Adachi sat in his first period Biology class, not really paying much attention to the teacher droning on about cells. He already knew all there was about cells, and took no interest in the pointless lecturing meant for the kids who hadn't a clue still as to what a nucleus was. Movement in the hallway peaked his interest though. Looking out the small crack through the door window where a blind slat was missing, he could see someone fidgeting in the hall right outside the class. The knob twisted, and the door opened slightly. Only Adachi saw though, the movement was so slow.
The teacher turned and saw the slightly opened door, and walked over. Grabbing the handle, he pulled and opened the door fully, causing a boy who was tightly gripping the handle to stumble over his feet into the classroom.
"Who are you?" The teacher, who Adachi didn't bother to learn the name of, looked down at the shorter male standing in front of him. He was wearing a button down shirt and jeans, apparently going for the casual, intelligent look. He had coal-black hair that just reached his eyes, almost covering one. The student seemed a bit scared of the teacher, who was taller by a few inches, and also worked out. Not in the way that a nerd is scared of the big, buff bully like in middle-school novels, but more of a shy, timid fear.
The boy answered quietly, "I'm new here. Is this Mr. Jeal's room?"
The teacher said in response, "Yeah, it says it right outside the door."
A few of the students hid their smirks, and the others stayed silent. I felt pity for the new kid, who was obviously a boy of few words. His appearance made him appear friendly, but while he was polite, I doubt he will have many friends by the end of the week.
The teacher, Mr. Jeal, pointed him to the seat next to me by the labs. The boy sat, setting his bag on the floor, on the metal stool that was used for the higher tables. I nodded and gave a greeting in the direction of the nervous student, but he didn't reply.
"Don't talk much? Me neither. People start conversations to talk about stuff I don't care about, and all the awkward forced smiling and nodding makes me feel like I'm talking to a toddler who I can't understand to save my life." I could see a hint of a smile dancing on the boy's lips. It was obvious he wanted to talk to someone, just didn't know how.
In a whisper, he told me his name. "Ann. You can call me Ann."
"Okay. Ann. That's an easy name to remember."
Ann listened to the teacher quietly, and when the bell rang, he got up, grabbed his bag that he hadn't opened, and left. I packed my notebook and put my black ink pen into my pencil case, putting that in my own backpack, and walked out the door. I nearly walked into someone exiting the room, though.
"Sorry." I mumbled, then noticed the same boy standing in the hall from earlier. "Ann?"
He turned, eye-level to me, then pulled his schedule out. Putting his finger on the paper, Ann pointed to a room number.
"Don't know the room?"
All I got in response was a helpless shrug. I furtively glanced around at the thinning crowds of students surrounding us. I saw the teacher name next to the room number, and realised his next class was with me. I grabbed his wrist and pulled him with me as he walked obediently behind me. We were stared at, but I didn't care one bit. Let them stare.
The hallways now contained only the kids that skip their classes or don't care about being late. I, however, liked to stay out of the teacher's eyes, and wanted to be on-time. Scurrying into the class, I sat as the bell rang. Ann sat across from me, since I sat alone, something I tried to do in most classes. I swear I could hear his heart pounding from me nearly dragging him down the hall by his right arm. He looked embarrassed, and folded and unfolded his hands over and over.
