I walked through the halls of my new school, taking everything in. The teacher taking me to my homeroom was an older man who told me to call him Mr. Gallagher. He said he was taking me to my new homeroom, where class was just about to start. As I entered the room, I knew everyone was already in defined cliques, the seating arrangements said enough. Everyone knew each other. Everyone but me. I don’t know why my parents switched me to this private school, I was happy enough at the old public one. “Everyone,” Mr. Gallagher said, “I have an announcement to make. This is Kelayna.” “It’s Celaena,” I whispered in what I hoped was a quiet enough voice so that the students wouldn’t hear. Teachers always got my name wrong. “Urm, Celaena. I hope you will all welcome her into your school. Celaena, why don’t you take a seat somewhere?” I walked into the clutter of desks. Various students pointed me in many directions giving me useless advice. Eventually, I chose a desk in the second row, right next to a window. A tall goth kid sat in front of me, which wasn’t a problem, as he looked to be asleep. To my right, a blonde girl was primping her hair and looking at herself in a mirror. Why didn’t the teacher care? After what seemed like an hour of Mr. Gallagher rattling on and on about lockers, responsibility and whatnot, the bell rang. Everyone jumped up, except the goth, who was still asleep and completely oblivious to what was going on. I found my locker and opened it. Unlike at my old school, I didn’t have to share with anyone. A tall athletic guy came over to me. “Hey. Trade lockers with me. I’m over on the end, right near the entrance. So, what do you say? Huh?” He looked like he would beat me up if I said no, so I nodded. I grabbed my backpack, and raced over to the locker he had indicated. People were allowed to do that? What kind of school was this? As if in answer to my question, I saw the banner with the school’s motto written on it in bright red letters. “Silverleaf School of Fine Arts, We Let Our Kids Be Free!” Freedom. That was a subjective term. I’d always thought that it was fairly objective, to have control of your own life and possessions. But this took freedom to another level. No mandatory work, or anything! I shuddered. What would my next class, biology, be like? I headed over to the cafeteria for lunch. At the door, a giant tablet was situated right inside the entrance. Kids pushed buttons and then entered. I got in the line towards the tablet, which wasn’t very long. When I arrived at the tablet, I saw a long list of names, sorted in alphabetical order. I scrolled down to the “L” section to look for my name, but there was nothing in between Lemmick and Lewis. Then I noticed a button in the far corner that said “register new student”. I tapped it, and it showed me to a screen with many fields of required information. I entered my name, selected the vegetarian option, opted out of receiving the day’s menu ahead of time through email and put in my birthday. Then I hit done, and was presented with a menu of appetizers, entrees, and desserts. I decided on a fruit salad, PB&J sandwich, and a snickerdoodle cookie. It then took a picture of me, which I found very odd. I wandered the room, looking for a seat at a table with people that looked like I could get along with. I picked a table with several people playing games on their phones while they waited, and I sat down. Immediately, they all scooted away about three feet from me. I sighed, and fell into the booth seat next to them, which was empty. I pulled out my book and began to read. Ah, reading. It was one of the places I could always retreat to when I was discontent. Like right now. I was absorbed in my book, and right when the protagonist, Zoey, was about to get her soul shattered, someone interrupted me. “Excuse me,” a boy said, hovering over me, “ Sorry to interrupt, but do you have your housing plan done? I’m supposed to check that with everyone.” “Housing plan?” I replied, “What do you mean? Oh. Right. Yeah, I have it done, I just don’t have a roommate. I prefer to keep it like that.” His face fell. “What?” I asked, “Is something wrong?” “No, it’s just that I wish I could room with someone. Even though you’re a girl, I thought you might know someone who…” he trailed off into the distance, distracted by someone on the other side of the cafeteria. His face reddened. “I’ll be going now. Okay?” He stuttered the last part out, as if he was particularly embarrassed. Then it came to me. He thought I was cute! I realised it seconds after he had left and was about to call him back, but thought better of it. I guess he was kind of cute too. I mean, he had this look about him that was kind of effortlessly nerdy and handsome at the same time. Before I would get wrapped up in drama, I slipped back into my book. It was hard to stop thinking about him. In the book I was reading, Zoey’s long-time crush, Heath, who had the same sandy hair as the
