A few days had passed, and I found myself slow to get out of bed in the morning. I never did call my big brother, Alexander. I was too nervous that he was in the middle of something important like a test or with a girl, and me calling him would be like a traumatizing emergency, where he would be in panic mode, and have to race home, or something. I didn’t want him to feel bad for me. So, I just stayed in me room. It was Friday morning, and I should feel happy because we were going to watch a movie in English class today. Most other people would be excited at not being able to continuing our usual lectures for the cinematic arts, but not me. I’m different. I like reading books. I love the old smell of dusty pages from the library that people have neglected to pick up.

E-readers are great too, but actual pages are like LSD to me. Well, I what I would presume LSD to be like. I have never actually done LSD. My friend Sam, who I sit at lunch with on occasion, said there were some people selling it at school. He called them, "stoners." They were selling all sorts of drugs. 

I got dressed, and brushed my teeth, after a quick class of almond milk. I wasn’t very keen on eating this week. I just wanted to read, and watch my shows this week.

I sat in the back of class today because Tai made us late again with screaming and whining that he didn’t want to go to school. I kind of wanted to whine about not going today too, but I didn’t want to burden my mother with another wailing child. She has been stressed from her job, and didn’t need any more stress at home.

Most of the people in the back are on the phones. I couldn’t concentrate at all in history  I stared out the window, dreaming.  

My next class was Spanish. I loved this class. We would always have some kind of food every week from a different Spanish speaking country. Today was Spain. The teacher had brought in some sweets from Spain. She served Spanish hot chocolate and churros she had made, and we practiced our conjugation of irregular verbs.

We had short stories to read for the weekend  and do a little summary paragraph in Spanish. The teacher is very impressed that I’m catching on to Spanish rather quickly. She is recommending me to take Honors Spanish next semester with the sophomores. Great. Another thing I excel at, and teachers take notice. Can’t I just enjoy something, and not have to worry about grades, and being competitive. I think that is why people dislike school because grades bog out minds down. I don’t know. I’m no psychologist or anything. However, I think if you make it enjoyable, and not pressuring people would learn more.

Yet here I am again enjoying something, and someone has to ruin it, by telling me to do more.

 Sam walked up to me at the end of Spanish class. 

"hey, what are you doing this week-end.?" he smiled in a charismatic way, like when politicians promise something, then do not deliver.

"I don’t know." I replied with a blank stare, and slight smile.

"Well you should ask your mom if you can spend the night tonight." He said flipping his hair from his eyes.

"Okay. I’ll ask."

With that, he left whistling a jaunty tune. I got up, and picked up my backpack, and went to the library for study hall after Lunch. The French teacher was still sick. There’s so many people at this new school. I was wondering what everyone was up to, and what everyone was thinking. I felt really out of place here. Everyone was so glamorous, and had plans for the week-end probably, and then there was me. I was dressed in a 5$ lime green t-shirt that came to my knees, and some dark blue jeans that were skinny with holes in them. My hair was not brushedt, and my glasses were thick rimmed.

I got to the library, and nestled into the couch, and pulled out my book, "Young Samurai" by Chris Bradford. I just started yesterday, and I was already halfway through the book. I was fading in and out of concentrating on reading, and imaging myself in feudal Japan. I think it would be cool to be living in feudal age Japan. Well as a son of Samurai or the Emperor’s son. It wouldn’t be fun to be a peasant’s son. I don’t think I’d have much time to read books with working in the rice fields, or casting nets to sell fish, or barely making it to survive. I drifted off to sleep on the couch.

When I woke up, I had missed my German class. I had eaten a protein bar in the hallway that I saved for later, and walked to my locker. Edward was there with Danielle and Chelsea. 

I saw Anna in the hall way. She was tall with thick rimmed glasses, and always wore a hat or a beanie. 

“Where were today? You missed German. “ 

“I fell asleep reading my book in the library. “ 

“Well, the teacher was pissed, and reported you to the office. “ 

I blushed even harder. "shit." I said quietly

"I hate that class anyway. He’s such a prick." I slammed my locker shut, and strutted off.

I was being truthful at least. The teacher is a prick. He’s senile for a middle-aged man, and hates things that are different from his worldview. He always has to be right. That’s why I like Literature. You can have an opinion, and you can be right. So long as you back it up with what is going on in the book. German should have been like that, but the teacher was too big on grammar, which made no sense at all to me. At least Anna was there to help me out when I need it. 

I went straight to my next class, which was social studies. We were talking about Mexico, and the drug cartels. Mainly the drug cartels, and one guy, Drew, I think was his name, talked all about how is friend does drugs, and how it cures his asthma. It was mainly just Drew monologue the entire 45 minutes of class, and the teacher, who is soft-spoken, trying to steer the conversation back to Mexico.

I text my mom to see if I can spend the night at Sam’s.

-No. You can’t you didn’t give me enough time. Maybe next weekend. -

-Seriously? -

-yeah seriously. -

-ugh. -

-sorry. We have something important to do this weekend. -

I didn’t respond. I just rolled my eyes, and took notes. I would have texted Sam, but I was being sitting in the front row in social studies.  

My mother picks me up last to go home. I don’t look at her, and tell her "fine, “when she asks me how my day was.

We make it home, and my brother’s car is in the driveway. My eyes widen, and I run into the house, and find my brother sitting on the couch eating ice cream. I run, and scream, "Brother!" I jump on him in a quick jolting bear hug.

Next Chapter: Chapter 3