Nerd Life

[|]Chapter 4[|]

While my vision was groggy, I hear a deafening holler coming from downstairs. As I change nimbly, I hop on one foot downstairs trying to pull up my jeans.

Astonished, I say, "What is wrong!?!?"

My mom screamed like a crazy scientist failing to bomb the world.

She yelled at me, "Someone took your father's files!"

I didn't give a single damn about his dang files! He can go search the Milky Way and search for it, I just hope I never see his face again. I might sound a little tad jealous, but he always favors Gabriel over me! When I am the one who won over ten science fairs, seven spelling bees, and a bunch of other stuff! All he does is talk to his stupid future wife! I never get any appreciation from my family! 

I tried my best to calm down and got ready for school. I decided to skip breakfast and take an organic granola and snack on the way to school. As I take the same route to school, I notice that it was a lot more peaceful in the neighborhood than the last time I was here. As I walk into the school building, everything was different, no one was cussing or fighting. I also notice that Mrs. Winfield wasn't here today. I went to my next class, which was chemistry. I forgot to tell you, but I'm taking all A.P. classes. I walk in and see a woman named, Mrs. Gates. I presume that she is the teacher, because she was wearing an extra large lab coat and a pair of goggles. I find an empty chemistry desk for two people, even though no one else was in here. I take a seat and avoid having any sort of conversations with Mrs. Gates. She stares at me funky each couple of seconds. I sit and wait 10 minutes to see if anyone would be willing to come in and sit next to me.

Finally, I saw someone walk in. I tried not to talk to him, but it looked like he wanted to be my partner.

He walked up to me and said, "Hey, I'm Jay-Jake. I'm Jake."

"I'm, um, Garrett," I responded fiddling with my Star Wars pen.

He pulled out the other chair and sat down, he seemed pretty dang chill. Since I now had a partner, Mrs. Gates decided to assign us a project on the first day. We had to create a type of chemical explosion that we would test a week from now, I thought this was cake. I glanced at Jake's face and I could already tell he was interested in this type of stuff.

"Hey Jake, you want to do the project at your house? I don't think my family wants me doing these types of projects."

"Yeah, sure! But I have a sister though."

"Haha, that's fine!"

We began by planning out our strategy and what materials we were going to use to make the "explosion." We also discussed that we would have three prototypes, test all three and then choose the one with the best results overall. I was so excited, but I also realized I had boxing training right after school.

I told him, "I have boxing training right after school by the way."

Surprised, he responded, "Oh really? My sister boxes, too. Where do you train?"

I proudly replied, "I take amateur lessons at Detroit BA."

As Jake and I plan the schedule, we are being bothered by the jocks that just came into the classroom. We tried our best to ignore their annoying laughter and jokes. I don't know why they think they're funny. When the period ends, Jake and I start heading to our next class. He started marching the other way of the hall, and I tried to find my French class. After a several steps, I finally see the ratchet French room. I begin to walk in and see a bunch of goth-looking people, I try to find a seat and anxiously try to avoid eye contact with anyone. I sat down on the uncomfortable chair and stared at my teacher's name, Mr. Baudin. He seemed like one of those hippy guys from the 80's, he tried to act cool in front of one of the goth girls, what a creep. I couldn't bear holding my laugh in, so I decided to burst into laughter. Everyone stared at me and I immediately stopped laughing and my hands started producing sweat.

"Would you like to share with us what is so funny? Mr. whatever-your-name-is," Mr. Baudin questioned with his sinister French accent.

"No, I'm good," I simply replied.

He scoffed at me then turned his back on me, I just giggled out of amusement. I already knew I wasn't going to be his favorite student. When class began, Mr. Baudin started with nouns and verbs, the stupid lesson was thirty minutes. Everyone else was so involved and dedicated to the lesson. I could of died of boredom if I didn't sketch Mortal Kombat characters, during the lesson. I probably yawned of boredom more than my high score on Tetris. He gave us damn kiddy coloring sheets after the lesson, the stuff you get in prekindergarten. I had a lot of fun crumbling them up and shooting them into the trash can. I thought this French class would be entertaining, I guess not. Probably a 7 year old that took French could pass this class easily. I could finally escape this hell hole after the bell rang. Time to move onto my next class, an "advanced" math class!

I didn't have to walk that much, it was right across from my French class. There was only one problem though, there were so many people blocking the hallways. I had to squish through them and avoid smelling the funky armpits. Eventually, my dangerous journey paid off! The math classroom was actually really classy and welcoming. I walk in and I notice there are only two seats left open and I take one, I bet they were reserved for me. There was no teacher in sight, so everyone was glued on their phones until the teacher came in. Five minutes of pure waiting and someone by the name of Mr. Goodman walks in. He has the most pimp mustache I have ever seen in the history I have been on this planet. He greeted all of us and we began our lesson. He looked like a nice teacher that would give you a free A+. Along with his lessons, he would also do random pop questions. His teachings were harder than I thought, at the end of class, I learned one new thing. If they have a nice mustache, chances are they are nice themselves.

As I exit school, everyone storms out like there is a crazy psychopath with a chainsaw chasing after them. I also carried my duffle bag full of essential items I would need. Good thing I didn't forget to bring my duffle bag to school, now I could shortcut my way to training and be there on time. Detroit is a dangerous place, so I try to be cautious around the "hood." When I arrive at Detroit BA, I pushed open the glass door and saw a girl with brown hair, crossed arms, and a few bruises and scars. I was awkwardly idle like a statue not knowing who this person was, then I suddenly realized who she was.

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Sorry if my book is getting really boring in the beginning! I can promise you that there will be twists and turns later in the future! ;)