The heels definitely aren’t doing me any favors so far.
“This,” Tiffany announces, her voice loud and clear enough to carry across the whole class, even though she’s only talking to the blond girl, “is Madison. Madison, this is Melissa.”
“Uh, hi,” I say, and give her a smile.
Melissa has perfect curls and sun-kissed skin, and she’s dressed almost as well as Tiffany. I’m a little jealous that they make casual look so … so
wow
.
She looks me up and down, and I can see her taking in every detail. I’m suddenly super-aware of the fleck of mud on the front of my shoes, and I sit down on the chair at the desk in front of Tiffany, but stay facing them.
“Hi,” Melissa says. “Welcome to Midsommer High. Home of the Hounds.”
“Right, everyone,” says the teacher. I turn around in my seat. “I have your class schedules here. Hand these out,” he tells the boy closest to him, setting down a pile of papers.
The boy sighs and gets up to give everyone the schedules. People immediately start comparing, and either grumbling about their teachers or sighing in relief that their schedules are all A-OK.
Lucky for some
.
I just sit there until the bell rings for first period, wondering exactly how I ended up sitting in homeroom with what must be two of the most popular girls in school, with AP Physics on my schedule.
I can’t decide if the new Madison’s life is going to suck, or turn out seriously awesome.
Chapter 8
I make it through the entire morning without falling on my face again, at least.
When I walk into Art and Photography third period, I see the familiar sight of scraggly, mousy brown hair and one and a half eyebrows amid the circle of easels and the tables set up with vases of flowers or bowls of fruit, ready for a still-life drawing.
“Carter!” I all but bound across the classroom toward him. In the process, I bump into a table with a wooden bowl containing two apples and some grapes. I hop, trying to keep my balance, and manage to save the table and an apple. Everything else falls to the floor.
“Sorry,” I mumble, and duck my head—but of course, I no longer have the long curtain of hair to hide behind. I feel so exposed: everyone who’s already in class is looking at the strange new girl who just destroyed a display.
I hear a chair scrape and footsteps head toward me as I pick up the grapes. The person kneels down to grab the bowl and the other apple for me.
“Way to make an entrance,” Carter says.
“How many people saw that?” I mumble, shaking my head at myself as he sets down the bowl and I add the grapes and the apple.
“Pretty much the whole class. Miss Augustan isn’t here yet, though, so you’re safe.”
I pick at the grapes, shifting them so that they sit better, before I follow Carter back to his seat. I take the easel next to his.
“How’s your first day so far?” he asks me.
“Um, okay, I think.”
“Made any friends?”
“I think so. There’re some girls in my homeroom who seem nice. Tiffany and Melissa?” I say their names like a question, because I want him to tell me about them.
“Whoa … wait.” Carter turns his whole body to face me. “Tiffany? As in, Tiffany Blanche?”
“Um, I think so … Dark hair, really pretty …”
I trail off, because Carter looks shocked. And slightly confused. There’s no other way to describe that expression: wide eyes, furrowed brow, mouth half hanging open, like he’s deciding whether or not to say something to me.
“Why? What’s—”
Before I can finish asking my question, and before Carter can say anything about Tiffany, someone claps their hands together, and a musical voice rings out, “All right, class, settle down, settle down! Another new year lies ahead, and I’m expecting great things from you all!”
Miss Augustan is tall and willowy, with long wavy hair. She’s wearing jeans and a paint-flecked white T-shirt—her clothes don’t really scream teacher.
She looks
“This,” Tiffany announces, her voice loud and clear enough to carry across the whole class, even though she’s only talking to the blond girl, “is Madison. Madison, this is Melissa.”
“Uh, hi,” I say, and give her a smile.
Melissa has perfect curls and sun-kissed skin, and she’s dressed almost as well as Tiffany. I’m a little jealous that they make casual look so … so
wow
.
She looks me up and down, and I can see her taking in every detail. I’m suddenly super-aware of the fleck of mud on the front of my shoes, and I sit down on the chair at the desk in front of Tiffany, but stay facing them.
“Hi,” Melissa says. “Welcome to Midsommer High. Home of the Hounds.”
“Right, everyone,” says the teacher. I turn around in my seat. “I have your class schedules here. Hand these out,” he tells the boy closest to him, setting down a pile of papers.
The boy sighs and gets up to give everyone the schedules. People immediately start comparing, and either grumbling about their teachers or sighing in relief that their schedules are all A-OK.
Lucky for some
.
I just sit there until the bell rings for first period, wondering exactly how I ended up sitting in homeroom with what must be two of the most popular girls in school, with AP Physics on my schedule.
I can’t decide if the new Madison’s life is going to suck, or turn out seriously awesome.
Chapter 8
I make it through the entire morning without falling on my face again, at least.
When I walk into Art and Photography third period, I see the familiar sight of scraggly, mousy brown hair and one and a half eyebrows amid the circle of easels and the tables set up with vases of flowers or bowls of fruit, ready for a still-life drawing.
“Carter!” I all but bound across the classroom toward him. In the process, I bump into a table with a wooden bowl containing two apples and some grapes. I hop, trying to keep my balance, and manage to save the table and an apple. Everything else falls to the floor.
“Sorry,” I mumble, and duck my head—but of course, I no longer have the long curtain of hair to hide behind. I feel so exposed: everyone who’s already in class is looking at the strange new girl who just destroyed a display.
I hear a chair scrape and footsteps head toward me as I pick up the grapes. The person kneels down to grab the bowl and the other apple for me.
“Way to make an entrance,” Carter says.
“How many people saw that?” I mumble, shaking my head at myself as he sets down the bowl and I add the grapes and the apple.
“Pretty much the whole class. Miss Augustan isn’t here yet, though, so you’re safe.”
I pick at the grapes, shifting them so that they sit better, before I follow Carter back to his seat. I take the easel next to his.
“How’s your first day so far?” he asks me.
“Um, okay, I think.”
“Made any friends?”
“I think so. There’re some girls in my homeroom who seem nice. Tiffany and Melissa?” I say their names like a question, because I want him to tell me about them.
“Whoa … wait.” Carter turns his whole body to face me. “Tiffany? As in, Tiffany Blanche?”
“Um, I think so … Dark hair, really pretty …”
I trail off, because Carter looks shocked. And slightly confused. There’s no other way to describe that expression: wide eyes, furrowed brow, mouth half hanging open, like he’s deciding whether or not to say something to me.
“Why? What’s—”
Before I can finish asking my question, and before Carter can say anything about Tiffany, someone claps their hands together, and a musical voice rings out, “All right, class, settle down, settle down! Another new year lies ahead, and I’m expecting great things from you all!”
Miss Augustan is tall and willowy, with long wavy hair. She’s wearing jeans and a paint-flecked white T-shirt—her clothes don’t really scream teacher.
She looks
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