[October 26, 2009]
It was a normal day in Pacoima High School. Students were gossiping, talking about the lastest fashion, asking for the previous night's homework because they decided a game of WoW was more important than working a few algebra problems, and all the other hundreds of things teenagers talk about. The atmosphere changed when I walked through those blue framed glass doors. A new student three months into the semester doesn't happen at Pacoima. Everyone's attention was no longer on fashion magazines or math homework. Their attention was on me, the new kid.
"Damn! He's hott!" a brunette said to the other girls at her table. "I know!" her friend whispered back. "I wonder if he's single," the brunette said, and all the girls giggled.
"Ah! Mr. Adkins. Glad to see you here," a man in a blue suit spoke from behind. He placed a hand firmly on my shoulder. "If you follow me to my office, I'll give you your schedule."
I followed the counselor down a narrow hallway to a small office where I received a small rectangular pink slip of paper. On the top left corner is said my name, Adkins, Michael K. It had my address, phone number, student ID#, classification as a Junior, and most importantly, the 7 classes I would be taking with year. My schedule was English, U.S History, Physics, Weight Training, Lunch, Pre-Calculus, Art, and French.
"You better get to class. Don't want to be late on the first day of school. If you need anything, I'll be here," the counselor, whose name I found out was Mr. Frankford, smiled and led me to the door.
I began to walk to English, looking at the map of the school the counselor gave me after every couple of steps. I stopped by the boy's restroom on the way and looked in the mirror. "This is the second time you've been transferred to a new school in three months. Why can't you stay in the same school for a whole year?" I spoke to the boy with dark brown eyes, tan skin, and black messy hair that had a few blonde highlights. The boy in the mirror didn't answer back. He just stared at me blankly. I looked at my black studded watch and saw that I only had 2 minutes to get to class. I was on the first floor, but my class was on the second floor. I sprinted up the stairs and down the hall. The chains on my pants jingled as I got into the classroom just as the bell rang. I could hear the girls squealing with delight, but I didn't understand why.
The teacher, Ms. Raine, stood in front of the room and motioned for me to come forward. I handed her my schedule and waited. "Okay, Michael. You can sit in the empty desk next to Natalie." I turned around and saw a girl with brown hair pulled up in a pony tail shyly wave at me. The other girls glared at her while whispering to one another. The class began.
The rest of the day was pretty much the same. It was always a girl I was seated next to. The other students were jealous. The other girls wished that they could sit next to me, and the guys wished I didn't exist.
After the last bell rang, I grabbed my black jacket out of my locker and pulled it on. After putting everything in my messenger bag, I swung it over my shoulder and trotted to the parking lot. By the time I reached the bike rack, there was only one bike left, mine. It was a black, blue, and silver bike with a skull on the seat. I unlocked the chain from the rack and locked it onto my bike. I got on and adjusted my messenger bag so it wouldn't hit the rear tire. After adjusting everything, I took off down the sidewalk until I reached the main road that would take me home.
I rolled up the driveway and parked my bike by the front door of the house. I pulled my keys out of my pocket by the black lanyard they were attached to and opened the door. "I'm home!" I shouted as I walked in.
My mother, a black haired middle-aged woman, walked into the entry from the kitchen. "How was school, Michael?"
"Fine, Mom. I'm not a kid. You don't have to ask me that. Why don't you just ask Logan?" I walked past her after taking my shoes off.
My mother put her hands on her hips while watching me walk up the stairs. "I did," she said, sounding upset.
I closed the door to my room and started blasting Linkin Park through the stereo. I dropped my bag on the floor and climbed the ladder to my loft bed where I collapsed and laid my head down on my pillow. I started to doze off when there was a loud bang on my door ten minutes later.
"Dinner!" I heard my little brother shout before scurrying down the stairs and into the kitchen.
I jumped down from my bed and flattened my hair. I walked down the stairs and jumped the last five steps.
"Why don't you walk down the stairs like a normal person?" my mother asked.
"Because I'm not normal. I'm a demon ready to be let loose and destroy the world," I chuckled as I sat down.
"I thought I told you not to talk like that! Try to be serious for once!" my father, a semi-muscular man with brown hair, yelled at me.
"I am being serious!" I shouted back.
My mother slammed her hands on the table as she stood. "No fighting at the table!" she glared at my father and me. When everyone was silent, she sat back down.
Halfway through my meal, I stood up and ran up the stairs. I grabbed my jacket off my chair and cell phone off the desk. As I walked down the stairs, I noticed my father starting to get up. I got my black shoes on and opened the door.
"Where are you going?" my father looked at me with crossed arms.
"None of your business!" I slammed the door shut behind me as I walked into the cold night. I jumped on my bike and pedaled down the street.