Young Writers Society

Author's Note: This is a completely unfinished first chapter. I'm not really loving my writing right now, so I just wanted some feedback before I continued. Thanks for reading. :)

Tiny drops of mists clouded up the air, making it difficult to see the path that lay in front of me. I had chosen the worst day to go for a run in an unfamiliar place, but the thought of releasing some frustration had seemed like pure bliss at the time.

Goosebumps formed on my arms, spreading across the rest of my body at a rapid pace. The breeze I had pictured being refreshing was instead an icy blast of torture. While I obviously wasn’t the most comfortable I had ever been, nothing could compare to the pure agony of being the new girl in a high school far larger than I had envisioned. The first day at a new school is just plain bad on its own, but the fact that it was smack dab in the middle of my junior year was almost too much to handle.

My feet carried me forward through the fog, and it didn’t even bother me that I had no idea where they were taking me. If getting lost would prevent me from having to spend another day in that school, I would gladly lose my way. Socializing wasn’t my forte, and having half a thousand teenage kids staring me over all day didn’t help my goal to make a few friends. It was an exhausting day, to say the very least.

“Miss Darling, why don’t you stand up and introduce yourself?” Not only did everyone ignore me during the countless intro speeches I made throughout the day, but nearly everyone snickered at my peculiar last name. It was a little bit unusual, yes, but I didn’t have any control over what my parents’ last name was. I couldn’t fathom the idea of showing up to that horrid building again another day, much less a year and a half.

“Wendy!”

I stopped immediately, becoming aware that my mind had been so far away from the present that I failed to realize that I had, unfortunately, found my way back to the clubhouse.

It was Ana, the only girl I had met since moving in that didn’t have seem to have some sort of predetermined disdain for me.

I slowed down, trying to catch my breath and wipe the sweat from my forehead in an attempt to make myself somewhat presentable. The last thing I wanted was to scare off the only person that I could see being a potential friend.

“Oh,” I said lightly, “Hey. Ana, right?”

Considering I had only spoken to her briefly during my short lunch period, I didn’t really know what else to see. The corners of my mouth turned up, forming a small but friendly grin. I obviously wasn’t a huge talker, so I most definitely didn’t want her thinking I was the least bit cold or snobby.

“You like to run?” The tone of her voice was energetic and high, the bubbly aspect of her personality freely revealing itself.

I shrugged, laughing softly. “I guess you could say that. Especially on a day like this.”

A sense of understanding spread across her face, the edge of her chin bobbing up and down in a barely there nod.

“It sucks, doesn’t it?”

“What, being the new girl? I definitely wouldn’t call it the best experience in the world.”

“Mhm. I moved elementary schools in the middle of the third grade,” she said, “I hated it.”

“Oh,” I said, trying extremely hard to keep from mentioning how different that was from my current situation. All you had to do in the elementary years to get the other kids to like you was to bring a pack of Skittles to school or something.

“I was just expecting there to be a little bit more of a welcoming vibe on my first day, you know? Everyone just seems kind of—“

“Harsh?” She finished my judgment with a grin.

I nodded, shrugging my shoulders. “I mean, you’re nice and everything, but most everyone seems like they hate my guts.”

“They’ll warm up to you, don’t worry. We never really get new people around here, so I don’t really think anyone knows exactly how to react. Most of it’s probably just in your head, though.”

She was right and I knew it. There was this annoying habit I had of feeling like everyone was constantly viewing me with the most critical eye possible. In reality, that was probably never the case.

“I’m sure it’ll get better,” I smiled, trying to force some measure of positivity into my town. According to one of Mom’s improvement books, the more I faked optimism the more optimistic I would become. It sounded easy enough.

“Hey, I’ve gotta go.” Ana seemed partially apologetic, but I saw her glance back into the clubhouse with an air of excitement. She raised one of her hands in what was probably supposed to be a wave, but instead appeared as more of an awkward salute.

“See you,” I said before turning away, heading for home. Living in a town small enough to walk virtually everywhere was something I definitely hadn’t experienced back in Florida, which would normally be nice and refreshing. Hopefully icy mist in autumn wasn’t the norm in Maine.