boy who had talked to me previously. After a little bit of work, I finally found the biology room. It looked just like the science lab at my old school, just with newer and better materials. I got a seat in the front of the room, waiting for the professor. When the bell to begin class finally rang, he entered. He was a tall thin man with very large eyebrows and glasses. “Good afternoon class,” he said in a deep voice, “I am Mr. Atkins. I will be your biology education assistant for this year.” As he addressed us, I looked around the room to see the other students. The girl who had been primping her hair earlier was there, and she was applying a fresh coat of what looked like designer lipstick. If that was even a thing, of course. There were about five other students in the room. I guess attending all classes except homeroom were optional, just like everything else at this bizarre school. Then I saw him. Sitting in the back, alone. It was the boy from the cafeteria! One by one, I learned the names of the other students when Mr. Atkins called us up to get our textbooks. The designer girl was named Lexie Cooper, a jock guy I had never seen (Which wasn’t surprising as it was my first day) was named Shane Walton, an artsy looking girl was named Karina Carson, an asian girl was named Nishiyama Hiroko, an african-american guy was Braden Thompson, and my dream boy was named Alanus Serrill. The perfect name. I was last, for some obscure reason, even though my first and last names were both in the first portion of the alphabet. Mr. Atkins wrote down some page numbers on the board and handed out worksheets. I turned to the pages he had instructed us to, and began to read. The passage was all about cells, and the differences between a plant and animal cell in terms of composition. The worksheet was fairly easy, providing that it was exactly what was in the chapter, just in the form of questions and different wording. I finished a little before the bell was supposed to ring, and took that time to observe my fellow students, who hopefully took this seriously. The designer girl had also finished, and now was embellishing her sheet with doodles of fashion and love, and Karina did a similar thing, except with anime. Shane and Braden were talking in a corner, they were most likely done, and Nishiyama was still working at the sheet, nearly done. Alanus was no where to be seen, until I looked over to my left at the opposite side of my lab table. There he was, sitting next to me, looking at my paper. “Number four isn’t miosis, it’s mitosis. Mitosis is for water, and miosis, well, I’ll leave you to it.” He got up and returned to his corner, blushing profusely all the way. I felt my cheeks getting hot, from embarrassment that I had gotten a problem wrong, and because the cutest guy I had ever seen had just talked to me willingly. Algebra went similarly. The teacher wrote down some numbers on the board, and told us to do the problems on those pages. Algebra was my academic weakness, so I made sure that I had that as part of my schedule so that I could get better at it. I didn’t expect him to be in my class again, but, there he was. Helping me with problem #56: If x=23y+17, what is y? When the bell that signaled my freedom rang, I stayed behind to pick up my pencil case, which had exploded onto the floor. Yet once more, he was by my side. “Celaena, right?” he asked in a soft voice. I nodded. “I’m Alanus.” “I know.” I replied, in a voice that was barely a whisper. He stood up, stroking my long black hair. I sighed, and went to my dorm. When I arrived at the room, I discovered a bed, two chairs, a desk, and a television. There was a large closet on the opposite side of the room from the windows. The sheets on the bed were a soft teal, and the curtains were heavy mint green tartan fabric. I opened the closet door, and discovered that it was full of uniforms, sweaters, skirts, and blouses. On the inside of the door was a full length mirror. I turned again towards the entrance, and found a bathroom, complete with a tub/shower, sink, toilet, and vanity mirror. I flopped on the bed, and let the silk sheets embrace me. I woke up from my little snooze to the sound of the dinner bell. I hastily grabbed my purse, put on a nice dress, and ran down the stairs to the dining hall. A feast was spread across five tables, each table with an assortment of people who all followed one theme or another. One had punk/goth kids, another was clearly the popular girls, one was the athletic boys, a table full of boys and girls sitting together, looking romantically into each other’s eyes. That was clearly the couple’s table. The final area had only one person sitting at it, a boy, sorting through MTG cards and muttering to himself. I thought about myself in relation to all the other tables, and decided to take a seat at the one with the boy and his trading cards. I tried to start a conversation once or twice, but he just grunted and continued
