"RIIIIIIIIINGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!"
I groaned. My alarm clock was screaming its head off. I reached over my bed and turned it off. Peace at last. Suddenly, I remembered that it was the first day of school today. I dragged myself out of bed. I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and brushed my hair. Then I ran down the stairs to eat breakfast.
"Good morning, Bree," Mom greeted.
"Morning," I replied. My sisters were late to breakfast. Apparently, they had all woken up late. For breakfast, we had toast, eggs, and milk. After I was done with breakfast, I rushed up to the bathroom and brushed my teeth again. Then, I hurried into my room and started picking out my outfit. I decided to wear a plain white short-sleeved v-neck shirt, a soft purple cardigan-ish jacket, black skinny jeans, and white high-top Converse. And, of course, my purple beanie overtop of my regular ponytail and many, MANY bracelets. I packed my school supplies in my Kanken backpack and attached a few of my favorite keyrings. Then I went back downstairs.
I saw Kiara wearing a cozy blue shetland sweater and white cut-off jeans. She had on her checkered white-and-black Vans sneakers, and her pretty blonde hair was tied back into her usual bun with a white-and-black polka dotted scrunchie. Her backpack was blue-and-purple gradient, and she had on small silver hoop earrings. Stacie had on jean shorts and a yellow striped t-shirt along with her cap, and she was wearing white Nike high-top runners. Skipper was wearing black jean shorts, a white short-sleeved shirt with red, yellow, and purple stripes, a purple denim sleeveless jacket with a few pins on it, and purple Converse.
I waited until the school bus pulled up into our driveway. My sisters were going to ride their bus to Los Angeles Elementary School (it was right next to my new junior high school), too, but theirs hadn't arrived yet.
"Have a great day at school, Bree!" Mom and Dad called as my sisters waved.
"Thanks!" I said back. I took a deep breath. It was time to face junior high and eighth grade. It was my first year as a teenager. My heart was thumping wildly as I walked up to the bus, but of course I didn't portray it on my neutral face. Then, I took my first step into my junior high adventure.
I climbed up the stairs and scanned the area to find an empty seat. I tried not to make eye contact with anyone, because everyone was staring at me. Putting on a straight and even facial expression, I made my way to the back of the bus and sat down. I looked out the window, not wanting to be the center of attention. The bus started forward. After we rode for a bit, the bus stopped at a new destination. I was happy to see that it was Isabella's house. Isabella had been in my friend group in elementary school. She was very rich, and her parents were the owners of Pandora, a famous jewelry store, at the mall. That's why she was always so fabulously dressed and jeweled. Since we were going to junior high now, I was sure that she would look even more amazing. Isabella hadn't been exactly the kindest friend, but she usually hadn't judged me or done anything mean to me and had helped me when I needed it. I was pretty excited to see Isabella again.
Just then, I saw Isabella elegantly walking towards the bus. When she boarded the bus, everyone gasped. She was even more gorgeous than I remembered. She was wearing a dark blue rhinestone-studded denim jacket that made her deep blue eyes pop and a white pleated skirt along with a black shirt and cute schoolgirl sneakers. She also had on a necklace and a black sapphire headband. Her backpack was blue, her favorite color. It was decorated with glittering rhinestones. Her dark brown hair was curled wavy. Personally, I thought that it was a bit much just for the first day of school, and it was something that I would never wear even to a fancy ballroom party, but she still looked amazing.
"Hey, Isabella!" I called in a friendly tone.
"Oh . . . hello, Bree," she responded, raising an eyebrow as if I was a piece of forgotten pizza stuck under her sneaker shoe. "I'm sitting in the front with my other friends from Hollywood, just in case you wanted to ask if I was going to sit next to you," she said matter-of-factly, studying her jeweled nails.
Uhh . . . I wasn't GOING to. But wow, she had friends from Hollywood? I gasped internally. We lived in Los Angeles, so I guess the daughter of the owners of Pandora would have celebrity friends from Hollywood.
"Okay, well, have fun," I told her, raising my eyebrows a little.
She sashayed to the front of the bus. Somehow, Isabella had changed over the summer. She had become a lot more . . . unfriendly and self-obsessed, even though she hadn't been REALLY friendly before, either.
Whatever, I thought bitterly. I had new friends to make in junior high, anyway. IF anyone even ended up talking to a weird murder mystery-loving girl like me.
