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“They have uniforms,” I grumble, cringing at the dark blue skirt that comes to the knee, pale blue shirts, black tie, and suit jackets to match the skirts. Though not all girls are in skirts, some are in pants like the boys and I’m surprised when a boy walks by in a skirt.
It seems to be rather progressive for a Catholic-named school. Either that or he lost a bet and the teachers haven’t spotted him yet.
“Pull down your hood,” Stanley orders. “And spit that wad of gum out.”
I curl my tongue and spit the gum into the grass, smiling at him in a way that infuriates him. Then I yank down my hood enough to show the twist of blonde hair at the base of my skull.
“There’s no point in this. You’re wasting money on sending me here.”
They both ignore me as I trail behind them, eyes on the students whose eyes are all on me. As is usual for any new kid.
I haven’t been the new kid many times because for a lot of my life I haven’t been in school. Not that I didn’t get an education… it’s just complicated.
Neither of them speaks. They gave up speaking to me during the journey here. They kept asking me questions about my life thus far, like they think I have a ton of happy stuff to gab about.
Not that I’m depressed but conversation leads to attachment, and as I’ve said many times, I am not going to be here for much longer.
Blowing a breath out of my nose, I twiddle my lip ring with my finger and thumb until Lane gently pats my wrist. She doesn’t even look at me as she does so.
“Habit,” I murmur, scowling at a dark-haired guy who whistles at me as I pass. I hate it when men… or more aptly boys give me that smarmy appraising look like they’re picturing me naked. It makes me feel sick. “NEW BLOOD ON THE BLOCK!”
“I will kick you in your tiny dick,” I reply, stepping towards him but Stanley grabs my hood, keeping me back.
Stanley glares at the boy who just salutes him and laughs as he runs off and even more people start whispering about me.
We enter the front office and I’m relieved to put the grounds behind the door. It makes me feel less open.
This place is old but painted new. The building itself is large but not as large as my last school. There looks to be plenty of kids so it’s not a small school by any means.
“This is the school Stanley attended,” Lane whispers in my ear as the military guy I distrust starts reacquainting himself with the aged principal. “Mr. Jefferson used to be our math teacher back in the day. He has since moved up in the world.”
“So you’d think,” I murmur to myself, looking through the glass windows at the courtyard. A couple of people cup their hands against the glass to see inside. I feel like slamming my hand against their noses, hopefully startling them. I snigger at the thought until Lane gives me a little nudge.
I realize that Mr. Jefferson has his hand extended.
“S’up, teach?” I say stupidly and shake his hand.
Surprisingly he replies with a smile. “S’up, homie?”
I decide then that he might be alright.
“I already apologized in advance for her manners,” Stanley reminds the kindly older man.
I give him an incredulous look. “Don’t apologize on my behalf.”
“Then use good manners.”
I look at the teacher. “Can I start right now?”
The man smirks, lips twitching and eyes alight with humor. The bell rings overhead and somebody is called for over the speakers but I lose interest and stop listening.
“Don’t,” Stanley warns the man cryptically but Jefferson just chuckles and leads us out into the almost empty hall.
“So, this is St. Peter’s Catholic School of Fine Arts,” he announces so loudly it echoes off the walls. “I attended this school as a child, I worked here as a teacher, and now I run it as the principal.”
“You’re not bored?” I ask, quirking a brow as we turn down another hall.
“Sometimes,” he admits. “But I’m usually too busy for boredom to bite.”
My eyes scan the trophies in the glass cabinets. There are so many, some for cheerleading, basketball, chess, dance, acting… so many. I’ve never seen so many trophies.
“We have a broad range of activities here. I find a busy teen is a happy, well-behaved teen.” We stop at the largest trophy in the center, I expected it to be for football but it’s an inter-state trophy for highest grades in Louisiana. There’s another further along which is tall but narrow with many pillars, that’s for dance. I wonder who won that. It’s got to be from the international Dance Xtra competition for high schools. “Is there anything you’re interested in, Miss Newman?”
