Chapter Text
Priscilla Subramaniam - August 29, 202X - 10:34pm
> 3 baddies and the token dude ❤️🩷🩵💜
Today, 10:34pm
You
girl im do scared
*so
snoozy 🩷
its fineeee omg 😭😭
do u wanna take the early train tmr?
just so we can check the place out
it'll ease ur nerves <3
You
sigh ok sure…
even if we alr saw it during the open house
💔
carrot 🩵
Hey count me in!
I wanna go too
You
fsss don't even worry
which train though?
carrot 🩵
ooh
um
snoozy 🩷
probably the 8:00 one
carrot 🩵
???
THATS SO EARLY
You
becca be serious
dantheman 💜
STOP BLWONG UP MY FRICNG PHONE
IM TRYING TO SLEEP
I let out a giggle at Danny’s text. Of course, he wants to get a good night’s sleep before the first day of high school. Turning over in my bed, I gaze at my closet; the doors are open, revealing the semi-bare shelves and hangers. It’s so strange, seeing my room picked clean of the necessities that used to fill its walls and corners. I took my favourite posters and a few books, as well as most of my clothes, the string of polaroids I kept on my wall, and Teddy. Sure, I’m embarrassed to still be carrying around the limp stuffed bear I had as a kid, but I saw it tucked away in my pile of old toys I refused to throw out, and decided that I needed to keep it. It’s not like it’ll take up too much space anyways.
I glance at the phone one last time, seeing Rebecca huff and puff about the early wake-up time. After shooting back a quick goodnight text, I turn the phone over and place it on my nightstand. I can feel the sweat on my palms when I rub my shaking hands together, my stomach doing flips. High school… already? I really graduated junior high? As if to confirm that, I lift my head to peer at the certificate which still sat on my desk.
Dang, that was quick.
I think back to the ceremony, cringing at the memory of slipping and nearly rolling my ankle on stage, in front of everyone. In the crowd, my brother, George, clapped a hand over his mouth to keep himself from laughing out loud. My sister, Evie, never even bothered with hiding her amusement. Oh, why’d I have to wear heels for the first time that day?!
Groaning quietly, I just turn to face the wall. If I pretend to sleep, maybe sleep will actually come. I try to calm my mind, so I don’t come to school tomorrow looking dead. However, every time I try to turn my thoughts off, I remember that my first ever day of high school is indeed tomorrow, and my eyes fly open in a panic.
This is going to be a long night.
August 30, 202X - 7:32 am
As soon as I’m past the stairs, I see George staring at me with a mixture of amusement and faux concern. At least Evie isn't here; she annoyingly tends to voice the thoughts he prefers to keep in his head.
“Did you sleep well?” Amma asks, though she frowns like she already knows the answer. When I nod, she just sighs and shakes her head in defeat, muttering something under her breath in Tamil. She continues to poke at the omelet with her wooden spoon, and I catch the tail end of a complaint about Evie, who's still sound asleep.
“Ah, first day of school!”
Appa rounds the corner just then, a steaming cup of chai in his hand. He comes over to pat my back with his free hand.
“I can’t believe it, high school already! What’s next, university?”
“Speak to her in Tamil!” Amma cries in the aforementioned language, exasperated. True, I was losing the ability to speak Tamil fluently, since it’s just easier to speak English in a country where everyone else does. It annoys my mother to no end that I sound like a foreigner when I try to pronounce words my mother tongue, but Appa believes that was only right for someone who wasn’t even born in India. I feel guilty about the whole situation, so I try not to think about it too hard. Besides, at least I make an effort; the most George can say is “yes,” “no,” and “I don’t speak Tamil well,” and Evie's a lost cause.
As I slip past my dad to eat my breakfast, George leans back in the chair next to mine to drink his own chai. One of his signature smirks is already forming on his face, and I have to fight the urge to tell him off for annoying me, though he hasn't said anything yet.
“Imagine starting school already,” he snickers.
“Leave me alone, don't you have to start tomorrow?” I bite back.
“Hey,” he raises his hands in a dramatic shrug, a wry smile on his face, “at least I get to go home afterwards.”
I’d signed up for the on-campus housing based on my parents’ recommendations. They thought it would give me a head-start in experiencing independent living. I agreed and still appreciate their concern, but it makes me nervous. After today was over, I wasn’t supposed to go home and tell them all about it, but call them from the dorms. It's foreign to me, and for a time, I feared that I'd forget about the program today and just head straight home anyways.
