"You ready?" Aunt Sarah asked as we pulled up to the school.
"No," I squeaked. "I mean, yes. No. Yes. No, nope."
Aunt Sarah laughed.
"Get going. I'll be back at 2:30," she said.
"Do I have to?" I asked, watching the front of the school fill with students all greeting each other.
"Yes, you do," a voice from the back seat said. Uncle B was keeping a low profile. "You're going to do great."
"Okay, I'm ready," I said, putting my hand on the door handle. "Nope."
Suddenly there was a knock on the window. I turned around, stunned. There was a very tanned and blonde girl standing outside in a school t-shirt. Aunt Sarah rolled the window down.
"Hi!" She said. Way too perky. "Are you Samantha Joseph?"
"Yeah," I said.
"Hi! I'm Brandi. I'm the Head Cheerleader for the Mustangs and your official escort for today."
"Nice to meet you Brandi," Aunt Sarah said. "Samantha, go."
I shot her a look and plastered on a smile. I opened the door and got out of the car.
"Hi," I said, adjusting my backpack.
"Welcome to Mulholland High," Brandi said. Brandi. And a cheerleader. Could she have been anymore the stereotype?
"Thanks," I said.
"You know something?" She said. "Your mom looks familiar."
"She's not my mom. She's my aunt," I said.
"Oh. Sorry," she said.
"Why?" I asked.
"I didn't know. But she still looks familiar," Brandi said.
"Her daughter used to go here. But before we would have started. Her name was Jessica," I stopped before I revealed their last name, swallowing hard.
"Hmm," Brandi said. "Okay. So, this is the administration building. We can go get your schedule if you don't already have it."
"I have it," I said, pulling the card out of my back pocket. Brandi scrutinized it.
"You're taking almost all AP classes?" She said.
"Yeah," I said.
"Impressive. Looks like we'll have English, Trig and Music together," she said. There went that stereotype. I smiled.
"Cool," I said. "What do you play?"
"Don't laugh, okay?"
"I wouldn't,"
"Drums," she said.
"No way! My uncle Josh plays the drums!"
"Hold on a second," Brandi said. Uh oh.
"What?" I asked.
"Joseph. You're Tyler Joseph's kid, right?"
"Yeah," I said. Great. Bet I just lost my first potential friend.
"So your uncle Josh wouldn't happen to be Josh Dun, would he?" She smiled.
"Yeah. He would be," I sighed.
"Cool! He's why I got into the drums in the first place. What do you play?"
I was a little stunned, to be honest. She hadn't fangirled at me. She'd reacted like it was just matter of fact. Maybe we could be friends.
"Piano and guitar," I said.
Brandi started laughing.
"What's so funny?" I asked.
"Imagine this, you and I form a band, you play guitar and piano, maybe even ukulele, and I play the drums. We could call ourselves 22 pilots!"
I started laughing too. That was funny.
"Alright. Let's see. What are the important things you need to know," she wasn't asking me. She was thinking. "Oh. Okay, the bleachers by the track are where the stoners are. If you're into that, be careful. Coach has been known to drug test the team."
"Really?" I asked.
"Yep, but it's usually obvious, so you'd have a warning."
"How do you mean?" I asked.
"About a week before she plans a drug test, she starts getting really picky about attendance. Not that it's a problem ever, but that's what she does."
"Do you think she does it on purpose? Like, she knows you all know?"
"Oh, she totally does. She knows some of the girls and most of the boys smoke a little weed and she also knows it is very much not a performance enhancing drug. So the coaches give us the not so subtle hint. Since it's usually by request of the State and they have to give notice, the coaches make sure we know to stay clean."
"Huh. Okay. I see," I said, wondering if that was even legal, or ethical. But keeping my mouth shut.
"Friday nights there's usually a party somewhere. All the teams tend to go. You should come. They're fun. There's always something going on."
"Okay, sounds cool," I said.
"Ummm, oh, bring flip flops for the showers. They're pretty clean but still..."
"Yeah," I said.
"No one eats in the cafeteria," Brandi said. "We, being seniors, are allowed off campus at lunch. Do you drive?"
"No," I said. "And even if I did, I don't have a California licence. Or a car."
"No worries. Whoever has a car drives whoever doesn't. You can come with me in my car," she said.
"Okay, cool," I smiled.
