2 - Bardo

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        Turns out Kira and I have a lot of classes together so far. I was afraid I wouldn't have a friend, but she seemed to have accepted me with open arms. Maybe because we are both new. I'm curious to know why she doesn't know about herself. The guy from history kept glimpsing back towards me, like he was trying to figure out what I was. Thankfully, my mom has taken me how to hide my true self from others. 

        I pass by a line of lockers until I find the one I am looking for. I hold the small lock in my left hand while spinning the dial to the correct numbers with my other. I yank down to hear it unlock. I'm surprised I unlocked it in one try. The locker is completely empty until I shove the three new books inside of it. A boy appears on my left, spinning the dial on his locker. I glimpse his way to see him staring at the dial, like he forgot his combination or something. 

        His hair is cut kind of short, but flipped. My eyes drift down his cute face to the orange plaid shirt. I have one similar to that. A groan from him makes me look back up to his face. Concentration is sketched out on it with a hint of despair. I press my lips in a thin line. Should I ask him if he's okay? He looks upset. No one else is around. I know I decided I would come off as rude, but I think I can make a tiny exception for this guy. He doesn't look like a bad guy.

        "Do you need help?" I lean up against my locker door.

        The guy blinks his eyes a couple times, like he just broke out of a trance. He drops his hand from the lock to run it through his hair. The next thing he does is turn his head my way. "What?"

        "I asked if you needed help." I look from him to his locker. 

        He looks back to his locker, frowning. "Uh," His eyebrows scrunch together. "No, I think I got it now. Thank you."

        I press my lips together, nodding. Okay then. I pull my schedule out of my math book and unfold it to see where my next class is. Economics. You would think my own dad would tell me where his class is.

        A head blocks my peripheral vision. The guy next to me tries to be sneaky and catch a look at me schedule until he realizes that I caught him. His cheeks tint pink as he clears his throat. "You, uh, have econ next?"

        I nod my head, biting my lip to hide my giggle. "Yeah."

        "Coach Finstock is the worst." The guy shakes his head. 

        "Oh, really? Why?"

      "Pretty sure he hates me." The guy replies, popping open his locker and grabbing his economics book. "And, he nevers lets me play during a game."

        He has no idea that I'm his daughter. I thought from dad's whole little joke on me earlier this morning would have gotten around the school. Or maybe no one put the pieces together and thought my dad was just being himself? Do people really hate my dad here? I mean, yeah, I get that he is a teacher, but I didn't think he would be that bad. 

        "Do you know where you are going?" The guy shuts his locker. 

        I glance back down at the paper. "No idea."

        He hikes his backpack over his shoulder. "I'm headed that way now. You don't have to, but if you want to-"

        "Sure." I crack a smile. This poor boy is going to regret what he said before when he finds out who I'm related to. "I'm Arden, by the way." I shut my own locker.

        "Stiles." 

        He walks me down the hallway, through the crowds of students, and down a new hallway. I never expected so many people to be so nice. Normally, people stay away from you when you're the new kid. Or, at least, that's what I learned from teen movies the week I moved here. I needed to prepare myself for high school. I've been homeschooled all my life, except for eighth grade when I literally begged my mom to let go for one year. Everything was fine until graduation. I may have lost my temper for a second and then the next thing everyone knew was the sprinkler system was going off. 

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