I walked through the halls of this so called new school and I hate it.
Ambrosia High school its called.
Whoever thought of the name.
There are some girls standing in the hallway staring at me.
Yes, I am a new face, can you face your front at least? I roll my eyes as I walk past the announcement board.
My first period class is in the math building. I stare at the school map in my hand. A few minutes ago, my mom dropped me off in front of the gym. She wanted to do the traditional parent thing by walking me to my class and making sure I would be fine. I waved her off. I was not a fan of this new school and would definitely not be happy to be chaperoned on this fine Monday morning.
She pulled out her wallet and took out some money, she squeezed it into my hand.
“Make sure you buy some thing from the cafeteria to eat,” she said and stared at me nervously.
I snatched the money politely from her.
“Thank you,” I muttered.
“You need to smile, this frown you have on your face won’t help you at all,” she said as she turned on the engine.
“Alright,” I replied. I was tired of hearing about my facial expressions. My mom always said it gave away my feelings instantly. I had to learn to fix my face.
Oh well.
Everyone has to deal with it.
I don’t care if they don’t like me, they just have to deal with it.
Mrs Thomas, the math teacher was standing in front of the board, class was about to start. There was an empty desk beside the door. I took the spot and instantly settled in.
“Good morning class,” Mrs Thomas greeted. She seemed to be in her early forties.
The class responded. Our eyes met. She smiled at me.
“You must be the new girl,” she sad
“I am,” I responded confidently.
“And your name is?”
“Adaeze,”
She listened and the repeated my name, “Adaizi”
With the accent, it was pronounced wrong, I had no tolerance for anyone who butchered my name, even if it is slightly mispronounced.
“Adah, azay,” I repeated slowly as I emphasized pronunciation.
She nodded thoughtfully without repeating my name. Hopefully she gets it right when she reads the roster, because I won’t have it any other way.
A girl with orange braids chuckled and I shot a glance at her.
“What’s funny?I asked.
To be continued
WHISTLING BEAUTIFUL 