"Do you eat meat?" She suddenly asked. Oh god, I thought.
"Uh, yeah," I said.
"Oh thank God! We like to go to this burger place nearby and while they do have a vegetarian burger they don't have anything for vegans. And they are insufferable there," she said.
I laughed, relieved.
"Okay, first bell is about to ring. Let's get you to your locker and I'll take you to English," she said.
"Cool," I said. She smiled.
We found my locker was not too far from Brandi's so we got our unnecessary stuff out of our bags and we went to class.
"Can I ask you something?" She said, quietly.
"Sure," I said.
"Do you really have a prosthetic?" She asked.
"Oh," I said. "Uh, yeah."
"Can I see it?" She asked.
"I guess," I said, pulling up my jean leg.
"Huh. It's just a pole," she said.
"Yeah, basically," I said.
"Pegleg," she said. But not in a menacing tone.
"I'm sorry, what?" I said.
"Your nickname. Pegleg. Everyone on the team has a nickname."
"Uh, I..."
"If I insulted you, I'm so sorry!" She exclaimed.
"No, I guess not. Um. I guess you can do that. I call it Patrick," I said.
"You call your leg Patrick?" Brandi asked.
"No. My stump," I grinned. Brandi frowned at me in confusion then it was like a lightbulb going on. She started laughing.
"Patrick Stump!" She said. "Like, from Fall Out Boy?"
"Yeah," I said.
"I love it. But I'm still calling you Pegleg," she smiled, putting her arm around my shoulders.
We went to homeroom, which was also our English class. Attendance was taken, the teacher welcomed me to the school and discussed how he'd planned out the year. He seemed really nice. And he was definitely going to challenge us.
After English he asked me to stay behind for a minute. Brandi had Calculus so she gave me directions to my History class and I waited for the class to file out. I swallowed. It was the first day. I couldn't possibly be in trouble already.
"Hey, Samantha," Mr. Clark said, sitting in the desk in front of me. "I just wanted to let you know that I've read your file and I understand you're staying with relatives this year?"
"Yeah," I said, confused.
"Brendon and Sarah Urie?" He asked.
"Um, yeah," I said.
"I taught their daughter, Jessica. She was one of my favourite students. I taught her in Seventh Grade and was hoping to have her again when I moved to the high school. For her senior year. Did you ever meet her?"
"No," I said. "She died before my parents adopted me."
"Oh. That's a shame. She was an incredible student. Not unlike yourself from what I've read. I just wanted to let you know, if you ever need anyone to talk to, my door is always open. I expect great things from you, Samantha. Your grades indicate that shouldn't be a problem."
"Thanks," I smiled.
"Tell Brendon and Sarah I say hi," he said.
"Okay. I will," I smiled.
"Here," he said writing on a slip of paper. "Hand that to your teacher."
It was a late slip excusing me from being marked late.
"Thanks," I said, gathering my stuff.
"See you later. Nice to meet you. I look forward to working with you."
I thanked him again and headed off to my next class.
I found it easily enough. This school was amazing. The "hallways" were all outside on the first floor.
I went into the classroom and realized I was the last one.
"Ms Joseph, I presume?" The teacher said as I walked into the room.
"Um, yeah," I said.
"You're late. I know it's the first day but I don't abide by tardiness," the teacher said. A few kids snickered.
"Oh. Uh, I have this," I said, handing him the note. He read it and 'hmmmed'.
"I see. Take your seat. There's one there in the back by the window. Don't make a habit of being late," he said.
"I won't. Sorry," I said and made my way to the empty seat.
The teacher started the lesson, handed out textbooks, explained the syllabus and his expectations - high. A few kids occasionally glanced in my direction. I tried to pretend I didn't notice but in this class, I stuck out like a sore thumb.
The bell rang at the end of class and I checked my schedule. Trig. Brandi said she had that class with me. At least I'd see a friendly face there.
"Hey, you're new," someone said coming up behind me. He was a bit taller than me, light brown hair, green eyes and not too bed looking.
"Well, no. I'm 18, so I've been around for a while," I said.
He laughed.
"I meant to the school. I don't remember seeing you before, and I know most of the seniors."
"Well, you got me there," I said.
