Potion Approaching
Chapter 1
"August, up and at 'em!" My brother, Kade, calls from the other side of my bedroom door.
"Fuck." I hiss.
Mondays are not my forte. Especially when its the start of a new semester at a new school halfway across the globe from where you last lived. Doesn't sound fun, does it now?
Its not that I miss our ratty old apartment in Boston, or my moms ex-boyfriend #God-knows-what's house in New Mexico, but I'd rather settle in one place for more than 8 months. But since it seems that my mom has dated just about every and all eligible bachelors in the United States, she's moved herself, my brother, and I to the UK for some British guy named Richard in Holmes Chapel, England. Ew.
I toss the sheets off my body and sit up in bed. If I stand up too quickly, I start to feel dizzy and lightheaded, like when I smoke more than five cigarettes in one sitting. I leisurely stand to my feet, trusting that Kade woke me up fairly early; he's always been the "responsible big brother" to me.
I walk into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. Damn, I look like a mess. Almost as disgusting as this bathroom, I think. It's got mold and mildew and dirt everywhere; I wouldn't be surprised if a family of cockroaches lives under the sink. For some reason, this pisses me off even more than my moms shit choice in life style, so I exit the bathroom and grab my pack of cigarettes, then return and lock the door closed. I stick one in my mouth and light it up, inhaling in the familiar process. Who cares if Dick's house reeks of smoke? I'm sure we'll be out of here at the end of the month, anyways.
After showering, doing my hair and makeup, and getting dressed, I make my way into the living room to search for Kade. I find him sneakily trying to pry the car keys out of my mom's piss-drunk, passed out hands on the couch. Succeeding, he turns and sees me, then motions his head to the door, clearly indicating that its time to go. I guess coffee and cigarettes will suffice for breakfast this morning.
"Alright, I guess call me after school ends, or whenever you want me to pick you up, okay?" Kade asks as we pull up to the parking lot in Holmes Chapel High School, home of the Knights.
"Yeah, sure."
Stepping out of the car, I carefully observe my surroundings, immediately making out each clique, inwardly laughing at how no matter where in the world you are, high school is always the same.
I head toward the front doors of the school, greatful that all eyes are averted elsewhere than on me. The last thing I need right now is to be the new girl that everybody has to get a look at. To my luck, the administrations office is the very first thing you see once inside the building, so I don't have to ask anyone for directions. I walk up to a desk at which an old, frail women works behind.
"Hi, um, I'm new here, so I don't really know what I'm supposed to do right now..." I say. Hopefully she catches on.
"Oh, of course. Just fill these papers out and bring them back to me. I'll get you a schedule and you'll be all set up in no time." The woman hands me a clipboard and a pen. I smile and thank her, then take a seat on a nearby chair and begin filling out the paperwork.
About halfway through the paperwork, a boy walks out of a door labeled "Principals Office". Pretty self explanatory if you ask me. He's tall with curly chestnut locks and piercing green eyes; that lie right on me. I'd look behind me, but I'm sitting up against a plain wall. Jeez, creep. I do my best to avoid his burning gaze by looking away, but when I look back again, he's still watching me intently. God, what's his problem? Is it that obvious I'm not from here? I almost squirm under is watch, dying for this award moment to end. I can't tell, if he'd angry, or curious, or maybe even both. And, quite frankly, I don't think I really want to know.
"Mr. Styles." A man emerges from the Principals Office, assumingly the Principal.
Without a look back, the boy, Mr. Styles I guess, walks off and out into the school, only breaking his stare when I'm out of his sight.
Oh, what am I in store for this year?
"Fuck." I hiss.
Mondays are not my forte. Especially when its the start of a new semester at a new school halfway across the globe from where you last lived. Doesn't sound fun, does it now?
Its not that I miss our ratty old apartment in Boston, or my moms ex-boyfriend #God-knows-what's house in New Mexico, but I'd rather settle in one place for more than 8 months. But since it seems that my mom has dated just about every and all eligible bachelors in the United States, she's moved herself, my brother, and I to the UK for some British guy named Richard in Holmes Chapel, England. Ew.
I toss the sheets off my body and sit up in bed. If I stand up too quickly, I start to feel dizzy and lightheaded, like when I smoke more than five cigarettes in one sitting. I leisurely stand to my feet, trusting that Kade woke me up fairly early; he's always been the "responsible big brother" to me.
I walk into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. Damn, I look like a mess. Almost as disgusting as this bathroom, I think. It's got mold and mildew and dirt everywhere; I wouldn't be surprised if a family of cockroaches lives under the sink. For some reason, this pisses me off even more than my moms shit choice in life style, so I exit the bathroom and grab my pack of cigarettes, then return and lock the door closed. I stick one in my mouth and light it up, inhaling in the familiar process. Who cares if Dick's house reeks of smoke? I'm sure we'll be out of here at the end of the month, anyways.
After showering, doing my hair and makeup, and getting dressed, I make my way into the living room to search for Kade. I find him sneakily trying to pry the car keys out of my mom's piss-drunk, passed out hands on the couch. Succeeding, he turns and sees me, then motions his head to the door, clearly indicating that its time to go. I guess coffee and cigarettes will suffice for breakfast this morning.
"Alright, I guess call me after school ends, or whenever you want me to pick you up, okay?" Kade asks as we pull up to the parking lot in Holmes Chapel High School, home of the Knights.
"Yeah, sure."
Stepping out of the car, I carefully observe my surroundings, immediately making out each clique, inwardly laughing at how no matter where in the world you are, high school is always the same.
I head toward the front doors of the school, greatful that all eyes are averted elsewhere than on me. The last thing I need right now is to be the new girl that everybody has to get a look at. To my luck, the administrations office is the very first thing you see once inside the building, so I don't have to ask anyone for directions. I walk up to a desk at which an old, frail women works behind.
"Hi, um, I'm new here, so I don't really know what I'm supposed to do right now..." I say. Hopefully she catches on.
"Oh, of course. Just fill these papers out and bring them back to me. I'll get you a schedule and you'll be all set up in no time." The woman hands me a clipboard and a pen. I smile and thank her, then take a seat on a nearby chair and begin filling out the paperwork.
About halfway through the paperwork, a boy walks out of a door labeled "Principals Office". Pretty self explanatory if you ask me. He's tall with curly chestnut locks and piercing green eyes; that lie right on me. I'd look behind me, but I'm sitting up against a plain wall. Jeez, creep. I do my best to avoid his burning gaze by looking away, but when I look back again, he's still watching me intently. God, what's his problem? Is it that obvious I'm not from here? I almost squirm under is watch, dying for this award moment to end. I can't tell, if he'd angry, or curious, or maybe even both. And, quite frankly, I don't think I really want to know.
"Mr. Styles." A man emerges from the Principals Office, assumingly the Principal.
Without a look back, the boy, Mr. Styles I guess, walks off and out into the school, only breaking his stare when I'm out of his sight.
Oh, what am I in store for this year?
Notes
Alright, this is really just an introduction to this story that I'm still contemplating on writing.An experiment, if you will.
And if you actually read this and like it, please comment so and subscribe as a symbol of your appreciation.
-Daisy
12/8/13