They always tell you that your teenage years are the worst years of your life. It's not wrong. Between the peer pressure, homework, constant anxiety among other things, it can be living hell. But what people fail to tell you is how it will change your life. It can be something huge, like getting into Harvard or surviving a hurricane, or it can be as little as sitting next to someone on your first day of senior year in Pre Calc. Here's how it happened for me...
Walking the halls of Cones High School, home of the Hedgehogs (go team, yay sports), I hold on to the thought of college, only nine months away. I'm not unpopular here, but I don't exactly fit in. I moved here over the summer, moved in with a few friends after my step dad kicked me out for being gay. My mom is working on the divorce, but with two younger siblings, it's not easy and they're not financially stable on their own. I look down at my schedule again and review mentally the classes I have with my friends. I have AP American Lit with PJ, nice, AP Sociology with Joe and his sister Zoe, cool, and... Pre Calc on my own. The very idea makes me nervous, but I push the thought away, reminding myself we all have the same lunch block and afterword I have Chemistry III with Casper, Culinary Arts with Hazel, AP Computer Design with Joe, and French III with Carrie. I'll be ok.
"Phil! Hey, Phil!" PJ calls from his locker, slamming it shut and breaking me from my thoughts.
"Hey Peej, excited to have me tormenting you here as well as your home?" I say in a teasing tone. He rolls his eyes.
"You better watch out, here I have power! Here I have..."
"An even bigger ego than normal." Zoe finishes, joining us. Her boyfriend, Alfie, stands next to her, fighting back a grin. We chat about our expectations, what classes we're excited for, which ones we're dreading and who gives out the worst homework and the first bell rings. PJ and I separate from Zoe and Alfie, and make our way to AP American Lit.
As we walk through the door, I see the teacher, a smiling lady in her mid 50's with purple hair, and decide I already like this school more than the last. PJ and I sit up front, next to each other. The teacher claps her hands together and the chatter fades away.
"Hello everyone! I'm Mrs. Stone. I am 53 years old, I have a three legged cat and my favorite book is Les Miserables by Victor Hugo. I hope we have a wonderful year!" She says brightly. She spends the first half hour discussing the syllabus and rules, and another 15 minutes going on about MLA format. The final fifteen minutes we get to pick a Mark Twain novel to analyze. I choose Swiss Family Robinson, because Mom told me it's her favorite. PJ "drops" a pen and hands me a note when Mrs. Stone is erasing something on the board.
Please let the rest of the year be more interesting, it reads in PJ's messy scrawl. I shrug and smile. I want to be an English Major, so I don't really mind. The bell rings and Mrs. Stone lets us out. She says something, but I can't hear over the noisy chatter of the halls. I head towards AP Sociology.
AP Sociology being on the other side of the school, I make a mad dash, hoping to get there at least a minute early. As I reach the hall it's on, I pant and look at my watch. 8:55. I still have time. I can her laughter coming from the room and I edge closer.
Joe has built a notebook tower consisting of at least 20 notebooks, with pencil case towers and what I recognize to be Zoe's animal erasers guarding said towers. A short Asian woman is sitting on the teachers desk, laughing. As the bell rings, without being told all the students take their seats. I sit next to a boy with green hair and headphones.
"Hi, I'm Miss Casino. I know you're probably already sick of the Syllabus speech, so let's cut to the chase. Why was Joe's tower so funny?" She asks the class. The boy with green hair raises his hand.
"Yes Jack?"
"Because it was a stimulant." He replies. She nods, and continues. Before I know it, the period is over.
I walk more casually to Pre Calc, not looking forward to being relatively alone. I slowly walk in and see the class is already 3/4 of the way full. The only seat in the relative front is next to a boy with curly brown hair, who's wearing black jeans and a black hoodie and reading Harry Potter. I walk up to the seat.
"Hi." I say, internally regretting how shakey my voice is. He finishes his page and looks up. His eyes are brown too, which shouldn't surprise me, but it does. They are the exact shade of brown that are so plain, yet so pretty. I shake the thought out of my head.
"Hello." He replies with a neutral expression.
"Is this seat taken?" I ask, nodding my head at the desk next to him. He shakes his head. I relax a little and drop my bag next to said chair and pull out my text book, ready for an interesting class with this strange boy.
YOU ARE READING
Just Breathe
FanfictionWhen Phil Lester moved in with his friend, he hardly expected to find himself in the same class as a brown eyed, brown haired boy who will soon become his best friend, and maybe more.
