Chapter 2
I woke up to a car blasting some rap music outside. I groaned and crawled out of bed.
After brushing my teeth, I went through my drawers. I picked out a random band shirt which sounded familiar and an old pair of jeans.
I’ve been finding familiar bands on my shirts but other than that I haven’t found anything else about this life.
I looked at the mirror before I headed down stairs. I had jet-black hair that toppled to my shoulders; a piercing in my left ear and dead gray eyes that almost screams stay away or I’ll kill you.
Good I thought. If this is the person everyone is judging me to be then it’s the person they’ll get.
I ran down the stairs when I bumped into a girl about five who had gold blonde braids and freckles- one of my foster sisters. I think her name is Emily-there were four of them who hardly talked to me. It was hard to get to know the whole family when they treated me like a pariah since I came here.
“What is it?” I asked.
She didn’t meet my eyes and stared at her shoes as if that was the best excuse to avoid my gaze. I knew she was afraid of me—everyone was.
“Mommy wants to speak to you.”
I nodded and jogged down the stairs until I reached the kitchen.
A jar of mayonnaise, turkey, cheese, bread and a line of four lunch boxes sat on the table. A dark skinned boy with glasses, another foster brother, sat on the table eating a bowl of cocoa puffs. I watched as mom spread the mayonnaise on the line of sandwich bread.
“You wanted to talk me?”
“I was wondering if you knew where you’re new high school is located?”
“I searched for direction on google maps. I’ll be fine.”
I grabbed the car keys and slipped on my jordans.
She nodded and I could already feel the silence filling in.
I opened the fringe. I took out the milk and drank from the carton to my mom’s disapproving eye, then grabbed a bagel and my bag and headed toward the door.
I was about to leave when mom called again.
“You forgot your phone.”
“Thanks.”
I twisted on my heel and headed for the door.
“And Rowan. Try not to get in trouble.”
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Starting a new high school sucks especially when all the kids epically the freshmen stare at you like you’re criminal’s most wanted.
I wonder how many school’s I switched to. I feel like I’m used to the troubled new kid feeling, finding your locker, the awkward whispers as you enter the hallway, and the silence that follows as you search for a seat.
I knew what they were expecting. The scary kid chooses the back seat with the desk with anime, bubble lettered curses, and couple’s initials with a heart in the center. At first I decided to do the unexpected and take the front center seat but that attracted too much attention and gave the class an easy spotlight on me. I then decided to sit in the middle row. Not to close to the front and not too close to the back.
I shrugged my book bag over my shoulders and took a seat just as the teacher walked.
“Today we have a new student. Rowan Harris, why don’t you go up to the front of the class and introduce yourself.”
I sighed. So much for staying out of the spotlight.
I walked up and faced the class. I shifted my feet. How does a kid with amnesia talk about himself?
“Ummm hi. My-“
Before I could even finish a girl called out “Is it true that your grandfather was a Nazi and you’re part of the KK.”
“What?”
A kid from the back called out “Did you really knife some guy at a black market?”
Suddenly the whole class was shouting questions at me.
“Did you really set a raccoon on fire?”
“How long were you at Juvie?”
Great I just started school here and by just saying hi, I was already the school’s delinquent.
“Quiet!” Somehow the teacher voice overcame the whole class. “Thank you Rowan. Please take a seat.”
The teacher looked at the class with a stressful yet angry look in her eyes. I was surprise she hasn’t pulled out all her gray hair yet.
I went back to my seat and tried to settle in when someone poked me from the back of his or her pen. A girl with almond shaped eyes and short dark spiky hair with blonde streaks smiled. She was short and looked like someone with some wild nationality mix like Hawaiian and Sweden or something.
She held her hand out. “Hey, the name’s Johanna but if you call me John I swear you’ll regret it.”
I was about to shake her hand when I mentally slapped myself. The last thing I need is a hot girlfriend. Even if I become friends with her, she’ll probably end up asking questions about me and half of them I can’t even answer myself.
Besides I’ll probably end up scaring her friends and family. I could already see her dad sharpening his knives and pitchforks for the scary boyfriend.
I looked at the girl’s hand then I met her eyes. “Piss off.”
“Someone’s grumpy. What’s wrong sour patch?” she asked. She tilted her head and her bangs got in the way of her eyes.
“ Are you deaf? I said piss off.”
She smirked. “No, I’m not deaf but maybe you are. I said my name’s Johanna. Now what’s your name?”
I was about to curse her out when the teacher called for the class’s attention.
Time seemed to be going backward. All I learned was that our lesson was on the French Revolution. I hardly knew the notes I was coping down.
Finally the bell ringed and before the class knew I was gone, I left.
I dug my schedule out of my bag.
Someone looked over my shoulder. “Hey sour patch.”
I jumped and turned to see Johanna. “ Shit, Don’t you have somewhere to go or do you just stalk everyone?”
She smiled. “Ironically, we have the next two classes together. Next is gym so that’s why we’re heading the same direction.”
I felt pretty stupid but then I figured she had to look at my schedule in order to figure out what classes I’m in.
“John!”
I turned and a girl with curly dark hair and blue eyes grabbed Johanna and practically squeezed her to death. The girl finally let Johanna go.
Johanna turned and smiled, “ I told you not to call me that.”
The girl smiled, “Sorry John.”
Johanna slapped her arm. “ You have gym too?”
“Oh my God! Yes!—“ She stopped “Who’s the scary guy.“ the girl finally noticed me.
I then noticed that I’ve been staring and cursed myself for not taking the chance to ditch the two. Now I have two people to annoy me.
Johanna smiled. “That’s grumpy.”
YOU ARE READING
Forgotten
ActionRowan is a boy of 17, foster homed, has the reputation of a serial killer in his new high school and to make matter worse has amnesia. His own family will not speak to him making the puzzle in his life even harder. His only connection to his past i...
