It’s amazing what the first day, at a brand new school can do to a person. They can define many things: your upcoming school year, your college career, even your life. And she did that. She defined everything after that.
She was pretty, but not all-together stunning. Long, dark blonde hair with bangs hung around her narrow face. Her straight, skinny nose was dotted with pale freckles and ended right above thin, pink lips. Her eyes were large, doe like and rather endearing. Almost too large for face, but not quite. They were a deeper blue, and you only noticed the color because they were so big.
Now, these were all rather normal features, and she would have gone totally unnoticed her first day also, if not for the fact that what she was wearing around her waif-like figure was so highly abnormal. Unlike most of the girls in the school who were sporting similar shorts and tank tops, she walked in with a long, flowing, white skirt. She had on a floral printed shirt that tied around her waist and a tie-dye rucksack was slung over her shoulder. Brown sandals were wrapped around her feet and her hair had a multitude of braids in it. Jewelry was strung along her neck and sagged along her wrists as she came strolling into the room, looking like she came straight out of a hippie commune.
A few giggles spread around the room as all eyes turned to her, but the girl’s attention was fixed solely on what seemed to be her search for an empty spot. She seemed to care as much about what her classmates thought of her as she did about what she wore.
I swallowed nervously as her large doe eyes landed on the empty desk next to me, and she made her way down the aisle. There was a wave of turning heads as all students watched her march to the seat and sit down, but she paid them no heed.
As soon as the teacher walked in, all the students turned to look at the front again. Forcefully, I ripped my eyes away from the anomaly and turned to look at the front.
The teacher began the day with introductions, but half way through he stopped.
“Excuse me, Ms.….ah-“
“It’s Arlo,” the hippie girl next to me said. “Arlo Harper.”
The teacher looked like he was about to say something, and then paused. A perplexed look graced his features as he asked, “Isn’t that a boy’s name?” Smiling widely, Arlo replied proudly, “Yes, I was named after the famous folk singer Arlo Guthrie.”
I heard someone mutter, “Of course she was.” But Arlo didn’t seem to hear it.
The teacher cleared his throat, dispelling the bemusement and continued, “Well, Arlo, may I ask you to put both feet on the floor.”
The heads moved in a wave once again as everyone turned to look at Arlo, and we found her sitting cross-legged in her desk. Arlo looked down and then back up again. “No thank you,” she said quite simply. “I’m rather comfortable right here.”
The teacher’s face reddened as he said, “I wasn’t asking, I was telling. It’s a distraction to other students. Please put both feet down on the floor.”
Once again, Arlo replied, “No thank you.”
The teacher walked up to Arlo and they spoke in frenzied whispers for a few minutes. Then, Arlo stood suddenly from her desk, grabbed her rucksack and walked out of the room.
She look totally unfazed and cool as she left, but whispers erupted as the teacher made his way to the front of the room looking anything but calm. Sounding flustered, he cleared his voice and said, “Let’s begin.”
After school, I was putting my books in my locker when I suddenly felt two light taps on my shoulder. Surprised that someone was attempting to communicate with me for the first time that day I turned around and was shocked to find myself face to face with Arlo Harper.
