Frostbite

Aggressive is a word I don't think anyone would use to describe me but as I walked into Syren High School I knew that that would probably have to change. Well, maybe not aggressive but definitely not as wimpy. I'd have to find a way to make myself look bigger somehow. Not as girly. Not as much like a figure skater. Don't get me wrong, I'm proud of who I am but looking around at the big intimidating guys who could easily be mistaken as convicts, I realize that I could easily find myself being thrown into a dumpster or with my head freshly swirlied.

It got a little better as I ventured into the crowded hallways. I think I'd seen the biggest of them as I was walking in but the size of the males here is quite daunting. I did my best to keep my head down and myself out of everyone's way as I made my way towards what I hoped was the office to gather my schedule.

Jennie had promised to meet me there and show me around and I was currently asking myself why I didn't just meet her in the parking lot. This thought is violently shoved from my head as my body collides with a wall and a jock of some sort, if his jacket is any indication, snickers as he continues walking. I can't say it's never happened before but this time means more than any of the others ever did. This will be the school I graduate from. I hope to be well liked one day, not pushed into walls.

I sigh, knowing that this pipe dream will take a monumental amount of work, and continue on my way. It doesn't take too long and I'm soon walking into a good sized office.

A secretary looks up at me and plasters on an obviously far smile. I don't think she realizes I can tell it's fake so I smile back and explain my situation.

"Hello, I'm Micajah Stevens. I'm new and I was told to get my schedule here."

Her fake smile turns slightly into a real one and she holds out a piece of paper. "Welcome to Syren High. I hope you do good here. And good luck with your skating."

I thank her twice before retreating in a slight daze. How did she know about my skating? Had dad and Uncle Isaac said something when they were enrolling me? Or does she actually watch figure skating? Is that a coincidence or has everyone been told who I was and that I would be coming? And if that's the case, was it just the teachers or was it the entire student body?

A shiver rolls down my spine at the thought and I roll my shoulders to bring back that faux confident stance.

Jennie is walking through the door two seconds later and smiling when she sees me. "Hey Cage. Are you all ready?"

"No." I mumble. "But I guess I don't have a choice."

"Cmon, it's not that bad. You'll see." She insists, pushing the door back open and leading the way out into the significantly less crowded hallway. Jennie takes a quick look at the paper in my hands and smiles. "That's right across the hall from me. And that teacher is really nice, I promise. I had her last year."

"You took Creative Writing?" I ask, eyebrow raised.

"It was a highly recommended class." She shrugs, starting up a flight of stairs that are painted red. She's obviously an expert in heels because she doesn't even teeter the slightest bit in her four inch Prada's.

The closer we get to the classroom the more stares we get. A lot of people seem to know Jennie and are obviously wondering who I am. If the rest of the day is spent like this then I will certainly be out of my comfort zone.

Jennie points to the right door and promises to meet me back out here after class before disappearing into her own classroom. Taking a quick deep breath, I roll back my shoulders and step inside.

The classroom itself is crowded and the students are loud and animated but the second I step in, the bell rings and everyone settles down. Almost half the class notices me and blatantly stare while the other half is either oblivious or ignoring me. Self conscious thoughts break through my head and I try my best not to let it show. The teacher finally looks up from what she was writing on the board and notices me, waving me over with a smile.

"You must be Micajah." She greets. "I'm Miss Vickerson. Welcome to Creative Writing."

"Thank you. And if it's easier for you, you can call me Cage." I smile.

She nods and hands me a spiral notebook. "This is meant for your warm ups which is written on the board before class every morning. You can have a seat behind Juliet. I'll spare you the awkward self introduction."

Miss Vickerson points me to one of the only empty desks and I sit with a relieved sigh. "Class, Cage is our new student and I expect that you treat him with as much respect as you treat me."

That receives a chorus of yes ma'am's and almost everyone returns back to their work. Everyone except for the girl in front of me, Juliet I believe.

"You're the guy I saw the other day! I told Benjamin you were older than pedo age! So you're the new kid?" She inquires.

"I suppose."

"Aw, you're super cute up close."

"I'm gay."

"Oh! No, I didn't mean it like that." She laughs. "But nice to know. I have a friend who's gay. He doesn't look gay or seem gay because he's a sarcastic smart-ass the size of a Sasquatch, but he is. Extremely gay, actually."

"Nice to know." I answer with a smile, mimicking her.

She smiles and nods. "I like you already. Am I allowed to have two gay friends? Is there a limit? Whatever, I don't care, you're too cute to pass up!"

"Juliet, turn around and do your work." Miss Vickerson warns. Juliet's eyes widen slightly and she offers another wide smile before doing as she's told. I bite my lip and decide that if everyone is like her, I wont have as hard of a time here than I thought.