The hallways of Westbridge High buzzed with excitement. The first day of school was always loud,students reuniting, teachers shouting directions, lockers slamming shut. The scent of new textbooks mixed with the lingering aroma of cafeteria pizza, and the air was filled with the sound of hurried footsteps and nervous chatter
Alice adjusted her backpack as she stepped inside, her heart pounding. Back home in Nigeria, school had always been familiar, easy. But here? Everything felt different. She glanced around, trying to find a familiar face, but there were none.
She passed a group of students laughing near their lockers, their conversations flowing effortlessly. She wished she could just slip in, blend in, but it wasn't that simple. Her accent, her background, even her clothes everything about her screamed 'new kid.
She sighed, gripping the earbuds in her pocket music was the only thing that made sense.
She exhaled sharply, pushing the nerves aside. You've handled harder things. This is just school.
A few steps away, Alex kept his head down, hands tucked into his hoodie. Back home in South Korea blending in was easy, but here, every glance felt like a spotlight. He hated how eyes followed him. He wasn't used to standing out, but here, he felt like an outsider.
He reached into his pocket, fingers brushing against his earphones. He wanted to put them in, drown out the noise, but he knew teachers wouldn't allow it.
"Excuse me, can you move?"
Alex blinked and stepped aside as a group of students rushed past. He let out a sigh. Just get through the day
Ella walked with confidence, her blonde hair swaying as she moved. If anyone looked at her, they wouldn't guess she was new. She made sure of that.
She had spent years perfecting her English back in Germany, practicing her accent so she wouldn't stand out. But the truth was, language was the easy part. Culture? That was something else entirely.
She glanced around, her sharp eyes taking in the school. Same cliques, same social rules, different country. She had no intention of getting lost in the crowd.
She spotted a cafeteria map pinned to a bulletin board and made a mental note of the exits. Always know your way out.
Jasmine stood near the lockers, flipping through his sketchbook. He had grown up surrounded by the art and music of Paris, but here in America, everything felt louder, faster. He wasn't sure if he liked it yet.
Art was his escape, the one thing that never changed no matter where he went. Back in France, he spent hours in cafes, sketching the world around him, letting the music of Paris fuel his creativity.
His fingers itched to play guitar, to let his emotions spill into music instead of drawings. But he had no idea if this school even had a music room, let alone a decent guitar.
With a sigh, he shut his sketchbook and adjusted the rings on his fingers. If nothing else, he would observe. That's what artists did.
Meanwhile, Felix leaned casually against a locker, watching the new students arrive. Another year, another wave of transfers. It was always the same,some kids tried too hard to fit in, others kept to themselves. But something about this group stood out. They didn't look like they belonged together, yet fate had brought them to the same place.
The girl with the backpack looked nervous but determined.
The hoodie guy looked like he'd rather be anywhere but here.
The blonde girl scanned the place like she was calculating something.
And the quiet one? The one with the sketchbook? He barely reacted to anything
Felix smirked. Interesting.
He wasn't sure why, but something told him this year would be different.