Bloodlust

Bloodlust Chapter Six

At the end of the quad stood another building, slightly smaller than the one we’d previously been wandering, with another pair of double doors leading inside.

Justin held one of the green doors open for me. “Newbies first.”

I just glared. He smirked, closing the door behind us. Before us was yet another endless hall, leading to many other doors that I assumed led to the other classrooms, the gym, and the library (I hoped). As long as they have a library, I should be fine, I kept telling myself, soothing away the unbearable thoughts of what comes with moving to a new place. It’s always hard to live one place and then change your whole lifestyle, just to fit in at the new place. You left, you came, you moved in…get settled at school…try to meet people who will only temporarily accept you until something better came along…and then feel sorry for yourself when they’re gone. It’s the way of life for almost everyone, even those who seem to be accepted and worshiped always. These rules apply in every school, every age, everywhere. Even in high school. Especially in high school.

Justin nudged me, pulling me out of my trance. “Here we are. This is Mrs. Andrews’ homeroom. You’ll come here every morning at…”

I pushed past him to get inside and plopped down in the closest available seat. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him high-five one of his buddies and sat down at his desk. He glanced up in my direction, meeting my eyes with an amused look on his face. I quickly looked away, a feeling of hot shame overpowering my already-red cheeks. Still, even with my back turned, I could feel his friends’ eyes on me. One whistled for no apparent reason, but instead of worrying about it or threatening to rip him apart, I tried to focus on poor Mrs. Andrews who was desperately trying to settle the students down. Sucks to be you, my wise-cracking mind laughed.

Cliques were fully developed in the class, which didn’t come to a surprise to me. Not that I was worried about who I would be hanging with. The answer was simple: me, myself, and I…me, myself, and I…me, myself, and…

“Hey, Lexie,” Justin called to me. Don’t turn around, don’t turn around, don’t turn ar-

“Yeah,” was my brilliant response.

“Need a seat for lunch later?”

 “I guess,” I shrugged, trying to ignore the stares and gawking expressions on a group of girls’ faces. “Not like I have much else to choose from.”

His knowing smile told me I wasn’t fooling him but he would keep it quiet. For now, that is.

As usual, I stood out in my pure black hoodie, Rolling Stones T-shirt, graffiti Converse and dark eyeliner. Even without the help of Justin, people continued to stare at my appearance as they did the moment I walked in. I wasn’t Goth or emo, if that’s what you’re thinking. But let’s get this straight: I am no goody-two-shoes, either. I was a rebel, in more ways than not.

An echoing gong shook the room and quickly silenced the class. Mrs. Andrews-you know, the lady I pitied just ten seconds ago-stood at the head of the classroom, smiling an almost evil grin.

“Now, class,” she started. “Thank you for quieting down. We can now begin taking roll.”

“John,” she announced.

“Here.”

“Cassie.”

“Yup, I’m still alive.” Mrs. Andrews rolled her eyes. Cassie must be an emo; I immediately made a mental note to look her up.

“Alexandra,” she called, her beady eyes searching for me.

“It’s Lexie,” I told her, not bothering to hide the scorn in my voice. A few people snickered; I stared them down…they immediately shut up.