This Is The Dawning Of The Rest Of Our Lives
Chapter I - Many Meetings
BEEP ! BEEP ! BEEP !
I groaned and quickly put off my alarm clock before letting myself fall back into the pillow, trying not to fall asleep again. Two seconds later, my mother’s alarm went off and I groaned again.
After ages of beeping, when I’d told myself that if it would beep one more time, I’d get up to personally slam it against the wall, the sound stopped. I waited for my mom to get up, as I usually did. Surely enough, after a few minutes, there was a light knock on the door followed by my mother’s voice calling my name.
"I’m up!" I answered, annoyed.
Footsteps walked away from my door towards, by the sound of it, my little sister Tessie’s room. I’d never been much of a morning person. I slowly pushed the blanket off and got up to get ready for school. Hurray.
"Hey you," I smiled as I sat down next to Tessie, who was having some cereal.
I loved my little four year old sister and, knowing she loved it, I poured some more milk over her cornflakes. She looked at me with twinkly eyes.
"But mommy said…" she started in a loud whisper
"Shh!" I grinned, putting my finger to my lips, indicating her to be quiet.
"Mommy doesn’t know," I added mischievously. She glowed and concentrated on her breakfast again, after giving me a milky kiss on the cheek.
"Need some help?" a gentle voice came from behind me. I turned around and saw a pair of green, amused eyes look at me. The black haired boy nodded to my locker.
"Seriously, those things have something against humans. Especially this one," he said
"You gotta show them who’s in charge."
I looked at the boy, who chuckled.
"Let me…" he said, motioning me to step aside. I did. He moved closer and put up his hand, waving at the locker.
"Hey," he smiled "it’s me again, Billie Joe. Remember? Two years ago."
I couldn’t help but laugh at Billie Joe, as the boy appeared to be called, who was talking to my locker.
"No? You don’t remember? Okay…then I’m afraid I’ll have to remind you," he said matter-of-factly before kicking it. Hard. I giggled as the door flew open.
"There you are," Billie Joe smirked, stepping aside so I could put my stuff away.
"Thanks, Billie Joe," I said, furiously hoping that it really was his name. He grinned.
"No problem. Lockers fear me. If you have problems with the water fountain over there you’ll have to ask Tré though, the thing fucking hates me," he said with a chuckle.
"Well, see you around I guess," he added with a smile.
"Okay, thanks. Bye Billie Joe."
"Jessica Isar?" the teacher asked, going through the list of names to see if anyone was missing.
"Present," I answered, sticking up my hand and feeling slightly weird as everyone looked at me and started mumbling. It turned out that I was in the same class as Billie Joe the Locker Boy, or Armstrong. When I’d noticed him I quickly took place behind him for I knew no one else and he seemed nice enough. He was sitting next to a boy that was somewhat taller than him who, according to the name list, answered to the name Michael Pritchard.
The last name of the list was
"Frank Wright?"
I looked around to see if there was anyone responding. The only one who hadn’t been called yet seemed to be the boy behind me, but he showed no sign of recognition at all.
Billie Joe and Michael looked at him for a second and smirked. I was almost certain that it was him now, but I wondered why he wasn’t reacting if it was him.
"Frank Wright?" the teacher asked again, looking at the boy too now, just like the rest of the class. Frank however, seemed to be very interested in his nails for a while, and then started to tap a rhythm on the table.
"Frank Wright!" the teacher called, rather impatiently this time.
"Tré!" Billie Joe called suddenly, turning around to face Tré over my table.
Frank looked up.
"What is it, Billie?" he smirked, looking up and leaning forward over his table, stopping the rhythm.
"Frank, that’s enough!" the teacher said, slamming her hand on the table.
I was getting confused now, not knowing whether his name was Frank or Tré, as I’d hear Billie Joe, or Billie, as Frank–Tré had called him, say before.
"What is it?" he asked Billie again.
"Maybe you should…youknow…pretend your name is Frank," he chuckled
"Do I have to?" Tré, as I suppose he’s called now, whined.
"Just a suggestion…youknow just so they’ll leave you alone," Billie mumbled with a chuckle.
Tré sighed and slowly lifted his hand, waving at the teacher.
"Present," he yawned.
