I was greeted by the steady beeping of my alarm clock and sunlight gleaming through the window as soon as I woke up. I squinted, not appreciating the brightness so early in the morning. I quickly shut my alarm off before snuggling back in my covers.

After a moment, I quickly sat up, realizing the date and my plans for the day. It was the last day of August, a Monday. It was also my first ever day of public school.

I had been homeschooled my entire life because my parents didn't want me to get bullied for my unique eyesight. I was something called a tetrachromat, meaning I see many more colors than the typical person. It was pretty rare, so I guess my parents didn't know what to expect.

Anyway, I was about to go to school for the first time. I jumped out of bed and quickly straightened out my bed. Absolutely everything in my bedroom was white, because that was one of the only colors that wasn't obnoxious for my eyes. So, my comforter, pillow cases, carpet, walls, bed frame, dresser, curtains, and even my door and window frame were pure white. Well, that is how they appeared to most people. To me, my room was absolutely filled with colors, but it was bearable because they were all very pale pastel shades.

After making my bed, I skipped to my closet and chose an outfit. When I was about fourteen, I did my research on what outfits looked good together, because in my eyes almost nothing worked. That was when I established my love for colored skinny jeans. I chose a pair of simple black jeans and a black and white striped tank top. I also grabbed a pair of Birkenstocks.

After dressing myself, I did my hair. I brushed out my long black strands before scraping them back into a braid. I added a royal blue bandana, which served as a headband. Blue was one of my favorite accent colors, because it brought out my eyes and matched with almost anything to both my eyes and others'.

I checked myself a final time in the mirror hanging on my door. Then, I merrily made my way downstairs to the kitchen, where my lovely mother was preparing breakfast.

My mother was also a tetrachromat, but she didn't experience the effects as strongly as I did. My mother didn't really use her abilities when she was younger, causing them to fade. On the contrary, I was always dealing with color as a little kid. I loved art, and my favorite form was painting. Even at the ripe age of three, I was finger-painting animals and foods almost everyday.

"Hey, Ma. Are you making breakfast?"

She whirled around to face me, still holding a spatula. She nodded.

"Blueberry pancakes. Is that good?"

I smiled. "My favorite. Thanks!"

I seated myself at the breakfast bar, which fit in with the modern theme of our house perfectly. My parents sympathized with me by making the color palette of our house consist of only neutral colors.

A couple minutes and several pancake flips later, my mother set a plate of towering blueberry pancakes, absolutely drenched in maple syrup and butter, before me. I grinned before digging in.

I moaned. "These are great, Ma. Are you going to have some?"

She shook her head. "I'll just pick something up on the way to my meeting. I don't want to make you late."

I glanced at the clock, realizing that I wouldn't be able to savor my breakfast. I downed a few more bites before pausing.

"So, what will I have to do? I probably need to go to the office first, right?"

"Yep. I emailed the principal. She told me that she has everything planned out for you."

"Alright."

I finished my wonderful pancakes in a matter of minutes. I rushed up to my bedroom to brush my teeth in my ensuite bathroom. I checked my appearance one final time.

I was graced with quite the sight. My dark hair was tinged with blues and purples even more so than usual because of my bandana. I caught a glance of my face and recoiled. To me, skin was one of the worst things I could look at. I could see each of my imperfections magnified, and I hated it. Any pimples I ever had were an angry red, my under eye bags were a greyish blue, and my Irish freckles were stark against my Caucasian skin. My aunts and female cousins always fretted, telling me I was gorgeous, but no matter how much they repeated it I just couldn't believe it. How could I when I was being deceived by my own eyes?

I trudged back downstairs, my mood dampened by my reflection. My mother's expression lit up as I reappeared in the kitchen, and we headed for the door. The night before, I had placed my brand new school bag right beside the door so I wouldn't forget. It was a plain black backpack from JanSport. I draped it over my shoulders and followed my mother outside.

My mother unlocked the door to the garage and we headed inside. I sat down in the steel grey Mercedes G-wagon, the newest of its model. We had been sent the car by a fleet of scientists hoping for an interview to assist with their research. My parents gladly agreed.

I sunk into the plush interior and sighed happily. I shut my eyes as my mother started the car and we began the trip to Pensacola High School.

In what seemed like seconds, we arrived at the school. It seemed pretty mediocre from its outward appearance. It was made of burnt red bricks, and looked to be two stories tall. The parking lot was filled to the brim with cars, mostly Toyotas and Volkswagens.

My mother pulled up to the sidewalk and slowed the car to a stop. I opened the door and fled the car. I looked back at my mother and grinned.

"Have a good day, sweetie. I'll see you at three o'clock, same place, alright?"

"Got it. Bye, Ma."

I clasped the straps of my backpack and marched confidently to the front doors. I opened them up and charged inside, immediately feeling about the size of an ant.

