High School For Percy

The First Day of School

Ferris Gyver POV

It was the first day of junior year, and much like freshman year, there was an indecisive chatter. Except now we had the authority to look down on half of the school. It was first period English with Ms. Dritz. A woman as dry and crackly as her name. Percy had returned to his spot in the back of the class. 

I sat next to him. One seat farther from the window. 

"Percy?" He started slightly and turned to face me.

"Hey, Ferris." It always surprised me how he managed to remember everyone's name even though they barely paid him mind.

"Hey yourself. Where the Hell have you been?" My tone grew in intensity. Even though he was always the odd one out, so was I. I tended to say what I thought too briskly and preferred to watch people from a distance. To be completely honest, I had gotten used to him being there. When he left I didn't want that sort of comfort back. I wanted to be alone, unattached. Now that he was back, I was forced to experience the grief of his disappearance for the first time.

"Around," he answered. 

"Around? Was there no cell reception 'around'?" I ignored that I'd never even given him a number for the time being.

"I don't have a phone or your number, those are kind of necessary for a phone call." His voice gained the slightest bit of a lilt, as he made the sarcastic comment. He seemed to really be there for a moment. 

"You could've done something, told me you were going away, but you just disappeared."

"I thought I'd be back after winter break." I looked at his face dripping in the shadows of his hood. I couldn't blame him. 

"What happened?" He took a big breath in and took out his blue smashed notebook. The metal rings clinked against the desk.

"That..." he turned his face towards me and his eyes focused on me entirely. I had his attention. "...is none of your business." Then his eyes flicked to the notebook as he opened to a fresh page and started deciphering the notes on the board.

Time lapse to lunch

I sat in the courtyard and waited for my friends. There were just two of them, they basically left me alone. The only reason I was friends with them was that they were just as misfitted as I was. Alice was an Italian immigrant and Ayah was the daughter of a refugee from Saudi Arabia. We met before freshman year in a separate orientation for people who didn't speak English as their first language. Alicia spoke Italian, Ayah spoke Arabic and I spoke Brazilian Portuguese because my mother spoke nothing else. She was originally from Brazil, she moved to the states for my father who left shortly after he learned my mom was pregnant. She stayed in spite. 

Behind me, I heard the unforgettable chatter of Alice and Ayah. Their accents had weakened over the years but were still recognizable.

"Ferris, guess what!" Hollered Alice while she was still a few meters away.

"What?"

"You know that Jackson kid? The one who disappeared last year?"

"Yeah..."

"He's back!" Alice exclaimed.

"I know!" I mocked.

"You know?" 

"Yeah, he was in my first period."

"Huh." They sat down at the old picnic table we had claimed so long ago. 

"He looked sad," commented Ayah as she glanced down at the table and her lunchbox.

"He looked like a guy we haven't seen in eight months. You feel too much," said Alice. Always the force of stinging honesty. Ayah looked offended and opened her mouth to object, but shut it quickly at the sight of Alice's face. She was smiling. Waiting for a battle of insults she knew she would win.