Chapter Two:

 

I awoke to my dusty, old alarm clock. It hadn’t been used in years, but the blaring sound in my ears was very new to me. Although, it was better than the way the guards would wake us up in the morning at JUVIE. 

I groaned and toppled out of bed. I landed on the hardwood floor lazily, dragging the covers behind me. I considered just falling back asleep, but Mom’s voice outside my door forced me not to. 

“Halo!” she yelled. “It’s time for school!” 

Mom sang school in a much too cheery tone for my taste. 

I groaned once more and toppled over to my dresser, scrambling and throwing clothes everywhere in search of an outfit. By the end of it, I picked out a pair of acid-washed jeans with a shirt that might just fit me. Surprisingly, my size hadn’t changed in four years. They liked to keep us lean and strong at JUVIE, although it was against our wills. 

I got dressed quickly, not wanting to hear Mom’s happy-go-lucky tone again. I hastily pulled the top over my head. It was a little small, but I didn’t care. The jeans were much better than the ones I was given yesterday. These smelled like they were fresh from the washer. 

Was Mom washing my clothes all this time? 

Before I went downstairs, I slid into some worn-out sneakers by my door. They surprisingly still fit. I thought my feet had gotten bigger over the years. Once I had the shoes tied, I clambered down the stairs and met Mom in the kitchen as she scrambled some eggs in a pan. 

“Are you excited?” Mom asked as I sat down at the dining room table. 

Secretly, I rolled my eyes. “Sure,” I mumbled. 

“I saw that, Halo.”

After a few minutes, she sat a plate down of scrambled eggs in front of me. Before she sat down, Mom grabbed a lock of my hair and studied it. 

“Are you going to brush your hair out?” she asked. 

“I don’t know,” I said stupidly. 

“You’re going to brush your hair,” Mom concluded for me and sat down. 

Once I finished breakfast, I ran upstairs into the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror before I grabbed the brush. I looked like someone who had thrown up. But I felt fine. That was the strange part. My complexion was naturally pale, my eyes looked tired, and my hair looked like someone tried a perm in it and failed. 

Long hair is the worst, I thought to myself. 

Hurriedly, I grabbed the hairbrush and began to make rough strokes through my hair. It hurt really bad, but whatever made it appear smooth and perfect. When it looked somewhat like a regular person’s head of hair, I hastily braided it. The braid wasn’t neat and pretty, it was loose and was close to coming out. But, it was something. 

I walked downstairs as soon as I was finished. Mom met me at the bottom of the stairs and gave me a questioning look. I stared back and gave her an ear-to-ear grin. 

“Is that the shirt you’re wearing today, Halo?” she asked. 

“Yes,” I replied, not breaking eye contact and my smile never fading. 

Mom sighed. It was clear she was tired of my behavior. I thought I was being absolutely radiant, I reminisced sarcastically. “Let’s go,” she said. 

 

The ride to East Valley wasn’t as long as I’d anticipated. The whole drive Mom was listing the things I shouldn’t do. I found it a little insulting that my own mother was worried about me getting into trouble on my first day of high school. But at the same time, she was right to do so. I was like a firework ready to explode, or a free-range pony. 

“Don’t skip class, don’t call the teachers by their first name, don’t–”

“Mom!” I breathed. “I think I’ll be fine.”

We both knew that lie was as visible as light. 

Mom probably could have found other things to add to her list, but we already parked at the school. The building was huge but there were hordes of students coming in and out. Mom looked at me warmly, no longer cautiously. She squeezed my hand, which I had effaced of the bandages. 

“I love you,” she said. “I hope you have a great first day.”

I smiled and squeezed her hand in reply. “I love you, too.”

With that being said, I slung the backpack Mom pre-bought for me over my shoulder and exited the car. I took in the environment of the area. I could see girls clinging to their boyfriends, the jocks throwing footballs back and forth, and cheerleaders sporting their uniforms as they walked around. 

I inhaled a deep breath and walked toward the building. 

