I couldn’t say I wasn’t excited. Nor was I particularly anxious about the first day of being in a new school. Really, after moving around so much as a child, I didn’t really feel as if it was out of the ordinary anymore, just a regular everyday occurrence in my life. And it wasn’t like I was leaving a lot behind every time I travelled. I quite like the solitary life and exploring different places, though of course spending time with my siblings was still a favourite pastime.

                    Perhaps it was due to all this travelling that led to my preference of having limited amounts of belongings with me. I grew to be called that lazy person; I was nothing like a stereotypical teenage girl. I didn’t really care about luxury fashion, I didn’t need the additional weight of a whole wardrobe following me wherever I went.The attire I would usually go for were mostly made up of random articles of comfy clothing I had picked up from the top of the shelf, like a crumpled pair of leggings or a hoodie I couldn’t even fathom when I had even purchased.

                    At one point, I had hazarded a great deal in whether I’d be judged by others. Regardless of how lazy I had become, peer pressure still existed and to some extent still influenced some of my decision-making but then another thought occurred to me, as to why bother? It was up to their minds to decide on perhaps how jaunty and pathetic I looked, and up to me to be myself. I refused to subject myself to whatever definition they had of ‘good-looking’ or ‘trendy’, and just flaunt whatever I had with me. Life was too short to worry about their judgemental eyes anyway.

                    But of course, I wouldn’t look like a slob. Definitely not on the first day, at the very least. I put on a short, loose red long sleeved top coupled with a short black skirt. I did a twirl in front of the mirror, hugging the soft red top to my body and inwardly gushing at how comfortable it was. I quickly put on a pair of heeled boots; it was quite old and worn-down, the leather being damaged, polished and damaged yet again, the constant cycle going on. I then picked out the one rucksack I basically carried everywhere; a gift my brother had given me a few years back.

                    The only thing on my mind as usual, on every school morning, was as to whether I had gotten everything yet. I always had this habit of going into a frenzy of thinking I had forgotten my books somewhere in the rooms, or left my sketchbook perhaps in the halls. My brother often liked to poke fun at this behavior of mine, describing me as a ‘drama queen of the ungodly mornings’ and laughing at my overreactions. But of course, things I needed would always manage to stay in my rucksack whenever I needed it. I gave my things a careful check, breathing out calmly as I headed out the door.

                     The school was something within my expectations, not like I was expecting anything to begin with; maybe Hogwarts-like as I might have hoped, or even a moat with large white sharks would be nice. No, this school was completely ordinary, with a mountainous landscape forming a shell around it. It was quite the lovely piece of architecture, simple yet…something I’d see and immediately think it was most definitely a school. It was the exact type of school I preferred as well, being far away from the noise and distractions of the city, and giving a lovely studying environment.

                       I was just about to take my first step in when a screech made me wince, almost tripping over my own feet. It was almost creepy how similar the screech was to goat screaming. Eyes narrowing, I turned to see a sea of people swarming by the entrance, a sudden gaggle of girl students milling about the gates, waving, jumping, doing all kinds of flirtatious actions to garner attention for no reason I could even fathom. Slowly, making use of my height, I raised my head and peered over the shorter girls that squeaked and squealed like a bunch of field mice.

                       Ah, and I should’ve guessed the reason why they were acting like brainless moths attracted to a flame. They were excitedly, practically throwing themselves at a bunch of boys; there were always some that were more popular, seemingly superior characteristics they had that made some tower over others. A group of around 10 or more were standing in the middle, smiles plastered on their faces that never wavered as they walked forward at a snail’s pace.

                        I rolled my eyes inwardly, quickly deeming the matter unworthy of wasting any time over. I didn’t hold anything against the boys; at least I hoped they weren’t pompous or dear charlatans that held themselves above others merely for the feeling of superiority. I walked away from the group, silently thanking the boys even, for garnering so much attention that any chance of me being placed as an object of scrutiny by being the new girl was completed annihilated by their presence.

                        The minute I entered the halls, I even pondered if perhaps I did owe those popular boys a thank you. The corridors were long and almost empty, except for a few students that scattered among their lockers for their first day and had decidedly avoided the crazy spectacle at the door, instead placing their time to good use as to not get lost the minute the bell rung.

                         The gratitude didn’t fade as I arrived the principal’s office without too many odd glances or questions thrown my way. A rather old, yet jolly old man gave me a warm, heartfelt welcome upon my entrance, his presence reminding me hauntingly of Santa Claus. I relaxed upon his welcome, as he handed me whatever documents was needed. We were consumed by the amiable chatter we were sharing when a sharp rap upon the door interrupted the conversation.

                         A slight prickle of annoyance rose; it truly irked me as to what person dared to disturb our lovely chat about gardenias when the door was opened to reveal a rather tall boy. I was at first surprised when all I could see was a very long, slim torso when I tipped my head up to see him have pale skin and a stocky stature, his eyebrows relaxed and his eyes with a serious gleam.

