September 1, 2004
My first day of school at Spencer High School was one of the more terrifying experiences of my young life. I felt totally lost among the crowd; the population of this high school was easily three times the size of the private school I had attended in Lubbock, Texas. My first two classes were fairly uneventful. I was an advanced math student and as a sophomore, I was in a classroom full of students at least two years older than me including a really cute senior, Sam Winchester. The teacher looked a little lost and I think I probably could have done a better job of teaching the class. It doesn’t help that my father, who was an engineer, had taught me advanced math concepts from a very young age. My history class was also a disappointment. My older brother Jasper, who was a history major at Dartmouth, almost died when he saw my text book. It looked like it really was from 1865.
I had been absolutely terrified to start school that day. My parents had been killed in a convenience store robbery three months before and I still didn’t have any friends outside my siblings here. Of course it’s very difficult to make friends when you spend almost all your time with your nose stuck in a book…
It was finally lunch time and I made it to the cafeteria, without incident, and found my older sister, Rosalie, who was a senior that year. She looked pissed. “Rose, what’s the matter, you look ready to kill some one.” I commented as I dropped my bag in the floor and pulled my lunch out.
“This school has the worst auto body shop I’ve ever seen. I’m not going to be able work on my own car here. They want us to learn the ‘basics’ as they call it. Its pure laziness.” she crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. I had to laugh at her. My sister was five foot ten with beautiful, waist length blonde hair and dark blue eyes and for all that she looked like a super model, my sister’s true obsession was cars. She drove a nineteen sixty-nine cherry red mustang convertible and that car was her baby and you had to be pretty damn special to touch it let alone ride in it.
“Are you still hoping to find the driver of the sixty-seven Impala we saw last week?” I asked her, hedging away from her rant
“Yes. I’m even more determined, now. I hope they know a really good mechanic. I’m going to need one!” She huffed.
“Ok, the disappointment of your auto class aside how was your morning?” I tried again.
“You are not going to like the English Department. You’ve read all of the books on all the lists and the teachers are all ancient. They look like they were around when those books were published.” she huffed.
Great, I could already tell she wasn’t going to be happy here at all. I was afraid to tell her about the history department and she really didn’t like what I had to say about the math department. “Rosalie, I think Aunt Esme was right. We are totally spoiled. Carson Academy probably spent more on books every year than they spend on payroll here. Look on the bright side; you only have to endure a year of this. I, on the other hand, have to get through three.” I told her with a grimace.
She laughed. “That is very true. Well, we only have to get through another couple of hours today. Then you can go home and bug Jasper about his first day.”
The first bell rang and we both got up and headed to our next classes. Hers was next door to mine so we walked together. She hugged me at the door and I walked into the classroom.
I was startled when a voice barked out “Last Name?” very close to my ear.
“Whitlock” I answered quietly, looking at the teacher, who was exactly like Rose had described. He looked like he had been around to pick up a first edition of Great Expectations. He directed me to the last table in a corner by the windows. There were already two people sitting at the table. One of them was an extremely dorky looking guy who kind of reminded me of Anthony Michael Hall in “The Breakfast Club” or “Sixteen Candles”. He was talking animatedly to the brunette sitting next to him. She had her nose buried in a book. I was happy to see that it was Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire I hoped that this meant maybe we‘d have something in common. I took the seat across from the brunette. The boy immediately turned his attention on me. “Hi! I’m Eric Yorkie. You must be Jessica Whitlock, the other new girl.”
“Umm, yeah, how did you know that?” I answered hesitantly. Now that I was close enough; I could see that he was a total nerd; the kind who is way too into Dungeon and Dragons. He was practically bouncing out of his seat.
“I work in the attendance office. I printed out all of the rosters for my classes.”
“Okay then. That’s not creepy at all.” I whispered under my breath. I was kind of weirded out by him. Luckily for me, his attention was grabbed by a student across the room. I looked at the girl sitting across from me. She looked like she was nice with her long brown hair and green-hazel eyes. She had closed her book the second crazy boy had started talking to me. “Hi. I’m Danielle Winchester. The other new girl he was talking about.”
“Yeah, he’s kinda weird. He totally reminds me of a character from a ‘Brat Pack’ movie. I can totally see him asking to borrow my panties for 5 minutes.” I commented.
She laughed. “I think he’s totally harmless but I see what you mean. So, when did you move here?” She asked
“June. My parents died and my brother sister and I moved here shortly afterwards. Are you Sam’s sister?” I asked her abruptly. Sam had been very nice to me this morning in math class.
“Yeah, you met Sam?” She answered looking shocked.
“Mmhmm. He’s in my trig class. When did you move here?”
“July. My dad retired from the Marines and this is where he got a job. I’m excited to know that I get to spend the whole school year in one school for once.”
The teacher chose that moment to start class. I was disappointed, I was enjoying our conversation and I was hoping that Danielle and I could be friends.