Chapter 22

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"How'd you get stuck in this class?" I slump next to a kid on the floor.

"It's required."

I gasp dramatically. "Physical Education is actually required at this school?"

He not so subtly moves away from me. He's probably heard some stuff about me. Who else could be the new girl with no style? I mean I may have mistaken a teacher as a student and that didn't go well. There was also the lunch situation (nothing major) but I simply took too much food (like that is a crime?).

"Hey! My fellow senior and also the only other senior in this underclassmen class, you and I are meant to be. Us seniors stick together, like two peas in a pod." I grin.

I think my grin scares him. I watch as he gets up and rushed away from me. Was I too strong? I cannot help some people can't handle me.

"I'll see you later!" I wave enthusiastically.

Then, I sit there and twiddle my thumbs for a good minute. I don't know what to do, or what I am supposed to do. Is PE supposed to be fun or something?

At Elite, PE wasn't required, but it was highly recommended every student participated in some sort of physical activity. I never took PE in my life.

I glance around the gymnasium, which is pretty nice. The uniforms they make us wear are not too shabby. We all wear black basketball shorts with the option of black trackpants and a gray shirt with the school name and PE written on it. It could be worse.

I'm a little lonely now that my senior friend has abandoned me. The rest of the class consists of lowly freshmen. Today the sport everyone is playing is volleyball.

After sitting on the floor twiddling my thumbs for quite a long time, i stand up and decide I'm going to leave.

I walk out through the gym doors, and people seem too busy to notice.

As I head to the girl's locker room, I begin to realize how empty the hallway is. I quicken my steps as I feel some paranoia seeping in. Changing into my clothes in a rush, I continue to feel like someone is watching me.

I take out my knives and hide them under my sleeves in case I need them.

I amble my way over to the office: I want to change my class schedule to how I want it, not how my brothers want it.

I'm trying not to look over my shoulder, but it's difficult.

"Hi. Can I get a school ID and class schedule change?" I ask the lady at the front desk.

"That'll be $10 for a new ID, and you go to your counselor for a schedule change."

"I never got an ID in the first place, so why should I pay for a new one?" I ask.

"You've never had an ID?" Her voice is doubtful.

"No, I just transferred." I try my best not to roll my eyes.

"What's your name?" She stared at her computer screen interestingly.

"Ricca. Shay Ricca."

"Ricca? Oh." She looks up at me in surprise. "Here." She places an ID on the counter.

"Thanks." I snatch it up. That was easy. "By the way, where's the counselor's office?"

"Right down the hallway and to the right." She points, this time a bit more kindly.

"Thanks again." I nod. I exit the office and look for the office. It's farther than I expect as I stroll along.

I'm still not the greatest at directions. I find myself in some random building that I've never been before. I look around to see if there is anyone I can ask for directions.

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