The bus stopped a couple more times before we finally reached Los Angeles Junior High School. During our stops, new people got on. I saw some of Isabella's Hollywood friends get on, and they were dressed and jeweled even more nicely than Isabella. Some people were horribly dressed, with dirty sneakers, smelly socks, linting sweaters, thawing jeans, and puke-colored jackets. Most people were pretty averagely dressed, like me. Here's a minor, VERY MINOR detail: nobody talked or sat with me on the way to school.
When we finally reached Los Angeles Junior High School, which was right next to Los Angeles Elementary School (where my sisters went), I hurried off the bus and went up the front steps. People shoved past me, buffeting me like crazy on the way. I stumbled and blinked. I opened the front doors and walked in. The school was huge. It looked really new, even though it wasn't. The floors were shiny, the walls and lockers were clean, and the doors didn't creak when you opened them. The best part about the school was that our lockers were colored purple, pink, and blue. I really hoped that I would be assigned to a purple locker, since it was my all-time favorite color. I walked to the front desk and told the secretary my name and grade and asked for my timetable and locker assignment. The secretary gave me both of those and sent me on my way. Yay, my locker color was purple! It was next to the girls' locker room (basically the changing room) and the English classroom. English was my favorite subject. My locker number was 418, and my combination was 4-14-8. I matched it up and opened my purple locker. It was shiny inside, with a small shelf at the top for my books and a few hooks for my backpack and jacket. I put my backpack inside and took out my school supplies.
Just then, I heard laughter from behind me. I turned around and saw Isabella and her Hollywood friends coming toward the locker next to mine. They were giggling and talking together. I eyed them but pretended not to pay any attention. Isabella came up to the blue locker next to mine and put in her combo. I guess she had gotten her favorite color, too.
"Oh, hey, Bree," she said, slightly rolling her eyes. "What are YOU doing here?"
"This actually happens to be my locker," I told her calmly, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh, so we're STUCK with neighboring lockers," she said, a disgusted look on her face. I had a bad feeling about our future so-called FRIENDSHIP.
"Yeah, Isabella. Do you have a problem with that?" I asked point-blank.
"Just mind your own business," she snapped.
Every fiber of my being wanted to shoot some snarky remark back at her, but I didn't want my "perfect" first day of school to start off with an argument, and the last thing I wanted to do at my new school was to make a bad first impression. Isabella turned around and started talking with her friends again. They had looked me up and down this whole time. I rolled my eyes and looked at my timetable.
I had Math first. I gathered some binders, notebooks, my calculator and ruler, and my pencil case and headed to Class 112. I checked in with the math teacher, Ms. Keil, and she told me where my assigned desk was. I sat down at my new desk and waited until the first bell rang and everyone was inside. Isabella was in my class. Just great, I groaned in my thoughts.
"Okay, class, my name is Ms. Keil," she introduced herself, smiling. "Welcome to your first year at LAJH. Let's have everyone tell the class their name and what they did this summer," she suggested. "Young sir back there, starting with you."
After the members of my class introduced themselves, Isabella said, "My name is Isabella. This summer, I made friends from Hollywood. They all starred in a famous movie."
I rolled my eyes at her childish little remark. Then, before I knew it, it was my turn.
"My name is Bree. I went to Las Vegas this summer," I shared.
After all of the introducing was over, we got started with real math.
"Does anyone here know how to find the circumference and area of a circle?" Ms. Keil asked. I raised my hand. No one else did.
"Yes, Ms. Campbell?"
"For the circumference, you first find the diameter, which is the line that is right in the middle of it, and then you multiply it with 3.14, which is pi," I responded calmly. "And for the area, you find the radius, which is half of the diameter, square it, and multiply the product by 3.14, or pi."
"Very good, Ms. Campbell," Ms. Keil applauded.
"Thank you, Ms. Keil," I said as I tried my very best not to smile like an idiot and keep a polite, straight face on. I casually glanced behind me at Isabella. She was glaring at me. Well, let the war begin, I thought.
"Isabella, do you have anything to tell us? It looks like you have some negative feelings about Bree for some reason," Ms. Keil called. I was laughing so hard inside. Take THAT, Isabella! Isabella shot a frantic look at Ms. Keil. I bet she was now REALLY in a hurry to defend herself. But instead of yelling excuses at Ms. Keil, she calmed herself down and plastered a huge, fake smile on her face.
