Mixie Moxie (COMPLETED)

Ms.Moxelle

"Did you hear about the new kid?"

"Yeah, I heard she's pretty chill."

"Not me, I heard she has a past criminal record."

"No way, really? What for?"

"There are stories all over the place." "I heard that she killed somebody."

"That's so creepy, what is our school doing letting killers in here?"

"I guess they're just desperate for students."

"I can fucking hear you."

The kids turned their heads to me, raising their hands like they stole something. That's all I've been hearing as soon as I got here. She did this and she hurt this. I haven't been in the school for three fucking minutes.

"Hahahaha," I heard the principal laugh behind me, putting his big bear paw on my shoulder. "I apologize, Ms. Moxelle, our students aren't use to newcomers." He shuffled me away from the students. I could hear them sigh in relief when I turned my back.

"So where are you from?" He asked me, sitting in a honky looking red desk, accompanied by a stuffed bear head that I assume he killed and stuffed.

I slumped my bookbag in the chair beside me and flumped myself on the seat, not making eye contact with him. I was staring at the kids in the hallway.

"Ohio." I replied, blandly. He made a small gulp, seeming as if he was scared of me too.

"How do you like New Jersey?" He asked again, leaning back and outstretching his arms in welcome. Three boys stared me down from the office window, like I was a fat piece of red meat. "I don't."

"Well," The principal started. "You're welcomed here."

Am I? Can't go three seconds without somebody staring lasers into the back of my neck. I slump. "I guess."

The principal stands up and closes the blinds behind me, and gets extremely close to me when he sits back in his desk.

"Now, about your records. You've cleared up your probation with the judge and paid to get your files stowed away, so you are incognito as of right now." He leaned back, grabbing my school schedule and handing it to me, along with a selection of textbooks,pencils, and notebooks, given to me for free thanks to financial aid. I grabbed the things he gave me and jammed them into my bookbag, throwing them over my shoulder. As he lead me out the door, he continued his nice guy attitude.

"I'm Principal Oswald, but just call me Oswald. Make some new friends, find somebody to lead you to your next class." I nodded, primping my hair into a messy ponytail. "Oh, and, Ms.Moxelle?" I turned back around, impatiently. "Do be sure to keep it clean."

Yeah yeah, baldy.

....

The school was filled with a mass of intricate hallways, classrooms, and people. The main colors I saw all around the place was Brown, Black, and Orange. Images of bears and slogans concerning them filled all lockers and hallways.  Students wore orange plaid skirts and black pants (For boys) With shirts in either Orange or black. I shimmied through the hallways, through the mass of talking and yapping teenagers who obviously weren't eager to get to class, but neither was I. I tightened up my hoodie and looked at the plaid skirts on two girls in the hallway.

No fucking way am I wearing that.

I could feel the eyes of several people in the hallway, too. Mumbled sentences talking about my "aura" and "presence". Suddenly, the bell (for whatever class it was) rang, and the students all dispersed, leaving the hallway deserted in a matter of minutes. I sighed, pulling my schedule out of my bag and leaning against a bear- shaped- vending machine.

"5th Bell, Art. Black Wing, A." I grumbled. Great. No bone in my body is artistic, unless you count making people's body parts twist in abstract directions 'artistic'. Suddenly, my eyes skimmed to something I hadn't had in my old school, simply because no one would fund it.

"Kickboxing." I smirked, cracking my other knuckle while I read it. But then I thought about Baldy, and his one sentence that annoyed me as soon as I remembered it. Keep it clean.

I folded my schedule back up and walked to the left of the hallway, where another hallway draped in all black welcomed me.

"Room C, Room K, Room  A." I stood in front of the art room, staring at the annoyingly beautiful images and cartoons people drew. I was jealous, lowkey, but I kept it to myself. With a sigh, I stepped into the room.

A classroom of about 15 kids turned their heads simultaneously at me, breaking whatever conversations they were in the middle of. I felt a weird heat on my back, and an awkward gulp in my throat.

"Ms.Moxelle?" The teacher asked, raising his hand to me kindly. I nodded in silence, and he stood from his stool to place his hand on my back. "Class welcome Ms.Moxelle to the classroom." They gave an uneasy clap throughout the classroom, all their gazes fixed on me. 

"What's your first name?" He asked me, staring into my face with his earthy green eyes. I turned towards the class, silent until I scanned the classroom for somewhere to sit. Finally, I found it, close to a window and some kid with dreads in front of the seat. He was deep into his art, and he probably wouldn't care if I sat there. "Miss?" I heard from the side of me. The teacher was still talking. I fixed my bookbag strap and faced the class.

"Mixian. Mixian Moxelle." I introduced myself. The class made confused and contorted faces. The teacher clapped his hands together and his eyes twinkled like he was in his own world.

"What an artistic name!" He cried. " Have a seat anywhere Ms. Moxelle. I am sure you will enjoy our class, as we are not an average art. We, here, are an acting, drawing, sculpting, expressive art class, and you are free to be yourself here." I sat in my seat, staring at the bland walls plastered with only posters of bears and the colors of the school. Not to mention shitty "motivational posters" with sayings like Bear Through It! Written on them. I smacked my hand against my forehead.

Mmhm, oh yeah sure.

Time to wear out my welcome.