Fifth-grade

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11 years old

Nathan Ackerman stood by himself on the curb of his street. His mother didn't look out the window but instead completely trusted Nathan. She trusted Nathan to get on the bus himself, to get home by himself, and of course have his own fashion sense. Maybe she trusted Nathan a bit too much.

Nathan's dark hair was all messed up, his green eyes had dark circles under them. He wore a blue hoodie, jeans, and a new pair of sneakers (Don't mind the brand).

He climbed up the familiar steps to the school bus. His last year climbing these steps. He gave a small good morning.

He didn't even bother to look at his friends until school. He sat down on his usual seat.

"Hi idiot."

"Hey moron."

"Dork."

"Geek."

"Nerd."

"Stupid."

"Dumb."

"Last year eh?"

"Yep."

There was some sort of tingling excitement and nervousness in the air. No doubt this group of fifth graders were going to leave a mark on their school.

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