I tried to navigate my way through the halls of West Hill, but I wasn’t able to find my way to room 215. I decided to ask someone. I tapped a girl in front of my on the shoulder, “Excuse me, where is room 215?” She turned around with her eyebrows scrunched and a disgusted look. Then she kept walking forward not even caring about my question.

Apparently no one cared about new people at this school. I was new to California, actually. My dad had just gotten a transfer to California from Texas. He worked as a head marketer for Russ Department Stores. They were opening new stores on the west coast, and he was in charge of the marketing. So, this was a big move, especially since I had grown up in a town of 400 people, which was also made up of 85% farms.

I pulled out the map of the school one more time and I finally found 215. It had been on the opposite side of the school. I walked into the Physics class, and everyone turned to stare at me. “Mr. Locklear?” the teacher asked.


I looked towards him, “Uh, yeah.”

“You’re late. Please take a seat next to Ms. Quinn,” he pointed towards a really pretty girl with curly, dark hair and a very low gray tank top on. I sat down next to her and smiled. She looked down, blushing without smiling back.

The class flew by quickly, but I enjoyed sitting next to the mystery girl. She smelled like strawberries every time she flipped her hair. When the period ended, she walked out of class quickly and I tried to catch up with her, but someone beat me to the punch. It was a girl with straight brown hair, a lot of makeup, and huge boots on.

“Kara! How was your class?” Kara scoffed and they walked away from the direction my next class was in.

So that was her name: Kara. She was so pretty, unlike many of the girls in Texas. She had something about her that wasn’t as desperate as many of the California girls, but she was still able to be one of the most beautiful girls I have ever seen.

I started to walk towards American Lit. I glanced down at my map just to make sure I was going in the right direction, and then I felt a bunch of people push against me. I looked up to see big guys (probably football players) pushing me as they walked around me.

I wondered what that was about for only a second, and then I kept moving. This time, I got to class with a couple minutes to spare. I sat down in the back next to some guys who weren’t talking, but they didn’t seem intimidating. I smiled at them and mumbled, “Hi,” but they ignored me.

Class started, and I listened to the teacher drone on about the books we’ll be reading. I only heard The Great Gatsby. Soon enough, the bell rang, and I practically ran out of the class.

The next two periods were a blur, and then it was time for lunch. I walked into the cafeteria to see a huge line at the counter that was serving some kind of burgers. I got into the other line, and it turned out that they were serving pizza, but the pizza was stone cold.

I paid for my lunch and turned towards the tables. It seemed like everyone was sitting with the people in their cliques, and I didn’t want to intervene. So, I went to an empty table and sat down. After I started eating, I felt someone tap my shoulder, and then I heard: “Anyone sitting here?”

I turned around to see Kara standing over me. “Uh…no,” I mumbled. She sat down next to me and scrunched her nose at my pizza. “Don’t like pizza?”

She looked up, “Oh, I love pizza! I just don’t like the grease that school cafeterias always want to put on the pizza.”

I laughed a little too much. “I don’t really care,” I said. I took a bite into my pizza and grease spilled down my chin.

“Exactly,” she said. We laughed, and she started eating her hamburger. “So what are your next three periods?”

“Latin, Pre-Calc, and History,” I counted off on my fingers.

Her face brightened for a millisecond. “Me too,” she said, and took another bite of her hamburger. “You know, I never actually introduced myself. I’m Kara.”

“I’m Jason.”

“Is this your first year?”

“Yeah, I’m from Rancho, Texas. My dad got transferred in July. I’m assuming you’ve been here a while,” I said.

“Um…actually no. I went to the middle school here and I grew up here, but I’ve been going to private school the last two years. So this is my first year at West Hill.”

I was surprised. “So you know people?”

“Of course,” she took another bite. “And my sister is a senior.” I recalled the girl who talked to her after first period. They did kind of look alike. “Her name is Lena,” she turned around to look for Lena. “I don’t think…Oh! There she is,” Kara pointed to the same girl I saw in the hall. She was standing in the cafeteria doorway, and she looked like she was searching for something.