                         The principal was more than eager to introduce me to the boy, one that seemed to resemble being part of the group from the middle of the crazy fangirls earlier by the school entrance. I plastered a kind smile on my face, my head running a mile a minute as I began to quickly observe the boy. From the principal’s description and tone, he was definitely something along the lines of a “good, well-behaved” student, one that could and would do no wrong. He was intimidating because of his height, yes, but occasionally his eyes almost seemed to betray a softer side.

                         Perhaps he was someone worth acquainting with.

                         The first bit of information I got about the boy, was that his name was Kris. He was from Canada apparently, and had the similar experience to me of living in different countries. Upon witnessing that these similar experiences could definitely stir up some small talk between us, the principal was soon happily pushing us out of the office, encouragingly smiling at me as he waved cheerily and closed the door.

                         I was a little miffed that I couldn’t finish that conversation about gardenias; I was truly fascinated by the principal’s knowledge on the genus.

                        The sound of Kris clearing his throat caught my attention. I adjusted my gaze to look at him, my eyes carefully neutral as I raised my eyebrows in question. He scratched his head, his face sheepish. There was a slight fidget in his fingers, his eyes betraying his hesitancy towards the situation.

                         Perhaps shy, hesitant in talking to strangers?

                         I provided him a careful smile, before looking out towards the school. As if on cue, he then began to point out the places within vision. I nodded at his words, following him around as I constructed a mental map of the school; it may not be the biggest, but it still had quite a few locations and I absolutely refused to make a fool out of myself for being lost on the first few days. Kris almost seemed to know that was exactly what I was doing, handing me a copy of the floorplan of the school. I nodded gratefully to his considerate thinking, smiling mildly at him, his cheeks pinking ever so slightly in the light that I almost thought it was non-existent.

                         Upon approaching a door, which I presumed was our classroom, he gave me a look as if to tell me to be ready for whatever was behind it. I rolled my eyes inwardly, as he pushed the door open to reveal quite a mundane classroom filled with students and a teacher looking at us expectantly.

                          I heard the teacher mention my name, introducing me in a cheerful tone as she waved me in. My eyes were narrowed in slits, observing the people that looked on quietly, as I warily took a few steps in. The students observed me, as if I were a lab rat being inspected by a bunch of preschoolers. It was overwhelming to be scrutinized by so many people at the same time.

                         The teacher smiled brightly at me, gesturing for me to take a seat. The action was the best I could wish for, gratitude for the teacher rushing up as I blinked up, seeing a seat sheltered by curtains, by the window that showed clear skies and freedom. I swiftly slid into it, placing my rucksack carefully by my side.

                         A tap on my shoulder made my head snap up to meet the gaze of a boy. A wide smile adorned his face, as he gave me a cheerful wave. I stared at him questioningly, as he proceeded to introduce himself and his friends that were apparently sitting by his side. Joonmyun, this oddly cheerful boy, was apparently a close friend to Kris. And there were two more that gave me more awkward waves, Sehun and Tao.

                         I gazed at them briefly, my eyes briefly taking in their appearances. I noted the peculiarity of Tao’s eyes seemingly glimmering a hue of red, but with a blink it was a normal shade of brown.

                         Hallucinations.

                         I inwardly berated myself for not having enough rest; how I had not made sure to have enough rest before the very first day of school was something that often troubled me. Probably a part of my subconscious that thinks that having less sleep and sacrificing it to reading would be worth it. Sitting upwards, I resigned to prepare myself for the long, mind-numbing day ahead of me.

                         The teacher droned on about formulas and something about deltas as I scribbled brainlessly at my notebook. The notes, supposedly related to my studies, through my mindless doodling seemed to slowly morph as my hand seemed to choose to draw instead of writing insane chemistry-related mumbo jumbo.

                         Odd symbols were soon scribbled at the empty spaces of my notes; next to diagrams of beakers there was an odd phoenix. By the side of calculations was a weirdly shaped scorpion.

                          I silently sighed at the result of my notes, inwardly questioning my subconscious at the sight of the sketches. Twirling my pen between my fingers, I became lost in my thoughts as I tuned out of the teacher’s voice and decided that daydreaming was the safe haven I needed. The sound of the bell shook me from my thoughts, as I closed the notebook with a soft snap. A deep voice disturbed me from my musings.

                        “You must be a really good artist.”

                          I whipped my head around to meet the bright gaze of Joonmyun, his eyes filled with undisguised curiosity as he stared intently at my closed notebook. I stared at him, pondering this overly happy person and how nosy he was.

                         Carefully slipping my notebook away into my rucksack, I gave him a wary wave of goodbye as I left swiftly out the door, hoping that the rest of the day wouldn’t be as mediocre as I ever expected it to be.

                         Perhaps I was asking too much, as before I knew it, the mind-numbing hours had passed and my stomach began to growl and complain it wanted lunch. As I headed out, I cringed at the noise coming from not far away; the cafeteria, filled to the brim with rambunctious, hungry teenagers. Clutching my rucksack closer to my chest, I scurried away, as far as possible from the racket.