Amma shoots George a sharp glare at my silence.
“Hey, she’s already struggling, so why do you have to go and make it worse?” Sighing and turning towards me, she continues her speech. “Listen, it’s not like they’ll lock you up there, right? You can always come home, or even quit the dorm program when you want to.”
“But the cancellation fee…?” I weakly protest. Appa shakes his head.
“Don’t worry about the cancellation fee or whatever else we have to pay for. Just focus on your studies and what feels best for you.”
He gives me a comforting smile, so I couldn’t help but smile back. They're right! Besides, no use in worrying about this now. I turn around to quickly shove my breakfast in my mouth while it's still hot; no point in all this jazz if I miss the train.
After checking my backpack for the third time that morning, I shut the zipper and hoist it onto one shoulder. Amma shakes her head disapprovingly and puts the remaining strap on my other shoulder, to which George barks out a laugh.
“Yeah, can't have you walking sideways!”
I roll my eyes, but turn to face my family. Tears are already forming in my mom’s eyes, and my dad, uneasy, shifts his weight. I shake my head and sigh wearily. It’s not like I’m being sent off to war! Their reactions were only making me even more nervous!
“Study well, and don’t get distracted, ok? Call us every week, and come visit…” my mom smiles, reaching out for a hug. I begrudgingly reciprocate her affection. After all, I am leaving the house entirely. I felt my dad pat my shoulder, while George looks off to the side.
“Have fun, Peppa,” he mumbles, which makes me laugh under my breath. I guess he’s sad to see me go after all.
“I’ll miss you guys,” I say, pulling back from the hug to look everyone in the eyes. “I should go now, I don’t want to miss the train. Tell Evie I said bye!”
With one last backward glance, I step onto the small porch of our row house and hop down the steps, finding my way towards the nearest train station. The door to the house shuts behind me. Clearbrook was waking up; my local café was getting the outdoor patio ready for customers, and traffic along our street was just picking up. The sun peeks out from behind the horizon, turning the sky into a shockingly brilliant pink-to-yellow gradient. Sky-high office buildings host a plethora of chic restaurants and luxe hotel lobbies on the ground, ensuring that the city blocks look alive regardless of the concrete jungles. Living downtown has proved to be stressful and noisy, but as if in apology, it provides the most stunning views of this busy metropolitan area no matter what time of day it is. So far, my first day of high school has actually been pretty good!
Rebecca Turner - August 30, 202X - 8:11 am
So far, my first day of high school has been a nightmare! One of the twins – they blamed each other, so we don’t really know who – somehow pulled down the rod holding up the shower curtain, so I had to wipe up the ocean of water they left behind on the tiles before I could start my own. Then, I discovered that they used some of my expensive hair products to make their stupid little “shower soups.” I also spent twenty minutes looking for my pencil case, which Richard had "unknowingly" put in his own backpack. Now, I’m taking the train that came after the one I was supposed to take, in other words, the one Peppa and Suzy are on right now! They assured me that they didn't mind it if I was late, but I did, and I was fuming. Siblings are such hard work! Suzy is so lucky to be an only child.
I glance at my phone to see Cigarette After Sex’s “Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby” playing. I decide to just focus on my music; I can’t let this morning ruin my first day, can I? It’s not like this moment will ever come again. The subway car tilts upwards as it exits the underground tunnel, and my view transitions from the blurry forms of the tunnel lights passing by at high speeds to the beginnings of people’s daily routines as they navigate the streets I call home. A boy slightly older than me adjusts his headphones around his head as he swerves his bike, narrowly missing an ill-placed menu board. Just in front of him is a construction crew, working on tearing up the road for what must be the hundredth time this week. The near constant hissing and humming of the train mutes the noise of the outside world, but I can still imagine the colourful words coming out of that other man's mouth. He waves his fist at an idiot who cut him off in rush hour traffic.
A muffled announcement announces the current destination over the intercom as the train slides to a stop at this transit center. When the high-pitched grinding gets louder, I’m whipping my head around to find an empty seat. There, at the back!
Once I’ve squeezed past the stragglers and marched over to the seat, I sit down with a relieved sigh, ready to drown out my worries with music.
