Paige Harbison - New Girl

Instead, my phone sat in some lockbox downstairs, and I tried to arrange my things neatly and accessibly in my boxes and suitcases. After that quick task, I lay down in my new bed and tried to ignore the bright blue eyes staring down at me from almost every picture. I picked up the first Harry Potter book in an effort to get excited about boarding school again, and waited quietly in my bed for Madison and Julia to fetch me for the party that would begin it all.

One year ago

“I MEAN, CAN YOU BELIEVE THEY SENT ME HERE?” Becca sat, legs and arms crossed, in the backseat, complaining to the taxi driver she wasn’t even sure spoke English. He nodded every now and again, but that was about it. She didn’t even care, she was venting. “And you know why?”

The driver made eye contact with her in the rearview mirror.

Becca leaned forward. “Because I can’t ‘keep my grades up.’ They think that’ll be easier here? All of these kids probably study nonstop . They’re probably all supersmart.” She sat back again, with a disgruntled noise. “I mean that’s not the only reason they made me come. I just … I hate both of my parents. My mom used to be okay, but now she just does whatever my dad says.”

Nod from the driver.

“Yeah, it sucks . They don’t know how to handle me so therefore they—what—ship me off? That is fantastic parenting.” She was silent for a moment before another thought struck her. “This is their fault anyway. Isn’t it all about the parenting? Isn’t the ‘troubled teenager’ thing just the lashing out of an ignored or neglected child?”

Nod.

“ Exactly . See, even you understand it.” She sighed as they pulled up to Manderley. “But I don’t know. Maybe this will be better.”

The taxi stopped by all the others along the very long entryway road, and the driver got out to remove her suitcases and boxes.

“Lot of stuff,” he remarked with a smile when Becca clicked over in her high-heeled boots to join him at the back of the van.

“Yes, because this is my last two freaking years of high school, and they don’t even want me at home. So I just brought all of it with me.”

Nod. “Pay.” He held out a hand.

“Ah.” She dug into her purse. “You do accept cards, right? Cards? ” She held one up when he clearly didn’t know what she was saying.

Nod.

She looked down at her things, and then at the sidewalk, which was another six or seven feet. Becca smiled and looked at the driver. “Could you be a sweetheart and move them up there for me? Please?”

He cleared his throat and then did as she asked. When he came back, she handed him her credit card and waited. He brought back a receipt. She signed it, putting twenty dollars on the tip line. The next minute, he was back in the car and driving off.

For the briefest of moments, she felt weird watching him go. She was alone. This was her first year at a brand-new school, and she knew no one. Even that driver, whatever his unpronounceable, all consonant name was, had felt like company on the ride from the airport.

“Miss?”

Some guy with a cart startled her. “Jesus, what?”

“I can take your things and deliver them to your room.”

“Okay, it’s all right there.” She pointed.

“Student ID number and room number?”

She screwed up her face. “I have no clue.”

“It should have come in the mail with your roommate’s name and your rule book.”

She shrugged.

He looked down at his pad of paper. “Okay, just give me your name, then.”

“Rebecca Normandy.”

“You don’t know any of your information?”

“No.”

He clicked the side of his walkie-talkie, and it bleeped. “Hey, Bill?”

A few seconds passed before “Bill” answered. “Yeah.”

“Can you look up a student’s information for me?”

Another couple of seconds. “Go ahead.”

“Rebecca … Normandy.” He spelled her last name, and then wrote down what Bill’s muffled voice reported.

She was getting impatient, and then had a terrible moment where she realized she wasn’t eager to get anywhere.

“And how many items?”

Becca looked at him for a moment. He was looking right at them, did she really need to tell him? She glanced meaningfully down at them and then back to him.

He took a deep breath and counted, then handed her a ticket he’d recorded it on. “Okay, hang on to this. On the back I wrote down your room number and student ID number. You’ll need those to get your key up there at the cell phone drop.”

She froze. “ So sorry, the what? ”

He gave her a look. “Didn’t read any of the info, huh?”

“Uh-uh. Did you say cell phone drop? ”

“They’ll tell you the hours you can check it back out.”

Becca sighed and followed the rest of the students up to the line that ended at a window. It was way too long to wait in. She went up to the next person in line. Luckily, it was a guy.

“Hi, I’m new here, and I’m so sorry to ask this, but do you mind if I just drop off my cell real fast? I wouldn’t ask, but I’m just feeling so sick from the ride up here.”

He nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

“Thank you so much,” she cooed. She looked apologetically at everyone else in the line. “Sorry!”

They all looked forgiving. She stepped into the line and then up to the window.

“Rebecca Normandy.”

The boy behind the window was skinny and unattractive. He was the type that needed to learn that big shirts only make you look smaller.

“Freshman?”

She looked askance at him. Did she look like a freshman? “Um, no? Junior.”

“Fill out the card.” She did, using the information from the janitor guy, and then slid it back to him.

“Here’s your key and information packet,” the boy said.

“Okay, and where are the girls’ dorms?”

He pointed. She smiled at him and then again at the boy who’d let her cut in front of him.

As she turned to walk away, she saw that almost everyone in the hall was looking at her. She couldn’t help but love it.

But what a lot of average-looking people , she thought.

She had nothing to lose now that she was at Manderley. She might as well choose to be a hit while she was still here. She could be remembered when she did finally leave. But for a better reason than last time she left a school. There wasn’t exactly a plaque hanging up at Waterford High School.

The following eyes continued the entire way up to her room. When she finally got there, the door was open. There was a dark-haired girl sitting on one of the beds, and the other side of the room was empty.

“I’m Rebecca. Call me Becca if you want,” she said, making brief eye contact before looking around and taking in the entirely dreary room. The floor was a flat and ugly all-colors carpet, the walls were dingy white, and the bed looked like one you’d see in a dollhouse, i.e., not one for sleeping .

“I’m Dana Veers.” Even she sounded bored with herself.

“This room is horrible,” Becca said, and walked moodily to the empty side.

“It’s ridiculous. I hate it. I’ve been here two years, and I feel like the walls are slowly moving in every day.”

Becca looked at her new roommate for the first time. She was thin and pale, but was very pretty.

“Rocking the vampire look, I see.” Becca started to unbutton her coat.

“That means a lot coming from you, Barbie.”

Becca froze, and then started to laugh. She could see that her reaction surprised Dana.