《Dweller Of The Cave》


 One

    I had another stupid dream. A man in armor walked into my house with an ornate axe. Before he could kill me, I jumped through my old bedroom wall and ran down the street to a house that doesn''t exist. I called 911 (or tried to) on an old sticky slide phone. To be brief, I died and now I know what death by axe feels like.


    I woke up, then again for real... Then again for real.


    My neck ached from not having a pillow yet. I was sleeping on a mattress in the middle of my new bedroom. Not even a blanket because I threw it away beforehand. Both of my windows had brand new black curtains. The sunset shown through one of them and filled the room with honey light.


    For I second, I forgot we moved. Until he ran in.


    "Blaine!" Andy cheered. "Can you help me with my boxes?"


    Why didn''t I sleep a little longer? I sat up and rubbed my neck. He asked again, and I had to acknowledge for the 467,888th time that we were related. We had the same vanilla skin, annoyingly long hair, and hazel eyes, but he was a squealy nine-year-old.


    I understand I''m not a nine-year-old, but I didn''t get how he could be fully dressed at five at night and jump around.


    "You have arms and legs," I said. "Unpack your own stuff."


    "I have more stuff than you, and a bigger room!"


    "Maybe if you grew up and threw your toys away, I wouldn''t hesitate to help. Now get out."


    He fake frowned and sprinted out the door. Christ. I got up and stretched.


    Boxes lined the walls, most of them still taped shut. I didn''t feel like opening them. One of them in particular stared back at me with Throw Away written on it in marker.


    It felt weird walking downstairs to get to the living room. We never had stairs, mostly because we always lived in apartments. This place was huge, at least to me. I gripped onto the wooden railing and supported myself with the wall as I ambled down. A draft of summer heat blew in from the cracked front door, mugging up the living room. Though everything was pretty unorganized, at least it was unpacked.


    The hickory floor and mahogany wood patterned walls felt so cozy. The couches sat across from each other with a small ottoman between, while the plants, PC, TV, and bookshelf were in disarray.


    Mom spun around in a black leather computer chair under the golden ceiling light, waving her face with a clothing catalog. Her curly, hickory hair hung over the back of the seat. She wore a white T-shirt tucked into khaki cargo shorts. I always wondered why Mom, Andy, and my Dad had brown hair, and I had to settle with hair the color of cranberries.


    She probably noticed me staring into nothingness. "Blaine, honey, are you all unpacked?" Her voice was low and melodious.


    "Nope, I fell asleep." I started up the stairs backwards before she could mention Andy. "Did they find your dresser?"


    "They claimed they lost it on the trip. I''m gonna order a pizza later. Ask Andy what he wants."


    I gave her a thumbs up and made it back up the stairs. Actually, no. Andy dashed down, hauling a small open bookbag. It sounded like he was hoarding jewelry and rocks in there.


    "Hey Mom, is the TV set up?" He knelt on the floor and dumped all his stupid movies on the floor.


    "Sure is, just don''t-"


    "Can I watch The Exorcist?"


    "An-"


    "And I want cheese pizza! Chucky loves cheese pizza! And sauce that looks like blooooood!"


    He pulled out his basically antique Chucky doll. It used to scare the crap out of me, but I had gotten used to it. He tied his hair in a pink rubber band and put him in a frilly baby blue blouse.


    "You want to show all the big tough fourth graders your doll baby?" I teased. I walked down the rest of the stairs and grabbed the doll from him.


    "Blaine, stop picking on your brother!" Mom snapped. "Now go see if your schedules are in the mail. You''re going to school, too, you know."


    I tossed the doll back to Andy and marched to the front door. The door seemed like the only part of the house that wasn''t redone completely. It wobbled like it was going to fall off any second. Maybe my dream 911-calling practice would pay off. Dreams do come true.


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    Why is the mailbox so far away?


    There it was, a yard and a half across the lawn. How did we already have mail?


    At least it gave me the opportunity to look around. Our house was the first on the street. The giant brick sign had a plaque on it with the neighborhood name: Jennings Street. All of the houses across and next to us were built differently: some had three floors, some had one floor, and I swore one of them was a manor. Maybe the variation of color and decoration was something my mom liked, but it only made me wonder why we had to get one of the "less desirable" houses. Maybe the apartments weren''t so bad.


    The mailbox had two things in it: My eleventh-grade schedule and Andy''s fourth-grade one.