Not even five minutes pass until I’m contemplating my situation, however. I’m still reeling from the sudden announcement that Mom made months ago about being able to afford the on-campus housing on top of possibly the priciest tuition in the city. I know it wasn't long since Dad got laid off, but having this much money in our possession to spend on such a trivial thing was a surprise to me. We’ve been struggling lately, so it’s not hard to imagine why she was coming home from work way later than usual these days. Though, it does make me wonder what pushed her to make the decision to pay so much for a silly quip of mine. I didn't even realize that I meant what I said until I was laying in bed hours after I'd joked about finally getting a room to myself. Even with the money our Aunt wires us, earning enough to keep six people afloat in the same house isn’t easy. To make matters worse, the house in question is old, and recently, more things have been breaking down. What was paid covers the costs for one academic year of housing, but if things don’t get better by then, I’ll have to move back in next year.
...But that’s next year, right?
My music pauses without me touching the screen. When I look down, I see an incoming call from Peppa that I accept.
“Hello?”
“Becca, hurry up!” Peppa yells into the mic. I hear conversations in the background. The girls must be at school already.
“Hey, I’m not driving the train, am I? It’ll be five minutes, I swear!” I whisper-yell back. There’s rustling as the phone is passed to another person.
“Take your time, girl,” Suzy coolly responds, like ice to Peppa's fire, “Peppa’s just throwing a tantrum.”
“I’ve never seen so many monitors in my life!”
I have to chuckle to myself at Peppa’s familiar antics. Sometimes, she liked to put on a show for the most mundane things.
“It’s called a computer lab-”
“I know what it is!”
Before I can finish my sentence, Peppa’s interjected. Suzy just laughs.
“We’ll be waiting, Rebecca, don’t worry!”
We say our goodbyes, and the music resumes once the call is over. Right! In five minutes, I’ll be touring the campus with my best friends since preschool, and no financial insecurity will come close to destroying the memories I make today.
Daniel Santana - August 20, 202X - 8:19 am
“Yeah, that’ll be all.”
While the cashier rings up my purchase, I dig my card out of my wallet. She pushes a paper bag towards me as I tap to pay. Thanking her, I grab my goodies and exit the small shop. On my way to school, I peer into the bag; there lies four chocolate chunk cookies for the girls and I, and an apple strudel for breakfast. I bite into the warm strudel and take in the scenes around me; the air smells like exhaust fumes, which is ironic given the greenery planted along the streets and sidewalks. Apple jam slips past the clutches of the soft pastry onto my fingers when I'm not looking. I definitely don't want a sticky mess on my crisp uniform sleeves.
Guess I can't afford to gawk, I think, as I lick the jam away and focus on walking.
Dr. Marta Frankenship High School opened around 8 years ago, in one of the busiest parts of the city. Within its second year, it was regarded as one of Canada’s finest, offering program upon program to its diverse array of students. It’s one of Clearbrook city’s greatest sources of pride. It hosts large international trips every year, as well as a national soccer tournament that gets players scouted by top colleges. It skyrocketed in fame once it had finally solidified its arts department, featuring its very own orchestra, and an auditorium down the street that falls under the school’s jurisdiction. Branded buses for sports and field trips line the edge of its staff parking lot, like how airplanes stand in rows to welcome wide swaths of passengers aboard. MFHS is a rectangular structure, three stories tall; as you could guess, one per grade. In the middle of the ground floor is the lobby and the main office, where visitors can converse with admin. On the second floor is the cafeteria, serving a weekly rotation of lunches made by the culinary students. The third floor is where people like to take pictures of themselves to post online, since it’s like a “free time” space; it's where the library is, as well as seating areas and even a little café that contributes to funding the massive range of extracurriculars here.
Behind the school are their soccer (football) and (American) football fields, both equipped with curved roofs to cover the stands in case of rain or snow. Of course, too much snow and the games are cancelled. To the right are the dorms, a motel-like structure housing up to three hundred students who choose the on-campus housing option. That isn’t necessary for me, since I live just a fifteen minute walk away from the school.
I’m aware of all this thanks to the hours I spent combing through their thick guidebook and picture-heavy website, as well as the social media accounts of current and former students. The school is sleek, modern, and way bigger than any other school I’ve seen; Suzy even called it a refurbished shopping mall. I’m just glad that the uniform wasn’t blue, like every other uniform tends to be. Our school colours are green, gold, white, and grey where necessary, so our uniforms reflect that.
