Of Fights and Letters: Chapter 1: New Faces

I unbuckled my seatbelt, and took a deep breath. You can do this, I thought. It’s just high school. I looked over at my younger brother, who was a freshman. He looked super excited, not in the least bit nervous. I, on the other hand, was freaking out. It was my first time out of Italy, my home country, and I was nervous to say the least. I still had an accent, but I was grateful to be starting out school with a base understanding of English. I do like America, but Italy is my home; all of my friends are there, and I would still be with them if it weren't for the Step Monster. Although she was constantly complaining, I guess it became too much for my father; so he finally gave in to her, and we suddenly found ourselves in America. I loved my father, but he never went up against the Step Monster. I just missed Mom so much… my real mom. My mother had been one of the best people I had ever known; she hardly ever yelled at me or my siblings, and when she did, she would then give us advice and have us bake cookies with her. She was a beautiful woman, my mother. Inside and out. But--and this was one of the things that I loved most about her--she played down her beauty, and was very modest about it. She preferred comfortable clothes over fancy, tight ones. She loved to sing or hum while she baked or cooked, and boy could she work that kitchen. She made an amazing meal each night, and eating her cookies was like having a bite of paradise. I would give anything to have her back.

“...on,” my brother said. He apparently noticed that I hadn’t been listening, because he then waved a hand in front of my eyes, trying to break me out of my trance. I finally broke away from my musings, and turned my attention on my brother.

“Wha- Were you speaking? Sorry, I wasn’t listening.” He rolled his eyes.

“Of course you weren’t. I just gave you a really encouraging speech, and you missed it,” he said, faking being hurt. He even went as far as putting one hand on his heart and using the other to pretend to wipe away his ‘tears.’ It was my turn to roll my eyes.

“Come on, Beni, let’s go,” I said, opening my door and jumping down from my truck. I grabbed my worn black and neon orange backpack out of the back seat, set one strap on my shoulder, and started off toward the school. I heard Beni jogging to catch up with me, and when he did, he tried talking to me once more, but I zoned out again. “Woah,” I finally said, looking up at the immensely huge school in front of me. It was bigger than my old house and my current house combined!

“Woah, is right,” my brother said, staring up at the school with as much awe as I was.

“Well,” I said, trying to compose myself, “Now or never.” I started up the huge stone steps and opened the-surprisingly- plain double doors. My brother and I made our way over to the main office, and I cleared my throat. After standing there awkwardly for a few minutes, I broke the silence, saying,

“Um, excuse me? We are the Ryder kids; we’re here to, uh, pick up our schedules…” I trailed off. The lady, who had been ignoring me and filing her nails up until now, finally looked up.

“OH! You’re those kids? Well, here are your schedules,” she said, and handed us each a half sheet of paper, “And I will call down your individual guides.” I inwardly groaned. More people I would be forced to be nice to.

“Uh, thanks,” I said, plopping down in a cozy-looking chair and dropping my bag next to me. My brother followed suit.

“So, what kind of people do you think will be guiding us?”

Before I could respond, a boy and a girl walked through the open doorway. The girl was short, shorter than me, and I could automatically tell that she was very bubbly and cheery. She had on a slightly baggy rose-colored shirt, with electric blue skinny jeans and a black belt studded with silver spikes. She was wearing black lace-up combat boots, and she had barely any make-up on. Her curly black hair was up in a ponytail, and you could tell that she smiled a lot due to the lines around her bright green eyes. As soon as she spotted us, she walked up and enthusiastically shook both our hands, saying, “Hiya! My name’s Violet-What’s yours? Oh, and I’ll be guiding whichever one of you is a freshman.” At her name, I couldn’t help but smirk a little. Why, do you ask? Well, I thought it was ironic that her name was Violet, and that I have violet eyes. Everyone thought I used contacts, but they are naturally that color. I love my eyes; many people are afraid of me because of them, and I like it that way. Once the girl-Violet- had finished speaking, I looked out from underneath my black hoodie, and I saw the boy who had been quietly standing behind her.

