Freckle Boy

01: why?

POV: LEAH WALTERS

I can't figure out what to wear.

Nothing looks good on me and I'm thinking it's better to stay home anyways. Mom couldn't find out, she's out doing God knows what.

I push open my closet door a little too forcefully and it bangs against the wall, causing me to wince. I wait for the sound of Mom's footsteps but I remember that she's not home.

I sigh in relief.

I dig through the small pile of clean clothing that Mom doesn't know about.

It's getting late and school is about to start, so I decide on a faded long sleeve and a pair of jeans. I tie my hair into a quick knot atop my head and glance in the mirror again. I lift my shirt up to reveal my protruding ribcage, but force the shirt back down before I have time to overthink any of it.

I learned that the back of the classroom is the perfect place for me. It's quiet and the teacher never calls on you, all while you retain the information that you know you'll never use but school shoves down your throat anyways.

Mr. Collins' classroom doesn't have individual seats, but instead tables of two. I choose a table in the back with no one sitting at it and place my bag down at my feet. I pull out my cellphone from my back pocket and place it in my lap, scrolling through Instagram, looking at celebrities living their perfect lives. The bell rings and my eyes flicker to Mr. Collins who is getting out from behind his desk.

"Good morning everyone. Welcome to 12th grade chemistry. I'm Mr. Collins, and I'll be your teacher this year. Let's go over attendance and then we can start with reviewing the syllabus."

A lump forms in my throat at the prospect of having to speak in front of a whole class.

"Ella Abaci?"

"Here."

"Sophie Artie?"

"Here."

"Vince Balm?"

"Here."

"Sandra Constance?"

Ew. Sandra.

"Oh, here!"

"Damien Edgar?"

"Here."

"Trina Emberlen?"

"Here."

I get lost in my thoughts as he continues calling out names. My last name is Walter so I'm used to being called on last.

"Jacob Vazquez?"

"Here!"

"Owen Walker?"

My attention peaks at the mention of a new name. I look around for the newcomer but am only met with familiar faces. Mr. Collins hesitates when no one responds.

"Owen... Walker?"

Almost as if on cue, a boy rushes into the class, sort of out of breath.

His brown hair falls in a mess on his forehead and he stands taller than Mr. Collins as he walks over.

"Can I help you?" Mr. Collins asks the boy.

"Is this 1st period chemistry with...," He glances down at his piece of paper, "Mr. Collins?"

"Yes, your name is?"

"Owen. Owen Walker," he says, his voice sounding less exasperated then when he first came in.

"Ah, yes, I just called your name. Got lost, hmm?"

"Something of that sort," he murmurs.

"Well, class, everyone say hello to Mr. Walker here," Mr. Collins tells the room.