I awoke with a jolt from a sound that could cause a heart attack. And nearly did, if I do say so myself. Slapping my alarm across the room I groaned, and sat up. Looking at the calendar over my bed I realized with a shock that today was the first day of school. More importantly the first day of my first year at high school. Freshman year. Sweet, sweet freshman year. Or so I have heard.

I rub my eyes tiredly, and begin to stand up. Moving slowly, as to not get head rush, I walk over to my dresser and pick up my outfit that I chose weeks ago for this certain day. I yawn as I tread towards the bathroom, waving tiredly at my brother who is just coming out. He smiles and goes back to his room to get ready for his first day of 6th grade.

Walking in the bathroom I do my business, and wash my face. After a splash of cold water I'm thrilled to see that, alas, no pimples today! Then noticing the tiredness under my eyes, my joy dims a bit. But just a bit. I slip into my outfit, and check myself out in the mirror. Having still not brushed my hair, I grimace at my reflection. My hair could be mistaken for a nest, a messy knotty birds' nest. Quickly, and painfully, I force the brush through my hair. Looking back in the reflection I'm happy to see my long brown hair nice and shiny.

"Jordan! Bryan! Hurry and come down and eat, before you miss your rides'!" I wince as my mother calls me and my brother. Rather loudly, might I mention.

Rushing down the stairs I'm lucky to not trip once. I smile at my mom who is standing in front of the toaster, waiting for the bagels to pop. She grins back and asks, "Nervous about your first day, sweetie?"

I shrug nonchalantly, even though the butterflies are practically eating my insides. "Nah," I reply, "It probably won't be any different then all the other schools." When my mother didn't reply, or more importantly offer any reassurances I squeaked out a, "Right?"

She smiled at me and nodded, "Sure, sure. No difference at all."

Not to happy with my mothers' answer I shrug and snatch the bagel from the toaster before she even realized it had popped. Hissing as it burned my hand, I dropped it on the plate my mother graciously handed me. As I was about to thank her she scolds, "That's what you get!" Snatching away the plate, along with the bagel, and handing it to my brother. Who I just noticed standing behind me, at the foot of the stairs.

I grumble at her and him, and pull out another bagel for myself. I hear my mother questioning Bryan about whether he was nervous, as I place my bagel into the toaster. He answers with "Not so much. I've already called Thomas, and we have all the same classes together." Well, isn't he the smart one. Checking with his friend about sharing classes.

My mother nods, smiling. "That's good, I do hope you have a good day," She all but pushes him out the door as she notices the yellow bus coming around the corner from our house. I see him shove his bagel into his mouth before he takes off running out the door. Halfway down the driveway he turns around and comes rushing back. Grabbing his backpack off the couch in the living room, he shouts a quick "Bye Mom! Jordan!" and is out the door before we could reply. I briefly wonder what in the world he had done with the bagel in the 2 seconds.

After rushing to my own bus I realize that maybe this whole first day of my first year at high school isn't all it's cracked up to be. Course, that may be because of the fact that as I rushed to the bus, I stepped in a nasty puddle.

Sighing, I looked at all the crowded seats on the bus, searching for a familiar face. Meanwhile the bus driver takes off, while I'm standing there like a dummy. A dummy who has mud making her jeans stick uncomfortably to her skin.

Finally I see a face who vaguely looks like my best friend from a couple years ago, Janice. Noticing she, whether Janice or not, is alone, I rush over and politely ask to sit with her. Looking up at me I realize it is Janice. Taking headphones out of her ears, I realize that there is an iPod sitting on her lap, I smile and ask again. She nods, and I sit graciously.

"So, whatcha listening to?" I ask interested.

She shrugs, "The same." I smile realizing what she meant. She had this one band that she absolutely loved, and was always listening to. For some reason glad to still know something about her I ask for a headphone. She obliged and we listened together in silence.

