The Big Bang

Chapter 2 - The New School

I climbed up the stairs with heavy feet and a slouching posture. The walls were decorated here with peach wallpaper and wavy lines that resemble summer at the bottom. It looked lively.

At the second floor, there were only two rooms. The master's bedroom and my room. The oak door make a creaking sound when I opened it. As I did, a rural, earthen smell welcomed me. It was mixed with the aroma of a garden. It smelled nice.

The walls were not decorated, only plain, light blue. There was a large bed beside the window, a pink-flower decorated mini closet, a standard quartz clock, a tall bookshelf, and a door that leads to the bathroom. It was spacious, with a large rug in front of the entrance door. The glass window was pleasantly large. It was now showing the night stars as they twinkled like glitters in the dark, sleepy sky.

I quickly jumped on top of the bed, which groaned in response. It was comfortable, without being too soft or hard. It had four feather pillows. I will definitely add my favorite purple pillow and teddy bear here.

I looked outside the window to gaze at the stars more. As I did, a cool breeze of freshness and aroma welcomed me. I can easily see Orion from afar, which looked like a guy readying to take aim with his bow and arrow. And, as expected, I quickly took a picture of it. It came out looking very dreamy, with the stars easily being seen. It had a purple overall color, which was further accentuated by the barely visible clouds and the absence of any obstruction. The lack of city lights and modernization paved the way for the stars to be easily seen. It was wonderful knowing that I can see it every night.

On the bottom part of the window view was the garden. It was simple, because only small flowers grew. Periwinkles, daisies and tulips can easily be seen with only the dim light of the porch bulb to be lightened up. Dad will love to stay on this side, I can already tell. Beyond it was the tree fence, which were great pines that cover the sight from inside and outside.

This was the moment that I realized that our home was magnificent in its own right, a humble wonder of stars, flowers, and rural simplicity. It was a good thing to move away from the city, after all.

And as I lay in my bed, I wondered about the outcomes of tomorrow. Of course, the terror of coming in the middle of the first quarter of the school year, with it being a small town and the fact that they already know each other came to me. It wasn’t a problem to have a bad reputation, but I only wished that I can have friends at least. Only the most basic will do. My New York buddies were fun, wacky, party-freaks that were barely contained, and I hope to see a fraction or a piece of them in another group of people here. Although we had the reputation of not caring and being noisy, we were happy, and that was as simple as what I was looking for.

I breathed heavily, positioned myself to my comfort, and carried my thoughts to my sleep. Dreams carried me away from it, as I fell into a peaceful slumber.

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I opened my eyes to sound of birds chirping.

It was now 5:40, way too much early for me. Miraculously, I did not have a heavy head like I usually have when I wake up. It must have been the early sleep and the peaceful setting. My alarm clock was set for 6:20, but I woke earlier than it.

I yawned, stretched, and rose up from my bed. I decided to take full bath to celebrate the moving in.

The bathroom smelled of aromatic soap that had a tinge of lemon in it. There was a shower, a toilet, sink, and a basic white tub. I undressed and opened the hot water. It was steaming hot.

I opened the closet above the sink and found toiletries already there, probably left by Mom as I was asleep. I took the basics.

I was quickly awakened as I lay in the tub. That was the exact moment that I realized the whole situation that I was about to be in. A new student? In a small town? Who doesn’t know anyone and is a former city girl?

Given my former-party freak friends that I never joined on their parties but hanged out with, I can find another group of people like them here too. Fun, carefree, and basically only acquaintances.

But I also liked sports, especially soccer so I can find those people too, and be one of them. Or maybe I can embrace my literature side and hang out with the literary group. Anything, really. It was the last year of high school anyways, and nothing mattered more than getting to a good college and basically not messing any of your subjects. Friends can be second in line.

I layed there until 6:30 am. I exited the room and prepared my outfit for later.

Finally, after much deliberation with my inner psyche and social abilities, I put on a simple t-shirt with an oversized flannel shirt and simple short pants. I looked nice, but not too much. I gave the impression that of being simple. I picked a simple small bag and matched a simple, violet bracelet.

“Mom, I'm ready.” I say. The boxes were everywhere in the living room, except on top of the sofas and the living room table. Mom was texting someone in the phone.

“Yep, get on your car now.” She says busily.

