P.S*Sorry about the last update. I was in such a crazy hurry that I didn’t notice I had put in a wrong draft**

Perks Of The New School

"You are heading to your first class right?"

"Y.. es. Its English. I have a map, but I cannot understand it." A smile plays on her face. "It is not your fault that you do not.

No one ever does. The rich brats gets a human direction guide. While we poor fools get the stupid map." Her face turns dark. "I think it was purposefully made that way so we would have no choice but to speak to the sharks." She had muttered that. So it sounded like she was speaking more to herself than to me and I happen to overhear it. She re-wore her smile. It is a gummy one. She is such a smiler.

"As for the fact that you have English, you are in luck because that is what I have too. Lucky you. It would have been an hassle if I had to take you down the hall to another. Come with me." She says, moving ahead while I trail after her.

"I’m Curry by the way." She introduces. And I flatly say mine. I inwardly wonder how that can be a name. "My name wasn’t originally curry. Its Steph. Stephanie." Is everyone in this school mind-readers? She continues, "But my mom almost always used to call me Curry because I loved and still love her Curry dishes more than anything else in the world. It’s a cool name, isn’t it?"

"Yes. It is."

That brings a bashful smile to her face. It makes her look more radiant. I have never seen a person with cinnamon hair before. It is short. Falling just around her neck. And she has freckles with a gold-tinted skin tone.

"Everyone I tell thinks that too! It is so much better than Stephanie." She says in a flat, tasteless tone. I do not think it is a cool name. But whatever works for you.

She suddenly turns, almost crashing into me. "Oops! Sorry. I forgot to give them their bags." She rushes past me into a door and return after a few minutes without the numerous bags. I have questions. But I just keep my mouth shut and confine the words within. "What is that doing in your hand?" She points to the box I had gotten from the administration office.

I had almost forgot that I was holding it. I did not feel the weight of it on my hands until she asked. Being cursed out and shown your place on the very first day thirty minutes in your new school can do that to you.

"Wouldn’t it be better to go to class first? I will be much later if I tried finding my locker now.

You think I could maybe put it down somewhere here?" I ask her, eyeing the spacious and empty hallway. She stares at me funny. "Right here? In the classrooms hallway? Well you can.

That is if you have no problem picking it one by one out of all the trash bins in this school.

You have a lot of learning to do about this place. You should be glad you met me. I will be your survival guide."

We walk a few more meters before she stops in front of a door. Opens it, and enters. The first thing I actually notice is not that the classroom is arranged in a college like setting.

The seats are not made individually but for a group of people. Three different rows with small spaces in between where someone can pass through. Ascending down high to low like in stadiums spectators area with a lot of people sitting on it.

I felt a sudden chill which was made worse by the sight of the teacher standing in front of the big green board.

He has this wicked looking pair of dark eyes that makes me unable to tell if he is simply staring or glaring at me. He asks why we were late to his class and Curry happily explained the situation. Including the fact that I am new. I think he already knew that.

"Are you holding that box to show that you are a new student?" God, the box, again. "No." I keep my voice low, calm and steady. Any louder and it would come out shaky. I cannot wait to go sit down and step away from the number of eyes currently watching me.

"I figured I would be later or miss the class if I were to go to find my locker first." I answer. I start to hear whispers and snickers. I don’t bother to look at the small crowd of students because that would kill what little confidence I have. I’m used to being mocked for one reason or the other.

"Decorum, please." The whispers mostly stopped by becoming a lot lower when the teacher says that. He crosses his arms, tilts his head. Watching me intently like he is trying to decipher what I’m made of. That made me wish I could disappear. Or become liquid. "I ought to punish you for coming late to my class by giving you detention. But I would pass on that since you were sensible enough to know first things first. Alright. Settle in both of you."

Curry and I find a seat at the front row of the second seats. I settle in and bring out my writing materials. I find that I did not really need them much because he was sort of speaking about English plays and William Shakespeare rather than generally teaching. The class ends shortly after. I put my book back into my bag and a novel fell out. Someone else picks it up before I could. "Burn For You.....third volume. Oh. My. Gosh!" The person remarks in a burgeoning tone of excitement. I look at him and instantly remember him to be the boy I had encountered at the gate.