I walk the halls of Jacobean High slowly, unsure of where I'm going. For about the fifth time I look down at my schedule. First period I have Physics with Mrs. Templeton in room 109. The hall seems to stretch forever and none of the room numbers are even close to 109. The numbers are out of order, somehow going from 103 to 118 when the rooms are side by side. Finally I take a right turn at the poster of the cat just "hanging on" and find my way to Mrs. Templeton's room. Inside she's scolding two boys, one wearing a green plaid button-down shirt and the other wearing a grey hoodie with a skull on front. I can tell Mrs. Templeton is just warming up with her speech but stops as soon as she sees me at the door. "Um, hi. My name is Stella. This is Physics, right" I manage to ask, immediately unsure of myself, the numbers in the hallway flashing before my eyes. "Yes, yes come right in, come right in." She tutters across the room to me excited by the prospect of a new mind I guess. The boy in the plaid shirt gives me a small, shy smile and sits down at his desk, while the boy in the hoodie gives me a death stare and does the same. "Why are the room numbers in the hall mixed up," I ask. She shakes her head and tisk, tisk, tisks. "Why don't you ask Mister Blake and Mister Morgan over there?" I don't feel the need to ask anything anymore, so I look around the room for an empty seat. There's one left at the end of the first row, but a plastic skeleton would block my view. There being no other seat I try to move the skeleton, but find it is bolted to the floor with big shiny bolts. I now realize I have been trying to move a clearly immovable object for a good half minute and everyone is staring at me. Embarrassed, I sit down and stare out the window hoping the rest of the day will be better. It isn't. The the four other periods before lunch are OK, with the exception of math where Mr. Howards gives a pop quiz.
I can't help thinking, I miss my old friends and I miss my old school. All throughout lunch I stare miserably at my mashed potatoes and move my green beans around with my fork. Back and forth, back and forth. Why couldn't we have stayed in Strikesville? Mr. Whats-his-name could have found someone else to take the job, couldn't he? But dad needed a distraction. Mom leaving hurt him so bad. He isn't even getting paid the same amount as the other job! A new house always means higher bills. Maybe he can finally focus here; a fresh start is just what he needs. Suddenly the bell rings, snapping me out of my trance, and I discover, as I look down at my schedule again its time to go to athletics.
