If I Die Young

9. Public school

Come Thursday, and the alarm on my phone blared one of my favorite songs, promptly jarring me out of a sketchy nightmare of black and white monsters hanging over my bed. I took a deep breath in an effort to comfort myself, my fingers tracing the outlines of the stitches in the comforter while I listened to my song. After it ended I finally pulled myself from my blankets and stepped onto the hardwood floor, deciding instantly I needed a rug so as not to freeze my feet off every time I got up.

You're supposed to make a statement on your first day of school, right? Or are you supposed to blend in? I pondered the questions as I searched my closet for something appropriate to wear. Acid washed skinny jeans and heels? A skirt and sneakers? I found myself feeling hopeless as I scoured the tight selection, a pit gnawing itself into the bottom of my stomach. This was the first time I hadn't worn a uniform to school and I was overwhelmed with the amount of normalcy this took.

"Hey, Sable?" I heard a knock on my door. "You alright in there?"

"I'm fine," I must have made a noise of complaint without knowing it, "you can come in."

The door popped open and I saw Elyse there, dressed in blue jeans and a sweater. She had her hair tied back and she smiled, sensing my distress. Her fingers reached into my closet to brush through the garments, her face twisting and turning into various positions as she examined them.

"You have a lot of expensive fabric in here," she laughed quietly, "Ezra told me you modeled, but I didn't think they sent you home with what you had on the runway."

"You get paid in clothes when you model for retail." I chuckled. "I have no idea what to wear. I don't want to seem like the snooty rich kid but I don't know what else to do."

"You grew up in hundreds of dollars worth of clothing, just keep rocking it." Elyse pulled an emerald T shirt off of the hanger, the item perforated with holes. "How much is this worth?"

"Thirty bucks." I shrugged and grabbed it, having almost forgotten I owned the item. "I think this would actually be perfect with a pair of jeans."

"I may be blind, but I do have good fashion sense." Elyse grinned. "I'll meet you downstairs, don't take too long getting ready or we'll end up ditching you."

"Note taken."

Elyse closed the door on her way out, leaving me to strip out of my sweats and tank top and pull the shirt on over my head. The famous black skinny jeans I owned finally made their appearance, sliding over my hips and buttoning gently across my navel. I tucked the shirt into the waistband and went to grab my brush, sweeping it through my curls and calling it good. A pair of dark blue booties laced around my ankles and to finish it off; I hung a gray duster over my shoulders, pulling the hood up over my head and leaving it there.

Looking in the mirror, this whole situation finally felt surreal to me. I wasn't going home, this wasn't summer camp, and I wouldn't ever be wearing a uniform or strutting down the runways again. Sable Snow dropped off the face of the Earth, and that's how it was going to stay. My lips perked up in a smile when I thought about it, and I rifled around a small jewelry box I had to pull out something I'd hidden from my peers for a while now. A small black hoop slid into the bump of my nose, an unsightly blemish in the world of modeling, but a world of rebellion and even comfort to me. I sat there for a half hour while Gal shoved the needle through my nose, and the final result looked better than even I'd hoped for.

I left my memories of her and my life before in that room. My hand reached for the backpack I'd filled last night and I slung it over my shoulders, the weight bouncing gently on my spine as I walked down the steps and to the dining room. It was waffles today, Belgian ones that made my mouth water. No one seemed to question my appearance when I sat down and dug in, and I couldn't have been happier about it. For once I finished my meal before I lost my appetite and I even collected the dishes, bringing them over to Iden to wash in the sink.