Lucille has her first day of school.
The sound of birds chirping outside woke me from my sleep, another reminder of school.
I groaned and got out of bed slowly, checking my clock for the time. It was 7:00am, school started at 8:30am. I ran a hand though my now tangled hair and opened up my dresser for clothes for the day.
I grabbed a pair of blue jeans, a flower print tank-top and a green, form fitting sweater jacket to wear over my tank-top. I slipped into my stereo a Frank Sinatra CD to listen to while I got dressed, adding some sound into the quiet house.
I quickly got dressed so I could attempt to tame my wild hair, which wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I straightened it a bit before starting on my make-up, which consists of nothing too drastic just some eyeliner, mascara and cover up.
I slipped on my necklace, a long silver chain with an old looking ring on it. It had been my grandmother's, the only family member that cared about me, before she died.
I rushed around my room, ripping open boxes and searching my closet, until I found my brown flat heel boots, which matched my outfit perfectly.
"Here goes nothing," I mutter, grabbing my bag and an apple. I had never really been much of a breakfast person; an apple was usually all I'd have.
I walked out of the house, locking the door behind me just as I used to do in New York, and made my way to my car. I slipped inside, admiring its beauty. It was my 16th birthday present from my oh-so-loving parents, but they sure did have some taste. It was a very expensive Ferrari, the only thing I had ever liked that my parents bought me.
I pulled out of the driveway carefully, not wanting to run into a tree. I glanced over at Jessie's driveway and saw that her boyfriend was already there to pick her up, like the gentleman I'm sure he was.
I sighed and put in another Frank Sinatra CD into my car radio, the car soon filled with the smooth voice that I had loved. I drove down the road, not too fast but not too slow since I personally didn't want to go to school.
It only took a couple of minutes for me to arrive at school. I pulled into the parking lot, taking a place towards the back to avoid being ambushed by these crazy teenagers.
I took a deep breath before exiting the safety of my car, entering the world of gossip and dating.
I ignored the stares I received, tuned out the whispers and gasps. I made my way to the main building, avoiding any contact with these people that I could manage.
"Hello, my name is Lucille Adams. I need my schedule," I said, my voice always had a musical tone to it which could be why everyone always thought I was pretty.
"Hello, dear. I know I have it here somewhere," she said, flipping through piles of paper. "Ha! Here it is, now if you need any help don't be scared to ask."
"Thank you," I said before quickly leaving the main building. I scanned though my classes, I was familiar with all of them. My first class was English, which I was thankful for; it was my best class.
I felt like a caged up animal, everyone stared at me just because I was something different, something new. Girls were admiring my clothing while guys were admiring my body, they were all fakes. They only thought of me as a figure, not as an actual person.
A boy, who even I couldn't help but admire his courage, came up to me with a confident stride.
"Hey, I'm Mike. Do you need any help with your classes?" he asked, trying to impress me. I raised an eyebrow and stared at him, silently asking him if he was serious. This must have made him pretty nervous because he started looking at anything but me.
Instead of bothering with a response, I just walked past him, rolling my eyes. This is a good reason why I'm still single, I only attract idiotic pigs.
Thankfully, my classroom wasn't too far away, it only took me a couple of minutes before I was inside the warm building, the smell of paper and dust clearly noticeable.
I took a seat towards the back, not wanting to be too close to the majority of the class, as all the other students started to pour into the classroom, chatting with their friends or throwing erasers at each other until the teacher came in.
The teacher passed out a reading list, books we'd have to read or that we'll be quizzed on. With a quick scan of the page, I noticed that I had read all of the books. They were all classics like, Romeo and Juliet, Jane Erye, The Count of Monte Cristo.
To pass the time, I looked around the classroom, examining all the students. Most of the girls looked nice but they had a strong urge to gossip as they whispered to each other all though out class. The guys were just like all the others, stupid and brain dead for the most part.
I saw Jessie and, who I assumed to be, her boyfriend on the other side of the room. He was very handsome, with his neat black hair and blue eyes. But what drew me to him most was how he held himself; he was always tense as if he was bracing himself for an attack. His eyes were filled with hidden worry but the intensity in his eyes distracted the person. He was upset and angry, but I don't think he was angry with anyone but himself.
I was so consumed with analyzing Jessie's boyfriend, I hadn't noticed the bell had rung until everyone started to talk loudly again. I gathered up all of my books and shoved them into my bag before leaving the classroom for my next class, which was Spanish.
Everyone still stared at me but the word about Mike must have gotten around since none of the boys dared approach me, which was a relief. I made my way quickly to Spanish.
Jessie arrived to the classroom a few minutes after I did; her boyfriend not far behind. It was as if they were connected at the hip or something.
"Hi Lucille!" Jessie said, coming over to my vacant table. She was probably a very nice person but I really just wanted her to leave.
"Hello Jessie," I said, smiling slightly. She returned the smile and took a seat next to me, her boyfriend on the other side of her. He seemed overly protective, like a guard dog with its owner.
"Hello Mikey," I said, shocking both him and Jessie. "What?"
"You know each other?" Jessie asked, her voice full of curiosity.
"No. I’m just a mind reader." I answered sarcastically.
"Are you now?" Mikey asked; his voice cosmic.
"Oh, of course I am. That and well, it’s on your notebook." I explained, rolling my eyes. Mikey looked down at the notebook he was carrying. Clear as day he read, Mikey Way.