Really I shouldn't be allowed to start new stories because I'm so hopeless about them, but this one feels good and with a little bit of loving encouragement, I feel I can keep it rolling decently. ;)

I have a couple of weeks before school starts to really push out the boat so to speak, so let me know if you like what's here, :)

IBYF, xoxo

Facets Of A Smile - Prologue

The first day of a new school is full of that social awkwardness and working out ‘who’s who’, and who will have your back and who’ll stab you in it. It’s painful and slow and when it’s over, you most likely will declare it the most awful school ever and refuse point blank to return to it the next day.

Of course, you inevitably will return and will probably suffer a few more days of that ‘new-kid’ discomfort as you settle in, eventually finding your niche within the school’s hierarchy, wherever that may be.

Ah, but that hierarchy, it’s tough and unyielding, once in, you can’t change your place unless under dire circumstances, and even then, it’s difficult. But there is an art to getting into the place you want, and if you turn up first day giving off the appropriate vibes, you’ll slip in perfectly.

Nathan had had plenty of schools to work through to practice it. It’d been fun. He’d never been anywhere longer than a couple of months though, so wrong choices had been, though highly disliked, tolerated.

The new school was just a little more high class than he was used to, but a little change is never a bad thing, and he decided he could enjoy it while he was there, then when his father tired of the place, they’d move on.

Deciding where to slide into the hierarchy could be a difficult choice at times. That time around, he intended on fitting in with the slightly more laid back kids who listened to music and skated, spent their nights down at the park, watching local bands and just hanging out.

He’d decided against the more sporting side of life because around the new town, the sporting group seemed to be the richer boys and while Nate’s family were more than decently well off, he was not quite loaded enough to pull it off. The more ‘preppy’ type was out that time too, but only because that was the last group he had settled in and he preferred not to do the same thing twice. Terribly boring, he found. And the rest? Well, he just wasn’t really in the mood.

Where to start then? Attire must be appropriate, especially to begin with and so must hair, but it was hardly a chore to make them so. It could be fun. After that, he had to be sure he made no foolish mistakes about something that ‘a person like that’ should know.

The alarm. He could easily have come to hate it, but he supposed it was one of those necessary evils he had come to a truce with eventually. He turned it off as soon as his fumbling hand could reach it, collapsing tiredly back into the covers. As he pushed them down slightly from over his head, he found himself wincing slightly at the light pouring through the bedroom windows.

Sliding out of bed with early morning lethargy still heavy in his limbs, he showered slowly, savouring the heat and the cleanliness, waking up with the sharp heated citron soapy smell invading the bathroom.

Standing after a while in front of a full-length mirror, he observed his reflection closely. His last school had left his hair in messy surfer waves of sun kissed blonde, but his decision had resulted in a new colour, leaving his hair more a rich brown, with currents of both darker and lighter colour threaded through it. He’d also cut off considerable amounts of it, leaving a longer fringe, but trimming down the rest to a more fitting length.

While his hair was the first step, there was more to it than that. He worked on the basis of loose jeans or cargo-pants, skate-shoes loosely slipped onto his feet, a comfortable but not too baggy tee, and a hoodie, adding a couple of wristbands for effect.

Though the general look was better, he still stood, scrutinising his reflection with slightly narrowed hazel eyes. He frowned, turning to his desk and digging through a box of jewellery. Taking some small items through into the bathroom, he gritted his teeth, carefully pushing a lip piercing back through, despite the hole being almost closed. He winced and hissed at the pain, mopping up a dribble of blood that trickled down his chin, but forcing himself to deal with it. He didn’t usually let the piercings close up so much, but he had forgotten to occasionally put something in to keep them.

After a second thought, he stuck out his tongue, removing a clear and almost invisible piercing from it and putting in a metal one.

Returning to face his reflection, he saw exactly the kind of person he wanted to fit in with, finally offering up a wide grin, sticking out his tongue. He turned away, flipping a skateboard up from the floor and wandering downstairs.

He found his parents sitting in a bright, spacious, modern looking kitchen, sipping at their morning coffee.
“Morning,” he greeted, relatively cheerful, pecking his mother’s forehead as he passed her and nodding across the table at his father as he swiped an apple from the fruit-bowl and a breakfast bar from the cupboard. He hurried out into the hallway, scooping up a rucksack and opening the front door as his father called;
“Good luck Nate!” He laughed quietly, returning his thanks. He walked briskly down the front drive, dropping his skateboard smoothly to the ground as he reached the pavement, pushing off with a practiced balance and ease, munching on his apple as he went.

His journey to school was uneventful, but by no means boring as he studied his neighbours and the other inhabitants of the town as he went.

At the end of his road, on the corner, there was a large family with lots of dogs whose mother greeted him cheerfully good morning with a bright smile, while, somehow, managing to wrestle two screaming toddlers into the back of a gleaming silver car amidst a veritable army of different aged children demanding things all at once. Nate tried not to laugh, nodding politely in return.

He moved quickly past a house where a wrinkled old woman lounged in a deck chair glaring at him over her morning paper, took note of a local supermarket, Starbucks and the mall as he passed them, eventually reaching the gates of a decently pleasant looking school.

He paused in front of it, taking it in and sinking into the person he was planning to be. With a silent vote of confidence from himself, he picked up his skateboard and made his way calmly onto the school grounds.

Matt was watching him.

So, like it? Hate it? Want to spread peanut butter on it? Let me know. Feedback is always helpful. :)

xoxo