Nico
I can be different here.
I repeat the five words to myself over and over like a mantra.
I can be different here. I can be different here. I can be different here.
Two weeks ago, my father explained to me over the phone that I would be enrolled at Goode High, a boarding school in New York City, so that I didn't have to leave the United States to be with him. What that really meant was that he didn't want me there. I wasn't surprised at all. No one wanted me, especially not my father.
But there could be some upsides. I tried to remind myself that no one knows me here. I could recreate a whole new personality for myself.
But as soon as I stepped into the classroom in front of an array of actual kids my age, I knew that wouldn't be the case. I felt myself fall back into my old ways.
I hadn't been around my peers for two whole months. After the accident, I stopped going to school. Even after I got better through rehab and physical therapy, it felt like there was no point. Especially after I learned I would be leaving anyway.
So yeah. This could, in theory, be good for me; new state, new school, new classmates, new me. But I just can't.
"Good morning, class," said Mr. Brunner, the principal, as he brought me into my home room. "This is Nico Di Angelo, the new student I'm sure Mrs. Dodds has mentioned to you all. I hope you will all treat him kindly, yes?"
The students all nod. Most of them weren't paying too much attention to me. A lot of them just looked bored, picking at their nails or scribbling on their desks.
"Perfect. Can I get a volunteer, someone to show Mr. Di Angelo around, where his classes are and everything else he should know?"
The room stayed silent. You could hear a pin drop. I felt my face go hot, and suddenly my uniform top felt too tight, and I wanted to rip open the first few buttons on my white collared shirt.
Then a hand came up. Quickly, confidently.
I looked at the boy. He was sitting down, but looked tall from the way his legs were straightened out beneath the desk. His hair was blond, slightly curly, and his eyes were sea green. He radiated confidence; the people around him looked at him quizzically, as if to say, why would you volunteer for this? And the look he shot back looked like, why wouldn't I? And then, oddly enough, the weird looks stopped.
"I'll do it, Mr. Brunner."
"Excellent! Thank you, Percy. Have a good rest of your day, everyone."
"Good-bye, Mr. Brunner," the class chorused. And then, as soon as he left, it was like a switch flipped. Everyone went from silent to talkative, turning to the people next to and behind them and talking with their hands, throwing their heads back in laughter, smiling. I still stood awkwardly at the front of the room.
"Tough crowd, huh?"
The boy who'd raised his hand, Percy, offered me a smile. I felt my body relax. Something about him made me feel okay.
"Be back by the end of the period, okay Percy?" Said Mrs. Dodds.
Percy nodded. "Gotcha. Alright, come on, uh—Nico, is it? Sorry."
"Yeah," I said, but it came out as more of a squeak. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Yeah. Nico. And you're Percy?"
He smiled again. He never really stopped. "Yup, that's me. So obviously Mrs Dodds is our home room... can I see the rest of your schedule?"