Sitting with her on the bus, listening to the familiar music, brought back memories from those years ago. When we were measly 6th graders. Hanging out at her house, at school, or at my own house. Laughing at the guys when they tried to chase us. Then laughing at the girls who tried to chase them. Back then cooties were still a thing, at least me and her stilled believed in them. Back then, we brought lunch to school, and we would always swap. She'd want my moms' macaroni and cheese, and I'd want her moms' cookies.

I wondered why we stopped hanging out. I turned to look at her and realized she had been staring at me. I smiled and asked both politely and curiously, "How was your summer?"

She didn't smile. "It was fine."

Uncomfortable with the silence that followed, I quickly spoke up again.

"I didn't think that we would ride the same bus, did you move, or has the bus route changed?" I joked, being as she lived on the other side of the school.

She didn't laugh. "I moved."

"Oh." I answered, again uncomfortable. "I'm sorry?" It was meant to be an apology, but came out a question.

She nodded, whether she agreed that I should be sorry, or was accepting my apology, was lost on me. She turned away from me, and started looking out the window.

I sighed, and sat in silence for the rest of the journey to the school.

After an awkward goodbye to Janice's back as she walked away from me, and towards a group of people I assumed were her friends, I found myself feeling rather small, and alone. I was standing in front of a large building which happens to be the school that I'll be attending for the next four years of my life. I could see, what appeared to me as millions, of people mingling on the gorgeous lawn of Grant Jefferson High School. The butterflies, which had previously subsided, attacked now with a vengeance.

Not recognizing anyone and starting to freak myself out, I shoved my hand into my pocket to retrieve my folded schedule. While in the process of trying to determine what to do first (locate my locker, or locate my first period) I was shoved, rather suddenly, and found myself saying an intimate hello to the ground. The dirty, hard, cold, cement, to be exact. Grunting I rolled over to glare at the person who so rudely manhandled me, to find a hand shoved close to my face. Grabbing the hand for help up, sounds, that were previously muted, started to be understood by my befuddled brain. I faintly heard apologies from a deep voice. Looking up to find the owner, of both the hand and the voice, I found myself staring into the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen.

Blushing, I tried to listen to what the speaker was saying.

"I'm so so sorry. I swear I didn't mean to. It's just that you were there, and I wasn't looking, and I was walking, and and.. Well you know what happened. Are you okay? Do you hurt anywhere? Is anything bruised? I'm so sorry. Can you forgive me?" I stopped him before he could continue with his rambling.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Nothing bruised but my ego. Silly me, standing in the middle of the walkway. No need to worry. I'll just.." Noticing that he was still holding my hand, I blushed and tried to take it back. He gave me my hand and smiled, I thought I could see a faint blush coloring his cheeks too. "Well, it was nice bumping into you, wait no it wasn't, but.. I'm just gonna go." Embarrassed I pointed behind me, and rushed away.

I heard him chuckle before I was out of ear-shot. My plans remembered, and the boy whose name I forgot to ask for, forgotten, I searched for room 209, my first period. Finding it relatively easy, I sighed and looked back at my schedule. English I Honors: Room 209. Art I: Room 603. Physical Science: Room 312. Lunch: Cafeteria. Computer Applications I: Room 506. Geometry Honors: Room 116. Physical Education: Building D.

Laughing at the obviousness of lunch's location, I headed off to find my locker, which so happened to be locker number 413. Walking along the halls I found all of my classes except for art. Refusing to give up on both finding my art class and on my locker, I turned and headed to back to Building A, which had said 'Office' underneath it, on the plaque.

A/N. Right so. I just found this story in my 'Doc Manager' and was surprised at it's contents. I only vaguely remember writing it, and don't remember a plot at all so, if anyone would like to have creative license or whatever with this, let me know and we can discuss. Ha. That sounded pretentious, right? Thinking someone likes this lame chapter (with less than zero meat to it) enough to want to make a story of it? Ah well, let me know. I'd be more than willing to do a collab with someone. Later!