Dear Messy Flower,
How’s school going? I hope this new school goes well. I tried to time this so you’d get it after school on the first day. Tell me how well I did! I knew the last school didn’t go so well, but I’m sure you’ll make lots of friends at this one.
I’m not sure about those odd things that happened last week. It was probably just a coincident. I wouldn’t worry about it too much. If anything does happen, write to me about it.
Don’t beat yourself up about your hair. Don’t listen to those silly kids. Your blue hair is beautiful how it is.
I have a week off from work in November. I’ll try to visit you if it’s okay with you and Michael. How is your brother anyway? He hasn’t been answering my letters!
Miss you,
Jessie
I read over Jessie’s lovely letter. It was shorter than usual, but I didn’t mind. I loved getting letters from Jessie. Yes, she could just text me, and she did, but she still sent me letters. Plus, she knew my track record with my phone working wasn’t great. Sure, my parents had gotten me the highest quality phone out there, but it still didn’t always work for me.
Jessie's letter also upset me. It reminded me of how the first day of school had gone. Blech.
I’ve never really had a lot of luck at schools. For several reasons mostly. One of them is that my family has a lot of cash. I don’t know why, but some people think that I’ll just be a spoiled brat since I’m rich. The main reason is actually my appearance. Sometimes people think I’ve just dyed my hair blue. Once they figure out that it’s actually naturally blue, they think I’m super weird.
I suppose that it’s not all that bad. I probably wouldn’t want to be friends with people who judge others with really knowing who they are. Still, it hurts. And it’s lonely.
Usually, they don’t find out I’m rich and naturally blue-haired until later in the school year, but not this time. Father recently made the news a lot for some huge invention. I don’t really get the big deal with technology and all those kinds of electricity things. I think I have really bad luck with them. They never work super well for me. Anyways, back to the school day.
I arrived at school at about half past seven. I had to be there at 7:55 after unpacking, so I figured I’d be alright with getting everything done on time to get to the meeting. I had walked the two miles to school because I was avoiding riding in the limousine with Michael, and claimed I wanted the exercise. My feet hurt, and my arm was sore from lugging around my bag and suitcase, but at least I didn’t stand out as a rich kid. Yes, this new school, Stuartworth Boarding Academy for Boys and Girls, was a very selective private school. You either have to pay loads of money and pass a test to get in or pass an extremely hard test to get in. I took the first option.
I entered through the gates, showing the guards the ID they sent me when I passed the test. This school was really fancy. The gate had this really intricate design, and the hedges along the walkway were neatly being trimmed by a gardener. There were flower beds and students everywhere.
I had already done all the registration with Mother a week before, so I didn’t have to get my schedule like most of the other students. They had to stand in a long line outside the administration office. I slipped through the line.
“Excuse me,” I said as I walked up to a tall freshman boy with wavy brown hair and a woman who was probably his mom. “Could I just get over to the other side please?”
The boy started to move out of the way, but his mom pulled on his arm. She was wearing a fancy business suit and way too much makeup. She glowered down at me with her blue-green eyes and scowling face.
“Just who do you think you are? Are you trying to jump in front of us in line? How rude! I hope that you realize poor people like you deserve to wait at the very end of the line!”
I bit my lip. I hate when people yelled at me. I felt awful.
“Uh, Mom?” the boy said a bit timidly. He tugged on her sleeve. “I think she just wants to get on the other side of the line. She’s already holding a schedule and map.”
The woman frowned at me. “Listen, kid. I don’t care how smart you had to be to get in here. You’re still poor right now. Poor people are a drain on everything. So just go around the line!”
I really don’t like arguing. At all. So I turned around and went around the line and headed to the Girl’s Dormitories.
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