Furry Humans

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6.

Doing what you like is freedom.


ABIGAIL

The halls were silent besides the sound of my sneakers squeaking on the tile floor, with my schedule in my hand, I continued my search for my first class which was taking a while. I somehow got lost in the maze of halls, turning down one hall that lead to another, I came to a place I’ve been before a few times along with others I haven’t and looked totally different.

My mind, on its own, drifted back to the boy, his eyes were forever embarked in my head; it still lefts its effect on me, the breathlessness and my pulse beating out of control in my veins.

And as if my earlier prayers were answered I finally reach my first-period class. I look through the small glass window on the door to see a man-the teacher- standing in front of rows of desks filled with students, his loud and firm voice could be heard from outside of the door as he spoke and lectured.

I looked around the unfamiliar faces and my nerves grew and flooded my veins as reality began to sink in that I was really starting school with people I didn’t know. I was kind of hoping that Dylan would have a class with me being he’s the only person I’ve talked to, a little familiarity won’t hurt anyone.

I glanced over at the plate beside the door that read the name and room number.

Biology, Mr. Newman | 406

Heaving a sigh, I gently place my hand on the handle, opening the door. All eyes were on me in an instant, the same reaction happening the moment I stepped foot on the property, some people tilted their heads a bit their nostrils flaring others just plain. . stared. I strode further into the room, turning away from the row of students and to the teacher who was intensively gazing at me.

I cleared my throat, “Hi, uh- I’m Abigail.” I handed him my schedule and another piece of paper which had the information from my last school and me transferring here.

I watched him slide on small reading glasses.

The silence was starting bothering, a pen drop could be heard with how quiet it was. The heat of the class’s gazes on my skin burned, it felt like fire was crawling and burning every part of skin that was exposed for them to see. I felt like a showcase of food to a pack of wolves that were waiting for their time to strike.

I snuck a glance over my shoulder when the sound of whispering reached my ears, a handful of students were leaned into each other and speaking quietly.

“Well, Welcome to Crystal High,” the teacher suddenly speaks up, causing me to whip my gaze back to him.

He looks up from the paper. “You can call me Mr. Newman and I’ll be your biology teacher for the rest of the year.” he smiles briefly before handing me back my schedule and turning me around to the front.

“I’ll like to introduce a new student,” he announced, his big hands clamping down on my shoulders.

My eyes shoot from face to face, watching as interest crosses every single face, people who were slouching, sat up straight staring at me as if they already weren’t and slowly every lair of eye in the class was focused on me. The ones in to front row seemed to lean forward a bit, too close, causing me to step back a little into the teacher with a frown.

What’s up with everyone sniffing today! Do I stink?′ I think, resisting the urge to sniff myself.

“Her name’s Abigail and I want everyone to treat her like she belongs. No funny business,” he warns, voice growing deeper.

My eye twitches at the double meaning behind his words, yet again not understanding the adults in this school, I force a small smile when he walks around to my side one hand still on my shoulder.

“Would you like to say another about yourself?” he asks, glancing at me.

“No, thank you,” I say quickly and quietly.

He nods and goes to point to an empty seat in the far corner, “That’ll be your seat next to Samantha- Samantha raises your hand, please.”

A girl, Samantha, raises her hand from the seat beside the one I’ve been assigned to, located a bit in the middle to far to the left. I nod and adjust my bookbag on my shoulder as I make my way over to my new seat. The room was angled to where the seats were at an obtuse angle, steps being provided as I walk up to my seat.

I sigh heavily, sliding into my chair, the teacher finally going back to teacher when I was settled and bringing three forth of the students attention back to the lesson. Slouching, I look out the window I was seated next to and try to collect myself a bit.

“Hello, there.”

I jerk in place, whipping around to face the girl- Samantha- in the seat beside me, almost forgetting she was there. I relax a bit.

“Hi,” I reply back, quietly.

She smiles, showing all her perfectly straight teeth. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to fully introduce myself; I’m Samantha Jones but people call me Sam for short,” she says, reaching over and holding her hand out.

I look at her hand then her face before fully clasping my hand in hers giving it a shake then releasing it.

“Abigail but you can call me Abby if you want,” I tell her, taking out a spare notebook and pencils.

Her head bobs in acknowledgement while she gazes back up to the front where Mr. Newman stood by the board, marker in hand, writing down words while spluttering on about cells and genes.

“So what do you think of the school so far?”

I shrug, my pencil scribbling across my paper as I take in notes. “It’s okay, still trying to get used to everything around me. It’s all so new, still.”

She makes a noise of understanding. “I hear you, my family and I moved from Florida not too long ago.”

My eyebrows shot up, “Oh really? And why’s that? I mean Florida is great compared to the cold climates here.” I tell her.

“My father wanted us to come back to his hometown and help his mom.”

My eyes snapped to the wall phone as it begins to ring, catching the attention of a few students, some of us watch the teacher pick it up, he muttered a few words and his eyes snap to mine before he looks away and begins to talk.

“In all honesty, I didn’t want to leave. To me, it felt like I was leaving a piece of myself behind.” Samantha explained, her voice soft.

“I couldn’t agree with you more,” I mutter.

A certain someone popping into my head for a split second.


“I’ll see you at lunch, okay?”

I nod, waving as she blends in with the cried if students. I turn down my own path and begin walking, squeezing past shoulders and book bags, I kept close to the walls and lockers where not many people strided along- keeping out of the way. I look down at my schedule, searching for my next class as I look back between the paper and classrooms as I walk past, this diverted my attention from in front of me cause my shoulder to collide with someone else’s.

“Watch it!” the person hisses.

“Sorry,” I mumble, nodding my head, heading on my way.

“That’s not a good enough apology. I could have fallen on my äss!” the person, a girl, by the tone of her voice, continues.

’What in the. . .′

I glance over my shoulder, meeting gazes with a red-faced brunette, her green eyes piercing furiously into my brown ones. As if being slapped in the face, she reeled back a bit, taking in my features with her intense gaze. I notice the hall was a bit quieter than it original was.

“Well if it isn’t the new girl,” she smirks.

I nod my head, shrugging while pushing my hair behind my ear. “Yeah. That would be me.”

Her smirks widen, I then notice her outfit, a tight color white crop top that showed a bit of skin, a dark blue skirt that barely reached past her butt with jewelry to match her outfit and two-inch heels. With the temperature dropping I would think that people would start dressing according to the weather, but her outfit said otherwise.

“Well, my name is Courtney and I’ll get straight to the point,” she flips her hair over her shoulder staring me in my eyes. “Make sure to watch yourself next time, or I won’t be as nice as I am right now. You’re lucky you caught me in a good mood today,” she claimed.

Rolling my eyes, I fold my schedule, tapping the paper against my thigh while hiking up my bookbag further up my shoulder.

“Is that all? I kinda have a class to catch and I don’t want to be late with the reason of a girl being mad she almost fell for not wearing the right type of shoes,” I drawl out, briefly looking around me, pointing out a clock on the wall to the far right.

I took her silence as an answer and turn on the heels of my feet, walking away, as the teens who watched the interaction parted and made way for me.

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