                         My legs carried me upstairs, nice and far from the noise. Silence seemed to fall as I began to wander, eyes filled with wonder as I realized I was at quite a high level in the building. A part that seemed to lack care and construction, dust scattered across the floor and dried paint cracking upon the walls. Cracked portions of the painted wall were strewn across the floor, creating what seemed like a very odd piece of dusty art.

                         I approached a door that was barred from access, a massive sign that warned against people entering. The rebellious side of me rose, along with my curiosity that won over my cautiousness and logical sense of mind. Ducking beneath the chains I proceeded to walk in quietly, observing the room I had entered.

                         It would’ve been quite dark and dreary, if not for the massive window that sat by the wall. Right by the window was an old, ageing bench that was covered in dust. The sunlight that shone in was more than enough to brighten the grey room. Rummaging in my bag, I picked up some random leaflet about societies within the school, and placed it on the bench before carefully sitting upon it. As much as I liked the place, I was wary of how dusty and dirty the place was.

                         As I made myself comfortable, I chewed at a wrap while I read through whatever content I had daydreamed through and organized the notes I had taken down, also unable to resist adding sketches here and there in blank spaces. I was absorbed in my work, memorizing the science that I hardly realized that I had missed a class along with lunch break.

                          I inwardly panicked slightly, glancing at my watch as I stuffed everything into my rucksack.Even if it was worth it, I knew I couldn’t miss any more classes on my first day. I scampered out of the room, closing the door swiftly as I ran to grab the remaining things I had so carelessly left in my locker, as I began bolting towards my classroom.

                          In the mixture of panic and rush, I lost sense of whatever direction I had and paid little attention to my surroundings. I gasped as the wind was knocked out of me, landing on the ground and sliding across the slippery floor. I wheezed, trying to get my breath back as I looked up to see another guy staring at me, looking very stunned, though obviously less winded than I was.

                          I winced, feeling a bad bruise on my leg. Footsteps sounded as I looked up to a large hand held out to me, the guy having gotten up quite quickly and came to have stopped in front of me, worry clouding in his gaze. I absentmindedly noted how warm his eyes were, before quickly shaking back into reality and accepting the large hand that pulled me to my feet. I nodded my gratitude and offered my apology quickly, not waiting for a reply as I sweeped my belongings firmly into my arms and taking off for class, very aware of my time constraints.

                          The lessons were once again, long, dreary, and talking about things I already knew. I rummaged through my bag, deciding I might as well make use of this wasted time and turn it into something more worthy.

                           A sense of panic ran through my whole being when I couldn’t feel the familiar feeling of the rows of metal rings beneath my fingers.

                           Feeling thoroughly disturbed and worried, I picked through my rucksack carefully, but my sketchbook was nowhere to be seen. I closed my eyes, silently chastising myself for being so careless. My hands closed into tight fists, my thoughts swirling with worry and anxiety.

                           I knew I couldn’t stay back after school and look for it either. I had to make sure my house plumbing and water systems were installed properly before the remaining workers could leave.

                           I let out a soft sigh, my brain working at high speed as I made plans to go to school earlier, and look for my sketchbook the very next day.

*******

                            I stepped out of the class, feeling extraordinarily tired and anxious as I placed my books away into the locker. Losing the sketchbook had left me quite frazzled. In between notes I had very restlessly made a sketch the boy with warm eyes that I had run into earlier; I began to wonder if he knew any boys I had met earlier.

                           “I hope you had a lovely day today.”

                           A deep smooth voice rang across the hallway, and I looked up to see Kris stepping towards me, a smile stretched across his thin lips. I smiled back mildly, albeit it being slightly forced due to my mind filled with thoughts of my missing sketchbook.

                           “Kris!” A loud voice pierced the comfortable silence we had, my eardrums slightly ringing from the volume. I turned quite surprised to see the boy with warm eyes being dragged by a much smaller, very excitable looking boy.

                            The boy practically collided with Kris and proceeded to chatter like a blackbird. I stared at them for a moment, slightly amused when I felt a finger lightly tap my shoulder. The boy with warm eyes was smiling at me gently, a flush working to my cheeks as I stared at him for a long moment.

                           “I believe this is yours,” He mumbled softly, holding out the very sketchbook I had been worried about. “You dropped it earlier when we had ran into each other. I’m really sorry about that, and I hope you’re not injured.”

                             I gingerly took my sketchbook from his outstretched appendages, and hugged the sketchbook tightly, a huge weight lifted off my chest. A soft chuckle interrupted my little celebratory hug and I looked up to the boy with mesmerizing eyes. I stared at him with curiosity and with a slight daze.

                           “My name is Luhan,” He murmured rather shyly, helping me place my sketchbook in the safety of my rucksack.

                             With a cheerful wave I then went on my way, much too occupied by my previously planned schedule. I scampered off outside the school doors, waving to Luhan as I ran off to catch a bus.

                             I didn’t even realize those eyes slowly lose its warmth as they watched me go, but instead were filled with concern and even foreboding as I disappeared off towards home.