• As I knelt by my locker on the second floor of our junior high school, I felt somebody start to play with my brown shoulder length hair. Amy.
    “Did you hear, Jess? There’s gonna be a transfer student starting today, I think his name is Ace or something. I think he’s in your homeroom too.” She was starting to braid my hair now.
    “Really?”
    Amy and I have been best friends for about 4 years now, or since 4th grade, whatever you prefer. When we moved to the city, I was so scared and begged my parents to let us stay in the small town that I grew up in, but when mom told me that it was for dads work, I let them drag me along. On my first day of 4th grade, even though it was late fall, was when I met Amy. We became best friends instantly. We did everything together, and we liked all the same things, well, almost. And now, 4 years later, we are still best friends, and I never want it to change.
    “Yeah! I hear that he’s kinda creepy, and cute. Hey, do you have an elastic?” she tugged my hair a bit, to let me know that my braid was done.
    “Um…I don’t think…wait, here” I took the red silk elastic off of my wrist and handed it to her. “Man Jess, what do you do with your hair, it’s so soft!”
    Now she was just playing with my hair. “Hey, I don’t do anything with it, now stop playing with it!”
    Now that I had all my books for my first few classes, and the fact that my legs were getting cramped, I stood up and closed my locker. I stood up and gave Amy my ‘stop playing with my hair or I’ll kill you’ look, and I saw a smile grow on her face, and we burst out laughing.
    “Now now girls, are we alright?” The principal walked up and looked at us with a smirk on his slightly round face.
    “Yes Mr. Jonson”
    “Good good. We wouldn’t want people to think that we were a mad house now, would we.” He pated our shoulders, and we said, in perfect harmony “But we already are sir!” and he smiled.
    “Sure. Now, you should get to homeroom, the bell should be ringing soon.” And he walked off, probably to stop the pushing down the hall. Most people in our school are smart and can get away with fighting, pushing, running, and so on without getting caught, but when people do, they have the principal to deal with.
    Since my homeroom was closest to our lockers, we went in and sat on the counter near the teacher’s desk, and dangled our feet over the edge.
    “So what class do we have first? I hope it’s not math, I hate Mrs. Almay”
    “No, it’s….LA first period, and then math” I showed her my schedule, since ours were the same, it didn’t matter. I saw her scowl at the paper, as she mumbled to herself. “That’s not any better, why do we have to have her as a teacher anyways.”
    DONG DONG DONG,
    She handed me back the paper, her scowl now gone.
    “Crap, the bell, see ya later then,” she hoped off the counter “oh, and tell me about the new kid, if he’s in your homeroom, k?”
    “Fine fine, see ya”
    Amy skipped out of the room, and I got off the counter as some more kids came into the room and took their seats. As I took my seat in the second row, I saw Mrs. Jones talking to a boy in the hallway. As my eyes skimmed his cloths, a dark blue hoody and baggy black jeans, I knew it was the new kid, for in my life I had never seen a person in our school, or any ware for that matter, with such black hair. Hair as black as midnight.