    I looked all around me. The pearly white house to the left of us appeared pale orange under the setting sun. It had a wide wooden porch with a roof. I rested my chin on the mailbox. We missed the jackpot by a few yards next to our house. Geez. I could''ve used the concentration energy on a test or something.


    That is, until someone came out from inside. He was tall and had light almond skin. His thick black hair was tied back in a ponytail. He took out the lollipop out of his mouth and sat on the steps. For a minute, I didn''t notice him staring at me.


    I stumbled back and plastered a weird smile on my face.


    "Hi!" he called and waved to me.


    "Hi!" My laugh sounded creepy.


    "What''s up!"


    "I-I gotta go! Bye!"


    I almost tripped on the rock plates leading up to our house. The door seemed to glide shut behind me. Or I just didn''t realize how fast I could run and hide. I plopped down on the welcome mat and felt warmer than I did in a long time.


    "I... got your... schedule," I panted.


    Andy dashed over and took the envelope from my hand. He ripped it open and scanned over the one teacher he had. Attached was a pink piece of paper.


    "I have Ms. Osborne!" he cheered.


    Mom took the letter from him. "Blaine, you used to have her in first grade, right?"


    "I guess she moved up a few grades," I said. "God, I''m tired."


    "You already took two naps today."


    Mom walked into the kitchen with her phone to her ear.


    Andy looked at me and raised an eyebrow. "What''s wrong?"


    "Nothing. Just saw a racoon."


    "You saw someone, didn''t you? Can I meet them?"


    "Shut up, A-"


    Someone knocked on the door. I prayed the pizza man was just early. But of course, I was wrong.


    It was that guy again. Up close, I could tell we were the same age. He had kind, narrow eyes, a strong nose, and a gentle smile.


    "It''s you! I mean-hi," I stuttered.


    "Hey, so you''re the bi-theh-sias?" his voice was soft and honeylike. "You dropped some mail."


    "I-It''s pronounced bithersee... I''m Blaine. What''s your name?"


    "Griffin Colly."


    "Cool name. Where''d you get it?"


    "What?"


    "Sorry. I just didn''t think I''d meet anyone... at all."


    "Oh, well... Do you know around this place? I was headed somewhere and-"


    The pizza man appeared behind Griffin, holding two boxes of deliciousness. He shoved through and handed me the receipt and Griffin the pizzas. He tipped his hat. "You gotta tip, kid?"


    "I got it." Griffin took his wallet from his pocket and handed the weirdo seven dollars.


    He faltered down the steps, mumbling a Linkin Park song.


    "So... did you wanna head to the park with me?" he stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Murderkill Park is just around here."


    "Sorry, not today," I said. "I have to help unpack. Maybe tomorrow?"


    "Cool! See you tomorrow, Bythesea. Hope the pizza''s good."


    He waved and walked down the stairs. I nudged the door closed (and nudged Andy out the way) and set the pizzas on the ottoman. Mom pranced into the living room with paper plates and napkins. She could probably eat an entire box and still be hungry. Her stomach growled. So did mine.


    "What classes do you have, honey?" she asked me.


    "Oh, uh," I tore open the envelope and unfolded the paper. It was the usual schedule chart where I couldn''t tell what classes I had in what order. "Algebra, English, Earth science... History... Boring."


    "School starts August 27th, so you have plenty of time to look around. You too, Andy, dear."


    Andy abandoned the Chucky doll on the floor and piled three slices of pizza on a plate.


    The 27th: that''s in three weeks! Awesome!


    I piled some pizza on my plate and ran upstairs before Andy put The Exorcist in the DVD player.


    I closed my bedroom door and turned on the lights. It was getting dark out; how could Griffin walk around somewhere called Murderkill at night without screaming his head off? Then again, the name sounded familiar.


    I sat down on the mattress and munched down. As I did, all I could do was look at the box that stared at me. Throw Away.


    Throw it all out... Every single piece of junk.

 Two

    I had the same dream. Only this time, the axeman killed me before I could even cross the yard. I woke up with a pain in my neck.


    The summer sun shone through the sides of the curtains. I wanted to savor every second of the warm blanket around me. Did I get to? No. Did I try? Not at all.


    Mom walked in fully dressed in a denim vest, a T-shirt, and sweatpants. She dropped her hefty toolbox on the floor as her friend peaked into the room.


    ¡°I got Dunkin Donuts,¡± she said. ¡°Ready for your bedpost?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡± I pulled myself out of bed, standing on a sleeping foot that sent tingling up my leg. ¡°God, I don¡¯t care.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with you, today?¡±


    I hobbled downstairs in a black robe. I used to have a matching robe belt, but I had to use Andy¡¯s yellow belt he used to tie Chucky to a soda bottle.


