How to Smile (On Hold, Will Be Rewritten)

Agreements and People Who Caused My Brothers Death

Agreements and People Who Caused My Brother’s Death

The students got off the bus fast, probably eager to see friends from the previous year. I, on the other hand, was practically shaking like a leaf. I'm sure I would've sat there overwhelmed and feeling like I was going to throw up if Uriah hadn't pulled me up and almost dragged me off the bus, where Caleb was waiting, looking slightly uncomfortable.

His eyes were bulked as he stared at the older boys who walked pass. They looked like skyscrapers compared to the three of us, and some of them even had facial hair. Not little hairs or a whole lot, but enough to be visible and sculpted. I don’t know, maybe this was normal?  I knew this stuff happened around this age but still. Social progressions weren't my specialty.

"Took you guys forever to get off the bus!" Caleb shouted in relief as we all began walking towards the door. "What teachers do you guys have?"

"Um," I paused trying to remember. "Oh! I have Mullins, King, Lowe, and Vance.”

"Same here! Good, I won't be lonely." Uriah says.

Don't get me wrong, I was glad I'd have someone I knew in my class, but at the same time I couldn't help thinking, really? Like, the kid was already down the block, and we rode the same bus. I would be seeing him around a lot. If this was fate or destiny or part of things happen for a reason I couldn't help but roll my eyes as we finally made it through the swarm of students into the building. There were teachers throughout the halls, which were labeled with letters, helping out lost students.

"Ugh, I don't have any of them," Caleb pouts. "That's the accelerated team. I think the rest of us,” –us being the rest of our friends from last year-“ either are in normal classes or at most honors.” I shrugged, not saying anything. We soon parted, Caleb went down D hall while Uriah and I went to H hall.

Our homeroom teacher was Mrs. Lowe. She was also the math teacher. She was short, about my height, middle aged and wore her dark hair loose with a wide blue headband. She was warm and welcoming and full of energy; as soon as she saw us walk into the classroom, she clapped her hands in excitement and said, “Oh, yay! You two are the first to arrive! You can sit wherever you would like, and I’ll get y’all’s locker combinations in a sec.”

Naturally, I picked a seat in the last row. I was back near the lockers, and wouldn’t have to weave my way through the other desks and chairs. She had the desks in pairs and trios, so Uriah, probably feeling as awkward as me in this new classroom, sat his things next to mine.

Mrs. Lowe can to our desk with a smile and handed us both a piece of paper with our combinations and how to open the lockers. “You can go ahead and put all your supplies up, you won’t need them until tomorrow or the day after.”

I dragged my stuff to my locker and began turning the lock left, right, and left again stopping at the different  numbers. It took me several tries before I got the combo correct, much to my irritation, and even then I couldn’t pull the door open. When I looked to my left I saw Uriah already putting his things up and suppressing a smile, and past him two loud boys were making their way in the class. Nervousness seeped inside me, courtesy of my lack of social skills, and more importantly I still didn’t have this frigging locker open.

       Right about now, I was already hating my day so far. I had woke up late, been trapped in the back of the bus with eighth graders, found out that the chances if me having classes with any of my previous friends was slim, and this piece of metal wouldn’t open.

“Do you need help?” Uriah asked.

“No, I got this.” However, when he began to go back to the desk I scowled decided otherwise. “Wait, hol’ up, yeah, I need help.”