As his alarm rudely woke him out of his fitful sleep, Andrew turned it off and got out of bed. He rubbed his bleary eyes and walked down the hallway to the bathroom. He splashed water on his face and stared at himself in the mirror. Dark circles were under his eyes and he felt as old as he appeared.
Meeting his sister in the kitchen, she asked tiredly, “Did you sleep well?”
“Not so much,” Andrew admitted as he took in her puffy eyes and red nose.
“It will probably just take a while for us to get used to this place.” Angela gave him a timid smile and sniffled slightly as she spoke. Andrew attempted a weak smile in return, but he quickly gave up as a loud grating sound cut through the silence.
“What’s that awful noise?”
Andrew took a step away to peer out at the living room. He saw Uncle Billy stretched out on the sofa, fast asleep, and snoring as loud as a lawn mower. Beer bottles were scattered around the couch.
Andrew recalled every morning before school when he would go to the kitchen and his mother would have their breakfast and pre-packed lunch ready for them. Their father would be heading off for work, but would greet each of them and ask how they were doing. Obviously, he would not be experiencing anything like that here.
“Billy’s asleep,” Andrew surmised in response to Angela’s questioning face as he walked back into the kitchen.
“I can make breakfast,” Angela offered.
Knowing Angela was trying her best to make light of things, Andrew gave a half smile and said, “That would be great. I guess I can make it for us tomorrow, and I suppose I can scrounge for lunch food too”.
Finding food for breakfast and lunch proved daunting. Billy’s cupboards were generally full, but full of miscellaneous foods obviously found at a dollar store. The no-name brands and questionable ingredients were off-putting, but they did not have much room to be picky. Angela found a half box of some stale “O” grain cereal and some overly ripened oranges for breakfast, while Andrew made sandwiches with white bread, bologna, and cheese.
When they were done preparing food and eating, they quickly did the dishes and got ready for school.
They rushed outside and waited for the bus by the curb, the cool October breeze a fresh contrast to the warm stuffy air in the house. It was an awkward wait. Billy’s neighborhood was definitely seedy. Just two houses down, there was a group of teenagers doing some kind of “exchange”. All of the houses looked as dilapidated and ill-maintained as their uncle’s.
Andrew and Angela felt very conspicuous and knew they were both drawing stares from neighbors visible or invisible. Andrew wore a solid blue polo shirt and nice khaki pants, as he was accustomed to at his old school. His sister wore the same. The previous night, Billy had mentioned they would be starting school the following morning and that they needed to be out front on the curb waiting for the bus to pick them up. He had been pretty adamant about that. “You guys better be on time for that bus, because I’m sure not going to be your chauffeur. You better behave and learn whatever it is you are learning…then again, take your time, you can stay there as long as you need to!” He had laughed pretty hard at his own private joke. Andrew and Angela were learning fast to avoid him.
As the white school bus came down the road, they noticed the flaking paint on the sides, and the school’s name: Grove Public High School.
Andrew and Angela exchanged worried looks. Public school? Andrew shrugged at his sister. “I guess everything in our life is changing, huh?”
The bus stopped in front of them and the door retracted open.
“All aboard,” the burly male bus driver joked. He waved a tattooed arm and motioned for them to hurry up.
Andrew allowed his sister to climb up the stairs first, and he then followed closely behind. A mildewed smell was in the air, similar to what one might expect in a locker room.
Students were lounging in the benches on either side of the bus, which was nearly full. An empty bench near the back seemed one of very few options.
With each step down the aisle, Angela noticed that the guys were mostly wearing baggy jeans and faded t-shirts, while the majority of girls wore low-cut tops and short skirts.
Andrew noted the mixed expressions on some students’ faces as they passed them, and might have heard someone comment about him and his sister wearing the exact same thing.
The ride to school was a little awkward, and neither of them felt fully comfortable. A couple kids kept turning in their seats to stare at them. Andrew wished that Uncle Billy could have driven them to school, but he had forewarned them that most mornings he would not be available.
So he could sleep in, Andrew thought, after watching TV so late each night.
When the bus neared the public high school, Andrew saw kids skateboarding on the parking lot and others rollerblading and grinding the handrails. The school wasn’t impressive, but it was decently maintained. The gray industrial-looking building was several stories high with wide staircases leading to each level. Nearby at the adjacent athletic fields, there were groups of students doing a variety of sports. As he looked around at the students, Andrew realized one important thing.
There was no dress code.
At the very least, the dress code was not strict, it appeared.
Andrew and his sister were the only students that were wearing khaki pants and solid blue shirts.