    Speaking of Andy.


    ¡°I got the croissant one, you got the bagel!¡± Andy called from the kitchen.


    The kitchen was much, much bigger than our old one. We could fit a new table in it. And two windows, allowing the heavenly sunlight to fill the room.


    Andy looked at the TV on the stand while sipping on an orange juice. I sat down in one of the cushioned chairs. Andy had unwrapped my sandwich and put the straw in my coffee for me, which was nice. I wanted to smile, but I was too tired.


    ¡°Griffin came by a second ago,¡± he said. ¡°I told him you¡¯d be out in an hour.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡±


    ¡°I think he wants to be your friend.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be dramatic.¡±


    Andy went silent. As much as I wanted to believe him, something told me that wasn¡¯t true. I finished my sandwich and threw my trash away. I ran upstairs to get dressed. Mom and her friend were sitting on my bedroom floor drinking Gatorade, with my bedpost under construction. All of the pieces were still propped against the wall.


    ¡°You¡¯re getting dressed?¡± Mom got up to open one of the windows.


    ¡°Griffin¡¯s waiting outside.¡± I rummaged through two boxes where I threw all my clothes in before the move. I picked out the first pair of jeans I could find. In a box next to it were clothes I didn¡¯t wear before. The first piece on top was a blood red letterman jacket with off-white sleeves. I didn¡¯t remember when I ordered it.


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    ¡°Where are you two headed?¡± she asked.


    ¡°The nature trail in Murderkill.¡±


    ¡°I took you there in Kindergarten, but you started crying, so I stopped taking you.¡±


    ¡°No wonder. I¡¯m gonna get changed.¡±


    ¡°Brush your hair and wash your face, please. And make sure your phone¡¯s charged! Call me when you get there!¡±


    My first shower at the new place was terrible. I didn¡¯t know how to turn the hot water on, and I dropped the soap outside the tub. I dried off and finally got dressed. The mirror seemed to slim everything in front of it. My fingers were thin as straws.


    My hair was still stringy and wet when I got out of the bathroom.


    I didn¡¯t think the jacket would fit me, but God, was it supposed to be this baggy? It matched my hair, I guess, unlike anything I wore before. I grabbed my phone and ran into the kitchen. My eyes scanned the room.


    Should I bring him a snack or something? Think, think, think!


    ¡°Blaine, can I help you unpack later?¡± Andy asked. He started eating through the box of donuts.


    ¡°Sure Andy,¡± I said. ¡°Are there any more donuts?¡±


    He nodded and wrapped two of them in brown napkins and handed them to me. They were warm from sitting in front of the window.


    But now it was time to actually talk to Griffin.


    I opened the front door very slowly. Nothing exploded or caught on fire.


    Griffin sat at the bottom of the steps watching a video on his phone. He ate an ice cream sandwich and washed it down with Sprite. He was in a black tank top and white cargos. It was hot outside; not a good day for a jacket.


    ¡°Griffin?¡± My voice cracked.


    ¡°Oh, morning!¡± He grinned.


    ¡°I got you a donut¡­ if you wanted it, you know.¡±


    ¡°Nah, you can have it. I just ate.¡±


    Well, my worrying was pointless. Griffin got up and stretched his legs. ¡°Ready to go? I can show you around Caedispear, too.¡±


    ¡°Too much walking,¡± I whined. ¡°It¡¯s hot out here.¡±


    It was eleven o¡¯clock, which meant the sun was beaming down on us. This breezy walk quickly became a tedious trudge down a vacant, cracking ghost street. Fences blocked off the vast cornfields on either side of us. Looking back, my house was just a dot in my vision. My legs wanted to fall off. How did Griffin walk along without breaking a sweat?


    ¡°We¡¯re here!¡± he exclaimed.


    ¡°Finally,¡± I muttered. ¡°No offense.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re okay. My legs hurt a little, too.¡±


    ¡°I need a drink.¡±


    A tunnel of old river birch trees made up the entrance. In fact, for miles and miles on either side of us, was a giant wall of them, identifying the park. Their branches were curled, like bent paper clips and pipe cleaners. Crunchy, dead leaves and straw coated the ground.


    Murderkill Park was engraved in a large stone sign. Apparently it¡¯s been around since 1806.


