strap.
But it was more than that, too. I didn’t wear fancy
earrings. I didn’t carry around a nice designer bag. My hair wasn’t perfectly
styled the way all the other girls. In fact, I remembered putting my hair up in
a messy bun.
I finally found my locker after a couple of minutes
and proceeded to take the books I needed. A girl with perfectly straight and
smooth, red locks approached me. She had light skin and big, brown eyes. Aside
from that, her other features were small. She had a pleasant face.
“Why don’t I know you?” the redhead asked. Oh, by
the way, this school had about 300 students only, so everybody sort of knew
everybody else.
Why so exclusive? One: it’s for rich people. Two: if
you can’t afford the tuition you can opt to take an extremely competitive
scholarship exam. I passed the exam.
At the time it seemed like a good thing.
Now I wish I’d gone to Moores Mill High instead. Based
on what I knew from Google, it resembled Marrick more closely.
“I’m new here,” I answered as I closed my locker.
“You’re that scholarship student?” she guessed.
“Am I the only new scholarship student this year?” I
asked.
“Not a lot of people transfer over in their fourth
year,” she replied and then held out her hand. “I’m Abigail Carver.”
“Taylor Doctor,” I shook her hand.
“Your last name is ‘doctor’?” she checked, amused.
I nodded, “Yeah. And, no, my dad is not a doctor.”
Both of us looked up when the bell rang.
“Well, it was nice meeting you,” Abigail smiled and
began to walk away. “Are you okay getting to your classes on your own?”
“Yeah, I’m good. Thank you,” I waved. Then she
disappeared into a sea of blue blazers, and I was alone once again.
I probably should have taken the opportunity and
asked Abigail to show me where my first class was, not necessarily because I
didn’t think I’d be able to find it on my own but because I was in desperate
need of a friend right now.
Back in Marrick the only friend I really had was
Sarah Collins. She was prone to drastic mood swings – probably because of her
genius ability for the violin – but otherwise she was sweet. When she finally found
out that I was moving to Vroncourt (a school she religiously made fun of every
time the subject came up, which was exactly what delayed my telling her for so
long) she immediately felt indignant towards me. She thought I didn’t fight
hard enough against the decision and that I was leaving her. We haven’t spoken
since I broke the news to her.
Since we moved to Montrose Court, I’ve been only to
the two other households in the cul-de-sac that the people pretentiously call
the “Rose Circle”. If they were trying to be geometrically correct they should
have said the “Rose Semi-Circle”, but I assume they thought it didn’t sound as
good.
The house on our right belongs to the Randolfs. They
didn’t have any children. The house on the right of the Randolfs’ house was
that of the Andolinis. Their three children have all graduated from college and
live in their own homes. Our house was the smallest in the “Rose Circle”.
My dad invited both couples over for dinner the week
after we’d just moved in. My sister, Sue, and I (Oh, did I forget to mention
Sue, my sister who’s younger than me
But it was more than that, too. I didn’t wear fancy
earrings. I didn’t carry around a nice designer bag. My hair wasn’t perfectly
styled the way all the other girls. In fact, I remembered putting my hair up in
a messy bun.
I finally found my locker after a couple of minutes
and proceeded to take the books I needed. A girl with perfectly straight and
smooth, red locks approached me. She had light skin and big, brown eyes. Aside
from that, her other features were small. She had a pleasant face.
“Why don’t I know you?” the redhead asked. Oh, by
the way, this school had about 300 students only, so everybody sort of knew
everybody else.
Why so exclusive? One: it’s for rich people. Two: if
you can’t afford the tuition you can opt to take an extremely competitive
scholarship exam. I passed the exam.
At the time it seemed like a good thing.
Now I wish I’d gone to Moores Mill High instead. Based
on what I knew from Google, it resembled Marrick more closely.
“I’m new here,” I answered as I closed my locker.
“You’re that scholarship student?” she guessed.
“Am I the only new scholarship student this year?” I
asked.
“Not a lot of people transfer over in their fourth
year,” she replied and then held out her hand. “I’m Abigail Carver.”
“Taylor Doctor,” I shook her hand.
“Your last name is ‘doctor’?” she checked, amused.
I nodded, “Yeah. And, no, my dad is not a doctor.”
Both of us looked up when the bell rang.
“Well, it was nice meeting you,” Abigail smiled and
began to walk away. “Are you okay getting to your classes on your own?”
“Yeah, I’m good. Thank you,” I waved. Then she
disappeared into a sea of blue blazers, and I was alone once again.
I probably should have taken the opportunity and
asked Abigail to show me where my first class was, not necessarily because I
didn’t think I’d be able to find it on my own but because I was in desperate
need of a friend right now.
Back in Marrick the only friend I really had was
Sarah Collins. She was prone to drastic mood swings – probably because of her
genius ability for the violin – but otherwise she was sweet. When she finally found
out that I was moving to Vroncourt (a school she religiously made fun of every
time the subject came up, which was exactly what delayed my telling her for so
long) she immediately felt indignant towards me. She thought I didn’t fight
hard enough against the decision and that I was leaving her. We haven’t spoken
since I broke the news to her.
Since we moved to Montrose Court, I’ve been only to
the two other households in the cul-de-sac that the people pretentiously call
the “Rose Circle”. If they were trying to be geometrically correct they should
have said the “Rose Semi-Circle”, but I assume they thought it didn’t sound as
good.
The house on our right belongs to the Randolfs. They
didn’t have any children. The house on the right of the Randolfs’ house was
that of the Andolinis. Their three children have all graduated from college and
live in their own homes. Our house was the smallest in the “Rose Circle”.
My dad invited both couples over for dinner the week
after we’d just moved in. My sister, Sue, and I (Oh, did I forget to mention
Sue, my sister who’s younger than me
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