˚ʚ my heart beats for you in threes - stenbrough ɞ˚

chapter twelve

(im back! )

no tws today

   summer flew by like a bumble bee towards a bright flower, and the transition to fall stung like a wasp.

   highschool started in the middle of august. it was my first year, but the rest of the losers were going to be sophomores. but it's not like that mattered anyways. i ended up trying to avoid any classes that anyone other than freshmen could take, but most of my elective credits (and a math class) were from multi-year classes. so, i have a few classes with bill and richie. 

   i'm not sure if they hate me, but i understand if they do.

   on that first monday, i walked through the doors, crumpled schedule in hand, and i wasn't sure how to feel. i didn't feel better, but i felt glad to be away from home. i had made sure to get there a whole half hour early so i could organize my locker, but it still wasn't enough time because i spent most of it just trying to make it "right."

   my first period class was mathematics. richie was in this class. the walls were the color of an eggshell, a cracked one at that. you could see the dull gray maine fog outside the window. the chalk board had slanted white writing that said "mr. cliff." the f's were crossed using only one harsh line. the desks were arranged exactly how one would expect them to be in a highschool classroom, and the same chalkboard handwriting was found all around the room on small index cards with each student's name on it. the name stanley uris was on the back row, the third desk from the window, and right next to it was a desk with the name richie tozier on it. i took my seat, and that familiar hard plastic hit my back like a train.

   the first bell rang, and people flooded in. chunky sneakers, denim jackets, and plaid and/or floral skirts were all any of the girls (.. and boys) ever wore here, apparently. gum smacking, pencils tapping, and nervous feet were all i could hear, until the bell rang again. of course richie is late, that's his thing. i must not know anything about him if i ever thought he was going to be on time.

   "hello students! happy first day, eh?" mr. cliff spoke, despite the tension in the room making it very obvious that it was not a happy day.

   "now, my name is mr. cliff. welcome to the school year. i will be skipping icebreakers because, quite frankly, i don't like them. this is math class, not public speaking class, so we will not be delving into any fun facts about any of you. any questions?"

crrrrrreak.

   richie tozier slips through the door and walks down the side of the room and back next to me. mr. cliff tilts his head, but pays no mind. he must have had richie last year.

   he's fashionably late, with some coffee brown corduroys, stained white tee, and a denim jacket, the same one everyone else is wearing. he looks good, but he doesn't look like richie. although, i know that the stains on his shirt are probably from pizza sauce, and that is very much richie tozier, hes missing.. he missing an obnoxiously busy hawaiian button up.

   mr. cliff went on and on, talking about what supplies we should have, what time we need to get here (he was looking at richie whilst saying that one), and what to expect for the year.

"if anyone was listening to anything i just said, raise your hand."

everyone did.

"if anyone could repeat back to me what i just said, raise your hand."

nobody did.

"fair enough. well-"

   and i zoned out. a paper brushed my arm and snapped me back, and the pale yellow note said, "we missed you."

the i was dotted with a star. i missed them too.