    I hadn¡¯t eaten my donuts the entire walk; didn¡¯t know what I was waiting for. I followed Griffin through the tunnel. A dirt path appeared beneath our feet. At least I thought it was a path. There were too many fallen branches and rocks to tell. None of the bright blue sky was visible through the trees, only thin beams of light, and freckled the forest in golden spots.


    I leaned on a tree to catch my breath. Griffin leaned next to me. The only part of him I could see was his face because of the dim green light bouncing off of it.


    ¡°What school are you from?¡± Griffin smiled.


    ¡°None.¡± I gulped. ¡°I was homeschooled since 9th grade.¡±


    ¡°Cool! What¡¯s it like? I always wanted to be homeschooled.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, but now I¡¯m going to Caedispear High. We used to live in Milford.¡±


    ¡°Lucky. I¡¯d do anything to skip out.¡±


    He pushed himself off the tree. ¡°I wanna show you something. Come on.¡±

 Three

    I couldn¡¯t tell what time it was. Griffin led the way through the thicket, jumping over rocks and overgrown roots. I started overheating in my jacket, so I tied it around my waist. It might¡¯ve been half a mile until we got to his destination.


    The trees cleared a wide path, its treetops forming a dome ceiling. Names were carved into the bark, stuff like J+C and I Luv U, V. Ahead was a long bridge made of walnut wood. Roots wrapped around the railing, even harboring flowers. Either side of it led to a rocky foundation.


    I followed Griffin onto the bridge.


    It overlooked a pond forming a semicircle about ten feet below. Lime green grass and tiny lilac flowers coasted it. Golden light speckled the glittering surface.


    ¡°Whoa!¡± I muttered.


    ¡°I know,¡± he said. ¡°You know what¡¯s even cooler?¡±


    He pointed to the far side of the river, which met a rocky wall. Basically a cliff. Deep at the base of it was a cave. Thin, balding trees and fallen hollow branches swarmed the opening.


    ¡°I never saw a cave in real life,¡± I muttered, resting my arms on the rail.


    ¡°That¡¯s the only one I ever seen,¡± Griffin said. ¡°You excited for the new year?¡±


    ¡°Not at all. I don''t remember any of my teachers¡¯ names.¡±


    Griffin scrolled through his phone for a second, then handed it to me. ¡°Hmm. Can I get your number?¡±


    ¡°Oh, uh¡­¡± I typed my phone number in a notepad app he''d opened, which would''ve taken two seconds if it weren''t for my shaky hands.


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    ¡°So¡­ my little brother goes to East Caedispear. He''ll be in fourth grade. Ollie.¡±


    ¡°Mine too. His name''s Andy.¡±


    He turned his gaze back to the shimmering water.


    I didn''t want to, but looking at the water made me afraid I would throw his phone in it. It could happen. He bit his nail as he studied the pond. I guess he wanted me to hold his phone for him.


    ¡°When''d you want to head back?¡± I tapped my finger on the wood.


    ¡°Whenever you want.¡±


    ¡°So like a few hours?¡±


    He grinned. I didn¡¯t really understand what that meant, but I knew it was a yes.


    The void of the cave far ahead stared back at me. There was no way any animal could live there. If they ran too far, they¡¯d probably fall into space. I found myself nearly falling asleep. Not in a bored way, just so concentrated I was dreaming. I gave Griffin back his phone.


    The forest cooled down as morning turned to midday. Griffin and I continued to admire the colorful painting that is Murderkill, but the pond¡¯s sparkle started to fade.


    ¡°My mom texted,¡± I said. I looked at my phone. ¡°She¡¯s getting us lunch. Guess we should head back.¡±


    ¡°She sounds really nice.¡± Griffin smiled.


    ¡°We¡¯re getting burgers and fries. You want a soda?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Thanks.¡±


    He stretched his arms and legs. ¡°Get ready for the journey back.¡±


    I wish I could time travel: I¡¯d still be exhausted by the end of the walk, but at least I wouldn¡¯t have to experience it. I trudged behind him and distracted myself on my phone. I didn¡¯t have anything to say. What would he even want to hear?


    It felt like an hour before we escaped the woods.

 Four

    Okay, so the axeman dream stopped. Instead, I was gifted with nothing but a black void. That void being my racing thoughts. I stared up at the ceiling, waiting for the grueling hour of five o¡¯clock. I hid my phone under the pillow to make myself fall asleep. It backfired, of course.


    Beep! Beep! Beep!


