Try Not to Cry

Chapter 3

I wake up late by about twenty minutes, and arrive to my class late another five minutes on top of the twenty minutes it took me to get ready and the ten to drive there. 

 When I walk in the class, I'm greeted by a scolding bald man who's name is written on the board as Mr. Duffle.

 "We're off to a bad start, Miss Cassidy." He greets me sourly.

 "Sorry." I say, and quickly find my assigned seat, tackily labelled by a sticky-note.

 There are a few desks in the middle of the class, and tables with stools on the outer parts, seated for two. My seat happens to be at the back, and a few people in the class watch me as I take my spot alone at the back. The bulky girl in front of me turns around and says, "I like your hair," and I self-conciously tug at a lock around my shoulder. Mr. Duffle interrupts me before I can say thanks.

 "Welcome class, to the start of yet another school year," he says unenthousiastically, "where we're bound to be bombarded by a new group of freshmen, exchange students, and late transfer students. Now I know what some of you are thinking... this is going to be a long semester. And for that, you'd be correct. About the only excitement that will happen in this class all semester will perhaps be the two new transfers tomorrow, as we're expecting.

 "Miss Cassidy," his voice loudens and I'm forced to look up, "as we've all already been acquainted with, is also new to Riverfield High this year. So I hope you will all give her a warm welcome, and blah blah blah etc etc etc." He finishes.

 Suddenly, many more people are staring at me as I hold my silver mechanical pencil above my art book.

 I really was hoping I would be able to get through the day without being noticed. It almost feels like they're expecting me to say something.

 Then, thankfully, Mr. Duffle begins talking again, stealing away everyone's attention, and I sort of just block out his voice and continue to draw. Something taps against my pencil, and I look up to see a crumpled note. I look around to see if I could figure out who it was, but no one seems to be looking my way. I unwrap it carefully.

 Doing anything tonight, sweetheart? It reads, and I feel uncomfortable. I look up again. Everyone seems to be writing something down.

 As soon as the bell rings, I close my book and chuck the crumpled note in the garbage.

 Next period is about the same as first; a bunch of introductions and, luckily, no one pointing me out this time. Although, the girl sitting beside me, named Sadie, did make a remark about my blue hair. Blue. Which I forgot to mention that I hardly had the time to adjust to this morning. I woke up with my beautiful black hair changed to a vibrant blue. I definitely didn't get up in the middle of the night to bleach and then dye my hair, since those sleeping pills I took kept me sound asleep all night.

 Besides, I can't stand the colour blue.