Mikaelas fist page: Nothing Of What It Seems

Nothing of What it Seems 


I wearly shuffled into math class 1st period to find my seat had been changed. The class, roughly 25 students was a mixture of the populars, most importantly Abbey McAdams, nerds and people like me; in the middle with average grades and average friends. “Sydney Morrison” read the card on my new desk in the far right corner and “Emily Ferris”, the card next to me. I felt bad but I honestly didn’t know who she was. I looked over at Abbey who at this hour of the morning, managed to look like a princess; her hair and makeup perfect and her outfit all designer and put together. She sat there as if there was a pole down her back, attentive and ready to learn. With the clock ticking at the pace of a snail giving us 20 minutes left of our period, paper airplanes and spitballs roamed the classroom with Ms. Jansons voice squeaking in the background. I looked over at my paper to actually start taking the notes and noticed a girl next to me that I guessed was the estranged Emily Ferris. She had been invisibly ghost like since the beginning of the period. Dead silent, eyes glued to the floor Emily sat there looking like she had borrowed clothes from a homeless person. I stared at her in awe wondering how her mother let her out of the house looking like that. She looked up catching me staring and immediately looked down again. What the fuck is wrong with her, I thought to myself, no makeup, messy hair; she looks like shit. My chair was immediately scooted over out of disgust.


The bell echoed through the halls of Milton High. Faculty and Staff directed students into the auditorium. It was crowded and dim and no one student actually wanted to be there. They finally got all of us to shut up so they could tell us about things that didn’t even interest us the slightest bit. Once they started talking though, there was chatter that couldn't be stopped. Tetris was the only thing that got me through the first half. “And now we as a faculty, proudly call up the McAdams to our lovely stage!” announced our principal. The four members of the McAdams walked down the aisle as if it was the Red Carpet at the Grammys. Kyle first, then his wife Susan followed by their two children Cole and Abbey. They got on stage and the auditorium went from a zoo of noise to like we were all bird watching. They stood as a family looking like they were posing for a picture, all beautifully dressed and good-looking. Abbey’s luscious blonde hair drapped down her shoulders like a waterfall and Cole looked more handsome than ever with the lights shining on him. His beautiful muscular build shown greatly as a result of all his All Star and Varsity sports. Kyle, thirty-five years of age didn’t look a day over twenty-five and the only words to describe Susan were a motherly goddess. "From our donations and fundraising done by us and others of the community, mainly at our very own McAdams Sports Center of Milton we were able to raise over $5,000 in contribution to east Garden of Milton High! We hope you all as a class can enjoy and prosper from this money.” Susan said, her voice soft and gentle but at the same time dominating and fierce. The garden was this huge plot of land on our school property that used to be dried dirt with weeds scattered about. In the beginning of that year the mentally disabled students got a new teacher with a green thumb. She helped them to create a garden on the land. It was a slow process, but it was beginning to come together nicely. All they needed was some more money for supplies and plants. The group of mentally disabled students receiving the money sat on stage looking up at the McAdams like they were a family of greek Gods. Susan, gracefully smiling, handed one of the seniors the check. Everyone in the auditorium was quiet and then suddenly burst into applause. It felt like a presidential inauguration. My friend Claire looked over at me “Gosh,” she exclaimed, “I want to be like Susan McAdams and have a family exactly like that when I get older.” I could understand where she was coming from. The family seemed perfect; from looking at them they looked out of a magazine and when you talked to them, woah, that was a whole different experience. Always having something fun and exciting to talk about with parents and kids. My mom had become friends with Susan through cooking class and she hadn’t a negative thing to say about her or their family. The bell interrupted the presidential vibe of the air and everyone filed out for lunch.