As I stare into my closet, my pesky indecisiveness preventing me from choosing an outfit, footsteps near the door along with the sound of my mother's stern voice.

"Estella, you're leaving in ten minutes. You need to start getting ready."

I nod slowly in response, still unable to peel my eyes away from the endless amount of clothing options displayed in front of me. My mom lingers at the threshold of the door before walking away, her heels clicking against the floor rhythmically. Even though I have a boatload of clothes, everything in front of me seems so plain, so boring. Considering my wardrobe consists mostly of long-sleeved t-shirts, turtlenecks of every color, and a variety of skinny jeans, I decide it doesn't really matter what I wear today. It's all the same.

With a frustrated huff, I pull out a pair of dark wash skinny jeans and a light pink long sleeved t-shirt with a scoop neck. After quickly slipping on my black high-top converse, I take one last look in the mirror.

Basic.

So, very, basic.

I run a hand through my straight, shoulder-length, brown locks. I decide it's best to tie it up with an elastic band, the way I do every day. With a dramatic sigh, I grab my plain black Jansport backpack and sling it over my shoulders.

With a quick once over of my bedroom, I  nod, noting that everything I need is inside of my backpack.

You got this, Estella.

"Ready, Stel?"

I shrug as I walk down the large spiral staircase of my house. I begin to feel as though my legs are going to give out with every step I take. A part of me wishes that I had never asked for this, although I know I didn't make the decision on a whim.

"My mom left?" I ask without reason, already knowing the response.

I sit down on one of the three white stools lined in front of the island in the kitchen, twisting in the seat with anxiousness. I tap on the marble counter with my short fingernails nervously.

Brooke, my nanny (a word I absolutely despise) nods with a small, sympathetic frown on her face.

I shrug it off with a small nod. I pick up an apple from the countertop, only to set it back down due to my lack of appetite. Brooke rolls up the top of my brown paper lunch bag and slides it across the counter. Removing my backpack, I unzip it and carefully place my lunch inside.

"You ready? Can't be late on your first day!" Brooke exclaims with a tight smile, trying her best to lighten up the mood that, to me, seems to always take place in the large, empty house.

"Ready as I'll ever be. I think."

I stand up from the stool as Brooke grabs the set of car keys that were hung on a hook near the oversized front door.

"Are you nervous?" Brooke asks with concern as she turns to look at me once we are seated in her black Range Rover. She continues before I can get a word out. "You shouldn't be, Stel. Okay? Because you, my friend, are a badass who is going to kick ass on your first day, alright?"

I meet eyes with Brooke, who has the biggest, most supportive smile on her face. The features of her face are gentle. Her dark brown hair, highlighted with blonde strands, rests in a messy bun on top of her head.

It brings me a sense of comfort knowing that Brooke believes in me, that she's rooting for me on the sidelines the way she always has.

"Thank you." I smile back, my confidence being boosted by the encouraging words of my nanny.

But she isn't just a nanny. That's the thing. She is someone who's been there for me since I was in the fifth grade, and has stuck with me throughout everything. She is my confidant, my biggest supporter.

My best friend.

My family.

The rest of the car ride is silent with the exception of the stereo playing music at a low volume. My mind runs wild with the fear and built-up anxiety I've acquired over the span of two days. But there's also the excitement roaming my body. I'm finally getting a glimpse of the life I've always wanted.

Brooke's driving slows as we near where I  would be completing my final year of school.

Westwood High School.

The outside perimeter of the school is flooded with students talking and laughing with others as they wait for the bell for their first class of the day to ring. They all seem so comfortable, which makes sense considering school has been in session for a couple of weeks already.

My heart beats faster as we approach the front of school, where Brooke is going to drop me off and leaving me to fend for myself. Which is something I am both used to and unfamiliar with at the same, exact time.

"Good luck," Brooke says with one of her signature smiles.

"Thank you." I reply as I crack my fingers, a nervous habit I picked up long ago. "I'll see you after."

And with that, I open the door and step out of the safety of Brooke's car, entering the world of regular high school students who have been doing this for practically their entire lives.

