First Day Jitters

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"AARYN!" my mother yells at exactly 5:46 am. "FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL, GET UP, GET UP!" I groan loudly and cover my head with my pillow. 'Why can't it be summer all the time?' I wonder.

I wait till 5:57 am to get out of bed and finally start getting ready. First, I ate a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, the usual. Then I brushed my teeth. 'Ugh, my teeth are so crooked' I think to myself. 'I just wanna get braces and get them over with.' I guess I'll live for another day.

I choose a Green Day t-shirt, black skinny jeans, and my favourite pair of combat boots to wear on my first day of senior year. I straighten my long brown to blonde ombré hair and toss a piece of Spearmint chewing gum in my mouth.

I get to school and see a few friends I know. I saw Nicole and Austin, my best friends that so happen to be dating for almost 4 years now. I stand on my tip toes to wave at them over the crowd and they run over and hug me tight. "I have to go to class. See ya, Aaryn. Love you Nicole," he says as he kisses Nicole on the forehead. "OMG Nicole you and Austin are too cute together. I can't believe you guys have been dating for almost 4 years already!"

Then, out of the corner of my eye, someone caught my attention. It was a tall boy, who looked lost. He wore a Nirvana shirt, and his hair was white and spiky. Nicole was talking about Austin then I interrupted. "Nicole, do you know who THAT is?" Nicole shook her head and kept talking. "Yeah, Austin and I hung out almost everyday this summer. Isn't he just the cutest? Gosh, I love him."

"Sorry babe for interrupting again. Who do you have this semester?" I asked her. "Guenrich first block, Cummings second, Morgan third, and band last. Of course we have band and choir together, like always."

"Oh, well we have choir and band this semester and that's it. I'll see you 3rd block, Nicole!" I yelled over the screaming of the girls next to us running to their friend they probably saw last night.

For some reason, I cannot get that tall, white haired boy out of my mind.

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