Alistair.

Monday |

Scanning the crowded hallways bursting with students, I realised that there was no way I was going to find my classroom amidst this dizzying frenzy. I also realised this was going to be a norm for my weekday life five days a week, four weeks a month, twelve months a year. I gulped, cluelessly moving down the hallway, shoving my hands deeper into the pockets of my ripped jeans. These hands which had a mind of their own fifteen minutes ago; which held her fragile hands in them in a moment of candour. I was never one to put on a facade; neither was I an open book. I was who I seemed, but I had layers I did not unravel for the world to see. Layers that Kylar had somehow skilfully discovered, that I was surprised I didn't mind. She brought along with her healing, although I knew she too had scars of her own.

But Kylar was different. She wore a mask; she hid her past. Everything she did with careful deliberation and thoughtful intent, as if calculating a never-ending sum which was her life. I wondered if she put on a different mask in school. Even then, something about the way she moved and thought was undeniably beautiful in a bittersweet way, and I found myself falling for her harder than I thought was possible.

Room 2407, finally.

Relieved that I had managed to find my way to class on time, I strode into the classroom, a vibe of impassive boredom emanating from the walls like warmth from a heater. Like the ones we had in our home back in Colorado, where there was snow, so much snow. A wave of mournful yearning washed over me, leaving me reeling from the throbbing pain in my heart. I tried to keep my face neutral and emotionless, unwilling to let my sorrow get the better of me. Not that anyone really cared; all the students were clustered in anti-social groups, scrolling through tumblr or sleeping. Seeing that the only empty seat was the one at the far back of the class right next to the bin, I sighed, making my way there.

Resting my head on my hand, I looked around at the half-dead mass of people around me, clearly deprived of sleep. Why is our education system so messed up?

"Clearly because they don't give a shit about us." I looked up, startled.

"Wait, did I say that out loud?" I was pretty sure it was just an internal monologue.

"Uh, duh. Do I look like I read minds?" A look of incredulous surprise all over her face, a girl with lightly curled blonde hair replied.

She then sashayed to her seat, a couple desks in front of mine.

I sighed. This was not going well. The first thing I did was to make myself look like a demented confused greenhorn with absolutely no mental filter whatsoever. Talk about lasting first impressions.

The girl with blonde hair exaggeratedly told her deskie what had just happened. He turned around, smirking at me with a face that pretty much said what an idiot. I tore my gaze away from his belittling eyes, a mild anger building up inside me. I didn't exactly like making sweeping judgements of people, but avoiding contact with this duo seemed like the rational thing to do.

Just then, the teacher entered the class. The classroom ambience instantaneously went down ten notches, and the impassivity that was present moments ago suddenly felt like enthusiasm. I looked at the teacher and understood why the class reacted that way. Long, greasy hair pulled back in an obnoxious ponytail revealing a very oily forehead, this middle-aged man seemed to think he was still nineteen going on twenty with his statement Tshirt and ripped jeans.

"Yo guyzz, how was da weekend?" His voice sounded like the mix between the bleat of a goat and a blender. I can't believe they let this guy teach.

Silence filled the room, and the sound of the blondie's deskie shuffling his feet out of boredom was oddly deafening.

"Well, I guess it was rad af!" I could feel my brain internally face-palming itself against my skull. How was I going to survive a year of this? It wasn't even mildly funny, let alone cool. It was pure. Uncomfortable. Awkwardness.

"So, we have a new student among us today! Alistair Siege ammirite? Com'on up here and introduce yourself!" Don't gag, don't gag.

I did my best to wipe the agony off my face as I dragged the two boulders of my legs to the front of the class. Some had looks of pity on their faces; most were indifferent.

"Hi. I'm Alistair Siege and moved here a couple weeks ago." I didn't quite want to say more about myself, especially since it would draw me close to sharing about where I was from, and ultimately I would have to reveal why I came. Standing tall and surefooted, I looked at Billy Goat, to see if I could return to my place next to the dustbin.

"Would'ya like to tell us more about yourself? Why'dya move, ya'know?"

I was really resisting the urge to roll my eyes at this point in time. Never has a human being inflicted such annoyance to me in such a short span of time, his mere demeanour was enough to make me throw up. And now he was asking me this? I know I shouldn't be hating on him so irrationally, but the fact that he was pretty much irritating from the start followed by that question; it was too much to bear. I stayed silent, making eye contact with the heads of my worn out sneakers.

"Alistair, you know we have all day to wait don't we? Does it take that much effort to open'ya mouth and form audible noises we like to call words? I don't think so, so would'ya hurry up already?"

I really couldn't bring myself to say anything. Just when I thought things were going to get worst, Blondie came to my rescue.

"Just let him be Mr Fumblot." She said in a bored tone that somehow encompassed conviction.

So that was his name. How befitting.

I gave her a grateful smile, to which she grinned half-heartedly in response. Maybe she isn't all bad.

"Alrighty then Alistair head back to your seat. Class get into groups of threes and read through page 76 of Poetry for Mankind."

I heaved a sigh of relief before heading back to my seat. Looking around, everyone had already fallen into groups, and I felt a little lost and unsure of what to do.

"Hey, Alistair right? You can join us." I looked in front of me and saw Blondie's deskie beckoning for me to go over. Part of me was really grateful that they bothered to include me, the new kid, but another part felt somewhat unsure if they were genuine. What if they just wanted to make a fool of me, seeing from the fact that they were laughing at my stupidity earlier on? In any case, I resolved not to slip up again, grabbing my poetry text and walking over to their desk.

"Hey, thanks for helping me there." I said to Blondie, who gave me a small smile.

"Don't sweat it. Mr Fumblot can be a real pain sometimes." She didn't seem to regard me with any disdain, and actually spoke with an inkling of kindness.

"You're really queer, speaking without realising it and remaining silent when you're supposed to," her deskie said lightheartedly, and I was surprised not to hear any traces of ridicule in his words.

"I guess I am quite the klutz sometimes," I reply jokingly, relaxing a little.

We then proceeded to annotate the poetry text we were assigned, and to my surprise, they focused intently on the task at hand, unlike the others who were doing their own thing, not even bothering to flip open their books. I was glad that I joined them; they seemed to have a passion for poetry and an eye for hidden meanings. As we conversed deeply about what the poem could possibly mean, I found myself growing to like the easy rapport we formed. High school may not be that bad if I shared a few classes with them.

As the bell rang, we gathered our materials and I was getting ready to head back to my seat.

"Hey Alistair, what class are you having next?" Blondie asked with a grin.

"Chemistry."

"Wew that's great I'm having Chem too! See you later at lunch Jason!" Blondie piped in enthusiasm, and I was surprised by her warmth and candid bubbliness. Maybe I had misjudged her, she probably didn't think I was an idiot at all. Coming to know her a bit more, she was actually really friendly.

"Yeah, see you later Sophie! And you too!" Her deskie, whom I just found out was called Jason, waved to me with a kind smile, and I found myself doing the same.

"Hurry up with your stuff Alistair! Chemistry's a lesson you don't want to miss."

I arched an eyebrow in surprise, unsure of what to expect in our lesson to come.