The Only Exception ::girlxgirl::

Chapter 1

Chapter 1 ::Jordan's POV::

It was beyond cliche for me to admit this in any rational thought, to use such an unoriginal statement, yet I couldn't help the thought that drifted bitterly through my mind in that moment.

I absolutely loathe being the new student.

This sentence was used so many times, in so many different ways, that every non-conformist bone in my body screamed for me to shoot myself for even thinking it.

Being the new girl was something fairly new to me; I'll admit (only to myself, never aloud) that I was extremely freaked out about my first day at this new school.

My entire life I had attended the same school, hung out with the same people and, yes, you guessed it, went about the same routine every single day. Within my short, average and non-distressing lifetime, I had no reason to complain or break away from my day-to-day pattern of waking up, going to school, coming home, doing homework, babysitting and then going to sleep.

Until six months ago, that is.

After one dreadful afternoon of horror, I had decided (meaning my Mother decided for me, leaving zero point zero room for argument or protest) that it was time for a change.

So like crazy gypsies, my family packed up our menial belongings and hauled ass out of town.

Confused? Don't worry; I was as well.

Actually, thinking back, I was too numb at the time to feel the dizzying confusion of questions raised by my Mother's desire to pack up and leave the only home I had ever known.

Anyway, I digress. Here I stood, in all of my jeans and ratty sneakered glory, in front of thirty-odd akward-looking teenagers who suddenly felt the urgent need to stare at me as if I were an oh-so-fascinating booger they had just picked out of their nose.

Let me tell you, akward doesn't even come close to covering this situation.

The older, graying teacher cleared her throat to gain the attention of her students (as if she were blind to the fact that they were staring me down like I was Marvin the Martian in the flesh) and announced in her creaky, quiet voice that reminded me oddly of old floorboards, "Class, this is Jordan Turner. She has just moved into town, so please do everything in your power to make her feel welcome."

Oh, don't worry Mrs. Floorboard, I'm positive these children will do everything they can to make me feel welcome. Not.

I sighed, not bothering with the shy-introduce-yourself-to-the-class thing, instead nodding shortly to the teacher before making my way to the back of the classroom and claiming an empty desk.

Lord, if you can hear me, please let this batty old teacher not call on me to answer a question. I snorted to myself at the likelihood of that happening.

And, like magic, the teacher called out, "Jordan, would you care to share with the class what you find so very amusing about the definition of personification?"

Yup, it was offical; ridiculously cliche or not, being the new student sucked worse then being eaten alive by sharks.

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So, within the first hour, really the first twenty minutes, of stepping through the doors of my new school, I had gotten a detention.

It wasn't my fault, honestly. How was I to know that 'I would rather jump off a two story building into a pit of venemous snakes than answer that question' wasn't the appropriate response when talking to a teacher.

Geez, I was only joking, really. Ok, I was mostly joking. No, I was actually being a hundred percent serious, but the teacher didn't need to know that, did she?