The Difference

The First Day pt1

Henry "Hater" Korolevskiy did not want to wake up that early. He certainly didn't want to wake up so early and go to a different school.

Yet, as he gazed unimpressed at the giant school, he briefly wondered what it would be like to attend classes.

He saw many other students enter the building. Hater looked around at his peers, who all looked rather normal. Just people walking, talking, and...normal-ing?

That is, with the exception of a few weirdos.

Near a tree in front of the school, a big dude was trying to flirt with some girl holding hands with a less handsome guy. She wasn't impressed and walked away.

Near the doors, a tanned jock guy was boasting to a bunch of sophomore cheerleaders.

Across the lawn, a pale blond girl in a toxic green crop-top and shorts was stealing from some kid. How she could wear clothes like that while it was that cold out, he didn't know.

That's when he caught someone staring at him.

His head swiveled to meet the other's face. A short guy in a white tee shirt and jeans with an orange hoodie around his waist. His hair was orange too. He was pretty tan for a redhead.

He had a patch of hair on his chin and his arms were hairy. Although, the strangest thing about him was the worn, bright green hat with a yellow star on the front.

Overall, he was fuzzy and scruffy-looking. His friend was a tall dark girl in black and orange running shorts, black leather jacket, teal tank top and matching shoes. Her hair was a bright magenta faux hawk with electric blue shaved sides.

The boy was looking intently at Hater, almost in wonder. He's kind of  ador-.... the dark-blonde cut the thought short. He was not interested that...fuzzy, blushing, small...

Shit... 

Hater broke eye contact with the teen and felt his cheeks darken.

"Henry Korolevskiy?" A shrill voice asked.

It pissed Hater off when he heard his real name. He was about to smack the poor kid before he realized who it was.

The first thing Hater noticed was his eye, or lack-thereof. A black eyepatch half-hidden by his bangs. The rest of his black hair was gelled back and slightly spiky. He was short and pale, barely five foot tall. The guy wore a red vest with a black dress shirt and black slacks.

Overall, he looked like a delinquent butler.

"Peepers?" Hater asked.

"Hello, Hater. I'm glad you could make it." Peepers greeted.

Peepers wasn't his real name. His name was Peter Waker. He and Hater had spoken online and video chatted for about a year before the larger teen moved. Peepers was now his only friend, and hired kind-of-servant.

"Uh... Yeah, cool. You got my schedule?" Hater asked. As prearranged, Peepers was his tutor and organizer. Hater's parents were paying the one-eyed teen to help the blond do better in school than the previous year, which he barely scraped by.

Peepers then picked through his school bag and presented the paper that held his classes.

"The school thought it would be best if we shared classes, because I'm your tutor. Although," Peepers added, annoyed, "we also share most of our classes with the most iritating people in the entire world. But you'll see who as soon as we enter class." Peepers shuddered, slipping the paper back in the bag.

Hater didn't know what he meant. Nevertheless, he followed the shorty.

The taller boy suddenly wished he had worn a better hoodie. It was autumn and the air held a chill. The clothes he had picked were jeans ripped at the knees, a black and red drip-patterned hoodie (which he cut the sleeves off to show his muscled arms), with a white tank top underneath. His hair didn't help much either, being a dirty blond crew cut with the sides and back nearly shaved off.