#ahh.....

Tikki was always right and was always there to guide her in the right direction. So – she dressed for comfort and she dressed in what made herself unique. She dressed in what she made. In what she was proud of and she didn’t care if anyone didn’t like it because she liked it and Alya and Tikki liked it and her parents liked it and that should be enough for her…right..?

Marinette clenched her fists with a grimace and stared at her Kwami. Up until this point she still had no idea how she survived growing up without her but she was glad that she would never need to worry about that anymore.

So, the small girl threw on a t-shirt that she had made the summer before. It was white all throughout, reaching the bottom hems of the shirt was lined front to back with flowers and hidden within them small ladybugs. Over that, she pulled on a black jacket and a pair of maroon jeans followed with a pair of old sneakers.

Comfort

Comfort

She kept repeating it in her head.

“Makeup?” she asked Tikki, who by this point had re-curled herself into a burrow of  blankets.

“Marinette – you never wear make up.”

“Right. I don’t even know how to do makeup. Thanks Tik.” She was going to go crazy.

Looking in the mirror Marinette tugged at the ends of her hair, which only reached to just barely brush the top of her shoulders. From her neck she traced her fingers up against her scalp and ruffled her hair up attempting something different.

I hate it.

Quickly,  the messy-haired girl rushed into the bathroom to fix it.

“Marinette! Alya is here!” her mother yelled up to her.

“Just a minute!” Marinette yelled back, frantically reaching for her brush and parting the top layer of her hair and tying it back into a small bun. She rushed back out into her room, scooping up Tikki, and placed her into the largest pocket of her backpack, “Don’t worry I’ll be sure to stuff some cookies in there for you.” She said with a smile before tossing the backpack over her shoulders and giving herself one last look in the mirror.

She adjusted her backpack,

Then the straps on her shoulders.

Did students even wear their backpacks like this?

Was this the right k-

“Marinette!” her mother yelled again snapping her out of her daze.

“Coming!”

Like any mother, Marinette’s mother took her anxiety and increased it fourfold. As soon as she had reached the kitchen she found Alya tearing off small parts of a croissant that her mother had made them for breakfast while trying to shoulder all of Sabine’s worries. Marinette immediately regretted coming down at all.

Maybe she could’ve stayed upstairs, never gone to school, grown a beard and become a hermit all on her own and-

“Sweetheart! I packed your lunch for you-“ she spun her around stuffing the small bag into one of the pockets of her backpack.

“Thanks mom…”

“And if you change your mind always remember your father and I don’t mind teaching you here.”

“Yes I know…”

“And if any of the students are mean to you-“

“I’ll kick their asses. Don’t worry Mrs. Cheng- Lil’Mari will be just fine with me I’ll take good care of her.” Alya said with a large grin, “You’ll scare her before she even gets to school. I know she’ll have a good time.”

And with that- before Sabine could utter out another word Alya quickly rushed her small friend out the door and past the bakery.

“Thanks Alya..” Marinette said with a nervous grin.

“No problem, girlie, you’re mom was making me nervous to go to school and I’ve been in class with these dorks for almost 3 years.” She chuckled tearing off another piece of croissant.

Mariette followed stress eating the melt-y pastry in record time.

“Woah, cool it Mari, you’ll give yourself a stomach ache!” the brunette laughed patting her friend on the back lightly, “Seriously, Mari – relax you’ll love it and they’ll love you. And if they don’t love you…” She mumbled cracking her knuckles, “I’ll make them regret it…”

She needed a good laugh that morning and thanks to Alya – she got it.

The walk to school wasn’t far yet somehow, a part of her hoped that it would be. Their short walk to school wasn’t enough to prepare herself. Upon approaching, she reached into her pockets and took out her phone searching through her recent emails.

“So I need to find a…” Her blue eyes drifted along the information filled email, “Mr. Damocles – the principal.”

“I’ll get you there.” Alya smiled, and lead her up the stairs to the school, “He looks sorta scary but he can be a big push over sometimes.” She laughed.

The walk to the principal’s office seemed like the longest in her entire life. All of the students seemed to be sitting in the courtyard at the school by this point, most likely all waiting for class to start. From then on not only had Marinette realized that she was an outsider before but now she really felt like it. It was almost like she could feel eyes locking in on her when in reality- not many people noticed but of course it was up to Marinette to classically over think her situations.

Everything will be fine she kept telling herself and soon I’ll be in class with Alya and then I’ll be home free.

“Hey- I’ll see you later?” the brunette smiled and headed off to her classroom with a smile.

“Yeah… later.”

This was his door. Come on Marinette – you can do this… She took in a deep breath and opened the door, “Mr. Damocles?”

“Ahh You must be Marinette, I’ve been expecting you-“ A rather plump man sat on the opposing end of the room behind a large desk, “Oh- I’m sorry, I thought you were-“

“I am Mar-“

“Ahh my sincerest apologies, there must have been an error on the documents sent to us I’ll get on that right away.” He explained gesturing her to sit down in one of the chairs across from him.

“Wha-…” What was wrong with my documents?

“You will be attending classes with Madame Boustier and Madam Mendeleive. I’m sure that anything you need your classmates will be more than willing to give you a hand around the school.” He explained sorting through the couple of papers on his desk, crossing out and re-writing some small scribbles, “That class is filled with rather exceptionally well behaved students and if you’d follow me I’ll hand you off to Madame Boustier.”

“O-Of course.” She stammered and nervously followed the principal out of the office and down the hallway. He ushered her to remain outside of the classroom until Madame Boustier brought her in and she willingly complied. Though, she couldn’t tell if she was about to throw up from being so excited or from being so nervous... but that was normal, right? Mr. Damocles left the classroom and patted her shoulder, giving her a gentle push into the room.

“We do have a new student this morning so let’s welcome them with open arms.” Madame Boustier smiled eagerly motioning the girl closer to her. Marinette found herself far too nervous to look out into the class so, instead, she looked at the ground. Madame Boustier held her clipboard up and traced down the papers that Mr. Damocles had handed her and she spoke.

“This is Marin Dupain-Cheng. He’s new to the school setting so lets make sure that we give him a hand while he tries to find his way around the school.”

Oh.

“Marin you can feel free to take a seat beside Alya it seems she’s very eager to have her friend in class.”

No.

“Adrien – If you wouldn’t mind showing Marin around during our break this afternoon that would be a great help.”

What’s happening?

“Of course! I’d be happy to show him around – Nino and I will be a great welcoming party!”

Please tell me I’m dreaming.

What do I do?

Do I say something?

Do I correct her?

This CAN’T be happening.

Marinette walked zombie-like to the seat beside Alya and plopped herself down.

“Mari…” Alya mumbled nudging my shoulder, “Say something…!”

She shook her head.

Alya grunted and opened her mouth “Mada-“

She elbowed her side cutting her off, “Don’t…”

She couldn’t tell what was more embarrassing: The fact that she was mistaken for a boy or the fact that she could be from then on known as the girl who got mistaken for a boy. So, she stayed silent and reassured herself slowly reminding herself:

It didn’t matter how others saw me. I know who I am and that’s what matters.

That’s what matters…

Marinette looked over and smiled at Alya, “It’s okay, really...”