"Wakey wakey, Aston!" shouted a large, pot-bellied man as he dove onto his son's bed, "today starts the worst four years of your LIFE!"
The young male in question groaned under his father's weight. Roughly fourteen years with this family and he still wasn't quite used to that kind of wake up call. "Dad," he muttered groggily into the pillow, "you're suffocatin' me."
With a laugh, the elder of the pair rose to his feet and reached down to ruffle his son's already unruly bedhead. "Ya got an hour ta get ready," he informed the younger, "but if ya can do it in forty-five I'll drive ya to school." That was enough to convince him to get up. No bus? Hell yeah!
Somehow managing to drag his half-awake self out of bed, he took what was probably the quickest shower of his life and pulled on the first outfit he dug out of his dresser (namely, a red v-neck and a pair of black skinny jeans). He then spent a couple of minutes double checking his backpack's contents. First day of high school? He'd rather not forget a freaking pencil. After assuring himself he had everything necessary, he swung the red bag over his shoulder and proceeded down the narrow staircase to the kitchen.
"Could it possibly be?!" cried a plump young woman from her station at the stove, spinning around to face Aston with wide eyes. "My lil' devil is awake- an' ready, no less- on time?!" She mock gasped then, clutching her chest with both hands and bending forward. "My boy, he- he's- growin' up on me?!" she wailed, tossing her head forward so her black curls curtained her face.
"Actually, dad said if I was ready by quarter past he'd drive me insteada makin' me take the bus," Aston told her with a sheepish grin. She immediately straightened her back, pushing her hair behind her ears as she rolled her eyes.
"That'll do it," she sighed, a smile playing across her face. She returned her attention to the stove, where a pan had begun sizzling rather menacingly. "You want 'em fried or scrambled, babycakes?"
He spent a moment pondering his options before he replied, "eh, hm... Scrambled?" She hummed in response to acknowledge him, and he took that as his cue to slump onto one of the stools at their island with a loud yawn.
"Still not quite awake yet?" his mother teased from across the room. He made a short, garbled sound in response.
Post breakfast, Aston found himself in the passenger seat of his father's little gray car. He clutched his bag somewhat nervously, watching the houses passing them by. He swallowed.
"Nervous?" his father asked, glancing over briefly at a stop sign. Aston didn't reply. "Well, don' be! You're gonna totally knock 'em dead in there. Or maybe ya won't an' you'll end up alone on yer first day. Either way, jus' be confiden' an' it'll pay off. Probably. Well, yer ma's better at pep talks than I am." As they pulled up out front of the building, Aston retrieved the envelope from his bag labelled Main Office and reluctantly stepped out of the vehicle.
"You got this!" his dad called, "see ya tonight, bud." With that, Aston shut the door and his father drove away. Bracing himself, he entered the school with a faux-confident stride.
He barely remembered his tour of the building from the summer, but he remembered just enough to find the main office. He slid the envelope into the little mail slot by the reception window, then proceeded to follow the bright yellow arrows declaring "FRESHMEN - THIS WAY!" down a long corridor to the cafeteria. Upon stepping inside, he was nearly taken to the ground by a group of boys fighting over a snapback.
"Watch out!" one of them cried as he darted past, "don't hurt the newbies!" He turned back to flash Aston a pearly white grin, and his blue hair was poking out from beneath his cap partially.
