The FYP

Chapter First

Chapter First

Lucas

"I hate you." TJ mumbled as he trudged next to me.

 I laughed, nudging him slightly to keep him awake. "I had to mate. You wouldn't wake up."

 Even as we were walking downhill on the paved road towards the bus stop, he was trying to go back to sleep. I nudged him again and then pulled him towards me a little, since he was leaning too far on his right. Shoulders slumped and eyes half-lidded, TJ yawned loudly, mouth wide opened. I glanced at my wrist watch, reading the 8:25 a.m that glared at me.

 I grabbed TJ’s arm and began marching. “Come on we’re going to miss the bus.”

 The journey down was easily five minutes; the hike back up to the dormitories was at most 7. I turned my head around to see the dormitories' building getting smaller and smaller as we continued our trek down. Recalling the mess we made in our shared room, I quickly looked forward, not wanting to face that horror until the end of the first day of school.

 As we reached the bottom of the hill, we exited the dormitory grounds through the gates. The bus stop was a simple one, with a shelter and two benches. A sign stood before the bus stop, with white words on a green board stating ‘Shuttle to BISA: 6:30 a.m to 8:30 a.m’. TJ leaned against the pole, finally content there was a place for him to sleep on. I checked my watch again 8:27 a.m.

 I sighed, relief now that we managed to get to the bus stop before the bus arrived. And we weren’t the only ones there. It seemed as if half of the new students decided to take a leaf out of TJ’s book. TJ, being the lazy bloke he is, only awakened an hour after we were supposed to leave our dorm rooms.

 Looking around bus stop to pass the time (seeing as my best mate was asleep), there were about twenty here. First years whom had gotten up late too. So many of them had this white B-shaped pin somewhere on their clothing. I had mine on the collar of my shirt; TJs' was on the front of his hoodie. When TJ and I first checked in at the dormitory office yesterday, the receptionist handed us those pins. I quote, “It’s to know if you’re a new student or not. Much more subtle and nicer than having a name tag.”

 In a way, I agree with her.

 The students here were of different nationalities and different backgrounds. At one corner to herself, was a girl in dark clothing and blonde hair with blue highlights, carrying a cello case. A tall and dark skinned boy had a DSLR hanging around his neck, a bag full of equipment at his side. Another guy was seated on the bench nearest to us, wearing a black hoodie with the hood up and headphones on top of it. He was bent over a notebook, pen scribbling.

 A black figure came up on the road, taking the shape of a bus as it got nearer. I poked TJ at his side. He groaned, and opened his eyes.

 “I don’t want to go up yet Luke...” he grumbled, glaring half-heartedly at me. The bus finally pulled up. “Let’s just get in last so-“ TJ’s suggestion cut off when he laid his eyes on the bus, jaw dropping.

The black acted as a background for the seven lettered word, spray painted in white and shadowed with a shade of grey. If I were a writer, I would have described it as ‘a set of moons that lit up the night sky with its bright luminance’. The words ‘Welcome’ would have looked the part if it wasn’t for the other set of words beneath it. ‘New Blood’ stared at us as we stared at the bright red words that looked like it was painted in blood. Amongst the chaos of the picture, in neat cursive handwriting though, was the name ‘V.Larue’.

TJ gawked at it for a good minute.

I laughed at his shocked expression, wide eyes, dropped jaw and all. He was half-asleep when we arrived at the bus stop but immediately woke up when he saw the graffiti-ed bus. How nice to know that’s what got him to wake up.