My head felt empty and hazy as I lazily dragged myself out of bed. It would be my first day starting Mythcrest High School, and it would be a major understatement saying I was nervous.

If I where honest with myself, I would admit that moving schools definitely wasn't what I had in mind for the remainder of my teenage years, but I had no choice when my mother made the choice.

When she'd broken the news, I'd painfully gone through each stage of grief. Denial was the largest one: I tended to try and convince myself everything was all a dream, but once I had finally accepted the fact this wasn't just an idea but a reality, I was still pissed that the only reason we moved was supposedly 'for my own safety.'

Any question I had about the move was simply answered by those four short words.

I couldn't blame my mother for acting this way: she was scared and alone. My father had died five short months ago, and his death was ruled as a murder.

They never found the body. They never found the killer. All they found was the memory of a missing father and husband.

I think my mother was scared that my father's attacker was after us too, as if there was some kind of gang against us. I never blamed her for it, but one question constantly hung around in my brain: why my father?

He kept to himself, had no enemy's, didn't gamble, drink, go to clubs, or any place where he could possibly be killed. His death was all over the news for weeks, and everybody in our small town knew. Wherever I went, I would see people staring at me and whispering. Probably talking about what a poor little girl I was, or how devastated my family must be. But I didn't want their pity. I hated attention, and hated being the subject of gossip even more. My mother probably just wanted to get away from everything, and start fresh.

"Kaitlin!" I heard my mum's voice ring through the hall, "are you awake?"

"Uh-huh," I called back.

"Are you getting ready for school?"

"Just moving."

"You don't sound very excited. You should be happy! Even Yasmine moved schools with you!"

My mother was right. The reason Yasmine - my best friend in the whole wide world - had moved was because her mum and my mum were also friends. They couldn't be apart, but that was a good thing, considering I couldn't be without Yasmine either.

"You're right." I sighed. "I'm going to get dressed now." After I heard my mother mutter a sound of agreement, I leaped out of bed, pulled out of my pink silk pj's, and entered the bathroom. Turning on the shower, I closed my eyes as the warm, steamy water poured over my back. It was calming, and relaxed my tense muscles.

Then, after about five minutes, I turned off the water, wrapped myself in a towel, and entered back into my bedroom. I inspected my closet for clothes worthy of being worn on my first day of Mythcrest High. Knowing absolutely nothing about my new school, I needed something that was stylish but also expressed my simple and straightforward personality. I picked out a light blue pair of ripped jeans, and a tight cream tank top that hugged my figure. It felt like something was missing, so I chose a golden necklace with a small heart, and a matching pair of emerald earrings to match my eyes.

After I pulled on a pair of socks and jogging shoes, it was time to tackle my hair. This was always the worst part of getting dressed in the morning. I had wavy brunette locks with blonde tips that reached halfway down my back. It was also extremely frizzy, and refused to stay in place.

The best option was to stay safe and go simple, so I twisted my hair into a loose messy bun and pulled a forest green hair tie over the mess to keep it together. I pulled some pieces of hair loose to add depth to my face - because it was very small and never seemed to match the size of my body - and examined myself in the mirror. As good as it'll get. I tried on my best smile, opened the bedroom door, walked down the hall, and turned left down the staircase.

Every morning was a surprise. I'd only live here for a few months and was constantly forgetting that I wouldn't see the familiar window roof, colourful hand-painted walls, and family pictures covering surface.

My new house had creaky, scratched floorboards, peeled beige paint on the walls, and outdated furniture. But it was home Or at least as home-like as it would get for now. Although I had already made some amazing new memories at this house - decorating and re-painting my new bedroom, painting pictures with my mother to cover the numerous cracks and holes in walls, and going to a thrift store to pick out carpets and ornamental objects- it didn't feel complete without my father.

I knew my mum felt the sting too, and although she tried so hard to make me think everything was fine, I could see the loneliness and struggle in her eyes. My father was the love of her life after all. I let out a slow, deep breath; now wasn't the time to be sad - I had a new school to get to.

My mum met me at the wooden table, handed me a piece of toast with peanut butter, and a small cup of coffee. "Thanks." I murmured.

"What's up?"

"Mhmm?"

"You seem so down lately. I know it's the first day of your new school, and you must be nervous, but you seemed so excited yesterday to try out all the new activities."

"I am excited," I muttered, feeling the uncomfortable sting of tears in my eyes. "I'm just thinking about dad."

"Oh. Of course. I think about him too. But don't get too down in the dumps. I'm sure he's smiling down on you from... wherever he is. He would have been so excited for you to start your new school."

"I suppose." As I was watching my mother nod in agreement, I noticed she quickly turned away, and swiped a stray tear from under her eye.

Mum didn't like it when I saw her cry: she seemed to think that she was letting me down. Today, I didn't want her to think that, so I quickly sat and ate my toast in silence before downing the entire cup of coffee in one sip. Kissing my mother goodbye, I unlocked the door, and walked over to my Toyota.

I had only just gotten my license, and in celebration, my mum had very thoughtfully bought me a Toyota. It was very old, basically ancient, with fading grey paint and a squeaking engine, but I loved it all the same. It was mine. My first car, which my mum managed to buy for me despite our difficult financial situation.

I dropped down onto tho the dusty seat, I turned the key into the ignition, buckled myself in, and pressed my foot down on the pedal.

Following the directions I had stored in my head from that first drive to the new house, I managed to remember where the school was, and after 20 minutes, pulled in a small parking lot filled to the brim with kids.

Through my safety of my car window, I looked at a massive brick building that was about four stories tall. There where concrete stairs leading up to blue wooden doors at the front of the building, and a single tree on either side. I circled around the parking lot, then pulled sharply into a tight parking space. Before anything else, I grabbed at my phone and dialled in Yasmine's number.

