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“It’s okay,” I say quickly as I leave. I hate how easily I get nervous. As I walk to my flat, I can feel his eyes burning holes in the back of my head.
When I get home, I flop down on the couch. I smile when I get home. This is a lot better than living with my aunt and uncle. It’s hard, but it’s a lot better than it was before. But something is bothering me.
I made it through today. I feel proud, and I smile to myself.
I just hope school isn’t too bad.
I put the bags in my room. I wash up and put on my pyjamas. I also cook a simple dinner for myself. My heart almost stops when I get back to my room and take off my new clothes.
I look for it here and there, but I can’t find it.
Oh no. No, no, no.
No.
I think I forgot my shopping bag on the pavement. I thought I had picked up everything when I ran into him. I guess I didn’t. I let out a loud groan. It wasn’t just any shopping bag; it was the one that had my new pants in it. My pants.
That’s great.
I hope the guy didn’t see it; that would be very embarrassing.
And I really hope I don’t run into him if he did look into it. I laugh at what I think. There’s no way we’d run into each other in this huge city.
I jump into bed and make myself comfortable. I don’t need to worry about this. I welcome sleep when I close my eyes.
 
As I walk through the hallway full of students, I can hear whispers. I can feel the anxiety settling in because I’ve never been a social person. A lot of them don’t see me, but some do. I can even hear some of the whispers, which don’t help my anxiety.
Most of the comments are about how I look, and they are trying to judge me by how I look. Based on how I look. From what they can see in the five minutes they’ve been with me.
I think to myself, “Well, that’s going to be very accurate.”
As I walk, I look down and let my long hair cover my face. Nobody likes being judged. It’s hard for me to find the reception. I asked some girls before, and they just looked at me with blank stares. I’m not going to ask anyone else.
Before I know it, I run into someone and their papers go flying everywhere and land on the floor.
Not again.
I can see who I bumped into by rubbing the spot on my head where it got hit.
I see a girl who is clearly upset kneeling in front of me, picking up the papers and putting them in order. I choose to help her, unlike the man from yesterday. “I’m sorry,” I say with a small smile of apology after I have gathered all the papers.
“No, no, it’s fine,” she says in a cheerful voice. “Are you new? I haven’t seen you around.” She waits for an answer, and her look isn’t judgemental.
“Yes, today is my first day,” I say with a nervous smile as I play with my fingers. She’s about my height, 5’4″. Her pale face is framed by beautiful red hair that goes all the way down to her waist. She has on a white top and tan trousers that are too big.
“I’m Skye, nice to meet you!” she squeals, and I can’t help but smile at how happy she is. “Do you need help? What’s your name?”
I say, “Lyra.” She frowns at me. I say, “My name.” She whispers “oh” and smiles.
“Can you point me in the direction of the reception?”
“Okay, let’s go.”
Skye is nice; she helps me find the reception. With her red hair, green eyes, and small body, she looks really pretty. She also helps me find out what time my classes are and takes me to my first one. Sadly, we only have calculus and history together.
“Okay, I’ll see you at lunch. Text me,” she says.
I mumble an okay, happy that I won’t be alone.
.English Literature is my first class. As I walk into the class, my anxiety grows as I see the students sitting there, all busy with their own things. There are almost enough people in the class. There are two seats next to each other. I can see an empty seat in the back of the room. I flop down in the chair and see a few people looking at me.
And slowly, almost everyone is looking at me.
The couple who were kissing have stopped and are now looking at me.
I look down at my lap, hoping that everyone will stop looking at me. Is there something wrong with how I look? Is it because I’m new?
I wore a white top, a black skirt, and knee-high boots. I let my blonde hair down and didn’t wear much makeup, other than mascara and a light pinkish n**e lipstick. I didn’t know how much to wear.
Does that make me look strange?
I then see them looking at the guy next to me.
I can’t see the guy’s face because he has his head down on the table and is facing the wall. It’s very likely that he’s sleeping. I ignore the eyes and wait for class to start, hoping he will stay asleep for the rest of the time.
“Should we tell her to sit somewhere else?” I hear a girl say, and then someone else says “no.” What’s wrong with this chair? Is it the man?
The class goes completely quiet when Mrs. Reeves, the teacher, walks in. She tells me to tell her about myself.
Oh no, I completely forgot about that.
“Uh, hi. I’m Lyra Moore,” I say with a nervous smile and sit down. That was a little weird. Can the ground just open up and eat me? I hope I didn’t sound as worried as I was.
The class is very boring. I do my best to keep my eyes open. The man next to me is snoring softly, which doesn’t help. His soft snores make me want to sleep too.
Mrs. Reeves makes everyone groan when she says, “You are getting an assignment today.” The class is almost over.
My ears perk up. Please don’t judge me, but I really like doing my homework. That’s what we all really like to do, though. Making a decision.
“You and your partner will be writing a thousand-word essay about anything related to art. The person sitting next to you will be your partner. The assignment is due next week,” she says.
Oh God, why did I sit next to this guy? I think about waking him up when everyone else leaves, not just because I need to talk to him about the assignment but also because class is over. I shake him.
“Go away,” he says with a groan. His voice is very deep and sleepy.
I shake him once more.
I shake him and say, “Hey, the class is over.”
When he turns his head to the other side, my heart skips a beat.
I think I know him. He’s the guy I ran into yesterday.
I take a shaky breath to calm down, shake him one last time, and then he finally opens his eyes.
Just to shut them again.
Ugh. I decide to do something because the class is almost empty, and a smile comes to my lips. “Wake up! The class is over!” I yell, and that’s all it takes. I laugh so hard my stomach hurts when he almost falls out of his chair.
I guess I shouldn’t have done that.