"No, Ms. Keil, I was just scrutinizing a speck of dirt on the wall beside Bree," she lied. I could not BELIEVE that girl. I sighed and turned back to the front.
"Okay, class, now we will work on some practice sheets on circumference and diameter, now that Ms. Campbell has given us an excellent definition," Ms. Keil told us. She handed us the worksheets, and I filled it out quickly. I looked over at Isabella. She was still stuck on the first question. I stifled a laugh. Even though Isabella was really rich and pretty and athletic, she had never been the smart one. On the other hand, I had pretty much been the brains of the group. I was pretty okay at sports, but I wasn't that rich and didn't exactly look like a model. I got up from my desk and handed my worksheet to Ms. Keil.
"Thank you, Ms. Campbell," she said. I was the first person done. I walked back to my desk and fiddled with my bangs until the bell rang.
"It's time for your next classes," Ms. Keil told us. "Bye everyone!"
I looked at my timetable. I had English next.
I headed to Class 101, where English class was being held. It was right beside my locker. When I arrived at Class 101, I noticed that the teacher was a man. His name was Mr. Brown.
"Hello, my name is Breanne Campbell," I said. I had to use my full name because of recognition purposes.
"Welcome," he replied with a huge smile. He assigned me my seat. I sat down. No Isabella this time. I was pretty sure that she had English after lunch, and I didn't think we had any other classes together except lunch (but that didn't really count) and P.E.. Ugh. She would squish me like a bug in P.E.. But I'll squish her like a bug in Math, I thought triumphantly. And I already did.
Before I knew it, English class started.
"Hi everybody, I'm Mr. Brown. I'll be your English teacher this year. First, let's introduce ourselves. Since this is English class, you can say your name and which type of writing is your favorite: Persuasive, Expository, Descriptive, or Narrative. Breanne, do you want to start?"
"My name is Bree, and my favorite type of writing is Narrative, because I like writing short stories and dialogues," I said.
After everyone had introduced themselves, Mr. Brown told us, "Alright, thank you, class. Now let's get started on Creative Writing. You will all be writing about something, anything you want, and you will have to use your imagination to describe and expand on it. You will learn about all the formatted, structured writing later in the year." I got started. My story was based on a girl who fell asleep and found herself in a magical world, unable to get out. I was scribbling away when the bell rang. Time had flown by. This is why I loved English. I thanked Mr. Brown and went back to my locker to check on my timetable.
I had Social Studies next. I was pretty fond of it since I loved history. It was in Class 186. When I walked into the classroom, I noticed that there were many posters attached to the walls. There were pictures of globes, maps, different nations of people, and decorations. I had a feeling that this class was going to be better than I thought. The teacher really surprised me: she was wearing a yellow polka-dotted polo shirt, a purple striped skirt with black knee-high socks, and huge yellow drop earrings that looked like bananas. Her frizzy brown hair was all over the place, and her loose black glasses wobbled on top of her pointy nose.
The teacher told me where to sit and started talking about different ancient people like the First Nations of Canada, the Europeans, and the Inuit. We all listened intently, and I studiously took some notes in one of my new notebooks. Then we filled out a worksheet that asked questions about all that we learned.
"Pssst . . . !" a voice behind me whispered. I turned around. It was a boy with brown hair named Marcus.
"May I help you with something?" I asked.
"I need help on the first question," he said.
I hesitated. Were we even allowed to help each other? I glanced at the teacher, whose name was Ms. Capris. She was busy fumbling about a book that she was reading, so I whispered out of the corner of my mouth, "The First Nations are from Canada, NOT here in the US."
"Okay, thanks . . . ?" he said.
"It's Bree."
"Thanks, Bree."
I looked around me. Nobody had been watching. Besides, Ms. Capris hadn't told us that this was a test, anyway. But I decided that next time someone asked me to tell them the answer to a question, regardless of whether it was on a worksheet or a test, I would say that I couldn't help them. The bell rang, startling me out of my thoughts.
"Time to go, class," Ms. Capris told us. I handed my worksheet in. Since it was the first day of school, I didn't have P.E. until tomorrow. Instead, all the students had been emailed that they would have a free forty-five minute block until lunch for doing whatever they wished, as long as it was useful and school-related. I decided to use this time to wander around the school to learn more about my new surroundings. But when I reached my locker, I realized that Isabella was there, along with her nosy Hollywood friends. They were practically HOGGING my locker without even realizing it themselves, swarming around it.