"Hey," her voice picked up.

"Hi Yas. Are you almost at school?"

"I'm already here. I'm standing under one of the trees next to the door."

"Okay, I'll see you-"

"Oh, and by the way, have you seen the guys at this school? They're all super-hot. Well, not all of them, but I saw this guy-"

"I'll meet you at the stairs," I finished cutting her off and ending the call; now was not the time to hear one of her 'hot guy' rants. I couldn't care less about the boys here - I wasn't interested. Boys only break your heart, and distract you from your studies... at least that's what I've learnt from Yasmine's stories of her ex's. After locking my Toyota, and trudged sceptically towards the building.

I saw the eyes of the students peer at me, examining me from head to toe. I suddenly felt extremely self-conscious, and I felt my heart rate and breathing slowly start to speed up. I noticed my knees shaking, and my hands slick with sweat. My finger's where playing with my shirt, and I couldn't help but look around like a nervous idiot. Why am I so scared?

It wasn't like me to get so nervous over going someplace knew - I loved an adventure - but I had to remind myself this is my first-time moving schools, and I had no ideas what the fuck I was doing.

"Kay!" I twirled around to see Yasmine waving and smiling at me from the tree. Rushing over to her, I wrapped her into a right hug.

Yas' long black hair tickled my face as I buried it into her shoulder.

"Are you okay?." She whispered. "You're sweating, shaking, and I haven't felt your heart beat so hard since you where dared to kiss Tyler in the fourth grade." I had no response, so I just glared. Her small features scrunched up in her heart shaped face, making her look deceptively like a mischievous pixie.

"Okay, okay. Your nervous. I get it, but don't worry, it's not as if I'm going to ditch you or anything." I felt a sudden appreciation towards Yasmine, knowing how lucky I was to have her as my best friend.

She was never going to let me feel alone, and I never wanted her to feel alone either. Not knowing how to express this, I pulled her into another close hug, before grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the doors.

Being with Yas distracted me from all the staring people, and this allowed my breath and heart to regain their usual, steady pace.

As soon as we entered the school, I was hit by the sudden pang of sweat and humidity. This was no surprise with all the bodies bustling around the entrance, squeezing together shoulder-to-shoulder, but I felt suffocated all the same . I grabbed Yasmine's arm so I wouldn't lose her in the crowd, and pulled her forward towards the far back wall.

"It's rowdy in here." Yasmine spoke into my ear, sounding a bit too excited.

"Agreed." I said.

"Let's find the office so we can get our class schedules."

Nervously eyeing the suffocating room, I took in my surroundings. The wall behind me had rows of framed pictures, each with a photo of a successful Alumni of the school. So, this is where the smart and successful people end up, I thought to myself. I wondered if everybody else, those who merely graduated, where still acknowledged after they left the school. Probably not. As I kept looking around the entrance of the school, I took note of the high roof - at least double my height - which had small circular lights responsible for lighting up the long hallways. Cream square tiles had been placed on the floor, and looked as though they were once modern and expensive. Now, they were littered with pieces of paper, gum, dirt, and plastic food wrappers. The hall to my left looked like it extended on forever, with doors spread evenly along each of the walls. At the end of the hall, there was a wide blue door, with an unreadable plaque above it.

I nudged Yas, and pointed a finger toward the door. "That must be the main office. Let's go." I grabbed her elbow and dragged her in the direction of the door. After running into multiple people, and receiving numerous looks of disgust, Yasmine and I made it to the door.

The bronze plaque above it read 'Administration', so I grabbed the handle, pulled it open, and sighed as a wave of cool, refreshing air hit my face.

The front office made the rest of the school look like a dumpsite. It had marbled tiles that gleamed against the sunlight pouring in through the large floor to ceiling window behind the desk. The desk had timber panelling around its belly, and had a counter to match the tiles. Snow-white walls covered every side, and had had a carefully carved trim where it met the roof. There where black leather sofas that had been pushed against the doors, and matching black coffee tables. Instead of reeking like sweat and BO, the air smelt like a mix of lavender and vanilla, and was pleasantly sweet. A large crystal chandelier hung from the roof, and it caused disco-like lights on the floor as the sunlight was cast against it.

"Hello, how can I help you?" I turned back towards the desk, and saw an old lady sitting behind it. She had a tight grey bun, which was slicked back with what must have been a whole bottle of hair spray. She had a collection of lines on her forehead, and around her eyes. Her sharp gaze and startling red lipstick made her seem strict, and well held together. However, when she smiled, her diamond blue eyes glistened, and her white smile radiated.

"Hi." I said, returning her smile. "My friend Yasmine Swan and I are new today, and we are here to collect our class schedules."

"Oh yes," the old lady said, her voice tight and croaky, but pleasant all the same. "You must be Kaitlin Yarrow."

"Yes."

The lady grabbed a pink folder from the book organizer to her right, and shifted through the pages until she picked out two small pieces squares. Passing them over the shining marble desk, she let us know that if we couldn't find our classes, we could pay her a visit. Smiling in agreement, I took the papers of her.

"Thank you-" I peeked at the silver name tag pinned to her purple V-neck shirt, and read Miss. Mary Craig.

"- Thank you Miss. Craig."

I immediately decided that I liked Miss. Craig, as her positive energy seemed to radiate around the room

I passed Yasmine's timetable to her, then sifted my eyes over my own. English, Math, US history, biology, drama, and physical education. Looked fine to me. Peeking over at Yas's timetable, I noticed that she had English, Math, Biology, and PE with me. And lucky for us (sarcastically of course), we had English first.