He was… well, gorgeous. He had jet black hair, with natural light brown streaks from being in the sun. He was very tall, probably six-foot three or four, and he was wearing a dark colored outfit. He had on a black hoodie, like me, and he also had the hood up, like I did right now. He was wearing light gray converse, and dark-wash jeans. I couldn’t see his shirt very well, but I thought I saw a bit of dark blue peeking out from underneath his hoodie. As I was studying him, he looked up--and my breath caught. His eyes-- were almost indescribable. They were smoky gray and light blue one minute, then the next a dark emerald green, and the next they flashed to dark blue and then lastly dark brown or black, and they kept switching between those colors. I was mesmerized--and then he smirked, and said, “Like what you see?” I scowled at him, crossed my arms over my chest, and sat back in my chair. Crap; even his voice was attractive!

I looked over at Beni to say goodbye, and I burst out laughing. He was staring at Violet with puppy dog eyes, and was practically drooling. He looked over at me, embarrassed, and I saw his entire face heat up. When I looked over at Violet, she was red-faced as well. I laughed even harder.

When I finally caught my breath, I whispered in Beni’s ear, “Se io non sapevo meglio, Beniamino, direi che siete innamorati!,” (“If I did not know better, Beniamino, I would say that you are in love!”) and then I snickered as his face flushed a darker shade of red. I abruptly stopped laughing, picked up my bag, and looked up at the boy. After he had just been staring at me, he said, “Give me your schedule,” while holding his hand out. As soon as he grabbed the slip of paper, he immediately started walking, a little farther ahead than me, and he stopped abruptly in his tracks a little while later, causing me to smack right into his back. I landed on the ground on my butt, with an, “Ooof!” He looked back at me, smirked, and then gave me his hand to help me up. I scowled at him, smacked the hand away, and stood up on my own. “Ragazzo stupido,” (“Stupid boy”) I whispered under my breath.

I snatched my schedule away from him so that I could see my locker number and combo. When I entered it, I looked at the paper once more; it looked something like this:

Italian 5, Honors

Forensic Science, Honors

Drawing and Design

World History, Honors

Music

Lunch Two

Writing

Geometry, Honors

Study Hall/Gym

I was really excited about my schedule; all of the extracurricular classes were awesome, and the regular classes were classes that I would have picked out myself. I am grateful for my dad for picking it out for me; if the Step Monster had, I would be miserable.

As I read my schedule, the boy was looking over my shoulder at it, too. I looked at him, eyebrow raised, and said, “Can I help you?”

He just smiled and said, “Good thing I’m your guide; we have all the same classes.” Oh.

“Okay, then can I know your name? I mean, if we are going to see a lot of each other, I don’t just want to say ‘hey kid.’”

He smiled; “Yeah, sure; name’s Carter Mason. What’s yours? You never said.”

Oh yeah, I guess I never did say my name; whoops. “Uh, yeah, Naomi, Naomi Ryder.”

A bell rang from somewhere down the hall. “Well,” Carter said, “We should get going. Don’t want to be late to Italian.” He smiled at me again, and I scowled. I mean, he was nice and all, I guess, but I didn’t need any friends. Heck, I don’t even know why this kid was being nice to me. It’s not like I’m anything special. He frowned, and set off down the hall. I kept my hood up and followed at a distance; he seemed to get the ‘stay away from me right now’ vibe from me, and I was grateful; I didn’t want to talk to anyone.

Even though I tried to keep my head down and not draw attention to myself, I felt everyone's eyes on me as I made my way down the hallway. I looked everywhere but at them. Because we had a long walk to Italian, I took the time to study my surroundings. The outside of the school was very pristine and nice looking, but the inside was downright disappointing. Old posters lined the white-painted walls, torn, out of date, and covered in marker ink that suggested some things that were not very appropriate for a school environment.