"Um, excuse me," I said in a loud voice. They all shot me a dirty look and moved aside, like, an INCH. I sighed and opened my locker. In the process, I accidentally shoved a Hollywood girl who had on the exact same outfit as Isabella except in shimmery red. She had 22-K gold earrings dangling from her ears, and her nails were painted sparkly gold. She looked at me like I was some huge, slobbering ELEPHANT that had just barged in without any permission.
"Uh, EXCUSE ME?! WHO are YOU? And why are you SHOVING me?!" The girl yelled. All of the Hollywood girls were now staring at me rudely.
"My NAME is BREE. And it was by accident. And besides, YOU guys are the ones who aren't giving me any space. This is my locker here, AHEM," I shot back, but without raising my voice. They scowled back at me.
"Ew, WHAT are you WEARING?! Is that outfit from the DUMP?! And WHAT is that hideous THING on your head?!" Another Hollywood girl with a purple outfit asked rudely.
"For YOUR information, it's called a BEANIE. B-E-A-N-I-E. Oh, and also, this is SCHOOL, not a ballroom DANCEOFF!!!" I said. These stupid girls probably had a COMBINED IQ that was LESS than that of a SLICE of WEEK-OLD MOLDY PEPPERONI PIZZA. They sashayed away from me. Oh, PLEASE, let them GO! I was so sick and tired of Isabella and her SNOTTY friends. But I wasn't going to let them bring me down. EVER.
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The day had been pretty good so far except for the drama with the Hollywood girls. Isabella hadn't been as mean as them, but she had still changed over the summer.
After some thinking, I headed to the gym first to check out what it looked like.
Once I arrived, I scanned the area. It was pretty large and cool, with all the exercise equipment and everything.
Just then, I spotted my old friend from elementary school practicing different exercises by the bouncy balls. Her name was Katie, and she had been my closest friend there. She had blonde hair like me but had beautiful blue eyes instead of cool brown ones like mine. She also had multiple streaks of pink in her hair. I walked over to her and said hello.
"Hi, Katie! It's so nice to see you again!"
Katie turned around.
"OMG! Is that you, Bree?" She exclaimed.
"Yeah! Are you exercising?' I asked.
"Yup! I'm trying out for the cheer, volleyball, and soccer teams tomorrow. Are you trying out?" She asked me.
"Oh, well, I'm not really into that kind of stuff, so no," I responded.
"I see! I'm bummed you're not trying out with me, but I hope you find another passion!" She said, smiling.
I sat on a bench and watched Katie stretch and practice shooting goals for soccer. I also noticed that she was focused on her jumps and synchronization for cheer. Before we knew it, it was lunchtime. I was so glad that I had found my friend Katie. At least SHE hadn't turned into some Hollywood DIVA.
I waited for Katie to change back into her normal clothes in the girls' locker room. She was wearing a pink, black, and white baseball bomber jacket with her initial, "K", stitched on it with a black shirt and blue skinny jeans. She had on a pair of black-and-white low-top Converse. I had to admit that I liked her outfit, even though I wasn't a huge fan of pink. We headed to the cafeteria for lunch.
We lined up and put some beef jerky with sauce on our plates. We also had white rice and orange juice. For dessert, we had chocolate sundaes. Katie and I talked about all of the things we had missed over the summer. I glanced around our lunch table and saw the Hollywood girls sitting smack in the middle of the cafeteria. By now, I had come to know all of their names: the girl in the red was named Chloe, the girl in the purple was named Mackenzie, another girl in green was named Madison, also called 'Maddie' by her friends, and the last girl was named Jacqueline, and she was wearing the outfit in pink. And of course, there was Isabella in the blue outfit.
I told Katie all about what happened with the five Hollywood girls, and she totally agreed with me that they were all a bunch of no-good, snotty girls. When the bell rang for lunch to end, we said goodbye to each other and planned to meet again in Study Hall, which was when we next had the same time slot together.
The rest of the classes of the day flew by. I listened to all of the teachers intently and learned a lot in just one day. I liked all of the teachers, but I had this feeling that the P.E. teacher would be a total pain in the neck. Why? Because almost ALL of the P.E. teachers I have EVER met are like that!
