If he looked closely enough, the brassy, smooth entrance slightly reflected the expression of anxiousness that decorated his distorted face.
His eyes darted to one of the many analog clocks that stationed each hallway. In dark red letters, the clock screamed 12:33 to his face, reminding him rather impertinently that he had another two minutes to enter the classroom until the bell would ring, dictating his motor latency. Shaking, he gathered enough courage to raise his arm to the shining silver door handle, gulping at the sudden click that filled his ears as he pushed his way in.
He was immediately greeted to a symphony of excited chatters, mostly coming from a couple of bobbing blonde heads he recognized as a few fellow comrades which whom he would be joining for the remainder of the year. Looking ahead, he felt a wave of relief crash into the mush of chaos that blared within his mind once he saw a few extra seats ready to be occupied by his small, round bottom within his reach. He marched towards the empty seat, dropping his black bag on the cold floor.
"Hey," a low, melodic voice chimed behind him. He quickly turned his head and covered his face with his arms, preparing himself for an attack of some sort.
"Woah, woah, I'm not gonna hurt you buddy," the voice chuckled. Something about the boy's voice reminded him of the thick viscosity of honey and a white teenage Morgan Freeman. As his eyes adjusted to his face, he saw the boy had a mop of estranged brown curls and blaring yellow spectacles that sat neatly atop his sweaty nose. "The name's Hayes. You?"
"Alain."
Hayes chortled, reminiscent of Santa Claus. "Hello, Alan. Welcome to French 4."
"No, it's Alain," Alain corrected.
"Anyways, Alan," Hayes interrupted. "Do you happen to like chess?"
Alain was taken aback at first, wondering how one man could jump from topic to topic as if he were a mere tree frog hopping from one lily pad to another. However, upon further glance, he could see the reflection in the boy's glasses displaying a virtual chessboard. Hayes licked his lips as he moved his pawn upwards, patiently waiting for Alain's answer.
"I've been meaning to learn, but I've never gotten into it. No." Alain admitted. "I'm more into...playing instruments." He added, his mind wandering back to a particular pink flyer he had stuffed in his back a few moments earlier. Instead of looking disappointed as Alain had predicted, Hayes turned to the boy sitting across from him horizontally.
"And you, young man? Are you a certified rookie?"
The young man he was referring to had sandy blonde hair, straight and kempt, unlike the discordant nature of the boy he was sitting next to. His grey eyes scanned Hayes's face intently, taking his time before answering as if he expected it to be some sort of trick of words. "I'd say so, yes." He replied matter-of-factly.
Hayes gave the boy a small smirk. "Smart man. How about you, little lassie?"
He pointed his long finger at the girl sitting in front of the blonde boy. She had a dark mass of hair neatly combed into a plump bun. Her eyes narrowed as Hayes directed his attention to her, half frightened and half curious at what would happen next. "I guess I could learn, too." She said, giving Alain a warm smile. Alain, thrown off from the sudden kindness that came from the lovely stranger, curled his lip up and gave her an awkward smile, resembling a victim of Bell's palsy. The girl quickly retracted her smile after that.
"Oh, silly me." Hayes slapped himself in the forehead. "I forget that humans ask each other for their assigned identification for ease in future conversations. What are your names?" He stared at his two classmates, twirling a brown curl between his fingers timidly.
