Nazz had spent the morning in perfect preparation, the last days of summer falling by the wayside as she focused on the next four years sprawling out ahead of her. She’d heard so many contradicting opinions on HIGH SCHOOL that she didn’t know how to feel: excited? terrified? both? neither? Her shower thoughts were a muddled haze as she tried to convince herself that excited was good, excited was ideal. I am excited, she urged herself, repeating the second lather of shampooing. I am completely psyched! But that didn’t stop the occasional TERROR from leaking in through the cracks. High School was when life got hard. Classes got more difficult, people got more complicated. She’d seen enough television to know high school was where drama exploded.
The rest of her morning routine diverted some of her attention away from nerves-- picking out the PERFECT outfit, waking up her moms, making breakfast. Soon the quiet house, previously a residence of festering uneasy thoughts, turned into a bustling home filled with the sounds and smells of family breakfast. Nazz was far from the best cook, but her parents swore she could prepare coffee better than any cafe in the world-- funny, since the taste of coffee made the girl gag. As per usual, though, her toast came out slightly burned, her eggs slightly undercooked, and orange juice slightly too pulpy. She had almost failed cooking back in middle school...
It wasn’t until she’d hugged her moms GOODBYE and started off on her roller skates, that Nazz’s first day of school nerved creeped back. She couldn’t tell if it was that or the chill of the early morning air against she cheeks that caused a shiver to run down her spine. Her helmeted head (for helmet safety was the only thing that could trump Nazz’s No Hats on Hair rule) shook, trying to rid herself of mild insecurities.
What if I’m not smart enough?
She skated around a sharp corner, turning out of the cul-de-sac.
What if all my friends change?
She sped up as the road ahead became straight.
What if I mess everything up?
She pushed forward, humming aggressively under her breath until she skidded to a stop in front of the school. P E A C H C R E E K H I G H. It loomed above her, the grounds almost entirely DESERTED. Good. One of the perks of arriving almost an hour before classes started was not feeling in a rush, being able to breath before real life began again. She carefully sat down on the steps of the building, undoing the laces of her skates and switching them with the actual shoes she’d be wearing today-- new sneakers, she’d needed to babysit for over ten hours in order to buy them. Once the transfer was complete, Nazz pulled a crisp folder from her bag. Inside was the letter she’d gotten two weeks ago with all the information on the upcoming school year. Her eyes scanned past the schedule to stop at the locker number and combination. 108. LXX-RX-LXX.
Might as well get settled, she thought, stuffing the folder back into her bag and standing up. She had a locker to DECORATE afterall, and only -- she looked at her sleek new watch -- 49 minutes UNTIL homeroom.