"I'm gonna guess," he said, stepping in front of me and walking backwards so we didn't break stride. I was impressed. "You are the transfer student from Ohio that the coach of the girls' basketball team has been having a fit about. Samantha, right?"
Did the whole school know I was here?"
"Yeah," I said.
"My name's Jason. I'm Captain of the boy's team. We've heard a lot about you. The coaches are creaming themselves over you playing here this year. Are you that good?"
"I guess it depends on your definition of good," I said.
"Well, from what I've heard, you were Captain of your team in Ohio for three years, and you play on a prosthetic, which is impressive in and of itself."
"Yeah," I said.
"There's an exhibition game in a couple of weeks, JV versus Varsity. You gonna watch the boys?"
"Probably," I said. In Ohio we'd always support the boys' team.
"Cool. Because Mustangs stick together. We support each other. Boys teams and girls teams. And both teams go to State, so I expect you'll help with that."
"I hope so," I smiled. He smiled back.
"Good. What class do you have now?"
"AP Trig," I said.
"Ew. I've got AP Bio. When's your lunch?"
"Fourth," I said.
"Same. I'll see you there," he said. "By the way, the math building is the other way."
He pointed me down the hallway.
"Turn left after this hallway," he said.
I really hoped he wasn't pranking me, and turned around.
He hadn't been.
Brandi saw me as I came into the room and smiling, waved me over.
"Hi!" She said, moving her backpack off the desk beside her. "Sit. Guys, this is Samantha. The player from Ohio coach has been salivating over."
I looked at the three other girls sitting around Brandi.
"Hi. I'm Carli," the first girl said. She had brown hair and brown eyes, looked like she might be about as tall as me. "I'm a point guard. This is Casey, she's Captain."
Casey smiled.
"Welcome to LA, and to Mullholland. And the Mustangs," she said.
"I'm Karen," said the third girl. "I'm a cheerleader with Brandi."
"Hi. Nice to meet you all," I said.
"I'm Warren," a boy said, sitting behind Brandi. "I'm Centre on the boys team. I also am Captain of the baseball team and forward on the hockey team."
"Wow. Do you ever rest?" I asked.
"Nah. Rest is for the weak," he laughed.
I smiled. So far, the day had not been a disaster.
After Trig, I had lunch, and Brandi pulled me out along with her and the others. Warren had his own car and Casey went in his car. Karen and Carli came with Brandi and I. We left the school lot, with Brandi blaring Dad's music.
"Sorry," she said, as we pulled into the burger place Brandi had mentioned. "You're probably sick of hearing that music."
"Not really," I said.
"Wait, Samantha Joseph? The Samantha Joseph?" Carli said. "As in Tyler Joseph's adopted daughter, started a scholarship for her friends killed in a shooting Samantha Joseph?"
"The one and the same," Brandi said, smiling.
"No way!" Carli said. "I follow you on Instagram!"
I laughed.
"Uh, thanks. Do I follow you back?" I asked.
"I don't know," she frowned. I opened the app on my phone.
"What's your username?" I asked.
"Don't laugh at me. I was twelve," she said. "Brendonswife2008,"
I laughed. There were a lot of those usernames. I looked her up in my list of followers and saw I wasn't following her.
"I'm following you now," I smiled.
"Cool," she said.
We met up with other seniors, ordered our lunches, and I checked the nutrition info so I could bolus properly.
"Why do you have a pager?" Brandi said. "That's so, like, 1990."
I laughed.
"It's not a pager. It's an insulin pump."
"Oh! You're diabetic! Right!"
People know a lot more about me than I do about them. I can't say it's terribly comfortable knowing that.
Lunch was fun, though. Everyone seemed really nice. We exchanged phone numbers and social media accounts. Brandi took a picture of the group of us and posted it with the caption:
"Lunch with @SamJo at Burger Fever. Welcome to the Mustangs!!"
Everyone liked the photo and commented.
At the end of the day, I went out to the front of the school to find Aunt Sarah and Brandi walked out with me.
"See you tomorrow, Pegleg!" She smiled. I smiled back and walked to Aunt Sarah's car. Uncle Brendon was in the back seat again.
"How was it?" He asked. "Terrible? Do we need to help you pack?"
I laughed.
"It wasn't horrible," I said and told them about my day as Aunt Sarah drove us home.
I really hoped this could be a good, normal year for once. If I could have just one normal year.