Soul

Mirage

I don't like swing sets.

It all started with one of those people. Everyone knows the type. Your entire friend group collectively hates them. So, in order not to alert anyone, you give them nicknames like "God Complex" and "Miss Antarctica".

Yeah, those people.

I was in fourth grade, minding my own business. I also just so happened to be seated on a swing.

Samantha McCoy (A.K.A. "The Avalanche") wanted my seat. Never mind that there were three open swings, she wanted mine.

Samantha was a pushy brat, but there's no way I was giving it up. It was the good swing, in the shade. So I did what any self-respecting fourth-grader would do: I ignored her.

That was a big mistake. The minute I had all but forgotten her, one of Samantha's goons snuck up behind me and shoved me.

All I remember was me being flat on my face and kids laughing. Laughing, laughing, laughing all around me. And Samantha took my swing.

That's why I don't like swing sets.

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Johnson High School has the dumbest theme song ever. So, obviously, everyone makes fun of it.

"Oh Johnson High School,

We love you ever so.

Oh Johnson High School,

Your grace we'll always know!

We will always win

and we'll never forget

our Johnson High School pledge!"

Cooper and I finished our ear-splitting rendition at the top of our lungs and collapsed on the ground in hysterics.

"Come on, dude," he gasps out, "Scott and Alexis are probably waiting."

He's right. We're closer than...well, four peas in a pod. We head up the concrete sidewalk towards the front doors of JHS. This was the first day of our second year. I'd known Cooper since kindergarten and Scott since second grade, but I'd only met Alexis last year.

Cooper and I trudge inside the entrance, only to be mobbed instantly by Scott and Alexis.

"Kyle! Cooper!" They shout in unison. We laugh and share a group hug.

What a fantastic start to a less-than-fantastic day...

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We don't have homerooms at JHS. Instead, Scott and I headed off to our first period class: math. The second everyone was sitting down, the teacher started talking.

"Hi! I'm Mrs. Bee. Or Mrs. B. It doesn't matter! They sound the same!" She nearly collapsed in giggles, her thick brown hair flying everywhere. "Why don't we tell each other a bit about ourselves? You first!" She points to Scott.

Scott cleared his throat. "Hey. I'm Scott Harris. I play football, and my girlfriend's name is Alexis. That's it."

Everyone said a little in turn, most of the students clearly uncomfortable. For whatever reason, Mrs. Bee skipped over me. I couldn't care less, but it struck me as odd. Then she spoke.

"Okay, everyone! Let's talk rules. Troublemakers will be punished. Severely."

She shot me a death glare as she said it, leaving me confused out of my wits. What had I ever done to her? Mrs. Bee continued reading over the rules, glancing at me every few seconds.