I'm New to This

During my fateful first day at school, my dad had brought a mirror up into my room. I was grateful for this because I needed it in the morning while I got ready for my real first day at school.

So, I fiddled with my new, blue blazer as I stood in front of my mirror. It didn’t look right on me. It just didn’t.

I thought back to yesterday, to seeing all the kids mulling about. Not all had worn their blazers. Some had just worn their pull-over and slacks. I bit my lip, grabbing my piercing with my teeth and pulling it back. I was never one for blazers. Letting go of my piercing, I unbuttoned my blazer and threw it onto my lumpy new bed. I still wore my white dress shirt and navy blue tie. I reached down to my bed and picked up the grey pull-over sweater that I had lain there previously. I put it on over everything. At least now I looked okay. Like I was going to a band concert or something.

Now it’s just my jewelry I have to deal with. I wiggled my nose like I always do, and walked up close to my mirror to lean in. I flared my nostrils as I shimmied my blue semi-circle out of my nose. Releasing my breath afterwards, I stepped back and grabbed a plastic baggie, slipping my septum into it. Then I took out my lip piercing and put it into the baggie, too, followed by all my cartilage jewelry. I looked at myself in the mirror. Frankly, I looked holy. As for my gauges, I just put in flesh-colored plugs. I prayed it would go unnoticed.

I came down the stairs in a seemingly-exciting manner. It would seem as if I was excited for school, but the truth is I’m so nervous that I’m jittery and jumpy. Dad was eating cereal at the table, and he smiled up at me with his mouth full of cereal and laced with milk. I saw that he had set out a bowl for me, so I sat down dramatically and got myself some cereal.

“So, you’re always going to drive me to school, right? Like yesterday?” I asked out of the blue. My dad raised his eyebrows at me and cracked a sly smile.

“Do you want me to?”

“Well… yeah, I do.” He didn’t respond to this, waiting for me to continue. “I don’t really wanna, like, ride the weird bus thing. I mean, I don’t know anyone.”

“…Alright I’ll drive you until you make friends. And hey,” dad said, swallowing his mouthful, then pointing his spoon at me. “What happened to all the metal?”

“Oh, the lady told me it wasn’t allowed at school.” I said simply. He nodded and silently mouthed an ‘oh’.

“You ready to go?” he asked, getting up and putting away his dishes. I did the same.

I took a deep breath, taking up my backpack and swinging it over my shoulder. “Yeah, let’s go.”

- - -

I had my schedule in hand as I arrived at what I hoped was my first classroom. Biting my lip nervously, I stuck my head in the doorway. A few students talked in clusters around the room, boys and girls alike. At the front, facing the long tables that acted as desks, was a large desk with a teacher at it. Releasing my lip and praying that no one would notice little ‘ol me, I headed for the teacher. She looked up at me as I approached.

“Hi. I, um, I’m new. I just moved here.” I stated quietly. The woman seemed to think for a moment, before she gasped.

“Yes! Yes I was told there would be a new student.” she said, beginning to smile. I gave her a meek smile and sneaked a quick glance behind me. Not many students had changed what they were doing, but a few had noticed me. Gulping, I turn my gaze back to the teacher.

“Um, s-so… what do I, um, do?” I asked the teacher nervously.

“Well,” she began, straining her neck as to look around the room. “I reckon you’ll need a seat then?”

She smiled up at me, waiting for my response.

“O-okay,” I said feebly. She smiled and pointed towards the back corner of the room.

“There’s an empty seat near the window. You can sit there.” I began to turn away, then stopped, and turned on my heal to ask her another question.

“Am I allowed to have my back-pack with me?” I asked. She smiled once more and let out a breathy chuckle, finally nodding.

“Of course.”

I nodded to her quickly and shuffled my way to the back of the room. Setting my backpack next to my chair, I sat down. I scanned the classroom, checking if anyone was looking. Luckily, no one was. I let out my breath in relief, finally relaxing. I was glad that no one really cared.

Finally settled, and awaiting the commencement of class, I propped up my elbow and leaned against my arm, chin-in-hand. With nothing to do, I began to watch the classroom and examine the people. Every once in a while, a student would enter the classroom and sit down. I stuck to watching these new arrivals.

Suddenly, a boy entered the room but stopped in his tracks when he saw me. Surprised, I sat up straight and looked out the window, like as if I was staring at him and he caught me. Next thing I know, the boy sits down next to me. I keep my eyes trained on the window. That is, until I feel a tap on my shoulder.

I breath in a shaky breath and turn. Expecting my movement to replace the need to speak first, I don’t say anything. The thing is, the boy doesn’t speak either; instead he stares at me, his eyes darting frantically from one angle of my face to the next, with a thoughtful countenance. After so long of this, I decide it’s best to speak.

“Y--” but before I can continue, I’m cut off by his words.

“I’ve seen you before, do you remember?” he demands finally relieving his harsh, scrutinizing expression. I don’t really know what he’s talking about, but I don’t want him to dislike me, so I’m caught in between answering and not answering him. Before I can even pick one, though, he adds on more to his demand. “At the McDonalds, yeah?”

And for a moment, I look at him--that’s when it hits me. I have seen him before.

“Oh! Oh, you’re that boy! Who went by on the long board, right?” I asked once I’d realized.

Though, instead of confirming it, the boy just sort of stares at me with wonderment. Dropping the smile and the hope that I would make friends, I contemplated what I had said wrong.

“Can you say that again?” the boy suddenly asked me. Startled, I stared at him for a moment, unsure of what he meant.

“W-what?” I asked hesitantly.

“Will you speak once more?” he asks, and I just give him this look of totally confusion.

“Um.. Just say anything?” I ask uncertainly.

“Ah,” he says, beginning to smile very widely. “I thought were American!”

“Oh,” I said, beginning to blush like an idiot. “Yeah. I am.” Of course! Of course, you idiot, that's what he was talking about!

“Cool. I’m Liam.” he said casually. Then he quickly added “I sit here, in case you’re wondering.”

“I’m Felix.” I said, scratching my head in that always awkward way as I realize that my response killed the conversation. So, instead of trying to start it up again, I just sort of shimmy my body to face the front of the classroom.

After a second or two, I glance at the boy. I’m shocked to see that he’s looking at me with an expression that says he’s thinking hard. When he notices me looking, though, his expression changes to shock and he looks away, a little pink crawling onto his tan cheeks.

Just shrugging it off as the usual ‘oh no, they looked!’ kind of embarrassment, I turned my gaze back to the front of the classroom and, just as my luck would permit, the class seems to be beginning.