Soon, the school is in view. The Canadian and Albertan flags fly high next to the large windows on the second floor. “Dr. Marta Frankenship High School” is written in large block lettering over the double doors. I cross the road to reach the sidewalk where dozens of kids are being dropped off by their parents. It’s easy to tell who’s in my grade and who’s not just by looking at which parents are hugging their children longer. I pop the last of my strudel into my hand, rubbing my fingers together to feel where its glazing had dried and crusted on my fingertips. Yikes, better find a bathroom.
Before I can move to enter the school, someone rams into me from my left.
“Ow!” I exclaim, righting myself before I hit the floor, “What the heck?”
“Ugh, I’m so sorry!” the mystery person replies, rubbing their arm.
This voice sounds familiar. I look up to see a shock of messy, blonde hair and instantly know that I’m staring at Freddy. The ire melts away and I feel pleasantly surprised instead.
“Yo, no way! I thought you said you wouldn’t be back until next week!”
We dap each other up when he’s done rubbing his arm, and he grins.
“Well, mom and dad thought school was too important, so we packed up and left a few days early.”
Freddy was living in the states for the past few years, and was to move back to Canada for high school. I never even remembered giving my phone number out to the North American Pen Pal Committee until we got in touch. We met through a randomized pen pal project his middle school hosted, where they were to figure out how to connect with someone they couldn't meet up with in person. Weird task, if you ask me, but it's how we know each other so I don't hold it against them. While most of his classmates forgot about their temporary friend, he and I stayed close well after the program's completion. I like to joke that I take half the credit for his A on the assignment.
After we exchange brief greetings, I remember that I’m trying to wash my hands.
“Hey, I need to wash my hands real quick, mind if we…?”
I gesture towards the school with my chin, and Freddy agrees.
“Let’s get this show on the road.”
…Cornball, I think, but I’m glad he’s here.
Suzan Rogers - August 30, 202X - 8:21 am
Peppa drags me towards a corner again, eyeing the map we got from one of the student directors. She's so neurotic she doesn’t even seem to hear me, so I just throw my hands up in frustration. I don’t mean to lose my temper, but sometimes it’s like she’s paranoid!
“Seriously, Peppa. We’re having orientation as soon as it's 9:00, what’s your freaking issue?”
She huffs and turns towards me, looking constipated.
“Dude, I didn’t realize the school would be this big! You were right, it’s like a mall!”
I roll my eyes at this, then I take a look around. We’re in the library on the top floor, next to a floor-to-ceiling window that gives us a breathtaking view of the city skyline. The sun’s warm rays outline the edges of the tall buildings of downtown, and reflect off the cars stuck in the traffic we managed to escape. I was just making a joke, but this school really is like a mall, with classrooms that mimicked stores.
“Listen,” I start, turning towards my friend, “Rebecca said she’s almost here, and Danny’s definitely here already. He basically has a map of the school in his head, he’ll help you find things. How about we go downstairs and wait for them and not worry about where the fucking washrooms are like normal people, ok?”
Peppa puts the map down to stare at me for a moment, then frowns.
“...Sorry, Suzy, I guess I’ve been pretty annoying. Let’s wait for the others.”
I feel a pang of guilt when I hear her dejected tone. It’s not like me to snap at her. I suppose the stress is getting to me as well.
“No, I’m…” I start, then I decide to just shift the conversation, “I think the cafeteria is selling hot chocolate or something. Do you wanna stop by there?”
At the prospect of hot chocolate on a chillier-than-average morning, Peppa brightens. It's amazing how quickly she's willing to forgive and forget my harsh tone, which is being let out more and more as of recently. I have it under control, I swear!
“Sure, Suz, I’d love some!”
As I thought, cups of frothy, sweet hot chocolate are waiting for us on the counter, for a dollar each. I use my card, while Peppa hands the worker a loonie. Why didn’t she just tap her card? Peppa catches my confused look and grins as we leave the front of the line.
“I didn’t wanna wrench my card out of my wallet, so I gave her what I had in my pocket.”
“You have coins in your pocket?” No one keeps physical cash around these days.
Peppa just shrugs as she sips on her drink.
“Hey, this is nice! I thought it’d just be water and hot chocolate powder!” she exclaims, holding the cup up as if she’s imagining a logo on it.
“Yeah, I guess this school is so rich that it can afford to put milk in its welcome bribes.”
