High School Ain't So Sweet, Now, Isn't It?
The First Day Isn't Always Exciting.
Everything was supposed to be perfect. The sun was supposed to be shining brightly, birds chirping and everything in place. But even though that was so, the day wasn't as perfect as it seems.
High School... The day I'm starting my years in this place.
They say your years in high school are the best years in your life. Hopefully, it is. I don't want to get kicked around being bullied by my choice of music or such.
I stepped out of the bus, iPod playing Secondhand Serenade. I was alone in my little world, and was singing songs. It was like any ordinary day, except I don't get to go around the little suburban empire I live in and frolic with my Siberian Husky. I wasn't able to lock myself in the room, surfing the Internet, playing videogames or whatnot.
This day, I'll get shoved around.
Oh, what a great life I'll have.
I was almost late, and the bell rang just in time as I stepped in the classroom, filled with faces I could barely remember from my past experiences. All of them were sporting their own iPods, all wearing what's supposed to be 'in' nowadays.
I took a seat at the back of the room near the window, where sun was shining bright. It wasn't hot, just bright, and I loved it. I kept singing softly to the songs that played in my iPod, still happy that, at least, I can listen to my music. As if you forgot, the bell already rang.
But the teacher wasn't there. Until 30 minutes later.
A hook-nosed, middle-aged man with graying hair and thick glasses that posses a black frame entered the room. He wore a checkered polo shirt and slacks, his shirt tucked in high to his waist. With him was a stack of papers, seemingly 30 pieces, all supposed to be our... "Personal Information" sheets.
"Class, I'm Mr. Darwin Heethes, and I'll be your... ehem... homeroom adviser."
Oh no, here he starts talking about school...
"First, may I suggest that you take off your infernal contraptions stuck to your ears and listen to me?"
A few students groaned, and I hesitantly took off my earphones. Some students had their iPods at full volume, and didn't seem to hear any of what the teacher said. I doubt that they even heard him come in.
Mr. Heethes produced a piece of chalk from a box nearby and wrote on the board the words
"TAKE OFF YOUR iPODS", all in caps except for the 'i' part. The students removed their earphones and paid attention (or at least pretended to) at the teacher.
"Yes, thank you."
He cleared his throat.
"Again, I am Mr. Darwin Heethes, your homeroom adviser. Before we could discuss homeroom rules, regulations and such, I would like you to fill out the following forms."
He pointed at the stack of papers I mentioned earlier and started distributing it around.
I looked at the paper that landed on my desk.
"NAME:
AGE:
BIRTHDAY:
ADDRESS:
CONTACT NUMBER/S:"
The typical fare.
I filled in my form, starting with the name.
Zachary James Taylor
I continued scribbling the answers to the blanks until Mr. Heethes asked for the papers. He collected the documents and read some entries.
"Hmm... Zachary James Taylor..."
I gulped. What did he want?
"You have a distinct set of likes. Rock music? Videogames? Internet? Books? Well, I must say you're a pretty diverse one. Unique from the crowd. Good luck in fitting in."
Was that supposed to be a good piece of advice, a compliment or what?
He started droning on about the homeroom rules, but in my head revolved 30 Seconds to Mars, My Chemical Romance, Green Day, Secondhand Serenade and various other bands and singers that I happen to appreciate.
The bell rang. Break time. Good. Now I can... appreciate the fine food from the cafeteria. Hopefully, the school would be rich enough to have a pizza booth available. I almost stepped out of the room, when a hand reached for my shoulder and pulled. Painfully.
"What?!"
I looked around and saw this stranger, a girl. She was looking at me in a different sort of way, but I can't explain her motive, emotion or anything. She just was there, looking at my eyes, directly. She was sort of different, with cargo shorts and black Chucks, and an elbow-length white shirt and a vest that was like made of material from cargo pants. She had a fairly long hair, blonde, had wavy or curly hair [I can't seem to differentiate the two], and a face that told me that she had a hard attitude.
"You, Zac. You like rock music?"
This girl seemed weird and cool.
"Uhh.... Yeah."
Didn't she listen to Mr. Boring Teacher?
"Why'd you ask?"
"Nothing."
She started to walk away, and she felt like she's got a tough attitude.
"What's your name?"
I asked her. She turned around, her canvas checkered bag swiveling.
"Sam."
"Sam?"
"Yeah, Sam."
"Your full name, I mean."
She groaned.
"Samantha. Samantha Reese."
Samantha Reese? That's her name?