As the bus pulled up to the curb, students began to file out. One good looking boy slipped by Angela and gave her a roguish smile causing her to blush deeply. Andrew glared at him, but he ignored Andrew and kept on his way. Angela soon stepped onto the sidewalk, and Andrew followed close behind.
“I hope your classes go well today,” Andrew said uncomfortably to his sister.
“Thank you,” she replied obviously flustered and nervous. Angela was still new to the high school experience having only attended her Catholic high school as a freshman for several weeks before the accident. “I better figure out where I am supposed to go first. See you after school.”
They walked up the main set of stairs and soon entered their new school.
Andrew glanced at the number beside the doorway: 402.
He looked down at the paper in his hand and saw the same number next to the word Homeroom. Upon entering, he quickly took a seat in the center of the brightly lit classroom, and placed his backpack under his desk. The teacher was at the front of the room writing his name, ‘Mr. Carlisle’ on the chalkboard. He looked to be in his early fifties, with graying hair, and clear blue eyes.
The bell rang and the teacher then said, “Mr. Jensen, can you please stand up?”
All the students in the room looked around, and then stared at Andrew. He saw their questioning, judging eyes, and his heart began to beat faster. Never one for being in the spotlight, Andrew had to force himself to stand.
“Would you please come up here and introduce yourself to the class?” Mr. Carlisle asked.
With a deep breath, Andrew walked up to the front of the classroom and stood beside the teacher’s desk facing the sea of unfamiliar faces.
“Hello,” he muttered quietly, “I’m Andrew Jensen. I just transferred here—”
“Where from?” a darker skinned male student asked from the back of the room.
“St. Peter’s Catholic High School,” he replied with reservation.
“That explains the uniform,” the student said before snickering. The room tittered.
Mr. Carlisle snapped out, “Mr. Dunlap, keep your comments to yourself. And kindly force yourself to act more like an adult and less like a juvenile delinquent.”
“Yes sir,” he responded, a grin still on his face.
“Please continue,” the instructor said. “What are some of your interests? And a little louder please, not all of us have hearing devices”. The room tittered again even as Mr. Carlisle gave a sweeping glare.
Andrew hurriedly thought for a moment then rushed out with, “We
ll, I like soccer, reading books and spending time with my family.”
Upon saying family, a sudden sadness returned. Andrew crinkled his brow as he recalled that night in the car with his parents. No more family. And it is my entire fault.
“Can I please sit down now?” Andrew whispered to the instructor feeling sick to his stomach.
“Aren’t you going to tell the class why you moved here? Or why not tell us about your family?”
Andrew fought back tears. Those cursed tears he figured he would never shed again. “I would really like to sit down now.”
“Of course,” the instructor said with concern and uncertainty as he saw Andrew’s tortured face.
“Thank you,” Andrew whispered, the relief evident in his voice.
The teacher then stood up and said, “Class, we all remember our first day at a new school, whether it was freshman year or later. Please give Andrew a warm welcome and a round of applause”. He paused briefly to eye Dunlap before adding, “And no funny business.”
A few students clapped, while the rest just stared as Andrew returned to his seat.
The remainder of the class passed quickly with Carlisle giving an overview of the school primarily for Andrew’s sake. The bell soon rang again, and Andrew was quick to grab his backpack. He left the classroom before too many people could slow him down, and he disappeared into the crowd.
Angela entered a classroom and was about to sit down in an empty chair in the center of the first row, when someone towards the back motioned to her. She hesitated when she saw the blond haired girl in a frilly white top and short skirt. Part of her just wanted to sit down immediately and ignore the girl, but she was also interested in knowing what the girl wanted.
Passing by several students already seated, Angela walked up to the student and said, “Hello.”
“Well, hi,” the girl said with a wide smile. “You must be the new girl everyone is talking about. You’re Angela Jensen, right?”
“Yes,” she replied nervously. “And, what is your name?”
“Jessica Martin,” she said proudly, “I’m the head cheerleader. So, is it true what everyone is saying about you?”
Angela felt self-conscious, but still asked, “What are they saying about me?”
Jessica rolled her blue eyes and said, “Oh, don’t worry, it’s nothing bad. In fact, it would be amazing.”
Angela just looked at her with confusion.
“Well, according to people that heard you speak in your homeroom this morning,” Jessica began, “you are very passionate about dancing.”
Relief swept over Angela as she replied, “At my last school, I was part of a ballet club. I made it to the semi-finals.”
“That’s amazing,” Jessica said. “Angela, you are very talented. In fact, you might be just what we need.”
5