“Are you sure you want to go to school? We can wait if you’re not ready,” she said with a pained gaze in her hazel eyes. Her blonde hair fell to her shoulders and draped over her cheeks.

“Mom, Dr. Shaw said I’m ready to go back to school.”

“Do you want me to come in with you?”

I didn’t answer her right away; instead, I cast a vacant gaze at my new school, a tall brown bricked building painted with windows. Wide stairs led to three sets of glass doors, and just above them the words
Willowdale High
were written in big white letters. A tall oak tree stood amidst colourful leaves strewn across the grass. I observed all the students milling about, each in their own cliques.

“No, it’s okay,” I said as I unbuckled my seatbelt and bit my lip.

“Okay…well…have a good first day.” She gently touched my head with her hand. “Remember to check in with the doctor if you need to.”

“Yes, Mom. Stop worrying. I’ll be fine,” I said, shooting her a smirk as I stepped out of the car and closed the door behind me.

I’ll be here to pick you up after school,” she yelled out the window just before she drove away.
I really have to get my own car
, I thought.

As I paced into the school, I had a knot in my stomach. With the California breeze whirling around my long blonde hair, I trekked up the stairs and pulled open one of the double doors; immediately, the stench of bleach stifled my nose. Tall, angular stairs towered to the right, and faux leather couches sat to my left. I saw what appeared to be a library screened behind a row of tall windows and shelves of books across the foyer, which was occupied by students wearing designer label clothing.

In search of a bathroom, I roamed past the foyer towards the hallway. As I shoveled through the crowd of busy bodies, I spied the girls’ bathroom by a series of blue lockers. I dashed inside and went straight for the mirrors, where I gazed at my reflection as my blue eyes stared back at me. Flashes of my past invaded my head: the razor slashing my wrist; the blood oozing through my skin; the high I felt of feeling free, no longer forced to look at the same four walls for days…weeks…months...hidden away from the outside world.

Suddenly, my thoughts escaped me. I grabbed hold of my wrist and lifted my sleeve to look at the scars I’d left behind. I then ran my hands back through my hair, feeling self-conscious. I examined my petite frame in my blue jeans, pink hoodie, and pink uggs. Most of the girls I’d seen seemed so chic, and everything I wore was anything but. There were so many good looking guys, but I knew none of them would notice me. My old school in Deerwood, California, was much smaller, and most of the students there wore ordinary clothes. I had a group of friends and a
best
friend named Marisa. I blended in with everybody there, but here I was going to stick out like a sore thumb. Instead of a senior, I felt like a freshman all over again.

The bell roared, so I scurried out of the bathroom into the hall, where I saw everybody scattering to their classes like roaches running away from the light. Within minutes, the hallway looked abandoned. I slid my backpack off my shoulder and put it on the floor, then unzipped it and pulled out the class schedule I’d received during summer orientation. Seeing that my first class was English, I wandered down the Language Arts wing to look for the classroom.

Bleep
.

My Motorola screen glowed, and Mom flashed across the screen. Distracted by my mother’s incoming call, I accidently thudded into somebody, and my phone tumbled to the floor.

“Oh crap!”

“Sorry about that,” said a mysterious, deep voice.

I looked up, and his smile caught my gaze. His thick eyebrows complimented his deep blue eyes. His short chestnut brown hair was spiked and cut to perfection. He had a square-shaped face and a chiseled jawline. His straight nose was symmetrical to his full lips. Dark blue jeans concealed his muscular legs. He wore a black T-shirt with the words
True Blood
written in red and a pair of black and grey Nike running shoes. He reminded me of Taylor Lautner from the
Twilight
movies.

“That’s okay,” I said, grasping my phone as I stood up. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach.

“Are you new here?”

“Yeah…I just moved here, and today’s my first day.” I twirled a lock of hair between my fingers. “I’m just headed to my first class.”

“Looks like we’re both late.” He flashed a wry grin. “Let me take a look.” He gently took the schedule from my hand. “Oh, you have English first period with Mrs. Hill. I know where that is. Follow me.”

I would follow you anywhere
, I thought. I couldn’t help noticing he had a great butt, too.

I caught up to him as we walked through the halls. Most of the doors were closed, but a few were open. As we turned the corner, I could hear a teacher talking about functions. We stopped in front of a brown classroom door with a long rectangular window to the left. On the top right of the door was a small blue plaque with the number
201
in white letters.

“Here you go,” he said as he handed me back my schedule. “See you ‘round.”

“Thanks!”

And just like that, he was gone.

As I slowly opened the door, the teacher stopped talking and all attention was on me.

“You must be Hanna Clark,” the teacher said. I nodded my head. “Okay, please take a seat.”

I treaded to an empty seat, behind a girl in the first row with shoulder length curly brown hair and glasses. The chair felt rigid against my thighs. The teacher stood in the front of the class and waited until I sat down to continue talking. To my left was a large window with a view of the street. I sat there for a moment and watched as people got on and off the city bus. When I turned to my right, my heart skipped a beat; a girl dressed in all black was giving me a heavy stare. She looked like she could have stepped out of an
Addams Family
movie. Her long straight ebony hair emphasized how pale her skin was. She had on tight black jeans with knee high black boots and a black corset. As she looked at me through dark lined eyes, it felt like she was looking into my soul.

“I’m Brooke,” she said as her blood red lips formed a smile.

I sat back in my chair and crossed my arms over my chest, wishing I was invisible. I smiled back, then immediately looked away.

“Are you new here?” she whispered while the teacher murmured in the background.

“Yeah…I just moved here from Deerwood. I’m Hanna.”

