another soul in the form of a tall, blonde-headed girl with denim capri pants, a tight button-down white shirt and a light hoodie. I approach her for directions at the same time she turns and notices me.
"Hi," I say, giving a half wave and a half smile. "I'm new here and have no idea where I'm headed. Perhaps you could tell me where to find Archer Hall?"
She doesn't answer right away. I can see her mind working as she studies me and I immediately know I'm dealing with school royalty. My jeans are tattered at the bottom, I'm wearing a black Ramones t-shirt, a green hoodie that's no where near as classy as hers, and dark gray Vans. I already know I'm screwed and I glance around for alternative help. I grew up with Darla so I'm familiar with how royalty works. I've never sought it and my disdain for it hangs on to me like stink on fish. There's no washing it off. I can't fake it.
"It would be the building over there," she says pointing to one diagonally across the green from us. It could be or it could very well not be. I don't know if she's telling the truth. Her voice is reluctant and condescending and there's a small laughter in her words that would make a more impressionable girl frantic that she was already failing at not fitting in. She's finished her judgment of me and it's not good.
But I'm a bigger person and I just give her a quick nod and say, "Thanks" before fishing my headphones out of my backpack and turning up my Discman.
"Headphones aren't allowed on campus," the girl says to me as I put them on.
"Luckily, I'm new here. I'm not aware of that rule." I head in the direction of the building she pointed me to.
"I just told you the rule!" she calls out and because I can't help it, because I can't quite wash the stink off me, I turn around and walk backwards as I point to the headphones and mouth "I can't hear you."
Birdie
The first couple of classes are typical. The building I was directed to was indeed Archer Hall. The classroom is empty so I find a lone desk devoid of stuff and drop what little I have in my backpack to claim the space. An eraser and a sheet of lined paper. I then find Astronomy and finish the hour, relieved that the class is covering material I've already mastered at my last school. I file out of the room, glad that I wasn't subject to the first day introduction teachers love to do at the beginning of class.
Like a herd, the students move to lunch so the cafeteria is easy to find too. I pull out my packed lunch of cold toast and cheese and apple slices with peanut butter. Tim hasn't had time to do a full shopping trip and I had get creative with my choices.
I choose a table in the corner that's isolated without doing the traditional scan to scope the place out. I don't need a scan. I'm a woman with a mission and it doesn't include making fast friends so I have someone to pal around with for four months before I split.
It's probably why I'm surprised when a tall girl with a jet black ponytail plops down at my table. Another tall specimen. Does this school have a height requirement? Her eyes are steel and striking and she widens them as she takes me in. Another assessment. She also reeks of royalty but something is off. Her pouty lips, slim figure, and blank tank top with a cropped button down over it fits the bill in terms of attractiveness. Her confidence fills up the empty table. Definitely a popular native. She's finished looking at me and is now surveying my lunch, her lips turning down thoughtfully as she nods.
"Interesting," she says, noting my nourishment.
"It's what was on hand," I say, biting into an apple slice. I can feel the peanut butter smear in the corner of my lip and my eyes never leave hers as I get it with my tongue. She just watches me back. What could she possibly want?
She holds out her hand for a handshake. "I'm Lacey."
Suspiciously, I shake it. "Birdie."
"I know. I'm your guide. For one of seven black kids in this school, you were kinda hard to find."
I
"Hi," I say, giving a half wave and a half smile. "I'm new here and have no idea where I'm headed. Perhaps you could tell me where to find Archer Hall?"
She doesn't answer right away. I can see her mind working as she studies me and I immediately know I'm dealing with school royalty. My jeans are tattered at the bottom, I'm wearing a black Ramones t-shirt, a green hoodie that's no where near as classy as hers, and dark gray Vans. I already know I'm screwed and I glance around for alternative help. I grew up with Darla so I'm familiar with how royalty works. I've never sought it and my disdain for it hangs on to me like stink on fish. There's no washing it off. I can't fake it.
"It would be the building over there," she says pointing to one diagonally across the green from us. It could be or it could very well not be. I don't know if she's telling the truth. Her voice is reluctant and condescending and there's a small laughter in her words that would make a more impressionable girl frantic that she was already failing at not fitting in. She's finished her judgment of me and it's not good.
But I'm a bigger person and I just give her a quick nod and say, "Thanks" before fishing my headphones out of my backpack and turning up my Discman.
"Headphones aren't allowed on campus," the girl says to me as I put them on.
"Luckily, I'm new here. I'm not aware of that rule." I head in the direction of the building she pointed me to.
"I just told you the rule!" she calls out and because I can't help it, because I can't quite wash the stink off me, I turn around and walk backwards as I point to the headphones and mouth "I can't hear you."
Birdie
The first couple of classes are typical. The building I was directed to was indeed Archer Hall. The classroom is empty so I find a lone desk devoid of stuff and drop what little I have in my backpack to claim the space. An eraser and a sheet of lined paper. I then find Astronomy and finish the hour, relieved that the class is covering material I've already mastered at my last school. I file out of the room, glad that I wasn't subject to the first day introduction teachers love to do at the beginning of class.
Like a herd, the students move to lunch so the cafeteria is easy to find too. I pull out my packed lunch of cold toast and cheese and apple slices with peanut butter. Tim hasn't had time to do a full shopping trip and I had get creative with my choices.
I choose a table in the corner that's isolated without doing the traditional scan to scope the place out. I don't need a scan. I'm a woman with a mission and it doesn't include making fast friends so I have someone to pal around with for four months before I split.
It's probably why I'm surprised when a tall girl with a jet black ponytail plops down at my table. Another tall specimen. Does this school have a height requirement? Her eyes are steel and striking and she widens them as she takes me in. Another assessment. She also reeks of royalty but something is off. Her pouty lips, slim figure, and blank tank top with a cropped button down over it fits the bill in terms of attractiveness. Her confidence fills up the empty table. Definitely a popular native. She's finished looking at me and is now surveying my lunch, her lips turning down thoughtfully as she nods.
"Interesting," she says, noting my nourishment.
"It's what was on hand," I say, biting into an apple slice. I can feel the peanut butter smear in the corner of my lip and my eyes never leave hers as I get it with my tongue. She just watches me back. What could she possibly want?
She holds out her hand for a handshake. "I'm Lacey."
Suspiciously, I shake it. "Birdie."
"I know. I'm your guide. For one of seven black kids in this school, you were kinda hard to find."
I
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