Chapter 1- Getting Used to A New School
“(f/n)! You’re going to be late for your first day!” your mother’s extremely loud voice barked. She came into your room with her arms crossed across her chest. When you didn’t move, she flipped the lights on and began rummaging through your closets and drawers of clothes, making an insanely large amount of noise.
“Go way! I don’t want to go!” you groggily protested from underneath your sheets. Your mother and father had a job that required them to move a lot. When you were really young, you hadn’t minded so much because you didn’t make many friends. After a while, you had settled in California and made lots of friends. Since you didn’t move for a long time, you had become comfortable in LA and had flipped your lid when your parents told you that you were moving again. You hadn’t even stayed in America. You had moved all the way to Europe! Now, your mother was expecting you to start a new school after ripping you away from your happy life.
“You ARE going and that’s final!” your mother yelled, “You can’t just stay in bed and throw your ‘oh woe is me’ party”. She threw a (f/c) shirt and a (pattern) pattern matching skirt on top of you. “Wear that. It’ll look nice”, she ordered, before leaving.
You waited a bit, before slipping out from under the covers and stretching. With a sigh, you stood up, grabbed the outfit your mother had picked out, and went to your bathroom. You stared at your reflection, smirking at your bed-head. You grabbed a brush, smoothing out your (h/l) (h/c) hair. You brushed your teeth and put on the clothes your mother chose. You growled in exasperation when you saw that she had chosen something that went low in the chest area. You stomped downstairs and found her setting a bowl of (cereal) on the table for you.
“I’m not wearing this”, you stated, “I’ll look like a hooker”.
“You’re wearing it. Besides, I think it looks cute. The guys at the school will like it, I’m sure”, your mother said, grinning at her joke.
You rolled your (e/c) eyes, but didn’t feel like arguing anymore. You never could win against your mother anyway. You ate your breakfast quickly and then grabbed your (f/c) bag as you walked out your new front door. Your mother drove you to the school, saying things like ‘Be nice to others’, ‘Pay attention in class’ and, the one she stressed the most, ‘Make new friends’. You nodded and made grunting noises to make her think you were listening, but really all you could think about was how you missed your old friends and how you were going to hate this school.
“Here we are!” your mother said cheerfully as you pulled up to the school. It was a lot bigger than you thought it would be. It had banners all over, showing off the music program or gardening club and stuff like that. Tables and chairs were scattered all over, but no one was really sitting at them at the moment. You noticed a garden towards the back of the school and you felt curiosity stir inside you. You would definitely be looking around back there later.
You got out of the car, grabbed you bag, and waved goodbye to your mom as she drove away. You gazed at the school for a few more moments and then walked up to the big doors. You went in and found a few kids in the hallways, while some headed to their class rooms. You looked down at the paper that had your schedule on it. Your first class was history and you were going to have that class every day since it was a first period. You smiled; you liked history so you were happy that that was the class you would be going to right away every day.
You began walking through the halls, looking for the room, but you were having a little difficulty finding it. While staring at your paper like it would suddenly give an answer about where to find the room, someone ran into you from behind, causing you to stumble and almost fall flat on your face. You whipped around and looked down at the guy who had run into you. He had fallen back on his behind and looked kind of flustered. He had brown hair with a really strange kink in it on the right side. His eyes were closed and he was flailing around like a little kid.
“I’m sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going and ran into you! That really hurt, you seem really strong! Please, don’t beat me up! I’m just a poor Italian guy who loves pasta!” he rambled on and on.
“Um, it’s ok?” you said, unsure of what to think about this guy. You extended a hand out, which he looked at hesitantly at first, but he gladly took when you smiled kindly at him.
“Thanks a lot bella!” he cheered, standing up straight and grinning. “I haven’t seen you around here before. Are you new?”
“I am”, you said. “I’m (f/n) (l/n)”
“Pretty name. I’m Feliciano Vargas but you can call me Feli”, the merry boy said.
“Thank you. Um, say, do you know where this room is?” you asked, holding out the paper to him.
He looked at it (you think. He didn’t open his eyes) and nodded, smiling. “That’s the same room I’m going to too!” he chirped, “I was going to be late so I was running and I ran into you!” He grabbed your hand and ran off, pulling you along with him. “Speaking of which, we better hurry! I don’t want the teacher or Ludwig getting angry at me!”
You wanted to ask who Ludwig was, but just shrugged it off and focused on running. You didn’t want the teacher angry at you too!