Dylan

First Day

I heave a sigh of relief when I finally find the classroom and walk in. The student's attention shifts instantly from the teacher to me. I belatedly wonder if I should have knocked.

"And when you get to the x part, it's inverted--" he turns and stops abruptly, when he sees me. I wave my schedule and map at him.

"New student," I say by way of introduction.

"Oh," he sighs. "Are you the transfer?"

I shake my head. "I was homeschooled?" I don't know why that came out as a question.

He nods anyway and waves me over to his desk and I obey. I am quite obedient today, it seems like.

"Write your name here," he points at a blank spot under all the printed names of the students in his class. I wait for him to give me a pen, and when he doesn't, I seize one from his desk and scribble away.

Whispers erupt in the class over the teacher's stunned face. I squint at the top of the paper. Mr Sito. What an interesting name. I drop the pen where I took it from and look at him. "So where do I sit?"

He glances around the class, as do I, and I see that more than a few students are inconspicuously clearing away their books to make space, casting hopeful eyes at Mr Sito. Wow, apparently people want me to sit with them!

"There are a few spots here and there, Just pick one that suits you for the rest of the year." He relinquishes his responsibility to me.

I blink at  him. "I can't ever change places?" Is that how school is supposed to be?

"Of course not," he barks, then remembers that I was homeschooled and eases up. "This is how it is."

I nod. "Oh okay." I randomly choose the closest available seat to the door, and settle beside a pretty freckled, honey-brown haired, bespectacled girl. She smiles shyly and I see braces on her white teeth. 

"Hello, how are you?" I say amiably. "My name is Merissa Reynolds. And you are?"

I am met with a stunned silence. The entire class stares at me like I am an alien life form. 

"Miss Reynolds," Mr Sito says with an exaggerated patience. "Leave the banter for after classes, please. Or during free period or lunch time. Now, open your textbook to page thirty-eight and listen--yes?"

I have my hand raised. Once it catches his attention, I lower it, like I have seen in movies. "Excuse me, Mr Sito, but I don't have a textbook. I think my father has forgotten to tell me that I needed them." I nod. It is just a theory, but I have a sneaking suspicion it is true, too. 

Mr Sito's jaw drops and his eyes raise heavenward for about three second while the class laughs, during which time I think he is about to have a stroke. Fortunately his soul returns to his body and he asks me to share the textbook first.

I turn to the mortified girl beside me, I see that she laughs until there are tears shimmering in her eyes. "Will you share your textbook with me?"

She appears to be trying to swallow down massive gales of laughter as I watch in concern. Surely that can't be healthy?

Finally she gives a choked equivalent of a nod and slides her book over. Mr Sito rolls his eyes at all the drama and picks up where he left off. I eagerly listen before discovering soon enough that this is a topic I have already covered. Instead of being disappointed though, I find the way he teaches interesting. Maybe because the technique is designed to lecture many students at once. 

Be that as it may, it certainly gets boring to hear something you already know repeated, so I cast furtive glances around the class. There are only three blondes, two of which were guys. The girl is quite pretty, but when compared with the dark beauty around her, she seems to pale in comparison.