Chapter 5
Casey
When I walked through the doors of Harley Institute on Monday morning, after getting through security, I felt a tension building in my chest when I surveyed around and saw that I didn’t fit in here, and all the other students saw it, too.
I figured the outfit I’d picked for today would be plain enough to blend in, but I still stuck out like a sore thumb.
I was in a pair of high waist light blue jeans, a grey, long sleeve crop top, and my growing out lilac hair was pulled back into a high ponytail.
Even my low-top white sneakers stood out.
With the glares I received from the girls and the slow once-overs by the guys, I took one look at their more casual attire and realized my mistake.
My jeans were designer… all of them were.
They were the only ones I had, seeing as Mom had bought them for me.
My idea of simple jewelry was a pair of pearl studs that had been given to me last Christmas by my mother but was now catching enough attention from the girls alone.
And my black, leather satchel? Well, I could feel my cheeks redden as several kids pointed to the designer gold label.
Attending the private Academy on The Hill, all the kids used bags like this, but here, I felt like this would be better used by someone working in an office than the backpacks and crossbody bags.
Lowering my head, I hurried to the Administration Office to sign in, eager to put as much distance between myself and my peers until I felt better prepared.
The school itself was dingy, making it clear that the city barely placed any money towards the public schools here.
The floor tiles were orange and white, the walls were a beige concrete, and the once red lockers were all drawn on, rusted in places, and scratched to shit.
The hanging fluorescent lights had wire cages covering the bulbs, which I could only assume would protect them from being smashed.
Was my elementary like this? I couldn’t remember noticing this sort of stuff.
Had I really become shallow and close-minded like the Hill kids?
“Miss Cooper,” the receptionist called me over and handed me several forms. “Have each of your teachers sign these and return at the end of the day. We’ll take your student ID photo now.
You have to carry it around with you everywhere, as a teacher or member of security can ask for it at any time.
Your locker number. Don’t give out your combination to anyone , you understand me?
We have a problem with thefts here, so I suggest that you don’t keep any valuables in your locker…
or on your persons, for that matter.” Her eyes flicked up to the small pearl studs in my ears.
“We have surprise locker searches every so often, and your cooperation is mandatory. This is a map of the school.” She handed me a double-sided piece of paper with a layout of all three floors, plus the basement.
“If you are sick, you need a parent to call in on your behalf. There is a list of extracurriculars posted on the notice board outside the office, if you are interested in joining any groups or sports teams…” Her eyes scanned me up and down, and I knew she was trying to figure out where I would fit in here.
So was I. She shook her head and tapped the paper that had my schedule on it.
“Rooms starting with one are on the main floor, and two’s are on the second… ”
“Let me guess… three’s are on the third?”
She narrowed her eyes at me and muttered, “Yes. The gymnasium is in the basement, along with the weight and locker rooms. Any questions?”
“No, ma’am.”
Her eyes narrowed even more as though she thought I was being sarcastic.
I wasn’t. At the Academy, we were expected to address adults in such a way.
But I guess here, that meant something different.
“Here is a list of drills we practice at the school and what to do. We will announce when we are practicing a fire, bomb, or shooting drill.”
I turned to stone at her words, focusing hard as she prattled on, only pausing to take a breath once. A bomb drill? Holy crap… School shooting drills were not uncommon, and we practiced those even at my Academy, but for some reason, hearing about them here made the hairs on my neck stand up on end.
“I trust your father gave you the textbooks we mailed him?”
“Uh, yeah. He did. I got them.” I quickly scanned the schedule.
It was alternating days, which meant I’d have to be careful and really pay attention to the way they flipped from morning to afternoon day-to-day.
I had English and Math 30, Phys. Ed, and stopped at the sight of Home Ec.
as one of my options. “Um, Ms. Hoffman? I didn’t sign up for Home Ec. ”
“Your options are limited, Miss Cooper, seeing as you are joining us in the middle of the semester,” she sounded irritated by my question, as if I chose to inconvenience the school by having to register in the middle of October.
“You’ll have to take Art next semester.” Her large, pale eyes rolled up my way, the way she held her face reminding me very much of my social worker.
“Go on then and get sorted out. It’s a big school, so you’ll need the extra time to find your classes.
” And without another word, she turned away to answer the phone and waved at me with a flick of her wrist, which I took as a sign that I was excused.
I backed up quickly, looking at the map to determine where my locker could be, but the numbers weren’t specified.
I’d just have to check the first set when I ambled out and count up from there until I found 326.
As soon as I stepped out of the office, I was immediately elbowed so hard that everything in my arms went sprawling to the floor of the busy hallway. I spotted a group of girls that stood close by, watching me with obvious mirth and wicked intent in their eyes.
Ignore them, Casey. Remember your plan. Just pick your stuff up and move on.
I looked away from them, gritting my teeth as I quickly moved to grab my things before they got trampled by the rest of the student body.
When I had everything, I glanced again at the girls and noticed the one standing closest to me had the biggest smirk of all.
Her hair had been dyed with purples and reds.
I couldn’t even tell what her natural colour was.
She had also had heavy makeup on her face, and was dressed more fitted for a club than school.
I blew a loose strand from my ponytail out of my face and hurried away, not wanting to get involved in too much drama on my first day.
I eventually found my locker near the backdoors of the school, right next to a flight of stairs.
Once I wrenched open the door, which was sticking, I’d been met with more hostility from passing girls.
I couldn’t quite understand what exactly their problem was, only that they shoved me when they passed or tried to slam my door shut, nearly trapping my fingers.
I sighed heavily, closing my eyes for a moment before I continued on like nothing happened.
I expected a little bit of hazing but not actual physical contact. At least, not this soon.
Don’t react… don’t react… they want to see you rise to their baiting.
Don’t give in to it… I told myself over and over again, trying to ignore how that little bubble of rage that was coming to life in my chest. I remembered how long it took me to learn how to suppress my instincts from Harley when I moved to The Hill.
But now that I was back here, those old habits were stirring to life again.
I just needed to contain it, so I didn’t get myself killed.
It’d only been ten minutes, and I already felt like an outcast. Moving down the halls had only solidified that point when I was met with an assortment of less than welcoming looks.
Most were curious, but others were downright terrifying, filled with hostility.
The more intimidating expressions were coming from other girls, I noted.
So I followed the school’s printout map to try to find my first class, which was English, up on the second floor.
Rushing up the steps and hurrying down the hall, I made it to class before the bell rang, and I picked a seat near the back, discreetly keeping my head down as the other students slowly filed in.
I could feel everyone looking at me when they came into class, but I ignored them all as the seats filled up.
Only when our teacher had come rushing in, straightening his dark-rimmed glasses and running a hand through his balding hair, did everyone quiet down and face forward.
The bell rang, and he breathed out a panting breath (he clearly ran here to be on time) and grinned at the class. “Good morning, everyone! Happy Monday!”
Of course, he was met with grumbling and nonchalant murmurs.
He grinned but shook his head. “Oh, don’t you all sound like you’re ready to continue our study of Othello!
” I couldn’t help but smile at his attempts to be enthusiastic.
I’m also relieved because I studied Othello last year.
At least I wouldn’t fall behind in English.
Just as I was feeling a wave of reassurance wash over me, he caught my eye and beamed.
“Ah! A new student! I’m Mr. Kennard.” He touched his glasses again as they slipped down his nose.
“Please, come up here and introduce yourself to everyone!” He held a hand out beside him, gesturing to the empty space in front of the whiteboard.
Any sort of growing affection for this man vanished on the spot, and I wanted to curl up in a hole and die.
I minutely shook my head at him, my eyes widening. A few of the students snickered.