We share a knowing smirk before I hear a ding from my phone. Picking it up, I see a text from Rebecca; she’s inside the school!
“Peppa, Becca’s here!”
“Shoot!” she yelled, hustling towards the nearest staircase, “let’s go then!”
She’s always been the little leader of our group. Even as a child, I remember trailing after her in everything we did. She seemed to leave a glowing trail of light in her wake, like her unbound energy flowed out and formed an aura around her, turning her into a radiant spectacle. I don’t know where I’d be without her. As she flies down the steps, bright and awake despite the early hour, I follow behind her like I always do.
Fredrik Solberg - August 30, 202X - 8:29 am
I put my phone back in my pocket when Danny steps out of the washroom, shaking his hands.
“Those hand dryers do not work.” he states, huffing about his wet hands.
“When have they ever?” I respond, smiling.
He just rubs his hands on his vest, then puts them on his hips as he looks around. I do the same, wondering where we should go. I've barely just begun to map out the layout of this titanic building. Now, we're in a hallway lit by fluorescent lights that surprisingly don't flicker. I seriously wish this space had skylights like the top floor, so I could at least work in natural lighting. Suddenly, Danny's hand grips my elbow.
“Hey, I’m supposed to meet up with some other friends right now. Do you have anything to do?”
“Uh, no,” I offer, “mind if I come with?”
Danny nods his head, brightening.
“I was gonna ask! That’s great, come on!”
We walk towards the front, where his friends are supposedly waiting for us. Along the way, I peer into the various classrooms that line the hallways. There’s a science classroom, where a periodic table on the wall has a picture of a teacher’s face on it. I also see paintings in front of the art classroom, as well as a canvas with the words “YOURS HERE” scrawled on it.
“By the way, are you rooming here?” Danny asks, turning towards me. I’m about to put an airpod in, but I tuck it back into its case.
“Like, dorms?” He nods, and I answer him. “Yeah, it’s the whole reason my parents were confident enough to come back to Canada earlier. I can just chill there while they worry about the other stuff.”
“Sweet!” he responds, “Roomate?”
“Uh, one second…”
I swing my backpack over one shoulder and open the zipper to dig for my schedule. I find the paper crumpled next to my calculator. As I’m unfolding it, Danny leans over my shoulder to see my classes and dormitory details.
“Who’s Pedro?”
“How exactly would I know?,” I shoot back, and close my backpack. My schedule stays in my hand. I noticed others carrying theirs around with them, so I might as well.
Before long, we’re at the front, where the sunlight streams into the building by way of the glass architecture of the entrance. There's small groups of teens standing around with their own cliques here. Danny waves his hand, but we’re too far away for me to tell who his friends are. I’m about to start walking towards a group of guys near a potted plant, but a girl standing with her own group catches Danny’s eye and waves back. Unfamiliarity bubbles up in my chest.
Seriously? They’re all girls?
“Danny!” the one with curly hair tied into a ponytail cries, bounding over and throwing her arms around his neck. He catches her easily, careful to put his hands around her back and not her waist.
“Hey, Peppa!” he laughs, patting her back.
The other two come over as well; the taller one has brown hair cut into a choppy bob, while the blonde one probably has more freckles than there are grains of sand in all the beaches on America's east coast. The blonde is busy talking with the first girl – Peppa – and Danny, but the brunette has noticed me. She eyes me with a careful, cautious gaze that feels somewhat unnerving.
“Hey, what’s your name?” she asks, stepping towards me and holding out her hand.
“Uh,” I stutter, “I’m Freddy. You?”
I take her hand to give her a firm handshake, and she smiles in return.
“Suzy. Nice to meet you.”
“Danny, I didn’t know you could make friends,” said the blonde girl, eyeing me, “are you paying his parents?”
Danny just raises his hands in defeat, smiling. He shakes his head before setting his hands down, one on my shoulder.
“This is Freddy, my friend from the states. Freddy, this is Peppa, Suzy, and Rebecca!”
He gestures to the first girl, the brunette, and the freckled girl in order. I wave back, glad to have names to put faces to.
“Hey, nice to meet you.”
“I know Danny said you were from the states,” Rebecca starts, “but which one?”
“New York,” I answer, to which they nod approvingly at.
Suzy prods, “New York City?”
When I nod to confirm her answer, she turns to her friends with a proud smile on her face. Rebecca doesn't meet her eyes, though. She steps closer to me instead.
