Tragedy Street

♠Peter Spade♠

I AM PERFECT.

I'm not saying that because I like brag or anything...

I'm saying that because it's the truth.

I am perfect. And people are jealous of perfect.

And it's simply human nature to be jealous, to be envious of perfection and of what's better than what they have.

But, it's also human nature to have flaws. Everyone has flaws. Everyone but me.

Or, at least, I haven't found my flaws just yet.

Or, maybe, I'm just not human.

♠

"Peter, honey, could you please get that box of--"
"I got it, mom."

We're moving again. This time, to the edge of the country.

Why 'again', you ask?

See, my parents are special cases. Their work requires moving around a lot. And since they're too protective of me, I have to go with them. My dad is a famous archaeologist that has (finally) been hired for a nearby museum with a pretty high salary. My mom, on the other hand, is a well-known consultant for, at the moment, the son of a billion-dollar company owner.

As you can probably guess, we're pretty fucking rich.

Well, my parents are anyway.

"Dad? Where are you? Mom asked me to move the couch and I need a little help."
"I'm at the study, Peter."

The basement, in which my dad insists on calling a study, was going to turn into an office for both my mom and dad.

The new house was quite spacey. Two stories; four bedrooms: my own, my parents', the maid's and a guest room; a big kitchen; dining room; living room; basement; bathrooms; a backyard pool and a garden on the front.

The village itself is nice. Good neighbors, a park, some shops and parlors and a mini mall.

"So, where is that sofa we should move?"

"It's right outside. Mom said to place it in front of the TV."

Dad and I successfully carried the four-seater sofa inside and placed it with the help of my mom.

"I'm making beef and broccoli stew for dinner. Your favorite! Peter, you should rest. I'll call you down for dinner. You have a big day tomorrow. Your dad and I will handle the rest."
"Are you sure mom?"
"Yes peter. I am."

"Okay then."

I carefully climbed upstairs to my new bedroom.

I painted it a simple cream color and pinned up a huge map of the world on my right wall the other day. My bed is a simple single bed and I've pushed it on the side of the map. My bag for school tomorrow was at the foot of the bed and my schedule for time consumption was on the wall in front of it.

Needless to say, I was a bit of a clean freak.

My room is still a bit too empty though. I'll have to ask my dad for shelves to put my books on. And buy Post-it notes for school. And stack my album collection, but I need to focus on the important thing first.

School.

My parents have enrolled me to a private high school here in San Francisco. I've seen it by website. It's pretty large and has five buildings. One for 7th grade, one for 8th, one for 9th grade, one for 10th and one for senior highschool. It also has a gymnasium, a pool, a football and baseball field in one and a covered court. The standard is kind of high and I'm lucky I passed the entrance exam with flying colors.

"Peter! Dinner is ready!"

♠

"Are you excited for tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I am. I can't wait, really."

Mom always makes an effort to have small talk during meals. She says 'It's only healthy."

"Have you ironed your uniform? Has your bag been packed? Do you have your ID and schedule? Locker number?"
"I have them all mom. Don't worry."

"Well I can't help but worry. You graduate from junior high school this year. You'll move out for--"

"It's part of growing up, Lea. Our son is of age. He'll survive."

I ate the last spoonful of delicious stew left on my plate, drank all of my water and prepared to excuse myself.

"I'm done mom."
"You are excused, Peter. Be sure to put your plate in the dishwasher and have a good sleep. Good night, I love you."
"I love you too."

And I did. I put my plate in the dishwasher, brushed my teeth, took a brisk shower and slept well in my boxers.

Normal Sunday night.

♠

I woke up before my alarm for four AM even rang.

I sprang up from bed and groggily stretched. Putting on underwear, a pair of jogging pants and a muscle shirt from my bag (I haven't unpacked yet), I exited the house with my keys, phone and wallet then went for a morning jog.

The village is quiet with only the occassional humming of passing cars and motorcycles. Only a handful of people are awake: the joggers, shop-owners and bakeries.

I jogged around the park until I came across a stylish-looking cafe next to the creek bridge.

I entered and the smell of coffee and bread immediately hit my nostrils. The cafe was empty excluding the person behind the cash register.

I scanned the cafe menu and found exactly what I wanted for this morning.

"A toasted BLT and caramel frap please."
"Alright, anything else?"
"Nothing else."
"Okay, that'll be $7.50."

I searched my wallet for a five and three ones, successful at that too. She gave me the change and I got a table near the window.

The sun is already half way up. I have to go soon.

Finishing my BLT and halfway through my latte, I recieved a phone call.

"Peter? Where are you?" It was my mom.
"I went on a jog, mom. Should I come back?"
"Yes, you should. Your father is already awake. I made breakfast."
"I already ate mom. I'll be there quick! Bye."

I jogged home, greeted my mom, showered, brushed my teeth and changed into my uniform.

The uniform consisted of a plain white polo shirt with a chest pocket, a dark blue necktie, dark blue pants and black shoes. The school crest was ironed neatly on the chest pocket. I also had an ID that I needed to get in and out of campus.

I went downstairs with my bag.

"Oh, look at you. Handsome as your father."
"Thank you mom."
"Here's your lunch money." she said to me, handing over a twenty.
"Thanks mom." I kissed her on the cheek before turning to my dad. "Wish me luck, dad."
"Well then, good luck!" he said.

I turned the knob on the door, got in my black Honda Civic (I just got my licensce last month, they bought me this after I passed), and drove to Carson High.

♠

Carson High... was as huge as I expected.

And I'm still on the outside.

Students were milling around. Some with friends, some with family, some alone like me.

There were four lines with security machines where you swipe your ID card and it lets you pass, like a train station.

Let's see...

I lined up on the fourth line, for the tenth grade, and waited for my turn.

It was finally my turn. I took my ID and swiped it through the machine, beeping and going green as it opens for me.

First day, so far so good.