A Long Way From Home

Chapter Six: The Long Haul

       Again, I was listening to yelling within the same two days. At least this time the yelling was in English and wasn't between my parents. School Cafeteria.

        Apparently school still exists and you still have to go even when you find out you're switching to a different school. So much complex school business.

       I was sitting in my normal spot at the front of the cafeteria with some other kids who did work while they ate. It was sort of nice because none of us were actually friends and didn't feel obligated enough to force conversation, but I could also rely on them to loan me a pen or eraser or whatever the hell.

       In front of me was advanced physics homework about drawing free-form diagrams in relation to orbiting satellites using Net Forces and Newton and Kepler's laws. I even had all my different colored pencils out to label the different forces.

      "Just so you know," the boy sitting next to me commented through his chicken wrap. "Your centripetal force is pointing in the wrong direction for the given object."

       Back to question three. He was right.

       "Thanks."

       "Yup."

      Back to silence.

       It made me a little uncomfortable that I'd gotten that wrong. Normally, pretty much all the time, I didn't even need to think too hard to get the right answer for physics.

       I fixed my graph and spun my pen between my fingers. All I could think about was the Garrison. The email said I needed to arrive at the school no later than two weeks from today, and I planned to arrive this weekend.

       Only four days away, including this one day.

      Too long.

      I packed away my lunch that I hadn't even touched and put my homework back in my bag, swinging a leg over the bench and getting up from the table. Several of my homework buddies looked up at me curiously, but no one said anything.

       I gave a small wave, and most waved back then went back to their work. The walk back to class felt longer than normal as I kept my eyes pointed toward the ground, holding onto the messenger strap across my chest. No one was really in the hallway unless they were eating, and they didn't care enough to look up at me.

       When I got to my locker I set my bag down and unlocked it, standing still for a moment with an absentminded quality. Several textbooks that have never been opened, some annotated class readings, empty notebooks, colored pencils. That's all there was inside.

       I picked up everything and lifted the flap of my bag, starting to load everything inside. It barely fit and kept it from closing properly. I had to use all of my body momentum to lift it up onto my shoulder, then over my chest.

        "Bye, locker," I whispered as I closed the door.

       "Yeah, that's not weird."

        I whipped around, recognizing the vaguely familiar voice. It was the guy who sat at my table and corrected my Physics homework. What a dick.

        "What are you, a stalker?" I walked past him and he caught up next to me.

        "No." He didn't finish his phrase. I gave him a weird look. Kind of a, 'what the fuck is your deal' look. He shrugged. "You just kind of left and the table thought something was wrong."

       "Oh. Well thanks."

      "Yup."

       We went down the hallways, and subconsciously started going in circles around the halls during the rest of our lunch period.