Samantha, or Sam, as she told me, walked away. She caught up with another girl, I presume her friend.
Ok, so that was a little random. What a boring first day...
High School... The day I'm starting my years in this place.
They say your years in high school are the best years in your life. Hopefully, it is. I don't want to get kicked around being bullied by my choice of music or such.
I stepped out of the bus, iPod playing Secondhand Serenade. I was alone in my little world, and was singing songs. It was like any ordinary day, except I don't get to go around the little suburban empire I live in and frolic with my Siberian Husky. I wasn't able to lock myself in the room, surfing the Internet, playing videogames or whatnot.
This day, I'll get shoved around.
Oh, what a great life I'll have.
I was almost late, and the bell rang just in time as I stepped in the classroom, filled with faces I could barely remember from my past experiences. All of them were sporting their own iPods, all wearing what's supposed to be 'in' nowadays.
I took a seat at the back of the room near the window, where sun was shining bright. It wasn't hot, just bright, and I loved it. I kept singing softly to the songs that played in my iPod, still happy that, at least, I can listen to my music. As if you forgot, the bell already rang.
But the teacher wasn't there. Until 30 minutes later.
A hook-nosed, middle-aged man with graying hair and thick glasses that posses a black frame entered the room. He wore a checkered polo shirt and slacks, his shirt tucked in high to his waist. With him was a stack of papers, seemingly 30 pieces, all supposed to be our... "Personal Information" sheets.
"Class, I'm Mr. Darwin Heethes, and I'll be your... ehem... homeroom adviser."
Oh no, here he starts talking about school...
"First, may I suggest that you take off your infernal contraptions stuck to your ears and listen to me?"
A few students groaned, and I hesitantly took off my earphones. Some students had their iPods at full volume, and didn't seem to hear any of what the teacher said. I doubt that they even heard him come in.
Mr. Heethes produced a piece of chalk from a box nearby and wrote on the board the words
"TAKE OFF YOUR iPODS", all in caps except for the 'i' part. The students removed their earphones and paid attention (or at least pretended to) at the teacher.
"Yes, thank you."
He cleared his throat.
"Again, I am Mr. Darwin Heethes, your homeroom adviser. Before we could discuss homeroom rules, regulations and such, I would like you to fill out the following forms."
He pointed at the stack of papers I mentioned earlier and started distributing it around.
I looked at the paper that landed on my desk.
"NAME:
AGE:
BIRTHDAY:
ADDRESS:
CONTACT NUMBER/S:"
The typical fare.
I filled in my form, starting with the name.
Zachary James Taylor
I continued scribbling the answers to the blanks until Mr. Heethes asked for the papers. He collected the documents and read some entries.
"Hmm... Zachary James Taylor..."
I gulped. What did he want?
"You have a distinct set of likes. Rock music? Videogames? Internet? Books? Well, I must say you're a pretty diverse one. Unique from the crowd. Good luck in fitting in."
Was that supposed to be a good piece of advice, a compliment or what?
He started droning on about the homeroom rules, but in my head revolved 30 Seconds to Mars, My Chemical Romance, Green Day, Secondhand Serenade and various other bands and singers that I happen to appreciate.
The bell rang. Break time. Good. Now I can... appreciate the fine food from the cafeteria. Hopefully, the school would be rich enough to have a pizza booth available. I almost stepped out of the room, when a hand reached for my shoulder and pulled. Painfully.
"What?!"
I looked around and saw this stranger, a girl. She was looking at me in a different sort of way, but I can't explain her motive, emotion or anything. She just was there, looking at my eyes, directly. She was sort of different, with cargo shorts and black Chucks, and an elbow-length white shirt and a vest that was like made of material from cargo pants. She had a fairly long hair, blonde, had wavy or curly hair [I can't seem to differentiate the two], and a face that told me that she had a hard attitude.
"You, Zac. You like rock music?"
This girl seemed weird and cool.
"Uhh.... Yeah."
Didn't she listen to Mr. Boring Teacher?
"Why'd you ask?"
"Nothing."
She started to walk away, and she felt like she's got a tough attitude.
"What's your name?"
I asked her. She turned around, her canvas checkered bag swiveling.
"Sam."
"Sam?"
"Yeah, Sam."
"Your full name, I mean."
She groaned.
"Samantha. Samantha Reese."
Samantha Reese? That's her name?
Samantha, or Sam, as she told me, walked away. She caught up with another girl, I presume her friend.
Ok, so that was a little random. What a boring first day...