Chapter one Highschool
I always feel like I’m searching for something. Something besides crazy hair, gold jewelry and oversized earrings. Not a good reputation or adoration. Not beauty or looks or nice clothing.
Something that will be me, want me and know me. For me. This is the story of how I fell in love with Tayo.
I stare out the car window into the musty, cold world. Thinking about flowers and sun and swimming and how much I wished summer would come.
But the middle of March isn’t very festive, mostly full of frogs, rain and mud.
My face wrinkles at the sight of another frog hopping onto the window for a second, then leaping onto the road to its death.
Ugh. I think.
“Lily, please focus,” Mom says turning back in her chair to face me,”these admissions are important.”
“I know,” I groan, picking my pencil up again and staring at the admission sheet not knowing what to write.
“Can I do it later?” I ask, knowing the answer before the words touch her lips.
“No! Lily, we’re going to be at the highschool in five minutes!! Fill it out!” She demands. She turns back around in her seat and I throw the form to the side.
No thanks. I think. I don’t want to go to Highschool.
We soon pull up into an uneven, gravel trail leading to three fairly large buildings.
The buildings are different sizes but all look the same: a faded Manila color with torn pieces from the building, a barb wired fence, a concrete path stretching from and to all three buildings. Is this really what a high school looks like? I think in disgust.
The car comes to a halt and I know it’s time for me to say goodbye to everything I’ve known.
My mother jumps out of the car almost tumbling over and opens my door for me. “Come on,” she says wavering for me to get out. I grab the unfilled form and I jog up to my mother.
“Do I really have to go to school here? I mean I’m fifteen, I think I know enough for now,” I suggest. “No,” she says stiffly not looking at me. “You could homeschool me again! I would enjoy that! I’ll be a great pupil,” I plead.
She stops and turns sharply tome catching me off guard. “Don’t you understand! Don’t you get it! Things aren’t going to be the same! Your father is dead! Do you really think I could homeschool you and make money to feed you! Please just bare with me and don’t make my life more difficult!”
A tear runs down her cheek and I feel guilty for saying anything. We continue up to the first building and my mother opens the door and it creaks and I feel like I’m in a horror movie. A short stout lady comes from a hall wearing a deep blue dress and pointy black high heels. She has brown hair tied up into a bun and has a small round face that smiles at my mother.
“Hello! My name is Litta Pul. And I assume your Mrs. Delmare, mother to Lily Delmare?” She says in a high squeaky voice. “That is correct,” my mother says shaking her hand with a comforting smile.
Mrs. Pul turns to me “Do you have your admission form?” She asks holding out her hand gesturing to the piece of paper that sits in my pocket. “Yes,” I say, pulling it out and giving it to her. She unfolds it and stares at it dumbfounded. “Well. I suppose we’re just going to have to assume that your a wonderful person,” she says starting to walk away.
I follow her waving to my mother silently telling her that I’ll be fine on my own. She leads me down a dark narrow hall. I start to worry that I’ve been put in an asylum then I hear loud voices coming from a door. “You made it just in time for lunch,” Mrs. Pul says, opening the door for me and what I see stops me in my tracks.
Thousands of people, probably my age, sitting eating foods at hundreds of tables. I don’t think I’ve ever seen this many people in my life except the one terrifying time I went to the town mall. “Are you alright?” Mrs. Pul says worriedly looking in my eyes, “can I get you anything?” I gulp. “No,” I say reassuring.
I unwillingly put one foot in front of the other until I’ve come upon an empty table. Oh well. Better this way. I think. I slide into a chair and I timidly fidget with a rubix cube. My stomach growls and I feel guilty for not packing a lunch when my mother told me too.
“Hi,” I hear a voice say.