I walked up to the principal’s office, my heart pounding from excitement. I opened the door, and inside I saw a teen about my age with shaggy, dirty blonde hair and dark eyes, so dark they looked black.

    “Is this a bad time?” I asked the receptionist.

    She motioned for me to come in. “No, sir. Yash, is it?”

    I nodded.

    “Mr. Holzer, here, will be your fellow janitor. Mr. Holzer-” she turned back to the teen. “will show you around.”

    Mr. Holzer nodded. I followed him out into the hallway.

    “I’m Yash Laar.” I held out my hand.

    He shook it. “Vaso Holzer.”

    “So,” I said, “where do I go?”

    Vaso shrugged. “Try Mrs. Heath’s classroom.” He pointed down the hall. “Heard her ceiling was dripping.”

    I nodded. I figured I could fix it. I walked to the classroom with a light step. No one knew my past, and it would stay that way. I would get a new start.