First Day. No, Really?

I can’t tell this story without warning you about Chloe. Let me tell you know; She is a big part of this story, so if your allergic to Chloe, Do not continue to read this. I strongly caution you.

Chloe is your typical popular rich girl. Her idea of good luck is being the only person in Mondays’ homeroom. She’s rich, preppy, potty and downright mean!

I had just moved to Connecticut from New York. The sub-urban part of Connecticut.

When we stepped out of the car, I stepped into something green and springy. I looked down, I shrieked. My mom came up beside. “Its just grass Jenny.” “I know,” I squeaked, “But there’s so much of it!” My mom looked at me as if I had been secretly replaced by a kid named Jenny from Mars. She walked away mumbling, “Maybe there was a mistake in the nursery. Maybe some crazy woman switched my Jenny with her Jenny, and we ended up with totally different babies. Maybe…”

I wasn’t really paying attention to her because; by golly there was so much grass!

As soon as I got to Sub Seattle I knew I was going to hate it. I knew it! Here are the reasons why:

Grass. Too much grass. Way to much grass.

Transportation. No buses, No subways. Only expensive cars, bicycles and legs. When god was giving out techno-sense, where were they? Manicuring their lawns?

What happened to all the vintage stores? Oh, yeah. I forgot. Replaced by top-notch plaza malls and strips. What a shame, what a shame.

Private communities. Private communities? What the-? Forget it. I’m not even going to try to elaborate.

The streets are clean. That’s scary.

“Jenny why don’t you take a walk and get familiar with the neighborhood. You’ll be going to school tomorrow.” my mother said “tomorrow?” I yelled, “ We haven’t even been here for two days!”

“I’m sorry!” my mother yelled back “excuse me for caring about your education!”

“Fine, mom, whatever.” I said entering her cruel, cruel world of submission. “It would have to be.’ She retorted.

She could only make me do but so much, seeing as I’m the victim here. Instead of ‘getting familiar with the neighborhood’, I stomped to finish unpacking my boxes. I heard my mother sigh over the ‘thump-thump’ of my combat boots.

See, my best friend muddy and I formed this pack called N.B.O. It means “Never Be Ordinary”. Get it? That pack totally started with our rooms. I love my room. It’s a place where I can find peace when the T.V isn’t doing it for me. I can read, relax, listen to music, and even walk on the ceiling if I wanted to.

Back to reality. as I threw myself down on my bed, I started to feel homesick. I missed Muddy, Can, and Palo. I missed everybody, even the most annoying people that I have never liked.

But, I was in a new state, new town, and new environment. I needed to adjust, adapt, and make friends. But I was going to do it my way. My way.

First day of school. For me anyway. Nervous? No way. Excited? Sort of. Regretful? Definitely!

I am a very original person. Clothes are like an art to me. They’re not supposed to be like everyone else’s. To me, that’s like plagiarism.

SO, the first day of school, I wore a pink shirt, pink jeans that I personally died myself, and pink combat boots. (Totally cool right?) To modernize my outfit a little, I put on a pink rose headband and a white jean jacket. Perfect.

I grabbed my bag from beside my bed and slid down the fire pole. Oh, yeah. One important fact I forgot to include. We live in a refurbished firehouse, so we have the pole, the spiral staircase, the extra rooms, the tower(where my room is located), and the gigantic kitchen.

As I was saying, I slid down the pole, grabbed an apple of the counter, and yelled, “I’m gone, Mom!” “Have a good day, honey!” Oh how sweet! Not.

Walking out of the door, I put on my headphones, and put Fefe up on full blast, baby, ignoring the rest of the world.

People say I’m pretty. Not the self-explanatory pretty, the kind of pretty that stands out. I get allot of stares, and it gets annoying at times. Other times it pays off. I’m telling you, I’ve gotten myself out of allot of crap because of it. Whatever, I’m not trying to brag.

Anyway, I walked into the school, asked a stray kid where the office was, and headed for the destination. “Hi,” the secretary said, finally noticing me, “Can I help you?” “Yeah,”, I replied, “My mom registered me here a couple days ago, but I have no idea where I’m supposed to be right now.” “Oh”, she said with a cheerful smile, “ooookay, I think I can help you there. Name please?” “Oh”, I said “Jennyfer Kudrow.”

“um,706-Advanced chem..”, she stated in surprise, “advanced chem.?” I muttered, “yowzer” She handed me my schedule that she had graciously printed out and gave me some blue papers that she told me I had to give to each of my teachers.

“And,” she started to say as I walked away “try not to be too disturbing.”

I looked at her bewildered. She noticed my confusion and said, “check the mirror.” I smirked at her, finally comprehending what she meant, and she winked dismissively.

I walked stopped in front of the classroom labeled 706 and pushed the door open. When I walked in, everybody did a double take. ZI mean I cant blame them, seeing how I was the new kid and all, but it was still pretty uncomfortable.

I walked up to the adult in the front of the room who I took to be the teacher, and handed her the white paper. She looked at the paper then smiled at me and. “Class”, she said as she clapped her hands “New Student.” ‘Well that’s quite obvious’ I thought to myself, becoming irritated with the unnecessary introduction. “Jenny-for Kudrow.” I looked at her weirdly. “Um, its Jennyfer.” I corrected her “oh, excuse me.” She said “ Don’t worry about it.” The class chuckled quietly.

So, I’m walking to the only seat I see, when this girl I’m passing calls me a loser in sneeze language. She was one of those artificial people, sporting allot of make-up and sluttish clothes. Naturally, I retorted with a “Rich witch.” In sneeze language. The class laughed. The teacher asked if there was a problem, I said “no, just allergies”, with a small innocent smile. I looked at the girl and gave her a sly smirk, letting her know that I was no easy character. She rolled her eyes at me, as I laughed to myself because of her reaction. I know, I know, that’s not exactly the best way to start the year, but, hey! She started it!

I took a look around absorbing what I saw.

To the right-a kid who looked like he ate nails for breakfast and threw them up for dinner. To the left -a four eyed pimple face geek with no sense of style. You had to feel sorry for the guy. Up ahead of me- a girl who looked like she was about to cry-but never did. I didn’t catch a sight of anybody behind me, but I knew that whoever it was, would become very important. They had a certain air about them, I just knew.

The bell rang and it kind of startled me, but I looked at my schedule and saw that I had an English/lit block the next period. My favorite class. I love to read. People don’t understand it, but I do. You just need something to feed your imagination when you’re not using it. And the way my imagination works, it’s always hungry.