I made my way outside and found the sun rising, with it being cold. A cool breeze passed by me and my oversized shirt went in its direction.

I rode on my beat up car, which was driven yesterday by one of the movers to our house. It contained the some boxes, which was why they made me ride on Mom's car. I started the engine and drove with a happy, acoustic song filled with lyrics of love and optimism blaring loudly on the radio.

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Based on the map given to me, one right turn after this long road will be the school. The road was filled with houses and playgrounds. The houses were mostly bungalows, choosing functionality over design. Most of it was made from dark, brown wood. They had different paints, with a beige ones, fuschia ones, and even light blue ones. It was pleasing to look at, but mainly boring. The sun was still not fully awake, with its yellow-gray light now revealing itself for everyone to see. I looked at clock on my car. It was not 7:20, ten minutes before class.

I inhaled a generous amount of air to ease my nerves as I entered the school's parking lot. A lot of the cars here were vintage ones too, with the occasional modern brands. The contrast between them was evident, for the vintage ones like mine tended to look longer and sharper on the edge, with the modern ones having a sleek design with round edges and mostly black or gray paint.

I parked beside a red Elvis BMW and a modern, black car. This was it now. With jittery nerves and unstable breath, I stepped out of my car and took my bag. I closed my eyes for two seconds and closed the door.

The breeze was cool, with most of the parking space decorated with flowers. It seemed like making every vacant space a garden was the primary goal of the town. Not that I was complaining.

The lot was crowded, with people in groups talking and laughing. Instantly, a surge of stereotype cliques walked before me.

Wearing the oversized checkered polos, the hats, and the baggy shorts, I can already see the junkies. The red eyes, the calm expression and the sleepy smile. One of them whizzed by me and I smelled an odor of something I shouldn't smell.

A group of girls in too-flashy clothes and inappropriately explicit wardrobe stood by a pink-Porsche. Three girls, one with tan skin and blonde hair were talking loudly, obviously inconsiderate of the time. They definitely didn't look like the academic type.

I walked lightly on the gravel of the lot to enter the school. There will be more time, after all, to see more stereotypes later at lunch.

As I went in front of the school, a large BEDFIELD SCHOOL in dull, silver letters were shining above me, in boring letters and the most plain of floral designs for the large wooden plaque. A bird's nest can be seen from my point-of-view, which was already used by three little birds of varying sizes. Maintenance didn't seem to bother wildlife.

The front of the school, carrying the large plague, had two Roman pillars for support, with basic white lines vertically placed in it.

I entered the corridor with light steps. Room 3-A was my first room, for Science. An instant dose of biology would be the way to go for me, then. Science is fairly interesting for me, knowing how literature correlates with Science's wonders. What sparks literature is Science and what gives Science sparks is literature.

Before climbing the third floor, I looked for my locker, which was number 214. I jangled the keys that my mom gave me earlier. I had decorated it already with a purple-eyed panda bear keychain, to show my love for bears and purple.

It was quite spacious, so I was able to insert all of my stuff except for a ball pen and a handy notebook. The pen had a purple feather on its tip. The notebook had a simple leather casing and 200 sheets. I was now armed and ready for class.

I climbed and made my way up to the third floor in a dizzying flight of stairs, with the occasional bumps and “sorry" with the other students. One even laughed at me when I bumped into him.

I observed the room from outside. The door was simple and office type. The room had a large glass window from the corridor, and I assume, also for outside on the opposing wall. It was covered with blinds though, because class was ongoing. I opened the ice-cold door with trembling hands.

Instantly, a huge swarm of eyes from onlookers and strangers looked at me, like piercing sparkling icicles that gave me chilling stabs to my heart. I gently closed the door and looked for a seat. Some noisy conversations faltered for a bit to observe the new girl in town. I prepared for this and I was ready to make a decent reputation.

I gave off a confident posture, as to not make all of this embarrassing. I was scouting the area from left to right, looking for any sight of refuge. My eyes went for the first row, occupied. Well then second row might be good, but it was also occupied. It went on until I finally looked at the back row.

On the back row, a dark-haired guy sat and stared at me as other people began to lose interest for me, a lost blonde puppy. He was wearing a simple purple shirt with a gray hoodie. He had mid-length curly hair, not too short to be simple, not too long to look feminine. It reached his neck.