"That's so sick! I'm from Cali!"
"Wait, really?" I ask, suddenly interested, "I've never actually been!"
Rebecca raised her eyebrows impossible high at my admonition. I'm then bombarded with a lengthy spiel about how it was back in San Francisco, and how I should definitely visit Los Angeles and Hollywood and the beach and did I mention Hollywood? I find myself fully engaged for a solid ten minutes, absorbing point after tip after review about the east coast life. The others somehow find the space to chime in about their origins, which I keep in mind, too. Just as the number of groups of teens in the lobby grows from five to twenty, Danny claps me on the back to get our attention.
“We should probably head to where we should for orientation.”
The others mutter in agreement and take their schedules out to figure out which classroom to get to. We have to find our first block classrooms and meet with a student leader or a teacher for attendance. Then, they’ll brief us on general expectations and give us an overview of some events and team tryouts happening soon. After the briefing comes… whatever else is planned that they didn’t think to put on our schedule sheets. I’m going to classroom 010 with Suzy. Once we say our goodbyes – including getting my number added to the girls’ phones – we’re off.
“I’m glad to have a familiar face in AP English!” Suzy begins, pausing her inspection of the large staircases to look at me.
“Yeah, honestly, my biggest fear was getting here and knowing no one.”
“You know Danny, though,” she easily counters, as if she's known me as long as the others. What I'd give to not be sweating buckets at the prospect of talking to a stranger like I am right now. I shrug, trying not to stare at someone who’d spilled red juice all over their white uniform shirt.
“Y’know, someone other than Danny, since we’d confirmed we had no classes together until next semester.”
Suzy makes an “O” shape with her mouth, nodding. Then, she pulls out her phone just as I look away.
“Just editing your contact so I know who you are. Freddy, right?”
Even as she asks, she changes my contact from the default phone number to my name on her phone.
“Yeah, that’s me. Oh hey, we’re here.”
Classroom 010 looks like any other English classroom; there’s grammar posters on the wall, and desks in groups facing each other. On each desk is a small piece of paper with a name on it, so I part ways with Suzy to find mine. I sit down next to a guy with an airpod in one ear, scrolling mindlessly. I take that as my cue to pop my own out, but before I can, the teacher at the front is clearing her throat to get our attention. Dang, I just want to listen to music!
“Hello everyone!” she brightly exclaims, as I tuck my airpod back in its case for the second time that morning, “Welcome to Dr. Marta Frankenship High School! I’m sure this has been such a big change from junior high…”
Already, I’m tuning her out and taking a look at my classmates instead. Some are blinking away sleep, and others are busy whispering to each other or reading the posters. Suzy is sitting like there’s a rod in her back, her full attention on the teacher. I fight the urge to giggle at her ridiculous stance. She’s funny without meaning to be.
“... I know it said to go through the slideshow first, but I'd like to begin by letting us get to know each other! Please introduce yourselves to the table with your name and birthday, let’s see if we can remember some things about our friends this morning.”
Sighing heavily, I turn towards the rest of the people sitting there. The guy next to me looks like he’s just about ready to fall asleep. The girl across from me really is asleep, and the last dude is ripping the skin off his lips with his teeth. Ouch…
Skin-ripper-offer clears his throat before speaking.
“So, my name is Jude, and I was born on October 4.”
We mutter quiet, awkward “nice to meet you’s” before the guy next to me speaks up.
“Jamie. January 17.”
This is going swimmingly…
“I’m Freddy, and… July 6,” I spit out before the next round of greetings occur. The chatter in the room swells, and the girl across from me is still asleep. Tentatively, I give her a little poke. She shoots up like a rocket, making all of us jump in alarm.
“Ugh… what- hi. What?” she mumbles, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. I glance to my right to see Suzy’s table deep in conversation, like they’re the best of friends. Before I can grumble to myself, Jude fills her in on the current task, while Jamie buries his head into his arms.
“Oh… Marci, March 24. Sorry about that…” she’s still rubbing her eyes, but she’s awake and smiling sheepishly.
“Don’t worry about it,” Jude offers, “it’s tiring here, for sure.”
Marci nods sleepily, and the teacher – Mrs. Thornsfeld – claps her hands to signal our attention. From beside me, Jamie pops his head up like a groundhog to listen.
