New city, new school
'You must be Olivia,’ he said. She saw his shoes first. ‘It is Olivia, isn't it?’ The boy moved his weight uncertainly from one shoe to the other. ‘My name's Miles.’ Olivia Larsen uncrossed her arms and sat up. Had she been sleeping? She remembered finding a hidden spot on the grass by the double-wide doors of Golden Gate School just as the bell was ringing for lunch. She remembered staring at the sidewalk, watching her new classmates as they walked in and out. But she could tell by the way Miles was looking at her, with an awkward little half-smile, that he'd been standing there for a while.
Olivia stood up, feeling her jeans for patches of dirt. That was all she needed: to be paraded around on her first day of school with wet brown marks all over her trousers. ‘I'm supposed to give you a tour,’ Miles said. ‘Our moms work together, right?’ He held one hand out for her to shake and then quickly pulled it back, as if he'd accidentally touched something hot. ‘Are you okay?’ Olivia tried to nod, but an enormous yawn stretched her mouth wide open, her eyes squeezing shut. She hadn't had a solid night's sleep since her family had arrived in San Francisco a few days before. Strange, new city sounds were keeping her awake. ‘You must be exhausted,’ Miles said.
Olivia swung her ancient backpack over one shoulder. She almost hadn't brought it — what was the point of a book bag when you didn't yet have any books? But it was the same bag she'd carried to school every day since the beginning of seventh grade, navy blue with faded nylon straps, and it reminded her of home.
‘We can do this another time, if you want,’ Miles said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his dark green corduroy pants. ‘No,’ Olivia said quickly, feeling bad. It wasn't his fault their moms worked at the same law firm downtown and had arranged for him to show her around at lunch. ‘I'll be fine.’ Miles took his hands out of his pockets. ‘Okay,’ he said,’so are you ready for the grand tour?’
Olivia followed Miles around the corner and through a narrow, dark corridor. ‘The school's not so bad once you get used to the place,’ Miles said. Olivia nodded, her legs stiff and her black boots heavy as she struggled to keep up. ‘Speaking of which,’ Miles said, ‘what are you doing here, anyway?’ Olivia felt a familiar red stain spreading across her face and neck. She was used to the fact that she wore her emotions for all to see, and arranged her blond hair so that it fell over one shoulder, hoping to hide her blushing face. ‘Er, sorry,’ Miles said quickly, cringing at his clumsy attempt at conversation, ‘that sounded way kinder in my head. It's just that we don't usually get anybody new this late in the term, and all my mom told me is that you moved. She didn't say where from.’
‘Boston,’ Olivia offered. ‘Wow,’ Miles said, ‘you didn't drive all the way over from Boston to San Francisco, did you?’ ‘No,’ Olivia said a little too (line 61) loudly, recoiling at the idea of a road trip with her parents across the United States. They weren't exactly the kind of family who amused themselves with word games and car songs. ‘We flew in over the weekend so my mom could start at work,’ she explained. ‘I guess they made her an offer that was too good to refuse.’ ‘Right,’ Miles said, with a careful nod that said he guessed she wasn't letting on about everything. ‘It was certainly too far for her to travel to work every day,’ Olivia added, smiling as he pushed through another set of thick glass doors and led them outside.