Deborah sat perched on the edge of her bed, the scent of lavender air freshener a stark contrast to the melancholy that clung to her. Her aunt had remarked on how quickly she'd made the room her own – a sanctuary, she'd called it. Fresh pink and white sheets adorned the bed, and a framed photograph of her old school, held pride of place on the nightstand. Everything was meticulously ordered, a testament to Efua's relentless need for control.
She opened her diary, the leather cover cool against her fingertips. "Dear Diary," she began, the pen scratching across the page. "It's been years since I've written. I thought I'd outgrown you. I suppose I should be glad." A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "I'm here, but nothing can compare to my school. I can't believe how much I miss everything and everyone, even Josephine." A pang of guilt washed over her. Josephine, her closest friend, had been so understanding when Deborah had to leave.
"I'm going to get in touch with Hene and write a letter of apology to the Principal," she continued, her resolve wavering. "I'll try to be happy here." The words tasted like ashes in her mouth. "It's stupid really, moping and feeling sorry for oneself."
Deborah, the new girl, had arrived at her new school shrouded in a cloak of indifference. Whispers followed her like a shadow. "Deborah Lain, the new girl," they'd murmur. "She's certainly a chick in the boy's eyes," some would comment, while others whispered about her surprising academic prowess.
Deborah, however, remained aloof. She walked the corridors with an air of disdain, her nose perpetually in a book, her expression a mask of icy detachment. The students, quick to label, had christened her "The Witch." "She thinks she's better than everyone else," they hissed. "There's nothing special about her, though."
Caleb, a popular and charismatic boy, found himself inexplicably drawn to this enigmatic new student. He admired her quiet intensity, the way her eyes, the color of stormy seas, seemed to hold a thousand unspoken words. He yearned to break through her icy exterior, to coax a smile from those lips.
"Hi," he'd greeted her one day after assembly, a casual attempt at friendliness.
She hadn't responded.
"Hey, it's polite to answer a greeting," he'd persisted, his smile faltering.
She finally turned, her gaze glacial. "I believe I know what is polite and not, and I answer who I want to answer to," she'd retorted, her voice icy.
Caleb stared after her, bewildered. People were right, she was nasty! How could she talk to him like that? Did she know who he was?
In physics class, Ms. Emma, a jovial teacher with a penchant for corny jokes, launched into a discussion on momentum. "Can we cast our minds back to the principle of conservation of linear momentum?" she'd inquired. "What is momentum, by the way?"
The class fell silent.
"What? You mean to tell me you have no momentum?" Ms. Emma chuckled, enjoying her own joke. "Caleb Michael, can you help us out?"
Caleb, eager to impress, shot up. "Momentum is the product of a mass of a body and velocity, and momentum changes as it goes down a slope," he declared, his voice confident.
"Very good!" Ms. Emma praised, writing a problem on the blackboard and handing the chalk to Caleb. "Calculate this."
Caleb, with a flourish, solved the problem, earning a round of laughter from the class, including Ms. Emma. Only Deborah remained unamused. What was so amusing? she wondered. He was just a pompous show-off.
George, a flamboyant art student with a penchant for wearing chains and mismatched sneakers, decided to try his luck with Deborah. He sauntered past her outside the classroom, whistling a jaunty tune. "Hi," he grinned, flashing a set of very white teeth.
Deborah barely acknowledged him, muttering something indistinguishable.
"Yeah, I'm George, funny name isn't it? You, you're fine! Could we be friends?" he persisted, his grin widening.
She remained silent, hoping he would simply go away.
George, a little taken aback by her icy reception, continued, "You look like someone I knew during my holidays in America, but… but she died."
"Sorry to hear that," Deborah mumbled, wishing she could disappear.
"Please excuse me," she added quickly.
"Where are you going?" George persisted, undeterred.
"To the guidance counselor's office," she replied, immediately regretting her words.
"I'll walk you. It's not necessary," he offered.
"You need guidance, I'll guide you," he declared, his laughter echoing down the corridor.
Deborah had finally reached her limit. "Excuse me, I'd rather walk alone," she said firmly.
"Hey," George called out, grabbing her hand.
Deborah whipped her hand away, her eyes blazing. "Get lost!" she shouted.
"Excuse me?" George retorted, taken aback by her sudden outburst.
"You heard me!" she repeated, her voice trembling with anger.
They stared at each other, the air thick with tension. Deborah was breathing heavily, her face flushed. George, feeling foolish, turned away, then turned back, then turned away again.
"I'll deal with you," he snarled, walking off.
Mary, Deborah's new friend, caught up with her after school. "I heard what happened today between you and George," she said, her voice laced with concern. "Did you really tell him to get lost?"
Deborah sighed. "He was pestering me, he grabbed my hand."
"What did he want?" Mary inquired.
"You know, what they all want," Deborah replied, her voice weary.
"Oh dear," Mary sighed. "Deborah, honey, boys like George, they are mean and can get very unpleasant. I don't want to become the subject of spiteful gossip and mean tricks."
"I don't care," Deborah insisted. "Mary, you're a sweetheart to worry about me, but I'll be fine."
As they walked, they passed Caleb and Nora, who were deep in conversation. Nora was whispering furiously, her voice a low hiss. Mary, who found it difficult to dislike anyone, considered Nora one of the most unpleasant people she knew.
"There he goes again," Mary muttered to herself. Then, turning to Deborah, she added, "Caleb also told me you are sort of nasty to him." She felt compelled to add, "You know, Deborah, as a Christian…"
"I wish everybody would just leave me alone!" Deborah interrupted, her frustration evident. "I'm here to mind my own business and read my books."
Mary patted her friend's braids sympathetically. Perhaps, she decided, this wasn't the best time to have a theological discussion.
"Caleb, what's the matter?" Nora was saying. "What do you mean?"
"You know," he replied, his voice hesitant. "You've been acting differently, like you don't know me."
Nora narrowed her almond-shaped eyes. "You've not changed, have you? Remember that girl from the Peter Mary debating team last term?"
"I like that!" Caleb retorted, backing away. "Remember that university student?"
"Don't change the subject!" Nora insisted.
Just then, Mary and Deborah walked past. Caleb's gaze followed them.
"Oh, they were right!" Nora exclaimed. "It's her now, isn't it?"
Caleb turned to face her. "What?"
"You're horrible, Caleb!" Nora declared, her voice dripping with venom. "A disgusting, hateful person. You think you're the best thing in the world, don't you? Well, I'll show you."
She stormed off, leaving Caleb bewildered. Girls! Who knew with them? He shook his head and jogged off to the field where some of the boys were playing football.
"What took you so long?" Steve asked.
"Nothing," Caleb replied, kicking the football with such force that it soared high into the sky.
As Deborah settled back into her bed, the diary forgotten in her lap, she couldn't help but wonder if she was truly the "Witch" everyone made her out to be. Or was it simply that she was a stranger in a strange land, struggling to find her place, her voice, in this unfamiliar world?
The nanny at the School frowned as Mary Jayden arrived to pick up her younger brother. Mary was known for her good behavior, praised by teachers, church members, and everyone else. Yet, she often found herself critiquing her reflection, wishing she were prettier, feeling like "plain Jane."
Later that evening, Deborah visited while Mary helped her mother in the kitchen. As night fell, Mary subtly tried to draw Deborah's attention towards Caleb. However, she immediately regretted her actions. While she wanted them to be friends, a deeper feeling stirred within her, one she couldn't quite define. She quickly dismissed the unsettling thought.