Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3: Nallah by heart

The clickity-clack of heels and pumps could be heard, thumping against the floor as I approached my first block classroom, English with Ms. Dickens. Entering her classroom made butterflies leap through my stomach. The room was the ideal English classroom, complete with large bay windows with wooden slatted shutters, individual desks in rows, cheery posters illustrating the parts of speech, and a large oak teacher’s desk. Projected on the wall was “Ms. Dickens”, in twisted cursive. I made my way to the back of the room, and sat in an empty chair. Soon, the other girls poured into the room, along with a tall, slender woman, who must have been Ms. Dickens. She was young, about in her 30’s, and had the prettiest auburn hair, brown eyes and freshly waxed eyebrows. Ms. Dickens looked the complete opposite of a teacher in her lilac printed silk tunic, gold bangles, and peep toe pumps. The familiar bell sounded, and Ms. Dickens spoke.
“Welcome Class, to 6th grade English, room C111 with Ms. Dickens.” She said, gesturing to the the overhead projector.
“I will now quickly go over attendance, so please stand when I call your name.”
“Mehgan Anderson?”
A girl in blue jean overalls stood.
“Here.” She peeped.
“Kami Boyd?”
My heart pounced. The Bubblegum girl stood, complete with a Chiffon Feather Maxi Dress, Metalic gold sandals, and a matching jeweled Filigree cuff bracelet. As if on cue, she popped a bubble.
“Present.” She said rolling her “r”.
Two girls seated next to her applauded.
I sighed and knew that I had a long day to go.

After a long class of intoductions and tours, the bell sounded. I rose to my feet, slung my Florentina Shoulder bag over my shoulder, and strode out the door. A few classrooms down was Social Studies with Ms. Adams.
As I stepped over the threshold, a lemony scent made my temples throb. This classroom, had bare walls, blind-covered windows, and stone-cold desks. I shivered, and sat down on the nearest chair, plugging my nose. A loud popping sound came from the door, and in came Kami, with her two clones, Kara and Klaire. I rolled my eyes, and rubbed my hands together. An old woman emerged from a supply closet on the left side of the room. She was about in her mid-sixties, wore round brown glasses and a loose fitting jean dress. Her hair was short and silvery and flared out at the ends.
“Hello.” She greeted in a deep, serious voice. “I am Ms. Adams.”
“Today,” she continued. “We will be creating Family Trees, as a way to introduce ourselves to each other. It will show our hobbies and interests as well.” She paced around the room and pulled out a stack of tree diagrams and distributed them to all the tables.
“Family Tree and Interests Diagram” the paper’s title read.
I sighed and filled in the names on my Mom’s side, as well as I could. I drew a picture of my sewing machine and my yellowing manikin under interests, and was halfway done scribbling my name in cursive on the top, before Mehgan Anderson, a.k.a “overalls girl”, burst through the doorway. She handed Ms. Adams a neon pink late pass and sat in the empty seat next to mine. I got a chance to sneak a peak of her face, small round blue eyes, noticable overbite, sprinkled freckles on the bridge of her pig nose, and deep chin dimples. Her eyes raced as the studied the paper, and her hand wobbled as she picked up her pen. Kami, Kara, and Klaire snickered a few seats away, and made faces at the back of Mehgans head. I felt kind of sorry for her, but was relieved that it wasn’t me they were laughing at- yet.

The day progressed, and after lunch with total strangers, Science with bony old Mrs. Gregory, and Math with overyly-cheerful Mrs. Ingalls, the day finally came to an end. I boarded the bus with a heavy head, and got dropped off with a growling stomach. Mom met me at the door with a smiling nod, and took my heavy tote from my arms.
“How was school?” She asked reading my tired expression.
“Good.” I somberly answered, collapsing on the crème sofa.
“Meet any new people?” she asked.
“Uhh, not yet.” I said.
Avoiding and furthur questions I made my way to the stairs. I was feeling empty inside, like my insides had been poured out. The humid summer air got thicker as I climbed the stairs, and once I reached my room, I felt oddly comfortable. Tearing open the packet of floral fabric on my duvet cover, I began to cut and pin together a masterpiece that would knock that Kami Boyd’s socks clean off.