for it, “found it!” she reached over to give it to him but accidently dropped it on the floor. They both leaned over to get it, but on the way down their eyes met. His were navy blue, deep as the ocean, but prettier.
“I got it.” He said, politely.
“Thanks.” She answered, leaning back up to her seat.
“We have periods 3,4 and 7 together.”
“You forgot one!” she teased. He eyed the schedule again.
“oh, by the way whats your name?” she giggled
“Drew, what about you?”
“What’s your middle name? Mine is Logan”
“Michelle, what’s your last name?”
“Alexis Michelle Briar, I like that.”
“Drew Logan Michaels, that’s ok…”
“My real name is Andrew, if that helps.”
“Andrew Logan Michaels, much better.” The homeroom bell rang, signaling the start of homeroom and an end to their conversation.
“Good Morning, I am Mr. Rooter, Welcome to 6th grade. Middle School.” Alexis took in a breath, sunk into her seat and let it out. This was going to be a long day, orientations to classes and teachers all day. Boring! She sighed.
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