    I pulled my covers over my head. Even if I didn¡¯t fall asleep, I felt like I was forced awake during an Advil PM daze. After thirty seconds of torture, the beeping seized.


    A familiar scent of body wash and breakfast filled my room from the hall. That kinda distracted from my aching tire. My phone fell on the floor during my daze. I almost forgot what day it was until I accidentally kicked my clothes onto the floor. The ones I picked out last night. All with stickers and tags stuck to them.


    ¡°Screw off,¡± I muttered to myself and ¡°pointed a finger¡±. Once I realized I flipped off my own clothes, I knew it would be a long morning.


    I slid out of bed and trudged to the lamp. My eyes burned from it like a vampire.


    ¡°I said zip it!¡±


    I yanked the clothes off the floor and looked around.


    Finally, after two weeks of living at the new place, I unpacked all my stuff. Organized into the perfect mess. Clothes stuck out of my tall dresser where the old TV sat. My computer desk stood near a corner with posters of singers and a 4th grade honor roll certificate on the wall. I wanted to give it to Andy just in case he doesn¡¯t get an honor roll this year. What would people think about me having an NSYNC poster above my bed?


    I shuffled to the bathroom¡ªthe bright, white bathroom. I figured out the hot water, so I could take a normal shower. I got dressed immediately so I wouldn¡¯t have to later. Same letterman jacket from a couple weeks ago, only I wore white jeans this time. I considered wearing an earring, but threw it away.


    That gave me about an hour and ten minutes to mess around and get my stuff together.


    In the kitchen, Mom poured coffee into her mug. She scraped some eggs out of the pan and onto Andy¡¯s plate. Chucky sat in his lap wearing a pajama shirt around him as a blanket. Andy¡¯s smile brightened the room and brought one to my face.


    ¡°Morning, A,¡± I ruffled his hair.


    ¡°Good morning!¡± he cheered. ¡°Are you excited?¡±


    ¡°Not really.¡±


    ¡°Is fourth grade fun? Is East fun? What¡¯s my teacher¡¯s name again?¡±


    ¡°Osborne. She¡¯s super fun. You¡¯ll love her.¡±


    I opened the fridge and pulled out a container of strawberries. They tasted good on peanut butter toast.


    Back in my room, I pulled my new bookbag out of the closet. With another night without sleep, I might actually eat the weird packet inside it. The bag was really beefy for a first day: two binders, three notebooks, a pencil pouch, and the book I was reading. How does that work? I pulled out the extra binders and notebooks before I put it on.


    That stupid Throw Away box still sat there next to my trash can. I had sealed the top with five long strips of duct tape before we moved. I wanted to tape it more, but it¡¯d just be decoration at that point.


    6:30 and the bus would arrive in five minutes. I leaned on the mailbox. Griffin walked over, upright and awake like he woke up in paradise. He wore a red and black flannel and cuffed blue jeans. His hair was tied in a ponytail.


    ¡°Morning,¡± he said.


    ¡°Hey, Griff.¡± I yawned.


    ¡°Remember, you don¡¯t have to remember where all your classes are right away. It took me three weeks to remember mine¡­ that¡¯s a lot of remembering.¡±


    ¡°I know, but what if I¡¯m late by, like, twenty minutes?¡±


    ¡°Just follow me. The school¡¯s not that big.¡±


    A loud engine roared from down the street, left of us. Bright red lights shimmered through the foggy air. The tall, yellow bus charged and stopped right in front of Griffin. My heart sank just seeing the doors open.


    ¡°Bye-bye, Blaine!¡± Andy had opened the door and called to me. ¡°See ya after school!¡±


    I hadn¡¯t been up school bus stairs in a while, and I wasn¡¯t missing much. The lights were on and made the bus look like a comfy diner. The seats were empty besides a girl listening to music and a boy with a skateboard.


    I followed Griffin to the back of the bus, second to last row. The bus seemed brand new with black leather seats. Griffin gave me the window seat while he sat on the aisle and threw his bookbag on the floor in the aisle. I saw Andy and Mom shrink away as the bus drove forward.


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    Now I only had school to worry about.


    I had already seen pictures of the school: big with two stories and windows seemingly everywhere. I think Griffin could sense my fear, since he leaned over and told me the second floor had no classrooms. Trees engulfed it and East Caedispear Elementary across the street. They were both entirely made of red bricks.


    The bus parked behind the school next to the others, in a sloping line.


    Griffin and I squeezed through the aisle, along with other students, and stepped off.


