Unexpected

Unplanned

Scott:

     Don't show weakness. 

     Keep to yourself.  

     Don't get too close to anybody.

     My three rules for surviving a new life at Martin High. You'd think this is a matter of life and death, which isn't exactly true, but judging by the amount of kids I'd seen shoved into lockers, had their self-respect beaten out of them, and switched schools as a broken, traumatized mess, it almost is.

     Senior year is not the right time to be dropped right into a new school, for you will be automatically considered an outsider, but it's what had to be done. Don't get me wrong, I'd been praying that my mom would get the promotion, moving our family to Arlington, Texas, and I had some pretty valid reasons for doing so, but that didn't make things any less terrifying.

     I know how high school works. Certain people make it to the top, while the rest are tortured at the bottom. Some people, like me, prefer to keep a low profile and stick in the middle. They to go unnoticed, which sounds just fine to me. If I could keep my head low until graduation, I'd consider myself blessed.

     Confession time: I was at the top of the top at my old school in Florida. I wasn't harsh like the others, but I was very much respected. . . until I trusted the wrong person and my secret leaked out. . .

     You can't change what has already happened, Scott, I told myself. Besides, it's time to start over. No one knows about you, and no one will. I nodded slightly, making my way up the steps of my school.

     Once I entered the building, I was greeted by the noise of what seemed like millions of students going about their business before class began. Some chatted casually, while others argued. I even passed two kids who were engaged in a full-on fist fight.

     There were way more people than I would have liked, but I could still go by without being payed much attention, which was all that mattered.

     All of my hope shattered when the boy behind me, who was obviously at the top, shouted "Hey, you!"

     I gritted my teeth and reluctantly turned around to face the boy. He wore a letterman jacket, which wasn't the first giveaway to the fact that he was obviously a football player, with his great height and build. He had that glint in his eyes that told me he was probably a well-known troublemaker, and his red-orange hair matched the color of his freckles, which stood out on his very, very pale face.

     I soon realized that he hadn't been talking to me, but to the guy next to me, a skinny little brown-haired boy who was at least six inches shorter than his caller.

     Poor thing. . . I thought. Judging by the fear in his eyes, I could tell he went through this often. I tried to leave the scene, but I couldn't. It was impossible to tear my eyes off of the events that were to unfold before me, even though I already had a feeling of what was about to happen.

     The smaller boy said, "Y-yeah, Carson?" He directed his gaze towards the floor as more students passed by, not noticing what was happening. I was the only one who had stuck around to see.

     Carson stepped forward, an slightly evil look on his face. "A little birdie told me about that thing you have for my buddy, Jace. . ." Brown Hair gulped, and I knew immediately where this was going.

     Suddenly, Carson plastered a big, fake smile on his face and put his arm around his victim, trying to pass off as friendly. "Dude, it's okay! You should've just told me! We're friends, aren't we?" Brown Hair seemed to relax a little bit. He didn't know the trap he was entering.

     Carson said, "I'm happy for you, man. In fact, I just want to express my happiness, you know?" Brown Hair turned pale as the taller boy tightened his grip on him, making it impossible for him to flee.

     Carson cupped his hands over his mouth. "Can I please have your attention, ladies and gents?" he shouted. His voice wasn't nearly loud enough to be heard over the commotion in the hallway, yet somehow he managed to snag everyone's attention. Brown Hair was terrified. He stuttered, "C-carson p-please don't. . ."

     Ignoring him, Carson proceeded to talk. "I'd just to congratulate my little friend Mitchell, here, on discovering his true self! By this, I mean-" He didn't even get to finish his sentence. I already had him pinned against a locker. Everyone behind me gasped. Even the bully himself was a little shocked.

     The hall grew deadly silent.

     I lowered my voice so only he could hear me. "Keep talking and you'll never make another touchdown ever again," I threatened. I looked behind me to take in the amount of bystanders watching. Almost everyone had gathered around us to see what was going on!
.
     Some students were shocked, others were alarmed, almost scared. The rest, however, were smiling stupidly as they held their iPhones in front of them, recording the whole thing.

     I released Carson and stormed off, trying not to look as angry as I was. Other students watched me in a mix of horror and amazement.

     Everyone resumed to their normal business, but tension could still be felt in the air.

     Way to go, Scott Hoying. You've managed to earn yourself a reputation in under five minutes. I glanced back at Carson, who shot me down with an angry glare. The smaller boy (Mitchell, I believe) stared at me as if I was his favorite celebrity. I sighed.

     This year's gonna be great.