His features were rough and charming, his nose nicely sharp and round at the tip, his lips tight, and his jawbone subtly showing. His apples were very evident from his raised neck as he supported it with one hand. He was a swimmer type of beauty, a gleam of sun in his skin and a bit of manner in his eyes.

He must've noticed that I was looking because of a smile he returned me. He was making fun of me, I'm guessing.

“You can take the seat beside me.” He finally said, with a pause at the end, with expectant eyes and a subtle smile. He must have observed my lack of seating options.

Taking a seat with a guy I met for the first day?

“Oh-kay”I said in sing-song. So much for playing hard. He was wearing purple so that means he was nice.

I quietly took a seat that he pulled, with him trying to be a gentleman. A wolf in a sheep's clothing, maybe?

As I sat, some of the onlookers looked at me with subtle smiles. A guy who just arrived pat the dark-haired guy's elbow, which meant approval of some sort. What have I gotten myself into? He doesn't talk with the group of people that the newly-arrived guy talked to. I did not know if this was his group of friends or if he was simply approved to give tribute to the guy-code (which I was completely informed of by my former friends in NY). With my obvious non-rejection of his moves and obvious motives to be liked, I was putting myself in dark, murky waters.

Nothing would hurt me if I make a favorable introduction anyways.

We waited for five minutes before a balding man of short stature, brown suit, blue ties, and grumpy face entered the class. His suit was cleanly pressed. His hair was styled straight, the shiny gel clinging on the tiny strand left by age.

“Good morning, class.” He says, as we all reply, with them calling him Mister Stone. He smiles in reply.

“Attendance. Zucchini?” With this, a tan, lean girl wearing a cardigan and a puffy pink skirt stood up, an attendance sheet in hand.

The ritual of calling names began. America, Auburn, Beige, and so on and so forth. I learned that the last name of the guy in the last row was Ledge.

“Oh, and everybody, we have a new student.” Mr. Stone says, in a tone of matter-of-fact. This immediately made me alert. Introductions it is then. I’ll be doing this for seven classes this day. Ugh.

“Kindly introduce yourself.”

I stood up grudgingly and fixed my posture. I was confident and ready. I walked up to the front of the class with the atmosphere of calm and stability. I silently breathed an air of coldness and nervousness. This was it. It’s either I do this or normally or I fess this up.

I opened my mouth and said, “My name is Odee Sundane and I came from New York. We came to Bedfield to move houses because we were evicted from our former apartment. It's nice to meet you all.”

It came out bland, boring, and totally devoid of any facts at all.

“Is that all?” Mr. Stone asks with a high-end tone.

“Yep.” I reply. That was all they need to know, right? I am so not up for public speaking. This is not a forte and will never be one.

Mr. Stone thought for three seconds, making his forehead wrinkle, before saying, “Tell us something interesting.”

I looked at the doorknob, that shining silver piece of cold metal. It was salvation waiting for me. I shouldn't have opened the door to my demise. What was it with public speaking and teachers and dark-haired guys that made me so nervous? Speaking of which, he was looking at me now. I wanted to punch the soul out of that guy already. I immediately pressed my fists together.

What don't they know? The fact that I play soccer? Or is it the photography? Or is Hog? My dog that died in our apartment because of heart attack? This was all confusing.

After a while of thinking, I answered.

“Well, I mainly do photography with a wide range of topics. Also, I play soccer for a sport. My favorite food is pesto. I had a dog once that died.”

Well that was excellent, except for the food and dog part. Way too much information, I guess. But do they do have to get a hint that I loved dogs. It's rural anyways to so I'm pretty sure there'll be a lot of animal opportunities and space here. They'll love that statement, for sure. Or at least I'm assuming.

“That's nice! Do you also take photographs of yourself? Seeing today's narcissism and such?” Mr. Stone replies rhetorically with a laugh. I took that as a cue to sit. What was it with elders and their need to berate us? I get it, they hate narcissism and such, but weren't they the older generation that gave them easy lives anyways?

As I dragged my chair and sit heavily, Ledge pats me on the head and says, “I want to say condolence for your dead dog” with a snicker.

Asshole. I fixed my posture and took notes about Fish Physiology. My fists were all heated up now.