    I stood on the wet pavement. Students flooded the parking lot. My eyes fell wide open. My ears tuned to every conversation around me so much that it sounded like gargling lava and rushing rivers. My heart pounded.


    ¡°Blaine, it¡¯s okay.¡± Griffin put his arm around me. ¡°We both have Mr. Mercier first. You¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    We finally made it inside. The center of it was a cozy square atrium with red columns in each corner. Posters covered the walls. The ceiling was low, with another high ceiling existing in the middle of it, like a tunnel. Far across from us were cafeteria doors. The amber sunrise washed the floor in orange from a giant window, which seemed to be the only one in sight. Were all the windows I saw on the outside fake or something?


    ¡°Homeroom!¡± a teacher yelled. ¡°Go to homeroom, first, everybody!¡±


    The hallway leading to Mercier¡¯s class was wide, and identical to the others. The lockers were bronze brown.


    The desks were in groups of four with packets in the middle. The teacher¡¯s desk sat to the left of the enormous blackboard, with the SMARTBoard in front of it. Small bulletin boards of math equations cross every wall. Math textbooks filled the top of the heater by the stuffed bookshelf.


    I could appreciate the deep blue carpet; the room was beautiful.


    Everyone pushed and shoved each other for a desk in the back. Griffin and I claimed our seats before we suffocated in the mass of students.


    The late bell rang.


    Our desk group looked sparse until a girl sat across from us. She threw her bookbag in the empty chair next to her. She had dark skin and long, crimped black hair. She wore a choker, a skull shirt, black leggings, and tall platform boots. Sucking her teeth, she took out her phone.


    I leaned forward. ¡°Mandy?¡±


    She glanced up. With a weak smile, she waved. ¡°Hi.¡±


    Worth a shot. Even though most of the faces in the class looked familiar, the three year gap I had with them made them total strangers. Mandy always had a dark soul, but it was more intense now. The others¡­ they were unknown. And there I was, unchanged and not adjusted to the bright lights of a small classroom.


    A tall, sharp teacher burst through the door. His long coat trailer behind him, like just came in from a winter storm. And messy black hair to match. His snow-gray eyes glared at the class. He pointed to the blackboard.


    ¡°Can you not read?¡± he said in a low voice. ¡°Do NOT sit down until I say so. I will be asking everybody¡¯s name. When I call you, say ¡®here¡¯. If not, tell me. Everyone in this class also has Algebra II for first block, so don¡¯t bother making excuses to leave.¡±


    He went through a list on his clipboard, last names from A to Z.


    ¡°¡­ AJ Butler?¡±


    ¡°Here!¡± someone called.


    ¡°¡­ Blaine Bi-theh-sia?¡±


    ¡°I-It¡¯s bithersee. And I¡¯m here.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡±


    He continued down the list. ¡°¡­Mandy Marshall?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m here,¡± said the girl in front of us.


    ¡°I suggest putting your phone away. Let¡¯s start the year on a positive note this time.¡±


    Mandy stuffed her phone into her bookbag. She crossed her legs and arms.


    ¡°This year I heard is going to be very different,¡± Mercier explained. ¡°We¡¯ve added some new programs that we previously lacked. It should raise participation amongst the student body.¡±


    ¡°Why is he telling us this?¡± Griffin leaned into the center of the group.


    ¡°Imagine having him for ninth and tenth grade,¡± Mandy whispered. ¡°I swear he¡¯s following me.¡±


    ¡°I like him.¡±


    The bell rang. I guess homeroom was over. I sank deeper into my chair.


    ¡°I wanna cry,¡± I huffed.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± Griffin patted my shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s not all this sterile. You can join some clubs soon. I was the sophomore class representative last year.¡±


    He reached for the packets in the middle of the desks. ¡°See? What did I say? There¡¯s a whole list of things you can join¡­ in October. And you need A¡¯s and B¡¯s.¡±


    ¡°Hey, Mercier?¡± a girl asked. ¡°Can I still change my schedule?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t like me?¡± Mercier sneered.


    Her fake smile turned to a disappointed frown. She had wavy black hair with blond tips and caramel skin. She wore a tan hoodie with colorful dots and triangles all over it, and cherry red jeans.


    ¡°I-I don¡¯t want Public Health¡­ It has nothing to do with Algebra, I promise.¡±


    ¡°Nice try. Ask your counselor next block.¡±


    ¡°Oh, please.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s enough, Solana!¡±


    She slouched and took a sip from her clear pink thermos.