I chuckled a bit and looked at him. He smirked. I smiled a bit and turned around again, smiling to myself as the teacher started rambling about the new school year.
I groaned and quickly put off my alarm clock before letting myself fall back into the pillow, trying not to fall asleep again. Two seconds later, my mother’s alarm went off and I groaned again.
After ages of beeping, when I’d told myself that if it would beep one more time, I’d get up to personally slam it against the wall, the sound stopped. I waited for my mom to get up, as I usually did. Surely enough, after a few minutes, there was a light knock on the door followed by my mother’s voice calling my name.
"I’m up!" I answered, annoyed.
Footsteps walked away from my door towards, by the sound of it, my little sister Tessie’s room. I’d never been much of a morning person. I slowly pushed the blanket off and got up to get ready for school. Hurray.
"Hey you," I smiled as I sat down next to Tessie, who was having some cereal.
I loved my little four year old sister and, knowing she loved it, I poured some more milk over her cornflakes. She looked at me with twinkly eyes.
"But mommy said…" she started in a loud whisper
"Shh!" I grinned, putting my finger to my lips, indicating her to be quiet.
"Mommy doesn’t know," I added mischievously. She glowed and concentrated on her breakfast again, after giving me a milky kiss on the cheek.
"Need some help?" a gentle voice came from behind me. I turned around and saw a pair of green, amused eyes look at me. The black haired boy nodded to my locker.
"Seriously, those things have something against humans. Especially this one," he said
"You gotta show them who’s in charge."
I looked at the boy, who chuckled.
"Let me…" he said, motioning me to step aside. I did. He moved closer and put up his hand, waving at the locker.
"Hey," he smiled "it’s me again, Billie Joe. Remember? Two years ago."
I couldn’t help but laugh at Billie Joe, as the boy appeared to be called, who was talking to my locker.
"No? You don’t remember? Okay…then I’m afraid I’ll have to remind you," he said matter-of-factly before kicking it. Hard. I giggled as the door flew open.
"There you are," Billie Joe smirked, stepping aside so I could put my stuff away.
"Thanks, Billie Joe," I said, furiously hoping that it really was his name. He grinned.
"No problem. Lockers fear me. If you have problems with the water fountain over there you’ll have to ask Tré though, the thing fucking hates me," he said with a chuckle.
"Well, see you around I guess," he added with a smile.
"Okay, thanks. Bye Billie Joe."
"Jessica Isar?" the teacher asked, going through the list of names to see if anyone was missing.
"Present," I answered, sticking up my hand and feeling slightly weird as everyone looked at me and started mumbling. It turned out that I was in the same class as Billie Joe the Locker Boy, or Armstrong. When I’d noticed him I quickly took place behind him for I knew no one else and he seemed nice enough. He was sitting next to a boy that was somewhat taller than him who, according to the name list, answered to the name Michael Pritchard.
The last name of the list was
"Frank Wright?"
I looked around to see if there was anyone responding. The only one who hadn’t been called yet seemed to be the boy behind me, but he showed no sign of recognition at all.
Billie Joe and Michael looked at him for a second and smirked. I was almost certain that it was him now, but I wondered why he wasn’t reacting if it was him.
"Frank Wright?" the teacher asked again, looking at the boy too now, just like the rest of the class. Frank however, seemed to be very interested in his nails for a while, and then started to tap a rhythm on the table.
"Frank Wright!" the teacher called, rather impatiently this time.
"Tré!" Billie Joe called suddenly, turning around to face Tré over my table.
Frank looked up.
"What is it, Billie?" he smirked, looking up and leaning forward over his table, stopping the rhythm.
"Frank, that’s enough!" the teacher said, slamming her hand on the table.
I was getting confused now, not knowing whether his name was Frank or Tré, as I’d hear Billie Joe, or Billie, as Frank–Tré had called him, say before.
"What is it?" he asked Billie again.
"Maybe you should…youknow…pretend your name is Frank," he chuckled
"Do I have to?" Tré, as I suppose he’s called now, whined.
"Just a suggestion…youknow just so they’ll leave you alone," Billie mumbled with a chuckle.
Tré sighed and slowly lifted his hand, waving at the teacher.
"Present," he yawned.
I chuckled a bit and looked at him. He smirked. I smiled a bit and turned around again, smiling to myself as the teacher started rambling about the new school year.