Love me again

Charlotte

Today was the first day of high school and I wasn't looking forward to it.

The moment I stepped into the gigantic school, my mood drastically decreased.

This was going to be a long year.

I looked around myself and saw kids smiling happily ready to ruin unite with their friends whom they hadn't seen in a while.

I smiled bitterly. I looked at my old classmates, and they looked back at me. I have no intention of going to them.

They waved at me and I gave them a small nod in response. With that, I casually walk away. I was in no mood to talk.

These people are bad enough but the people I'm most scared of are the new kids. Even though I don't know them yet they seem to be the people who would come in and ruin everything.

When the bell rang, hundreds of kids climbed up the stairs in unison. It was really crowded, that annoyed me because I prefer quiet places a lot better.

They all squish together trying to get into the big school gates.

I didn't move, I decided to wait for all the people to leave before going in. Maybe then they would stop shouting and the new school year excitement would calm down.

It took about 10 minutes for most of the people to get into the building. I was in no rush to get in anyway so I took this as an opportunity and slowly made my way inside.

When I was about to take a step in, I glanced to my left and someone caught my eye.

A guy walks in, I have never seen someone like him before.

I brush the thought of his beautiful face off my mind.

Deep down, I secretly hope that he is in my class.

With that thought, I walked into the school. I climb up the stairs and onto the third floor which is where our new homeroom is.

I went to my homeroom teacher, Mrs. Keating who was standing in front of the room greeting people who were coming in. I heard a lot about her but this year was the first year we ever got her. She was quite young probably early 30s. She has a sweet smile, she was one of the nicest teachers in the school so people say that we were lucky to have her.

"Hi, Mrs. Keating," I greeted politely, a good first impression never hurts.

"Hi, dear, what's your name?" Mrs. Keating asks.

"Charlotte," I answered.

She smiles warmly and rummages through a huge stack of papers trying to find my name. When she finds it, she hands it to me.