Stuck on You, 4: Here we go.
Jenny Shay.
After I finished my breakfast, I kissed my dad on the cheek goodbye. I took my purple and blue Nike sling bag and my Sidekick that was lying next to it on the couch in the living room. I put on my black flats before I headed out the door.
I left my apartment at exactly 8.30am.
Brooklyn Academy High School wasn’t that far to go to. So instead of going there with my dad in his car or taking the bus, I decided to walk. Registration won’t be starting till 9am anyway.
The morning was beautiful. Summer has come to an end trees were starting to lose their leaves and the leaves that were still on the trees were starting to change from green to an orange-y colour. A lot of them were scattered around the side walks, roads and pavements. Some were flying around. I tugged my cardigan and scarf and looked up in the sky. The sun was already up and it was absolutely breath taking.
I passed by shops and stores, some that were open, some were closed.
Then I ended up standing in front of my favourite store of all my favourite stores: Borders.
I know what you’re thinking. “Borders? That’s the bookstore, right?” Yes, it’s the bookstore. I love to read, you see. Ever since I was 5, my mom would read me bed time stories to put me to sleep. But when she couldn’t or when she was never there, I would read myself to sleep.
Borders is kind of like my sanctuary. If I’m not at the apartment, since well, my dad’s usually not at home, the only place where I would be is at Borders if not there then I’d be at Starbucks. I would be either reading, writing or surfing the net there. The place is full with books, all arranged and put into their genres in sections. It looked like a library.
I tried to smile and decided to come back here later after school as I kept on walking.
10 minutes later, I was standing in front of the gates of Brooklyn Academy High School.
The school was built in 1879. Before, it used to look like an old, moldy but sorta-okay kinda school. It looked more or less like a modern school, only because it got renovated last year when I was still a sophomore. The brick walls were painted in white and the rooftops were grey in colour, like any typical school you’d see here around New York. There were 3 floors and all together, 3 buildings combined with one another: the building on the left is where the students go for their classes. The middle or main building is where the teacher’s staff, principal’s office, cafeteria, students’ lockers are. I know what you’re thinking, “That’s a lot.” Well apparently the building is pretty huge, you’d feel like a tiny little ant standing in front of it. And lastly, the building on the left is the auditorium, where school dances, assemblies and such are held.
The black sign of Brooklyn Academy High School. Est. 1879, was written in gold was stuck next to the doors of the main building. A huge banner in red was hanging on above my head that was written in gold and white and said, Go Eagles! You can do it!
Our school was known to be the home of the unbeatable Eagles. I’m not much into sports, but I have to admit, our school’s basketball team is good. They won every match they participated in and beat almost, wait no, EVERY other school team they played against with. They received uncountable trophies, even the school had to buy another trophy shelf for ‘em that’s to be displayed in the middle building for people to see.
Other than basketball, our soccer and football teams are as good, too.
I walked inside the main building and saw a lot of familiar faces. The only people I know were people I had my classes with last year. Everyone was divided into groups according to the people they hang out with. But most importantly, the jocks and cheerleaders were in one huge group, known as the populars, of course.
Once I arrived in front of my locker, I put my combination on and unlocked it. I put my scarf inside, shut my locker close… and screamed.
“Oh my god, Alexa!” I jumped. “You almost gave me a heart attack!”
My best friend, Alexa Roberts grinned, her green eyes shining and her thick blond hair was hanging loosely around her shoulders. ”Sorry, Jen! Didn’t mean to scare ya.” She said with her twang. Alexa was originally from Texas. She moved to Brooklyn when she was 10. We met in elementary school. I remember how we became the best of friends. Back then she had really huge glasses that her mom bought from a car shop (I KNOW RIGHT, I DIDN’T BELIEVE IT AT FIRST!) and everyone made fun of her… except me. I was nice enough to give her cookies instead of making fun of her and her glasses. We remained close ever since.
I picked up my school bag and hung it over my shoulder, “Where were you?”
“Home. Just got here.” She replied.
“I’m gonna be having history with Mrs. Johnson.” I rolled my eyes. “That woman does not know anything about history!” I threw my hands up in the air, frustrated.
Alexa laughed, “I’m gonna be having geography. Gonna be having Mr. Allan.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
“Ew.” I laughed. Mr. Allan is in his 20s and is a new teacher. He transfered from New Jersey to New York end of last year. Girls drooled over him. He’s kind of okay… I guess. I think I was the only one in the school who wasn’t head over heels for him.
“Alright. This is my class.” I told Alexa. “I’ll see you during math?”
“Definitely.” Alexa hugged me and walked away.
I drew in a deep breath and let it out. My first day in school is about to start and unfortunately, my first class had to be history with Mrs. Johnson. I hope the butterflies in my stomach are gonna be gone by the end of my history period.
Here I go. I told myself as I entered my class on my first day of school, hoping everything will turn on fine.