Before I knew it, it was the last class of the day: Study Hall. I met Katie again, and we helped each other study for our upcoming "Assessment Tests". I found out that Katie was REALLY good at Art and Music, and I was good at Math and English. For Math, we both had a unit assessment test about fractions, percentages, decimals, circle graphs, and circumferences and areas of circles. It was a pretty big assessment. If we scored 90% or above on it, we would get to be part of the Enriched Math 8 Program, where we would be able to do more challenging problems, assignments, and projects for extra credit and enrichment for the math portion of our report cards all throughout the school year. I really hoped I would score well on the assessment and get into the enriched program.
The purpose of the assessment was to grade how much learning we had received in elementary school. I was pretty confident about all of those units since I had always paid attention in class, so I didn't spend TOO much time stressing out about the assessment.
However, there was ALSO an English test coming up. It was going to be based on parts of speech and figurative language. Katie and I tested each other and talked about the upcoming tests. After Study Hall was over, the bell rang, signaling dismissal. WHEW! The school day had been SO LONG but SO SHORT at the same time. I was really looking forward to going home, relaxing on the couch, and listening to my favorite playlist. I said goodbye to Katie and went to my locker to pack up my things. I was a little sad because Katie rode a different school bus to and from school, so we wouldn't be able to sit together, but it was fine. I wasn't some crybaby with NO LIFE WHATSOEVER who wept over petty little things and kept hearing people tell them to GET A LIFE, unlike SOME people I knew.
I stepped onto the school bus and took a seat in the back. I didn't want to see Isabella and her snotty friends again. I looked out the window, eager to get home. The day had been pretty exhausting, but it had been fun and interesting. It was always good to experience something new every once in a while. I had met new teachers, new students, and a new building. I actually looked forward to tomorrow.
"Bus stop #5 - Breanne C.," the bus driver boomed, startling me out of my thoughts. I got up and walked down the aisle to the door. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the Hollywood girls scowling at me, but I didn't pay them any attention. I thanked the bus driver and walked down the stairs and into my house.
"Mom, I'm home," I called.
"How was your first day at school?" Mom asked, coming to the front door.
"It was pretty good, but it was exhausting," I replied.
"That's good," she said. I walked upstairs and into my room. My room was pretty large, since Mom and Dad had given me the second-largest room in the house, after theirs, of course. That's ONE good thing about being the oldest sibling in a family. Dad was still at work, and he always came back home at around 8:00 P.M..
My room was painted white, with a simple white and purple full-size bed. On the walls around the bed, there were Christmas lights hanging, which I used as a nightlight. My desk was white, and I had a soft purple chair. My shelf was also white, and I had books (lots and LOTS of books, mostly thick murder mystery novels) on it. In the middle of my room, there was a pale purple carpet. My nightstand was white with three drawers, and my alarm clock sat on it, as well as my white night lamp and my planner. My dresser was white with silver knobs, and I kept all of my pants and socks in there. My beloved collection of beanies that I always wore were also in there (I didn't put my purple one in there, though, because it was special). I also had a white and silver jewelry box on top of my dresser that contained all my bracelets and wristbands. I also had a rack on it that had hair ties and scrunchies on it. I kept my tops, jackets, shoes, and bags inside my closet, which was also white with silver knobs. In one corner of my room, I had my favorite section of all: my DJ station. There, I was able to connect all of my music to this purple DJ machine thing and change the songs around to my liking and even make new songs. There were headphones and other devices scattered around it. This was where I could express my freedom and really play into my passion for music. I absolutely loved it.
I flopped down on my soft bed and thought about the day. It had been really tiring, but I was starting to get the feeling that I was now a REAL, sophisticated junior high student, and I was proud of myself for that. I was also so glad that I had found Katie today, instead of just Isabella. I was pretty sure that all of my other friends had gone to another junior high school.
After I listened to some music and did some homework, Mom called me down for dinner.
"Bree, time to eat dinner!"
"Coming!" I yelled back. I jumped up and scrambled down into the dining room. Mom had cooked pizza for dinner today. My favorite food was sushi, but pizza was another of my favorites. Just then, the door opened. Dad had come home!
"Hi, Dad!" I called.
"Hi, Bree! Hope you had a good day at school today!"
I devoured the slice of pepperoni pizza and went up to the washroom to take a shower. After I was done, I dressed in my favorite purple pajamas - a cozy tank top and shorts with an optional button-up cardigan/sweater - and did some more homework until it was finally time to sleep.
"Good night, Mom," I said.
"Good night, Bree," she called back.
I fell asleep and drifted peacefully off to dreamland, exhausted from the school day.