Sᴇᴘᴛᴇᴍʙᴇʀ 9. 2024
A Dodge Challenger Hellcat, sprayed in matte black, with midnight tinted glasses and neon blue rims contrasting against its clean, dark tyres, pulls into the school, revving like crazy. Not to show off, but Alexa just loves the damn car and how she modified it to her liking.
Of course she catches a lot of eyes because of the noise, and because no one has seen this vehicle in the school before. From all over the rich compound, dainty, narrowed eyes watch this newcomer, noses turned up. Some guys swoon at the beauty, chatting animatedly about the deep and healthy sound of the engine.
Whatever they're thinking, or saying, Alexa can careless. She enjoys her ride and does this often. It's like any other day to her as she drives slowly through the parking lot and comes to a stop between a Honda Civic and a Maserati Ghibli. The engine dies and she opens her door, snatching her loaded backpack from the passenger seat.
Everyone is watching, anticipating whom will be the driver of this Dodge Challenger that pulled in like they were filming the final movie of Fast and Furious.
The girl with only a sense of style for black, steps out in a booty shorts, Timberland combat boots and a sleeveless, turtle neck, crop top. Her piercings glisten in the morning light; a gold ring in her navel, a gold knob on her left nostril, a black industrial in her right ear, lined off with two gold knobs and a simple, black cross dangling from her left earlobe. Her entrance added to her appearance immediately puts her out there and she doesn't even know it.
She takes her first step around and away from her car, gold chain clinking loosely from the belt loops around her waist and her bleached, white shoulder-length waves bounces. She proceeds with her walk towards the opened modern, glass doors of her school and ends up being cat-called and chimed at multiple times, with her shapely, yet slender frame. If only she knows the agitation filling the hearts of others at the sight of her; 'Attention seeker, skank, thot, bet she's easy,' if only she knows.
Alessia...? She wouldn't give a rat's ass.
Her face is bear, except for some cherry lipgloss on her thin, pale lips and the piercing blue contacts she wears. A few light pimples are dotted across her cheeks and she has a natural smile on her face as she admires the large building, unbothered and taking in the interior as soon as she enters. Her eyes dance over the beige walls of the main hall, passing by tinted office doors and air-conditioned rooms, barely noticing her onlookers. She trudges along, fingers digging into the single strap of her bag nervously, as she tries to remember the number she was given.
"D169, D169..." She chants in a whisper, frowning when she finds 'A169', but not 'D'. 'That means there's a 'B' and a 'C' which should be upstairs, right?'
"Hi!"
Alexa stiffens, catching her reflex in time before she could smack the kid that pops out of fucking nowhere. She turns, standing at eye-level with a freckled face, frail-looking boy. She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. Why? He's not Phillip. He's not anyone she grew up with. She's not obligated to speak to anyone he—
"Uh, hello...?" He begins again, "...Y–you seem lost. I–I'm a hall monitor, so I... I can help... If you want...?"
Her gaze slips from his dark brownish-grey eyes and chipmunk nose, all the way down to his Air Max shoes and back up. She tilts her head in assessment. Should she reply? He seems harmless and most definitely breakable.
Hm, meh, could be an act.
Is it though?
She'll never know just by staring at him. Let's start by saying hi too.
"Hi," she breathes, then adds, "I am kind of lost."