*In Need Of A Title* ~In Writing~ ♀Part 1 up!♀

You're welcome.

I'll think about it, thanks.

It's good. I have an idea for the name-Out of the Gray

Maturity: Love: The whole she-bang. Gore & Violence: Pretty much the whole she-bang.
Fantasy: None...I think.

Part 1

I sighed as I stepped out for the last time out of these gray walls. I live in Vancouver, British Columbia. In my high school, everything is gray. The text books, the walls, the posters, the uniforms (which no one wears), even Mr. Miklos’ hair. The only thing that isn’t gray is the students, who dress in odd colors to push the grayness away. I was leaving Vancouver High (Van-High) forever. To go to Westbury. I had discovered this wonderful high school from my brother’s ex-girl-friend, Natasha. She had gone there when she was my age. Actually, she had gone there when she was a freshman. I’m a sophomore. I stepped into my Dad’s Mazda 3 and tossed my bag into the backseat with the rest of my belongings that I was bringing.
“I’m not sure about this, Holly.” Dad said, biting his lip nervously. “You’re so far away.” He looked at the map that was plastered where the radio controls were, which showed that Westbury was all the way in the middle of Washington.
“Its fine, Dad.” I said for the umpteenth time. “There’s like, two or three parent weekends.” I checked the flyer Natasha had given me, and I was right. There were 3 weekends when our parents came to visit. Dad sighed.
“Okay then.” He agreed, shaking his head.

~*~

After what seemed like an eternity, we finally arrived. My heart jumped to my throat as we pulled up. I had seen the picture of the school on the flyer, but to actually see it was….exciting. It was huge, like a university. I checked my letter from Westbury. I was to put my belongings in the dorm Bradwell.
Well, I guess I'm meeting my roommate.
I took a deep breath and stepped inside this luxury high school. I gaped at the wonderfulness of it all.
“Wow.” I whispered, amazed. I tore open the flyer and quickly took out the map. I followed it to Bradwell. I checked the letter. Okay. It was the sixth dorm on the left. I counted the dorms until the sixth one, and opened the door. There was a girl at a desk. She was using a computer. She heard the door open and spotted me. Her face broke into the biggest smile I’ve ever seen.
“You must be Holly!” She said joyfully. “I’m Veronica. I’m your new roommate!” Then she started to babble about what she’d done in her single, and how happy she was that now she had a roommate. I tuned out from her chattering and thought that we could never be friends. I would throw her out the window eventually. I checked the designer clock on the wall and saw that I had to leave. Now.
“Well, bye.” I said quickly, darting out of the room. I weaved in and out through doors, and when I was close, I bumped into a guy. My wallet fell out of the pocket of my jacket. I bent down to get it but the guy picked it up before me. He looked up, and rose slowly. He opened my wallet.
“Holly Pruden.” He stated my name. I was thrown away by his voice; it sounded nothing like I thought it would, based on his appearance. It was….sexy. “I’m Diego Oregon.” He held out a hand. I reached out to shake it when a football came flying towards my head.
“Whoa!” I shouted, catching it right before it ruined my face.
“Sorry!” A boyish voice called. I removed the football from my eyesight and saw another guy. I punted it towards him, and turned back to Diego. But he wasn’t there. I shrugged and continued to the office. I knocked politely on the door and it swung open.
“Come in.” A woman’s voice said. She was sitting at a desk that was very neatly arranged. I noticed a plaque on her desk that read ‘Mrs. Longbottom.’ I almost laughed at the name. I sat down in a chair opposite from her. There was a silence. She picked up a paper and looked down at it.
“Hi.” I said finally. I swallowed the lob of spit that had welled up in my throat.
“Holly Pruden, sophomore, from Vancouver, British Columbia. So, you’re a scholarship student?” She asked, looking up at me from behind her glasses.
“Yes.” I said nervously.
“Well, you will have to work extra hard to keep up with the other students. We’re already halfway into the semester, so it will be difficult.”
My mouth almost dropped open. No ‘you should be able to catch up,’ or ‘I’m sure you can catch up,’ or ‘Good luck?’
“Good luck.” She finished. The you’ll need it was implied. Well, at least she said ‘Good luck.’