When we finally reached the classroom, the teacher--Mrs. Esposito, I think-- told me I could sit anywhere I liked. I nodded, and immediately set off to the back of the classroom, to the secluded seat all the way in the corner. I pulled out my earbuds and stuffed them in my ears; I didn’t need to listen to the lesson; I lived in Italy my entire life! So I just closed my eyes and listened to my music. Music was the best thing in the world, and probably the main reason why I hadn’t lost my composure yet. It has a calming effect on me, and I love it. The corner of my mouth quirked up in a half smile; my favorite song, sung by Daughtry, had just come on. I quickly put it on repeat, and closed my eyes, mouthing the words as I laid my head on my arms.

“She’s talking to angels,

She’s counting the stars

Making a wish on a passing car

She’s dancing with strangers,

She’s falling apart

Waiting for Superman to pick her up

In his arms, yeah, in his arms, yeah

She’s waiting for Superman”

Man, I loved that song. It had a great sound, and I could relate to the lyrics- I was waiting for my Superman to come and take me away from my miserable life.

“Noemi, stai prestando attenzione?” the teacher said, and suddenly twenty-four pairs of eyes were on me. She had said, “Naomi, are you paying attention?” I rolled my eyes.

“Beh, la signora Esposito, mi sono trasferito qui in Italia, quindi non ho davvero bisogno di ... Infatti, ho potuto aiutare a insegnare la classe se volete.” I smirked. I know I shouldn’t have said it, but come on, lady, are you being serious? For those of you wondering, I’d said, “Well, Mrs. Esposito, I moved here from Italy, so I do not really need to... In fact, I could help you teach the class if you would like.”

Those that understood what I said--because I speak Italian very, very quickly-- started laughing. What surprised me, though, was that Mrs. Esposito looked surprised, and then she started to laugh. “Well, why don’t you come up here, then, and tell us a bit about yourself--but speak in Italian,” she said, although she didn’t say it meanly; it was meant as a kind comment, and I guess she was trying to use me as a learning experience for the other kids, or whatever. I shrugged, paused my music, and slowly walked up to the front. I looked out at all the kids, and I spotted Carter giving me a thumbs-up. I rolled my eyes and stuck my tongue out at him, and he returned the gestures.

I took a deep breath, and said, “Il mio nome è Naomi Ryder. Sono venuto da Pompei, in Italia, in provincia di Napoli. Ho un fratello che è di due anni più giovane di me, una matricola, e poi una sorella di dieci anni di nome Lucia e un bambino di sette anni, fratello minore di nome Domenico, o Nico in breve.” (“My name is Naomi Ryder. I came from Pompeii, Italy, in the province of Naples. I have a brother that is two years younger than me, a freshman, and then a ten year old sister named Lucia and a seven year old little brother named Domenico, or Nico for short.”) I looked at Mrs. Esposito, and she nodded, telling me to continue.

“Il mio ultimo nome in origine era Finocchiaro, ma quando mio padre si risposò il mio attuale...tutore di sesso femminile, abbiamo preso il suo cognome, che era Ryder.” (“My last name originally was Finocchiaro, but when my father remarried my current...female guardian, we took her last name, which was Ryder.”) I looked to Mrs. Esposito, eyebrow raised in a silent question. She nodded, and I started my way back to my seat, never once looking up at the faces of my classmates. Not that I was shy or anything, I just didn’t feel like looking at any of them. A few people tried to trip me, which was also another good thing about looking down. I just knew that people here would hate me. I'm the outcast. When I reached my seat, I dropped into it with a sigh. Well, if people didn’t like me already, then why bother trying? Better to just save my energy.

I listened to music for the rest of the lesson, and when the bell rang, I quickly packed up my stuff and practically ran out the door, and I leaned on the wall outside, waiting for Carter to appear so we could get to our next class as quickly as possible. A guy smacked into me-purposefully- on his way out, and I yelled, “What’s your problem?!” right in his face. That was my first mistake.