Something different

Chapter 1

"All right class, hope you had an excellent spring break, but now it's time to get down to business," Mr. Hanson says strolling into class as the bell rings. Everyone else groans at the thought of working but I perk up a bit hoping to find out more.  "Yes, I know. Ughhh school work, but I think some of you will find this quite exciting." he continues looking right at me. I'm suddenly aware that I'm literally on the edge of my seat with my right leg bouncing up and down with anticipation.

"You all will be doing a biography on someone you find interesting, and different. First, interview them; I expect you to know their fears, their passions and even their deepest secrets." Mr. Hanson explains. Wait a minute; he wants us to interview someone interesting? From Coldwater? Where the population is so small we're not even on most maps. It's so utterly boring here my favorite part of the day is school because then I'll actually have something to do. How the hell I'm I supposed to find someone interesting?  "Once you've done that you'll start writing but your biography will turn into more of an autobiography. Yes, Tabitha what is it?"

"How are you supposed to make an autobiography on someone else?" Tabitha asks.

"Simple, you'll become your subject. I want you to embody the person you've interviewed. I want you to write about their life from their perspective. I want you to... write their story as if it were your own. Understood? Great, this will be due at the end of the year so you'll have plenty of time. Now on to today's lesson..." He goes on to talk more but I zone out think about who to choose for my project.

There's Chance, my best friend. Or Ron, my cousin who's a chef for a big fancy restaurant like an hour away. Who else is there?
The bell rings signally the end of the school day. I begin to pack up but then Mr. Hanson says, "Nathan hang back for a bit," from behind his desk.

The other students clear out and I walk up to him eyeing the door; I need to leave soon or else I'll miss the bus. "Nathan I'm expecting you to do very well on this project," he tells me moving to the font of his desk to stand only a few feet away from me.

"I'm going to, trust me. I think I already know who I want to do."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. This will be your last paper of the year, I don't want a paper on your family or friends-"

"Then who am I supposed to write about?"

"Someone new. I want to push you outside your comfort zone. I think you have great potential but you've got to adjust. I want to put you in my senior honor class next year but you'll have to step up your game."

Did I just hear what I think I just heard?! Mr. Hanson's senior honor class is legendary and he has serious connections to NYU that take the honor class's applications into major consideration. I've never heard of one of his students not get in.

NYU is my dream school, I've been wanting to go there since 4th grade when I started writing, and this could actually get me there!

"Someone new, got it" I say excitedly, nodding my head up and down. I make my way to the hallway barley able to hide how ecstatic I am. I've got to get this right, I just have to.
                                  ***
As I make my way off the front steps of Coldwater High I see the buses have left. Crap!

"Hey Beam Pole, wait up!" I hear a voice call out.

Ugh. I sadly recognize that voice; it's Andrew McCormick. He's been giving me a hard time since 8th grade when puberty hit me like a train. I sprang up about nine or ten inches (making me 6'3 now.) This would have been a good thing but I'm sadly skinny and that gave Andrew an idea for my nick name. Oh how I loath him.

"What do you want?" I ask him, turning around to find he was only a couple feet away with his friends in tow.

"Nothing much BP, just me and my friends have been wondering how much you'd pay to not get thrown in the trash." Not this again and it's 'my friends and I', dipshit

I stand there staring, waiting for them to make a move, praying that they wouldn't.

"So how much will it be, Beam Pole? 20? 50?" Andrew questions, coming closer and closer until we're inches apart. His friends come behind me and I can feel their burning stares like fire on my back.

Andrew's shorter than me by a few inches but with raging muscles that are twice the size of my body make him seem like the size of a mountain.

"How about you just leave me alone?" I mumble looking at my black converse. I'm pathetic but not pathetic enough to buy my way out of a dumpster. Well at least not today.

"Well you heard him," he says to his goons.

For about half a second I fool myself into believing they'll actually leave but, of course,  I was wrong. The two guys behind me quickly take my shoulders and arms while Andrew gets my feet. I try to struggle but it's pointless. No one comes to help, but what did I expect? Freaking Superman to come flying to my rescue?

Just as they're swinging my back and forth, ready to load me into the dumpster I hear: "What the hell are you doing?"

(Hey, thanks for reading, I hope you liked it. Sorry if I made any mistakes. Leave comments and suggestions below! Picture of Dylan O'Brien as Nathan)