I glanced around frantically. Teenagers of a large variety of colors rushed down the halls. Neon posters graced the walls. The lockers were an alternating pattern of the school colors, teal and yellow. My brain had a hard time processing everything.

I looked around for signs to direct me, but came out with nothing. I took a deep breath and surged into the sea of teenagers. I boldly tapped the shoulder of the nicest peer I saw.

They looked over their shoulder, deep brown eyes locking on to me. It was a guy, and he towered over me. His attire consisted of black Vans, black jeans, an olive green tee shirt, and a thin gold necklace. Suddenly, I was doubting if he really was the nicest peer around me.

He brushed his hand through his dark brown hair and raised one eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Um, I'm new here, and I was wondering if you could show me to the office. My name is Veronica, by the way."

His harsh expression melted and he smiled, revealing his bright white teeth. "Oh, sure. My name is Hayden. Follow me."

Hayden started walking through the crowd, creating a small path for me to follow. Pretty quickly, I found myself right beside the entrance to the office.

I let out a sigh of relief before turning to Hayden and smiling appreciatively.

"Thank you so, so much. I never could have made it without you."

He smiled. "I'm sure you could have. It isn't that far from the entrance. I bet you could have gotten here yourself."

I stared at the floor, almost embarrassed. "I'm not so sure. I have this rare condition - it's difficult to explain, maybe I'll tell you some time."

Hayden's dark eyes widened with both confusion and realization, a strange combination. "Do you have a phone?" he asked me.

I nodded, not seeing what he was getting at.

He fumbled with his bag, before his hand emerged with a blue marker. He held out his right hand, and I hesitantly put mine into his grasp.

Hayden scribbled something on the back of my hand. I glanced at it, hating the way the blues in the pigment drew out my veins.

Eventually, he released my hand. "Call me sometime, Veronica." Then, he rushed off, continuing with his day.

I stared at my hand, flustered. With messy, left-handed penmanship, Hayden had written both his name - Hayden Davis - and his phone number. I tucked my right hand into my back pocket and opened the door with my left one, the unmarked one.

I saw the secretary smacking the keys on her keyboard. I slowly walked closer, and cleared my throat. She glanced up at me with pursed lips.

"What?" she said.

"Hi, I'm the new student, Veronica Grey. My mother informed me that the principal had plans for me."

"Oh, you're the one that has caused all of the ruckus."

I forced a smile. "Yeah, that's usually me."

"Well, the principal is in her office, straight back there. She has your schedule, as well as a lot of information for you."

"Oh, alright. Have a nice day."

"Sure."

I sped to the door the secretary mentioned, glad to be done with that conversation. So far, the cliches I had heard were true. I got lost on the first day, was bombarded by tons of uncaring teens before being saved by a ruggedly handsome guy, and had an unpleasant conversation with the nasty secretary.

I pushed into the principal's office, hoping my day lived up to my expectations.

"Oh, hello there! You must be Miss Grey, am I correct?"

A tall, thin woman stood from her seat behind her desk. She had auburn hair with streaks of grey, and it was slicked into a bun. Thin metal glasses covered her grey eyes. A pretty smile graced her thin lips.

I nodded. "Yes, that's me. My mother said you had stuff for me."

"Yep!" She rummaged around on her desk, before grasping a few papers. "Here is your schedule, sweetie."

I took the paper from her, sending her a grateful smile. I quickly scanned the schedule and noticed that most of my classes were advanced. Perfect.

In case you were wondering, no, that wasn't sarcasm. I absolutely loved learning and adored being challenged. My mother had taught me well.

"Well, my name is Sandra Walker, and I prefer to be addressed as Ms. Walker."

I nodded. "Nice to meet you, Ms. Walker."

"So, I've found a couple of students that share similar classes with you. They've each been informed of your...condition, and have freely volunteered to assist you throughout your time here at Pensacola High School. In fact, one of them should be here any minute. But, if you ever have any trouble, feel free to come here. You seem to know the way." She winked.

I blushed. "Oh, actually, some student helped me. Hayden - " I paused and glanced at my hand "Davis. He was very helpful."

"Really? I'm glad to here that."

I heard the creak of a door and glanced back. Standing there was a teenaged girl with a pale blonde bob and chocolate brown eyes.

"There she is! That is Jordan Bryant. She has the same homeroom as you, as well as several other classes."

"Hey," I greeted.

"Hi," Jordan replied timidly.

"My name is Veronica."

"I know. I'm Jordan, obviously."

"Well, ladies," Ms. Walker interjected, "you better be off. Class starts in ten minutes."

I nodded. "Well, thanks, Ms. Walker."

"Bye, girls! Have a nice day!"

I hoped I would.

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Thanks for the cover qaxela !!!

That was fun! Did you like it? Feel free to comment your favorite character so far. I know that not much has been revealed, but why not? 

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See you soon (Monday!) with another chapter!