Viper House

Firsts

**Trigger Warning: Abuse and drug use

Firsts should be outlawed. Everyone should automatically go to seconds. Seconds at a meal. Seconds at doing a skill. With a first, it was always nerve-wracking. There was the stress of being the first to do whatever task it was and there was the pressure to succeed at doing it. There was anxiety about the unknown and so many questions that may or may not be answered. Above all, there was the fear. Fear of failure and even fear of success.

I gripped the straps of my backpack tightly, staring up at the broken clock on the front of the school. A group of boys lounged on the steps in front of the school. A girl with a camera was running around and snapping pictures of everyone loitering or rushing into the school, capturing all of those memories for the yearbook. People were gathered in their cliques. The jocks, the brainiacs, the in-betweeners, the loners. Almost everyone had a place where they belonged.

I took a deep breath before I headed up the stairs. I walked into the office, drumming my fingers on the counter as a blonde woman chatted with a man at the copier. She glanced over at me and motioned for me to have a seat before she turned away.

I sunk down onto one of the uncomfortable, barely cushioned chairs that looked like they'd been there since the school had been built back in the '50s. I'd been given a tour last week with an overly peppy guidance counselor, who was very much aware of my circumstances and was there to do whatever she could to help.

The office door opened again and a dark-haired girl walked in. She glanced at me before she moved behind the counter, waving at the blonde woman. I looked away and watched through the glass in the door as students straggled into the building. There were still two minutes left until first period. I hadn't been able to stand to be home any longer.

As the man walked away from the copier, the woman came over to the desk. I stared down at my shoes as she spoke with the girl in a quiet voice. I didn't try to listen to them. I'd learned early on that people didn't bode well with eavesdropping.

"Alright, sweetie," the woman said. I waited for the girl to answer, but when she didn't, I glanced up to find the secretary looking down at me over the counter. I stood up, readjusting the strap of my backpack on my shoulder. "It's the first day of school, so don't worry about getting lost. There's going to be a lot of people confused. Here's your schedule with your locker combination. You are going to report to the auditorium for first period instead of reporting to..." She pursed her lips and squinted at my schedule. "Before reporting to calculus. It may run into second period. Who knows."

"Okay," I said as I took the piece of paper and stuffed it into my pocket.

"Now, this is Maia Perry. She's going to be your guide and the person you can ask any questions you may have," the secretary said, smiling over at Maia, who was watching me carefully. "Oh! I had a note for you from Mrs. Rosas for you. Where did I put it? Just a second, honey."

I looked back out the window as a group of boys in letterman's jackets walked through the main doors.

"Where are you transferring from?" Maia asked suddenly. Her voice was light with a hint of weariness. I looked back in the direction of her voice, choosing to look at the cracked clock that was permanently stuck at eight past six.

"I'm not," I told her as I leaned against the counter and looked down at the club sign-up sheets.

"What do you mean you're not? Everyone comes from somewhere."

I smirked, picking up a pen and doodling on the corner of the drama sheet. "I'm just fucking with you. I went to Lakewood."

"Oh." She walked around the other side of the counter, standing a few feet away from me. "Well, welcome to Hawking."