Sunshine | Farkle

01: raina meets farkle

"meeting you was like listening to a song for the first time and knowing it would be my
favorite."

||

          New surroundings are everything that you can make of it. It's either a heart wrenching reminder that the past is the past and you can't go back, or it's a brand new opportunity to make something of yourself. Here in Abigail Adams High School, it's a bittersweet mix of the two.

          Somehow, most of my thoughts were comparisons from the bustling hallways of this place to the quiet, organized shuffling back in Lincoln Middle School. I miss the too tiny lockers that never fit any of my textbooks and the familiarity of knowing all my teachers. But here, with each step I take, I feel like every movement is an opportunity.

          It's like I can rule the school, or the city, or the state, or the country. Heck, with the confidence bubbling in my stomach, maybe I can take over the world. Screw that. The whole God damn universe!

         But then, the bell rings, and suddenly, I'm lost in the crowd. My body is slammed against the wall, sinking me to the floor as all I see are feet. Pairs and pairs upon feet, wearing shoes that ranged from killer to absolutely hideous. This one girl, and I know everyone has their own style and we as a society shouldn't judge, is wearing a mix between denim and leather boots that boggled my mind to the point where after I blinked, the crowd of students were gone.

          It seems as though I wasn't the only freshman who had toppled over from the stampede of high schoolers. With strict orders from seniors, a group of students all begrudgingly shuffled down the stairs into a hole, leaving their one friend, adorned in gray swinging on a light. With one menacing look from a brooding football player, the boy sighed and dropped to the ground with a loud scream.

          I couldn't help but shoot up from the ground and power walk towards my English class. There is no way I'm letting those seniors hurl me into a hole on the first day, especially with the fact that I don't do well talking with new people. As I pass by the railing, my eyes shifting to downstairs, all I can see are a mass of six people. Already too many people for me.

||

"You didn't go to John Quincy, did you?"

My head snaps to the snippy voice of a girl with black rimmed glasses and wavy, brown hair. Her smile held mischief and her eyes glimmered with something unreadable.

Due to the nerves impeding my speech, I simply shake my head and tuck a piece of my dark brown hair behind my ear. The two of us were standing in the midst of the cafeteria, red trays in our arms.

She flashes another sinister grin before leading me over to a table already occupied by a blonde, smiley girl and a small grinning boy. "I'm Sarah and that's Darby and Yogi," she introduces.

Looking around I realize that our table is the center of the freshman and sophomore lunch. Off to the sides are other cliques of kids, some grouped together in stereotypes and others mixed up with a little bit of everything.

"This is the popular table," Sarah states, twirling some hair around her finger. The other two just nod along to her words with enthusiasm. "My daddy's a famous director, so I have a reputation to uphold, and so do the people around me."

Although I did come from a middle school near here, all my other friends transferred to a high school closer to their homes, leaving me friendless. It didn't bother me as much as it would for most people because I believed that the universe had some
plan for me in high school. Albeit, I didn't think it would be with a girl with more confidence in her pinky than a person's whole body or with an odd couple who never spoke, only agreeing with their friend through nods and smiles.

"You must be shy," Sarah continues. She flips her hair over her shoulder. "Soon, I'll teach you the ropes around here, but I'm going to need your name first."

"Raina Faith," I say with a smile.

"Too long."

Darby and Yogi nod in agreement, smiles never faltering. I attempt to open my mouth to speak, but the bell cuts off my voice, allowing me to take a look back on this whole experience. I met a girl. She led me to a table that was practically a ticket to popularity. The only words I uttered were my name, and apparently it was too long.

Before I know it, the reminiscing was over and I'm being dragged away from the table, trays of garbage still there. "Wait—"

        "There are people for that," Sarah reassured me, causing a sick feeling within me to build up. I was never raised to leave a mess or make it harder for those who already have hardships. "What class do you have next?"

"History with Mr. Matthews," I say, head turning over my shoulder to watch a cafeteria lady sigh and throw out what I could have. My blue eyes were drowning in guilt as Sarah spluttered out a groan.

"Me too. The man could be a good teacher if he didn't revolve everything around one specific friend group. It's so annoying hearing about their problems all the time."

"But shouldn't good teachers try to relate their lessons to something that goes on in life?" I question.

Sarah halts, causing me to almost ram into her back. She turns around with her eyes squinting at me with an unreadable expression. "Raina," she begins. "The only people that will matter in the next four years is us. We really don't need to hear the sob story of a triangle everyday."

In a flash, Sarah storms over to a door at the end of the hall, which I can only assume is Mr. Matthews's room. "Why are we learning about triangles in history?" I ask myself, too deep in my thoughts to recognize the boy in my way. We collide in a mess of limbs, his body underneath mine as I awkwardly blink at him.

Taking in his features of dark blue eyes and smooth skin, I find myself at a loss of words. His lips were turned up in surprise and his brows were strung together in confusion as he analyzed my facial structure too. His nose resembled a ski slope, turning up into a point that touched the tip of my own.

"Your the boy who fell from the ceiling light," I blurt out, watching his cheeks begin to swirl with red.

"I am Farkle," he mutters in what I can only assume as a greeting.

Awkwardly, I roll off of him, standing up first and reaching a hand down to help him up. He takes my help, warm hands enveloping my own in a way that makes my heart flutter. The slightest quiver of his lips turning into a smile at our touch was enough to almost send me to the emergency room.

"I'm Raina Faith," I introduce stiffly. I teeter back and forth, hand retracting from his warm touch. Looking him up and down, he genuinely was so attractive and I couldn't help but hear my heartbeat in my ears when I look at him.

"That's a pretty name," he utters.

"Not too long?"

"No," he mused, eyes lighting up with admiration. "It's perfect."