Within my first step inside East Valley, I could tell it was going to be hard to get anywhere. As soon as you entered the school, you were shoulder-to-shoulder with almost everyone. I was squished between two jocks bearing letterman jackets, but they didn’t seem to mind they were crowding me so much I could barely breathe. 

Finally, I escaped the mindless idiots and made my way to the principal’s office. All the students blew past me in a blur, scurrying to make it to their classes on time. I saw the door ahead of me and the sign vividly: Principal Brewer.

Once the crowd split, I made a mad dash to get to his office. I thought I was going to make it, but I bumped into someone and we fell to the ground, spilling papers everywhere from the person’s hands. 

The students were all gone by now: the floor was bare. It was only me and the person I crashed into. He knelt on the floor in a daze, rubbing the side of his head. His dark hair and freckled skin filled my vision. 

“Sorry,” I quickly muttered. 

He looked up at me, revealing bright blue eyes. “You’re fine.” He has a British accent. 

“I just…saw the crowd cleared and I decided I would try and make a run for it,” I joked, although I doubted he would find it comedic. 

He chuckled lightly at my attempt at small talk. “Like I said, no worries,”

“I’m kind of new around here. It’s my first day.” I said as I picked up his papers and started to stand. 

Holding his fallen documents, he stood and I saw how tall the person was I bumped into. He was at least six foot, whereas I was a solid five foot one. “I figured,” he replied. He then held out his hand. “I’m James.”

Hesitantly, I shook his hand. “I’m Halo,”

“Halo? As in the accessories angels wear on top of their heads?”

“That would be the one.”

James smiled at my remark, then it faded. His gaze shifted away from me as he walked aside. “Then I’ll leave you to…whatever you were doing, Halo.”

He almost turned down the hallway before he realized I still had a hold of his papers. James sheepishly turned around. Once he reached me, without saying a word, I just flashed him a “Mom Smile” and handed his articles back. Then, I was left in the hallway alone. 

I turned back to the direction I was originally headed to the principal’s office. I knocked on the door once, unsure of what to do. I waited a moment before entering, then I heard a “come in” and opened the door. 

There was a woman sitting at a huge desk when I first walked in. She sat in one of the fancy chairs you usually see at Office Depot. The woman quickly and quietly typed upon my entry, her eyeglasses reflecting the computer screen. I noticed as I walked closer to the desk that there was a sign resting on the front. It read: Mrs. Miranda.

Beside Mrs. Miranda’s desk were two chairs occupied by a pair of girls about my age. One of them had long, dark brown hair with subtle streaks of color. The girl wore all black, descending to her boots which had spikes. Have I seen her at JUVIE? 

The girl sitting next to her was practically the opposite. The girl on the right had long, pale blonde hair with lowlights. She wore a white, long-sleeved sweater with a bright orange miniskirt, along with black heels about the height of a pencil. This girl is a living and breathing Barbie. 

I stopped at Mrs. Miranda’s desk. She looked up at me almost like my mother would, except it was more comforting. “Hello, dearie,” she said. “What can I help you with?”

“I’m new here,” I replied. “Is this where I can get my schedule?”

“Oh, yes,” Mrs. Miranda told me. “Just wait here, honey. I’ll go fetch it for ya.”

The secretary hopped out of her chair and knocked on a door next to her desk. A low, masculine voice answered and told her to come in. The two of them had a conversation that was completely inaudible for me, but I thought I heard Mrs. Miranda refer to me as “the JUVIE kid.”

Once Mrs. Miranda finished talking with — I’m assuming — the principal, she handed me a singular piece of paper that had every single thing I would have to do every day for the rest of the year. I didn’t bother reading it: I would look at it some other time. 

“Principal Brewer says you don’t have to follow the bells schedule today, sweetie,” the secretary told me. “Annie and Lissa over there will give you a full tour of the school so you’re prepared tomorrow.”

I turned to face the girls sitting in the chairs. The girl — whom I’m assuming is Lissa — smiled so bright I was afraid she would break her jaw. The other — Annie — stared at me, her dark eyeshadow creeping its way to my soul. 

This is going to be great, I thought sarcastically.