The Dullness of Deep Docks

Chapter Three - A Delicate Demise

As I wake up I couldn’t quite place it, but something seemed off about the day. There was sun breaking through the low hanging clouds in the sky, and the new room circled around me. Boxes filled with items, and my dress from last night scattered across the floor, but still something was missing.
Rolling over my eyes adjusted to the alarm clock beside my head, before my heart skipped a beat and I punched from me too comfortable position. I was missing an alarm. The numbers flashed at the default, 00:00. Of course I was going to be late, first day of school wouldn’t have been the same any other way.

Fortunately for me I wasn’t as late as I had expected when I originally woke up, but scurrying around the hallways, trying not to spill the paper cup of coffee against my shirt, and looking for my classroom number didn’t exactly help the case.
By the time I hurried in the clock showed quarter past eight, what a shame I would have been pretty close to on time if I didn’t have to search for the room.
Some people say they’e nervous when ever they walk into a new classroom in a new school, other people say they enjoy it. I guess that’s just because while some people hate the attention, others love it. Me though, it’s different. I wasn’t as nervous as I should have been as I twisted the door handle, and every eye in the room adjusted to me, the erie silence that came with it filled the air.

I wouldn’t have said I loved the attention either, in frank I hated the attention. But you reach a point in your life where you’ve moved school’s one too many times, where you’ve walked into that exact same situation with a different crowd of people. And I guess, you just get used to it.
“Is this Algebra?”
“Emilia, I would assume?” The man who stood in the front of the room seemed about middle aged, and the only reason I would say that was the slightly greying tinge to the ends of his hair.
I nodded, and for the first time I had entered the room my eyes skimmed over the crowd of students who sat around. Most of them had glasses sitting loosely upon their noses, and a way of adverting their eyes when mine met theirs. There was something about the way they simply sat there that gave off an awkward vibe, and I hadn’t even spoken to them yet.
“Well it’s lovely to meet you, I’m Mr. Macre. Everyone this is Emilia, she’ll be with us for the rest of the year, so do try and speak to her.”
Oh lord and lady, please do not. With the words that left his mouth I took it as the opportunity to take a seat in the small classroom, but apparently as small as they numbers were, there was only one place left to sit.

 She had dark hair, and a thick layer of shimmering lip gloss that could have glued her lips together if I was lucky enough. Although something told me that was once again a bit of wishful thinking.
“Emilia’s a cute name,” Her eyes were the same colour as her hair, and the way she bounded in her chair as I placed myself in the seat beside her couldn’t help but remind me of a puppy dog. “I’m Georgia,”
This would have usually been the point in conversation where I corrected them, where I would have said Enzo, after all that’s what I had been called my whole life. But I didn’t, I just nodded and turned my book to a new page.
“So, you’re new yea?”
Once again I nodded, watching Mr. Macre continue on with the lesson that was forming on the chalk board at the front of the classroom.
“Are you, you know. Form around here? Like, were you at a different school before?”
My hand hurried to scratch down the formulas and explanations that were previously on the board, “I went to school before here, but not one near by. Just moved to town.”
“Oh that’s cool,” was it too hard just for her to write down what was on the board? Honestly, I was more than happy spending the time in the classroom filled with awkward silence. “So do you have anyone to sit with at lunch?”
“I just got here,”
“Is that a no?” It’s a wonder how she’s in this class, especially looking around at everyone else in there.
“That’s a no.”

Once I spoke once more I noticed a certain silence in the classroom which could have only resulted in the lack of speech from the teacher standing at the front of the room, seeing as there wasn’t any other sound through the room. Not that I particularly minded it, but I couldn’t help wondering if there was some other sound, would the vivacious girl beside me have indulged conversation with someone else?
It’s great to see you’re making friends with Ms Sawyer,” Mr. Macre’s greying eyebrows raised, and his chalk patiently tapped against the board. “But you can’t expect to show up late, and chat through my entire class.”
“I’m sorry,” My mumble still managed to be audible over the whole classroom, giving him enough of a reply to go back talking about the subject at hand. And Georgia enough of a reason to continue speaking apparently,
“Do you wanna sit with us at lunch?”
When she said us, was she talking about the entirety of the math class, because they didn’t quite seem as involved in anything as she was. If someone worked out a way to distribute enthusiasm from one person to an entire class, namely Georgia Sawyer and the math class before me. I’m sure that there would still be some of the enthusiasm left over. Which gave me every right to follow her question with a very suitable reply.
“No thanks,”

While I thought it was quite the suitable response, apparently the tanned girl beside be thought opposite. Which wasn’t exactly a curse, after all it meant I got to spend the rest of the class in peace, and even when I asked her for help on one of the questions all I got was a mumble and a direction to ask the teacher. Not the worst thing that could have happened.

But my rein of self assurance on the matter of a silent classroom was soon burst as the bell went, watching Georgia hurry out of the room as quickly as she could muster, I slowly waded out after her. It wasn’t until I reached the hallway I realised exactly how much damage I had caused for myself.
The moment I stepped from the safety of the room, and the comfort of the socially awkward, I entered the world of bustling high-school students, and their loud chatter through the enclosed building. Still there was one group standing smack bang in the middle of the calamity, one group that everyone maid their point to avoid, and that whole group was staring right at me.
The brunette who I came to know as Georgia Sawyer standing right in the middle, her face showing a great amount of hostility as they turned away.

I was contemplating exactly what had happened, and exactly what I had done when I stumbled forward, the impact of another student to my back. But by the time I collected myself an apology all I had was the faint mumble, and the sight of blonde frizzy hair walking away.