Private Ale

4 - Throwing Punches

BEEP BEEP BEEP. The obnoxious ring of my alarm clock wakes me up from my peaceful dream. The sun peeks through my window and burns my eyes. I roll over and groan. It's Monday morning and that means only one thing- the first day at my new school.

My private school back in Santa Monica was a completely different environment. Everyone had money, was preppy, and the lowest GPA in the whole entire school was a 3.5. I don't really know what to expect. I'm actually kind of relieved because everyone at my old school was so fake, but I guess that goes hand-in-hand with having money.

I toss aside the fleeting thought to stay in bed all day and ignore reality. I spring out of bed and put on a blue dress, with stockings, and tall boots. You usually wouldn't see me caught dead in a dress, but I need to make an impression.

I make my way out the door and drive to school. I walk through the big doors and look around at my new surroundings. The brick walls inside remind me of a prison more than a school. There are awards and plaques for the football team throughout the years hung proudly on the walls, as well as 'Student of the Month' certificates with names and photos I don't recognize.

I make my way around the corner when, out of nowhere, I run into a hard, brick wall. The books in my hand go flying down the hall and I fall onto my knees.

"Watch where you're going."

I look up and what I thought was a brick wall is actually a person. He looks to be over six feet tall, with blonde, spiky hair and a hockey jersey on.

"Take your own advice next time, ass face." I mutter sarcastically, under my breath.

"Who even are you? I'll be nice to you because it looks like you got your ass kicked yesterday." He laughs and points to my cheek, and his other six-foot and over buddies join.

I touch my cheek, suddenly becoming aware again of what happened to me at Gilman. My face burns up in embarrassment and rage. Is this really how my first day of public school is going to begin?

"I'm new... and you're an asshole. Goodbye." I walk away and that seems to be the funniest thing him and his friends heard all day, judging from their reaction.

I attempt to clear my mind and go into my first class without any expectations. I take my folded-up schedule out of my pocket.

First Period - Physics. Room 209.

I look around and after a few minutes of walking up and down hallways, find the room and take a seat in the back, and put my backpack on the empty desk next to me. Emma and Diana walk in and they sit down in their assigned seats, on the other side of the room.

Physics goes by tediously. Our teacher, Mr. Karas, blabs on and on about the formulas for the Law of Motion. Yawn.

I notice the door creak open and a boy slyly walks in, trying to avoid attention.

"Is this seat taken?" He mouths to me, pointing to the empty seat next to me.

I nod "no" without looking his way and place my backpack on the floor between our desks. Then, I do a double take and look at the boy again.

"Billie?" It suddenly dawns on me that he's the boy from the other night.

The teacher clears his throat and looks at Billie disapprovingly.

"Mr. Armstrong, it seems you have decided to show up to class today. I'm glad you could join us. Are you aware that you are twenty-five minutes late?"

"Yeah, sorry Mr. Karas. I had things to do and people to see." Billie smirks.

Mr. Karas doesn't look impressed. "At least you showed up today. I'm not going to give you any more attention, Mr. Jokester."

"Fine with me, Mr. Uptight." He mumbles inaudibly.

I crack a smile at his comment. He smells like weed, and is wearing black jeans and a Sex Pistols t-shirt. He really didn't fit in with most of the people at this school that I've seen so far.

"As long as you're not late, he's not a dick." He whispers to me, crookedly smiling.

"You don't hate me?" I spit out, ignoring his joke.

"Why would I hate you?"

"I didn't even get to say thank you for the other night. You know, at Gilman... that was really nice of you to call off the show and help me."

"Oh yeah, it's fine. Don't even worry about it, Stell."

"Do you want your shirt back? I could wash it for you?"

"Keep it, you already got your gross blood all over it." He winks.

"Not my fault!"

After twenty more minutes of torture, physics is finally over. I walk out of class with Emma and Diana. Diana greets a tall, blonde boy in the hallway and full-on hooks up with him right in front of us outside the classroom.

"Paul, I missed you so much, baby." She coos in a baby voice. Puke.

Then it hits me, Paul was the ass-face who ran into me in the hallway.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Stella. You know, Diana's bestfriend." I reach out to shake his hand, narrowing my eyes.

"Nice to meet you, Paul Hudson." He obviously plays dumb.

Billie Joe walks out of the classroom and pulls a cigarette out of his pocket, then lights it up in the middle of the hallway, walking past teachers without even batting an eye.

"Hey, burnout. Glad you weren't too stoned to make your way to class today." Paul taunts.

Billie Joe turns around and makes his way towards Paul. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me, what're you gonna do? Burn me with the end of your cigarette? Oh, I'm so scared."

"Just shut up, dude. Don't you have a hockey practice or some shit?" Billie shrugs apathetically, taking a long drag.

Paul knocks the cigarette out of his hands and steps on it with his shoe.

"Get this shit outta here. This is school, some of us actually go here everyday instead of doing nothing with our lives."

Billie's face grows more angry as he furrows his brow.

"Fuck off, man, I'm in a band, we play every Saturday at Gilman and we practice all the time. I have better things to do with my time than going to high school. We're gonna be successful one day, and stupid fuckin' pricks like you are gonna be saying you knew me."

"Keep on dreaming, Armstrong. Or maybe you can't make it  to school because you have a mental disorder... like depression. Are you depressed? I think everyone knows why, too." Paul smirks.

"Don't go there." Billie's voice cracks.

"Because you grew up without a dad. Did he leave your mom? What a loser. Like father, like son."

"You don't know shit." Billie clenches his fist and gets in Paul's face, a couple inches shorter than him.

"Is that right? You're just mad because you can't face the fact that your dad was a los-"

CLAP.

Billie threw his fist up and knocked Paul in the jaw and then walked away. Paul doubled over, quite obviously in shock.

Me, Diana, and Emma looked at each other, our jaws dropped to the floor. I glance at Paul, who is beet-red in the face and struggling to get up off the ground. Did that really just happen?

Billie Joe pulls another cigarette out of his jacket pocket and lights it as if nothing happened, walking down the hallway.

I smile to myself as he walks casually out of the main entrance doors and out of my field of view.