The reputation of a thousand years may be determined by the conduct of one hour.
- Japanese proverb

As I walked into Northern San Diego High School, I was greeted by the painfully cliche quote written in gold lettering against the forest green bricks behind it – the official school colors.

“It’s a great time to be a rattlesnake!” a peppy young woman greeted me. “My name is Ms. Nigel, I’m your new guidance counselor! You must be Elizabeth. Since you’re starting in the middle of the quarter, we’re going to have to get everything made up that you’ve missed so far. Follow me into my office!”

Ms. Nigel then linked our arms and led me away, her heels echoing off the concrete blocks of the walls. She rattled on about the various “academic paths” the school offered, but I was too busy examining my surroundings to listen that closely. After the cheerfully-colored entrance, the facade gave way to grey linoleum floors and dingy white walls lined with green lockers.

“You will need to attain a uniform in the next week,” she said, the u-word breaking me from my trance as we entered her office, “We require our female students to wear a plaid skirt, matching necktie, white knee, high socks, and a white blouse of your choosing. Any questions?”

“Since when do public schools have uniforms?” I asked with a roll of my eyes as I sunk into the chair in front of her desk.

“Elizabeth,” she sighed.

“Liz.”

“Miss Brandt,” was it so hard to use the name I preferred? “Your father warned me that you might have a hard time adjusting. We are being very lenient just by letting someone with your record attend this school.”

“You mean my straight-A record?” I demanded, laughing in disbelief.

“Don’t think that you left your legal record in Oregon, Miss Brandt.”

I stared blandly at her, defeated. I took this opportunity to examine the details of her face for the first time. Eleanor Nigel, as her framed diploma identified her, had kind eyes, but her face was made weary by years of dealing with teenagers like myself. She had deep frown lines around her mouth and between her eyes. I estimated her to be in her mid-to-late thirties, but saw no ring on her finger.

“Well I guess I’m just a stupid mother fucker,” I laughed.

“Elizabeth, please, we’re working very hard to accommodate you and your family, but you need to be willing to cooperate,” she said, seeming human for the first time. The break in her robotic, rehearsed manner calmed me a bit.

“I don’t have a family,” I muttered under my breath, blinking away the threatening tears.

“I’m sorry?”

“Nothing. I’ll cooperate.”

“Wonderful!” Ms. Nigel clapped her hands and quickly went to work clicking away at her keyboard.

---

About forty-five minutes later, we finished our meeting and I officially had a class schedule. Ms. Nigel suggested that I go and buy myself some clothes, then return the next day to begin attending classes. “What’s one more day when you’re already two weeks late to begin the school year?” she’d sighed.

High school is a funny thing. Everyone expects you to act like a mature adult, yet they still speak to you as though they were teaching an infant about animals and the sounds they make.

Notes

So, first chapter of my first story in years. Wow. What do you guys think? Do people even still use this website???

I know that this is super short, but I wanted to at least get something posted so that people could start checking it out.

Anyway, it feels good to be writing on my own time again. I hope I Get some feedback.

Thanks for reading!
Xoxo