The Golden Girl

Chapter 3

School. It was a foreign word. So many months of being at home and now what? It sounded so simple. I tried to remember my last day before... I trailed off focusing on the day of school and not the evening. It was boring. I remember that much, all we talked about was clothes, boys and other girls, and now what the hell was I meant to talk about? I tried to relax as we pulled up in the Volvo. Julie wouldn't stop talking, assuring me that she had the bestest of friends. I simply nodded watching the students walk past. I nearly got out of this I thought sadly, but they insisted that I come. After all, year twelve is apparently important. It's your first step into the future.

Angus turned the car off and for a moment we were silent.

"You ready, Sophie?" He asked.

I heard my Dad's words in my head, pretend and then finally one day you'll get there, and so I did what he would want me to do. I nodded and managed to pull myself together.

✽

We started walking through the gates. Julie slipped her arm through mine, as Angus ran over to his mates.

"Your first class is with Melissa. She is a very close friend, Sophie. She will make sure you feel welcome."

I nodded, but quickly whispered, "Is he really that popular?"

She chuckled softly and we both watched this huge group welcome, Angus.

"Surfing makes you pretty popular around here," She said matter of factly, but I doubted that was the only reason.

Girls flocked to his side and for a moment a small spark of jealousy rippled in my chest. Just as the thought entered my mind, I recoiled and turned abruptly away. I don't like perfect people. They mess with my head.

✽

Melissa was slightly hard to believe. I thought Julie's voice was bubbly, but Melissa's was on a whole nother level. She reminded me of a cow I had back home when I was a kid. Her name was Moo Moo. She was always mooing, but somehow despite the constant noise, it wasn't annoying, it simply made my family happy. This same characterisation fell perfectly on Melissa's shoulders.

"We call him Mr Pineapple," She laughed, motioning to the teacher.

"Whatever for?" I murmured.

"He brings a pineapple to school every day so he can have fresh pineapple juice for lunch."

"That is really weird." I found myself saying and sure enough in his small bag, I saw the unmistakable spikes of a pineapple.

"I know! But like, all math teachers are weird."

We sat down towards the back and for a moment I wondered whether he'd get me to stand up or something, humiliating, but he simply started talking in a high squeaky voice. I tried to listen, ignoring all the stares I was getting. I felt a small bit of sympathy for these people, who saw me as their excitement. Little did they know how ordinary I was.

✽

For some unknown reason, maths worked with my brain. I didn't need help and I didn't want help, and yet Mr Pineapple placed his dweebish hand on my shoulder.

"How are you going Miss Carter, I hope you understand the work."

I hated the way he called me, 'Miss Carter.' What decade did he think we lived in?

"I'm doing very well, thank you."

He went to go and then he turned. The whole class was watching.