We go over general etiquette relatively silently. The noise begins to pick up when Mrs. Thornsfeld reads over sports tryouts; I’m personally eyeing football. I guess I’ll be here after school two weeks from now. Suzy raises her hand to ask about the winter art exhibition, then one by one, more hands begin to raise as students get more comfortable in their surroundings. Even Marci wants to know about the cool soccer tournament. I make a mental note to ask Danny about that.
Too soon, we’re leaving the classrooms to take a tour of the school. My tablemates leave to find others, but Suzy is by my side again. I'm glad she didn't leave me for her new friends from earlier. When we pass by the same art classroom I saw with Danny, she takes a little longer to scan the paintings. I stop beside her, looking at some avant-grade sunflowers.
“Interested?” I ask, remembering her earlier questions about the art exhibition.
“Yeah,” she replies, staring down the same sunflowers I am, “I’m definitely an arts girl.”
“That’s cool,” I say, “Are any of your friends…?”
I trail off when she glances at me, then at the rest of the group leaving us behind. She responds when we’re jogging to catch up.
“No; Peppa’s more of a math person, and Rebecca’s dead set on... money, l guess. I like being the artsy one, though.”
“Oh yeah? What’s the benefit?”
Her smile is confused as she looks at me, then more relaxed as she spots a stained glass window shining colourful sunlight onto the ground below. She stops under it, looking positively rainbow. The green light catches on her short hair, while her cheeks are purple and red. Speaking of red cheeks… mine are feeling too warm for comfort. I turn away, but still, I stand close. She smells like a vanilla cupcake. Usually, gourmand scents like that are too strong for my sensitive nose, but hers is just right.
“What if I just like it, Freddy? What’s it to you, anyways?”
Suzy stares at me with questioning eyes. Now, it’s my turn to answer.
“Uh… no reason. Just asking, y’know. Let me rephrase, then.”
I turn to walk with the group, leaving her to catch up by herself this time. Once she’s by my side, I ask: “Why do you like art?”
She thinks for a moment, watching as a couple ahead of us play-fight.
“Well, my grandma is straight-up an artist, so there’s that. Also, art is just fun! For the most part, I get to play by my own rules and control what I do with my time. I used to want to be a nurse, but my reason was 'helping people.' It really doesn't get more uninspired than that. With the creation gig, I get the power of creativity, and best of all, full control. That’s what I need.”
She looks down at her feet when she admits that last part, and immediately, I regret even asking. Desperate for something to erase the tension, I scan my surroundings.
“Suzy, look,” I quickly say, pointing to a croissant stand. She follows my gaze, lightening up at the sight of freshly baked pastries. We head on over and get one each, joining the others before anyone even notices that we’re gone. She giggles quietly as she eats her croissant. At this point, I’m not even focused on the food. I’m busy watching her every move. We walk in silence until free time is announced, and we’re free to explore on our own as long as we don't go upstairs. Danny eventually finds us, so we’re sitting on the steps of the western flight of stairs, deep in conversation.
“Then, he turned around to show me the skyline, but ended up falling into the pool instead!” Danny exclaims, Suzy covering her mouth as she laughs. My ears are burning when I tuck my face into my hands.
“That’s hilarious!” she exclaims, at the same time as my embarrassed groan.
Once she catches her breath, Danny springs another question on her.
“Are you in the dorms?”
Suzy sobers up to think about it, then shakes her head, brown locks of hair bouncing.
“No, actually. I tried, but you know my mom.” She shrugs, and Danny hums in agreement. Suzy’s and Danny’s phones ping at the same time, and they check together.
“Oh,” Danny begins, “I guess Peppa wants to know where we’re sitting for lunch.”
“The classrooms are open, right?” Suzy inquires, “Let’s chill in room ten, AP LA.”
Danny’s already typing out a reply to their group chat, and leans into Suzy’s shoulder to show her his screen. They laugh in tandem. I try to ignore the budding feeling of… something in my chest when I see them so close. I look down at my uniform, adjusting my tie and sweater to hide my discomfort. This is silly. Why am I bothered? Of course they’re close, they’ve been friends since forever. Still, I can’t help but feel left out. I know because of what’s happened to me, I get sensitive about these things. My awkwardness is getting to me more than it is to them. I promised myself that this would be the year I find better friends, and finally let go of this constant, suffocating weight on my mind. This won’t end like last time. It can’t.
I don’t think I can take that.