4ng3l Num63r$ - Chapter 1 - Catching Up

11 0 0
                                    

My name is Pierre Lavigne. I am a fifteen year old French exchange student in the tenth grade at a high school in America, New York.

If I'm being totally honest, I was terrified. I didn't know what school in New York would be like compared to Paris.

But it turns out that it's not too bad. I was told by multiple people that I'm 'really attractive' and my French accent is 'so hot'.

I was shy. Of course I was. American students are very..excitable. They like to talk. They are loud. They call out in class. They throw things around. They do pranks. They skip classes.

It's all foreign to me. But of course it will be, I'm pretty much on the other side of the world to where I was born.

When I was younger, I was taught to be well-behaved, speak politely, adapt to good manners, always say yes unless it seems wrong, and most importantly, do not be gay.

My parents sent me to a school where all students were perfect and followed the exact same rules and routines as me. And if they didn't, they would be punished severely.

So I didn't exactly have a choice, did I? I was explained to about what gay means and about sexuality and genders by a friend I made in France. Because he was, in fact, gay.

But he got caught, punished, and expelled. He is now homeschooled. The worst part is, I got found out, too, that I knew about everything.

So, to be 'safe' and to protect their 'precious Pierre', they sent me to America.

Here's what has happened so far:

09/05/2024

As soon as I arrived there, I was told about how to 'blend in'. But how are you supposed to 'blend in' when you are French? I have an accent, look different, and act differently. And plus, I'm scared. No, terrified.

I stood outside the gates of my new American high school, almost shaking with fear. I'm alone. Completely alone.

I went to the front desk, asking what classes I was in. I was given a list. So, going well, right? Wrong. It took me twenty minutes to get the list because the woman at the front desk couldn't understand me through my accent.

My English speaking isn't that good..

So I was late for my first class, English. Coincidence? Maybe. But God blessed me, the teacher wasn't angry and understood that I was from another country. The morals and routines here are completely different.

I had to introduce myself, and I was asked some questions about myself that I answered as best as I could. I had some comments on my accent and appearance.

Overall, everything was okay. I hadn't gotten any rude comments. In fact, I heard people whispering about me. Nothing bad. It was just unusual to have people actually thinking that I'm 'attractive,' as they all say.

The only thing that wasn't normal was this strange feeling in my chest. You know the feeling when your heart beats faster and you feel all dizzy? I felt this weird tingling sensation all throughout me as I looked toward this..boy in the back.

Is that a boy? I can't tell. Either that's a girl, and I have some sort of attraction towards her.. or I'm having some sort of fever or a heart attack.

They were sitting in the back corner, sketching something with headphones on and their hood up. I could barely see their face through their hair, but they seemed to have a more feminine figure and appearance.

I ignore the feelings.

I was assigned a seat in the third row of the classroom, right in the centre, in which there were five rows in total.

4ng3l Num63r$ (BL)Where stories live. Discover now