“Where is Deerwood?”

“It’s a small town a few hours away from here.”

“Nice,” she said, nodding her head. I was fixated on her nose because it was pierced with a black hoop ring.

I took my phone out of my pocket and decided to text Marisa. We’ve been best friends forever, and I didn’t know how I was going to survive at this school without her. At my old school, we had almost every class together. We used to text each other, and we always had lunch together. I remember we always used to say we were going to be models and make lots of money. This one time,
Magamy Model and Talent Agency
came to our school because they were looking for promotional models for a new beverage called
Ace Soda
. In the end I chickened out, but Marisa went for it and ended up getting a job. I always thought she was pretty, with her long curly brown hair and hazel eyes. She’s five-foot-eight, one hundred and twenty pounds, and she has big boobs. I’ve always been a little jealous of her because my boobs are so small.

As I started to text Marisa about the hot guy I’d met in the hallway, Brooke whispered, “Don’t let Mrs. Hill catch you texting. She’ll bore you with a lecture and send you to the principal’s office.”

“Thanks for the warning,” I whispered back.

I looked up to make sure the teacher didn’t see me with my phone, then started to type; suddenly, I noticed I was being watched by a girl from across the room. She looked like she was going to audition for
America’s Next Top Model
. She had long brown hair with blonde streaks, and her eyebrows perfectly curved over her icy blue eyes. Her make-up was flawless. She wore a short plaid skirt and a tight pink button up wool sweater that showed off her tiny waist and big breasts. She also had on a pair of pink Manolo Blahnik shoes.

She shot me the evil eye as she put up her hand. “Uh, Mrs. Hill.”

“Yes, Claire?”

“The new girl is texting on her phone.” She looked at a couple of her friends, then looked at me, and all three of them laughed.

“Hanna, I know you’re new and you’re not familiar with the rules, but there will be no texting in my class. Do I make myself clear?” Mrs. Hill said.

I nodded my head and quickly put my phone back in my pocket.

“What a
bitch
,” whispered Brooke.

“I’m gonna guess she’s not part of the welcoming committee,” I quipped.

Brooke smirked. “That’s Claire Miller. She’s the Queen Bee of Willowdale High. All the guys want to date her, and all the girls want to be her...well, except for me of course. She hangs with her demon friends, Katie Parks and Jessica Stone. She’s going out with the most popular guy in school, Josh Banks.” She rolled her eyes. “They hooked up at one of Angela Blaine’s parties, and they’ve been together ever since.”

“Is there something you want to share with the class, Brooke?” the teacher asked sarcastically.

“Actually, there is. I think Claire has a yeast infection because she keeps scratching her vajayjay. Maybe she should go see the nurse.”

Claire shot her a deadly stare as the class started laughing. I couldn’t believe she just said that.

“Principal’s office now, Brooke!” yelled Mrs. Hill, pointing towards the door.

Brooke looked at me and winked before she gathered her stuff and left.

About forty minutes later, when I walked into my second period class, I was pleasantly surprised to see the hot guy I’d tumbled into that morning. Our eyes met, and for a moment everybody else in the room disappeared; the sound of the teacher’s voice soon brought me back to reality.

There was an empty seat behind my new crush, so I decided to take it. I slipped my backpack off my shoulder and got out my notebook and pencil case, then zipped up the bag and hung it on the back of my chair. I found myself staring at the back of his head. As the smell of his cologne drifted towards my nose, I got flutters in my stomach. Suddenly, he twisted around in his chair to face me.

“Do you have a...” He paused and gazed at me. “Hey…you’re…” He pointed his finger at me.

“Hanna,” I said. His smile was seductive.

“Right,” he replied. My palms began to sweat. “So…how did English class go?” I tried to stay calm despite the butterflies swirling all through my stomach.

“It was…interesting.”

He smirked. “Yeah.” He scratched his eyebrow. “Mrs. Hill can be a real ball buster sometimes.” I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear and giggled. “I’m Josh, by the way.”

“Nice to officially meet you, Josh.” My heart flip-flopped.

“Anyway, you got a pencil I can borrow?”

“Yeah…sure.”

I unzipped my pencil case and searched for an extra pencil. When I found one, I handed it to him.

“Thanks.” There was that smile again; geometry just became my favourite subject.

***

Third period, I had geography. The classroom was drab, with a musty smell. I took a seat next to a chubby girl with a round face and pinched nose. She looked like she was pissed off about something. Our teacher was a scrawny little man with a comb over. He wore round tortoise shell glasses and had a long nose. I glanced at the blackboard, where he’d written
Mr. Milner
in white chalk. I started thinking about the series of events that forced me to change schools, the awful things I did to Simon; I could still hear the ear-piercing shatter of glass in my head.

The teacher slammed the class door shut, which snapped me out of my thoughts.

***

Since I didn’t have any friends, I ended up eating lunch alone. I sat on the floor and nibbled on the tuna sandwich my mother had made me. My mother still makes my lunch; to her I’m a fragile object, like a broken vase that was glued together but may fall apart at any moment.

After I finished my lunch, I studied my schedule. A couple of rowdy guys walked by and tossed a football back and forth to each other. Chemistry, Family Studies, and World History; my afternoon classes were in that order.

***

By the time the last bell rang, my head was spinning. I felt so out of place at this school, like I’d shown up at a party I wasn’t invited to. I sat on the steps outside the front of the building and waited for my mom to pick me up. A couple girls stood behind me, talking about a teacher they didn’t like. As one girl passed me on the steps, I recognized the long raven hair and black boots; it was Brooke.

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