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My name is Frank. Frank Baker, but call me Fran. Please.
I’ve just moved to Southern California. ‘Where did you move from?’ You may be asking, and the answer is good ol’ Philadelphia. We moved cause my mom's dad was offered an important job. Don’t ask me what he does, I don’t know or care what he does as long as we’re not homeless.
I didn’t wanna move, i liked Philly, but i don’t get to choose, do i?
So now im standing at the front of my new school, dressed in some of my best clothes. I have on my half-sleeve Bondie band shirt (the sleeves and collar are black, the rest is white, except for the design in the middle of the shirt. It’s the Parallel Lines album cover, if you’re wondering.) but the shirt is a size too big so the black sleeves go slightly past my elbows and the rest of the shirt goes past my wasit by just 2 inchs, i also have on my light wash bell-bottoms with my brown leather belt that has a big belt buckle that says ‘the doors’ on it (i got it off ebay), and lastly i have my old red chucks on and my black bag.
I look around and i already feel out of place. im starting my sophomore year of high school across the country, with no friends within 100 miles.
Lovely.
I take a deep breath and walk through the doors of the building- just to be met with a noisy hallway. I already had a tour of the place, so i know where everything generally is. I walk through the halls to my locker, ignoring all the whispers and people looking at me, they probably think i look outdated and a loser. When i get to my locker i hear some girl whisper to her friend, “You see the new boy?...yeah, he looks like a girl.” I hear that a lot. I haven’t meant it yet, but i have long, fluffy, dirty blonde hair with bangs and thin limbs. But im tall (6,2) so i thought that’d save me.
Guess i thought wrong.
But i ignore them and put some stuff away in my locker, closing it and looking at my schedule to see what i have first.
Math. great.
Im not good at math, and now it’s my first class at my new school on a Monday. Lovely.
I get my bag and sling it over my shoulder, starting to walk to my next class. After a few minutes i find my way to class. There’s a plac next to the door that reads- ‘Room 109, Ms. Jackson.’ - i double check my class list, and sure enough, i have Ms. Jackson. I take a deep breath for the second time and walk through the door.
There’s a few kids in the class, but they don’t noice me walk in. i scan the room and find a desk in a far out corner of the room, perfect. I walk to the back and quietly take a seat, looking around the class and actually looking at my now classmates for math.
There’s 3 girls all sitting next to each other and talking, so their friends. There’s one other boy across the room from me, his head is down and - i can only assume - he’s drawing something, but he’s wearing a beatles night day’s night shirt so i think he’s cool even if i don’t know him. I wanna go up and talk to him but he looks like he doesn’t wanna talk right now.
After a few minute, the rest of the class comes in and class starts. A tall, neatly dress lady who looked like she could be in her 60s, who i could only assume was Ms. Jackson, walked in and started talking roll. I spaced out, still looking at the boy with the beatles shirt everyonce in awhile. The name Mischelle is called and the beatle shirt boy…girl? I don’t know, looked up and and said “um..i go by Julian, actually…” and then Ms. jackson looked at the poor boy and said “Well, that’s not what it says on the roll, is it Mischelle?”. The boy, Julian, sighed sadly and looked back down at his paper. I thought Julian was much more fitted for him then Mischelle, and that this lady Ms. Jackson was being a bitch. His name was Julian to me, not Mischelle or whatever it said on that dumb sheet.
The rest of class goes by without the boy Julian talking, i really wanted to talk to him. “I’ll do it after class.” i thought to myself.
The bell rings and kids flood out of the class room, i stay behind just as Julian did. I finish packing up and quietly walk over to him.
“..Hey, you’re Julian, right?” my voice was raspy from not being used much.
Julian’s head snapped up, his pretty brown doe eyes wide looking up at me from the desk.
“Uh..y-yeah. That’s me.” He said quietly
‘God, even his voice is pretty.’ i thought to myself before smiling at him and speaking again
“..cool, I’m Frank, but call me Fran. I was just coming over to say i like your Beatles shirt. They’re one of the best bands of all time, yeah?”
I watch julian’s face tint pink
“O-oh..yeah, totally. I love them…i also really like your outfit, Fran..”
“Thanks, man.”
I smile at the nervous boy
“You wanna sit with me at lunch?”
Julian’s eyes go wider.
“..really? Heck yeah i do!” Julian smiles.
I love his smile, even if i just now got to see it.
“Cool. I’ll see you then?” i ask
“yeah , totally.” He says back
I smile at him one last time before Ms. Jackson starts to fuss at us for still being in her class, so i leave the room.
This school year is gonna be pretty dope if this is my first day.