Drella

I looked up at the school from where I was sat in the car. I could see high letters glaring back at me, forming the words 'Clairemont High School'. It looked so huge and I could see students flocking in. It was all so easy for them.
"Ready?" Mum asked.
"No," I replied.
"Don't be silly. I need to go to work,"
"Then I guess I'm ready," I sighed.
"Good luck. And behave please,"
"I will," I rolled my eyes. I got out of the car and went to walk away.
"Drella!" Mum called. I turned around and raised my eyebrows. "I won't be home after school. I should be in around ten. So just make yourself dinner, you might need to go to the store though,"
"Okay, whatever," I shrugged. I've been in San Diego for a matter of days, how am I supposed to know where the store is? I saw her drive away and started up the path that led to campus.
That wasn't the worst of my worries. Neither was the fact everyone will be talking about me 'setting fire' to the humanities block by the end of the day. What if I make no friends? Do they even wear black denim skirts in San Diego? Did my sandles look okay with my skirt and beige tank top?
I shook my head and went over to the doors. I walked inside and walked easily to the office. A woman with a outdated bad perm was sat behind it. "Hi," I smiled brightly.
"Can I help you?" she asked.
"It's my first day. I'm just looking for my schedule," I explained.
"What's your name?'
"Drella Young," then she looked at me as if to say really. I get this wherever I go.
"Okay," the woman muttered. She typed away until she handed me a sheet of paper.
"Thanks," I breathed. I walked out into the hall and looked down at my schedule. Art. Well that isn't too bad. Room 126. I looked to my left and saw I was standing outside room 34. Brilliant.
I started walking quickly. I passed people and noticed I was getting a lot of looks. Everyone stare at the new girl. I made it to class and walked slowly inside. It was only half full.
"Yes?" the teacher asked. She was middle aged with sleek blonde hair and paint covered overalls.
"I'm Drella Young," I explained.
"Take a seat," she smiled. I nodded and made my way to the middle. I sat down and saw sketch books being passed around. I took one and settled in my seat. "We're doing just whatever your heart tells you to right now. Ease ourselves back into school. But I'll be grading you," she said.
I flicked open my book and started to search through my bag for a pencil. When I found none I turned to my right. There was tanned boy - possibly Hispanic - with dark chocolate hair grown out to just past his ears and eyes to match. Just as I went to ask I felt a tap on my shoulder.
"Don't ask him," a girl said. I looked at her. Blonde hair, big blue eyes, tanned. She was sat next to me.
"Why not?"
"You don't want anything he has," she said, like it was obvious. I looked over at the boy. His head was down, shaking it slightly, his hair forming a curtain to shield his face. "I'm Frankie," the girl introduced herself as she passed me a pencil.
"Drella. And thanks," I replied, taking it.
"You're new right?"
"Yeah, just moved from New York,"
"Wow. New York. You're so lucky,"
"It seems cool here," I shrugged, starting on my sketch.
By the time the lesson had finished I had drawn one of my favourite places in NY. There were skate ramps, and bars, and steps. Then in the centre I had drawn a boy and girl. I closed my book and laid it on the desk at the top.
I got outside the class and found Frankie waiting for me. I smiled and she linked arms with me. "What do you have next?" she asked.
"English," I replied.
"I'll take you there,"
"Um . . . Thanks," I smiled. She led me to English and then left me. I walked inside, sliding into a seat once again.
By the time lunch had come I was ready to put distance between myself and Frankie. She was nice but she had quizzed me and quizzed me about my life in NY. All I really want to do is to eat my lunch.
"Why don't we meet some people?" Frankie offered.
"Okay," I nodded. She took me over to a group that was a mix of jocks and girls that looked identical to Frankie.
"Everyone, this is Drella," Frankie introduced me.
"Hi," I waved. The first thing I noticed was one of the boys start to edge closer to me after looking me over.
"That's an interesting name," he said easily.
"It is," I agreed. Then he wrapped an arm around my shoulders.
"Look who's walking past," one of the other boys said. I looked and saw the boy that was next to me in Art class.
"Hey Fuentes!" one of them called. He kept his head down and carried on walking. "I'm talking to you," they added. Then someone started over to him. They grabbed him and pinned him up against a locker. I watched him sigh as if to say 'not again'.
"You okay?" a voice asked in my ear and I nodded. Just as he was about to be slammed up against the locker again another boy pushed the jock away. He glared at him and pulled the boy from my class away.
"Pussy!" the jock yelled. The boy who had helped him held his middle finger up behind him. I watched as the two boys broke apart and the boy from my class made his way outside.
"What's up?" Frankie asked.
"I've just remembered I need to check in with the office. I'll catch you up?" I lied. The all nodded and walked away. I hurried over to the doors and down the steps outside. I scanned the area and my eyes lay on the boy from my class. He was sitting under a tree eating his lunch. I went over and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around and looked surprised to see me. "Hey," I smiled.
"Hi," he replied.
"Is it okay if I sit with you?" I asked. He nodded. As I sat down I looked at him. Was he confused? "I'm Drella,"
"Vic," he said.
"Are you okay, Vic?" I asked.
"I'm fine,"
"I mean after the whole Frankie thing in Art and then what those assholes did,"
"I'm fine," he repeated. "Look, this is going to sound bad. But if you want people like Frankie to like you, you probably shouldn't sit with me. They don't like me," he rushed.
"But I like you and I want to sit with you," I smiled. "And you're the only nice person I've met today. In my old school I was popular, sure. But I wasn't mean," I told him. "Besides, that boy who helped you seemed to like you,"
"That's Mike. He's my brother,"
"That's okay," I shrugged. I got my food out and frowned. "Will you come with me to get a drink?" I asked.
"Sure," he nodded. I stood up and put my hand out to help him. He took it and thanked me. I'm pretty sure I've found the only decent person in my year.

Notes

Hey! Another pre written story I'm getting out there! This isn't realistic, I'm sure Vic wasn't bullied in high school. But it fits with what I've written. Let me know how you like it. How you like Drella? Questions? Opinions. I'll update soon! :)

Edit - Hey everyone :) I've made a few changes and done some grammar checks to hopefully make this story even better that is now. I hope you like it. Any new questions you have please don't be afraid to ask! I love you! :)