I nervously walk up to the large building, searching for the front office where someone will give me a schedule along with a tour of the campus.

"Hi!" A young woman at the front desk says with a smile as I enter the office. "You must be Estella! Welcome to Westwood."

"Thank you," I reply as I make my way towards the secretary.

"I'm Courtney," she continues, standing up to grab a sheet of paper from the printer. "Here's your schedule."

I scan over my classes, already aware of what courses I'm taking this year. My only concern is how exactly I'm going to remember where each of the classes are located.

"Estella, this is Marissa. She's going to show you around, take you to each of your classes, you know, show you the ropes," Courtney says as she gestured to a tall brunette with bright green eyes.

"Nice to meet you." Marissa says as she waves me over, walking to the exit of the office.

"Thanks for showing me around," I reply as Marissa takes the schedule from ny hands, scanning it over and mentally taking note of where she's headed. "Are you a senior, too?"

"Sophomore," she replies. "But I try to be really involved here, so they always ask me to do stuff for them... like give campus tours to visitors and new students. Things like that."

I nod mutely, walking beside her. Marissa points out different classrooms, the locations of the bathrooms on campus, the cafeteria, etc. I can definitely see why she is asked to do these types of tasks. She's easy to talk to and knows the campus like the back of her hand.

The school is extremely beautiful and much larger than I would have ever expected. The pictures I skimmed through last night did the buildings no justice. I am well aware that the buildings were remodeled recently, but with every step I take, the school seems to get more and more luxurious.

I know I'm lucky to attend a school like this. I've heard things about public schools and how they're extremely filthy and filled with ruthless bullies and jocks who are complete jerks. But Westwood looks clean, the students around the campus seem happy. I hope that I'll fit right in.

The buildings let in tons of natural light as well, which I absolutely love. Huge windows cover most of the surface of the walls around the school. When Marissa shows me an empty classroom on the third floor, I take in the cleanliness of it, the skylights on the ceiling, the organized seating arrangements, the fresh scent coming from air fresheners that are strategically placed around the room.

The bell for the first class of the day rings as we continue our walk through the halls of the high school. I receive glances from the few students walking past me. I'm sure that my wanting to grasp onto everything Marissa says is displayed on my face. Which probably makes the fact that I am indeed, the new girl, very obvious.

"Alright, and here's your first class of the day." Marissa stops in front of a classroom identical to all the others we've passed.

"Okay, well... thank you," I reply with a smile. "I can't say I'm going to remember where all of these classes are." I gesture to the sheet of paper in my hand. "But I'm going to try my best."

Marissa chuckles before placing an encouraging hand on my forearm. "I know it's overwhelming at first, but everyone here is really friendly, I promise. And I'm sure someone in this class will help you find your way to the next."

I nod, hoping she's right and that there'll  be someone, anyone, willing to help me find my way through the gigantic campus.

With that, Marissa turns and walks away, leaving me standing in the wide, empty hallway outside of the Physics classroom.

"You can do this," I whisper to myself as I walk over to the door. "Just... open the door."

They're gonna stare at you the minute you step inside.

As my hand hovers over the knob, the door suddenly swings open and on the other side of the threshold appears a boy with brown, wavy hair and sea-green eyes. He wears a black sweatshirt and a pair of dark blue Dickies.

My eyes widen at the sudden interaction with the boy who is admittedly, really handsome. "Um-"

"Are you just going to stand there... outside... for the entire class?" He asks, his eyes switching their gaze from me, to the empty hallway behind me, and then back to me.

"I- I'm new." I stutter, unable to keep direct eye contact with the boy in front of me. I feel my face begin heating up the longer we stand here.

Chill out, would you? Sheesh.

His mouth turns up into a small smile, my awkwardness definitely being a source of entertainment to him as he leans against the door frame, crossing his arms.

"Hi New, I'm Asher."

-

author's note!

hi everyone :) here's the first chapter of 'Dear Estella,'! I have so much planned for this story. I'm extremely excited to begin publishing all of these chapter drafts...

This chapter obviously is just setting the story, giving you all a little glimpse into the life of Estella Ramirez. I hope you'll stick around! I promise it gets better :))

- blizfvl