Sixteen, Clumsy, and Shy

Chapter 1: Sweet and Tender Hooligan

It was the first day of school and Morrissey was dreading the thought more now than ever. But, he knew attending school was mandatory and dragged himself out of bed, got dressed, and styled his quiff the way he liked it before walking out the door.

Upon arrival, he darted straight to the library; in order to get through the worst day of the year, he was going to need plenty of books to entertain him in between lessons. To his surprise, multiple people were already in line, but he decided to wait anyway; how was he to get through the day without a single book?

He took his place in line, hoping he wouldn't be late to his first class; first impressions are everything, after all. After about 10 minutes, he began to hear the contents of a loud conversation at the front desk of the library between a boy and the librarian.

"Hi, uh... I'd like to check out, uh... Catcher In the Rye. I was told I'd need it for, uh... English. Yeah, English." The librarian looked disgusted. "You need to leave, right now."

"What's the fuckin' problem? I just want to check out a book for class."

"You're clearly stoned and you're now using profanity. Leave now before I call the police." Frustrated, the boy stormed away from the front desk. In a blind rage, he tripped over Morrissey's foot in the process, shouting, "Get out of the way next time, asshole." before exiting the building altogether. 'What a charming young man," Morrissey thought sarcastically. Doing drugs was never his idea of "fun", but he couldn't help but smile at the thought of rebellion and coming from that boy, it seemed to be not as bad.

Finally. Morrissey made it up to the front desk and checked out some books and ran off to his first class of the day.

Just in time, Morrissey slinked into one of two empty seats in the middle of the classroom. He looked around and recognized a few people from previous years: up front was a girl by the name of Angie. She was outgoing and very kind, so perhaps group work wouldn't be overly unbearable after all. Towards the back were Andy Rourke and Mike Joyce. They were the epitome of testosterone; manly, athletic, homophobic, and just... Bullies. He was hoping to avoid them at all costs; they had picked on him for years for always reading alone, usually calling him a "fag" in the process.

The bell rang to signify that class had begun and the teacher walked up to the front of the classroom. "Hello, I'm Ms. Branka and I'll be your English Honors teacher for the rest of the year," she started, "You will NOT talk out of line, things will be done my way and not any other way. There will be no eating, no drinking, and no gum chewing." At that moment, you could hear someone swallow their gum. "Aside from those things, this class will be very project based and I will try to make it as fun as possible, okay? Okay. And tomorrow, we're going to start the year with a project to get to know the people around you. So tomorrow, remember to find a partner, okay? Okay." Ms. Branka walked over to her desk to take attendance. Morrissey could already tell this year was going to be hell for him. The teacher was awful, rude, and ugly; all he wanted to do was leave. But knowing he couldn't, he instead opened up one of the books he checked out from the library to help get him through the remaining minutes of class, that is until Ms. Branka opened her big mouth again, "Steven?" No response. "Steven? Steven Morrissey?" He rolled his eyes. "Present," he stated reluctantly.

"Mr. Morrissey, why didn't you respond when I called you the first time?"

"Because I don't like the name Steven. Everyone calls me Morrissey." The vile woman pursed her lips together in disgust. "Fine, Morrissey. Respond the next time I call on you." After continuing with attendance, they were told to turn their Summer reading packets and were excused to go to the next class.

After school, Morrissey ran down to the library and sat down in a seat that connected to the back wall, hiding himself from most of the school. But before he could past the first chapter, a shadow appeared and with it brought a familiar, yet slightly unwelcoming voice. "Why'd you trip me earlier, asshole?" The voice said, revealing that it was the stoner boy from earlier. He was looking down at him in an angry manner and he knew this wouldn't bring pleasant news. "I, uh... I didn't trip you. I'm sorry about your fall, though," Morrissey mumbled, slowly bringing himself to look up at the boy. The boy's expression suddenly changed; he now had a look of what appeared to be admiration. His eyes widened and he suddenly seemed lost. "I, uh... I'm sorry," he stuttered, "I must now have seen where I was going." Morrissey smiled. "It's okay, I was actually terrified that you'd ask me to fight. I'm not very confrontational and I'd much rather read this book..."

"Nah, it's okay. I'm sorry for calling you an asshole."

"It's quite alright, it was just amusing to watch because you were stoned." Both boys laughed about it. "Well," Morrissey continued, "Have you got a name? Or am I going to deem you Stoner Boy?" The boy chuckled.

"Johnny, Johnny Marr."

"Johnny... Pleasure to meet you."

"Now do YOU have a name? Or am I just going to have to call you Asshole?" Morrissey grinned at Johnny. "Morrissey."

"Morrissey? What kind of name is THAT?" He rolled his eyes playfully at Johnny. "Mine." Johnny shook his head with laughter; he couldn't believe how stubborn Morrissey was. "Alright, alright," he continued.

"It's my last name, comes from Ireland, you see. My birth given first name is Steven, but I can't stand that name... Everyone just calls me Morrissey."

"Alright, Morrissey," Johnny started, "It was alright talkin' to ya', but my buddies wanted me to smoke some pot with them and I don't want to pass up the opportunity. I'll see ya' around," Johnny said, patting Morrissey's shoulder and winking at him.

"Oh yeah, uh... See you," Morrissey responded timidly. He actually enjoyed talking to the guy, but there was something off about him and he couldn't figure out what it could possibly be. He dismissed that feeling and continued to read. Perhaps this could be the start of a new friendship?