Alexander Pov
       I woke up, and walked into the living room.

"Put some pants on!" Martha chuckled.

"But Marthaaaa." I whined, sitting down at the breakfast table.

She handed me some bacon and said, "Pants."

I sighed and got up. I ran into Laf in the hall.

"Hey Alec. Woah what the fuck happened to your chest?" He asked.

"Language!" Martha called from the dining room.

"Yeah, I'm from France, so French!" He called back to her.

"The Caribbean happened." I muttered, glancing at my scars.

I walked into my room. I looked in the mirror that was above my dresser. There was a sticky note on it.
'You're doing great adapting here Son! I'll see you at school! -George'

Son.

I guess I am getting better at adapting. I can hold a solid conversation without flinching or stuttering. Sometimes. Basically with only Martha, George and Laf but I'm getting there.
It's better than before.

I put a black collared shirt on and a jacket over it and some black pants. (Think...Connor Murphy style)
I grabbed my ear buds and pulled them through my jacket. I wrapped one of them around my ear and the other actually inside my ear and put some music.

I grabbed my worn backpack and walked back into the dining room. Laf whistled at me. I rolled my eyes.

"Drive, walk, bus or bikes?" He asked.

"You have bikes?" I asked, slightly taken back.

"Yeah, Ill take that as wanting to ride bikes. Follow me."

I did as he said and he led me into the garage. Pretty soon we were riding down the street. He started rambling about something.

"Are you even listening?" He asked.

"Hmm?"

"Alec! Come on!" He exclaimed.

"Didn't you notice? I put my second earbud in like ten minutes ago!"

"Ugh. Whatever. We're here." He said.

Yeah. I realized. I know what a school looks like.

"What are you listening to?" He asked, putting his bike in the rack.

"Watsky. He's a really good rapper." I told him.

"Oh! I've heard of him. He's that one guy that John had a celebrity crush on in middle school." He said.

"No way! That's pretty funny. Watsky is frickin 31. And he's not even that hot." I muttered.

"Heh. Sounds like you know from experience." Laf said, nudging me.

"I was weird when I was 13!" I exclaimed.

Laf burst out laughing. I rolled my eyes. Someone grabbed my shoulder and turned me around.

"W-wha-"

I was cut off to be roughly kissed and pushed against the wall. I tried to push her off of me.

"Alec? Oh jeez Alec!" Laf exclaimed
pulling the girl off of me.

I immediately wiped my mouth off and said, "I'm going to go get some Erm..w-water." I lied.

I turned the corner and pulled my schedule out of my bag. It says where George's class is.
Room 237.
I shoved the paper in my pocket and walked to his class.

"Hey! Freshman! Whatcha doin in the senior hall?" Someone called after me.

"F-fuck off!" I called back.

"Oooh! Freshmeat is ballsy!" He said, grabbing my shoulder and turning me around.

"I'm a senior, Asshole." I growled.

"Nice. I saw you getting it on with Maria Lewis over there." He said.

"Who? Oh. That's her name. I don't know her." I muttered.

"Damn! That's cold! You made out with a girl and you don't even know her name?" He asked.

"N-no, no, no. I mean she threw h-herself on me. I wouldn't want that. I- I just...no." I muttered.

"What's with the accent bro?"

"Whats with your attitude, 'bro'?" I said, mimicking his voice.

"Ohhh, dang. You must not know who I am. Allow me to show you." He hissed, punching me in the jaw.

I went straight to my destination - the floor.
I pushed back onto my hands and knees. My ear buds dangled out of my jacket.

"I didn't want to do this." I murmured.

"What? What are you goin' do ya depressed, emo, ass?" He growled.

I tilted my head to the side.

"This."

I grabbed his leg, and jumped back to my feet. I pushed him back which made him fall to the floor.

"Next time, check who you're messing with southern motherfucker." I snarled.

I put my earbuds back in and heard him distantly call,
"You'll pay for this asshole!"