daybreak || minsung

Chapter 2

I knew I wouldn't sleep well, but I was still salty about it. Literally, since I was crying for most of the night.

Breakfast with Charlie was quiet. Just listening to each other chew and shift in the rickety kitchen chairs. He wished me good luck with my day, and I smiled and said thanks — though that wasn't going to happen.

I didn't want to be early to school, but I didn't want to stay in the house, either. I flung on my coat and stalked out into the rain. My truck started with one try — which almost made my mouth do a thing resembling a smile — but the volume surprised me. It was like continuous gunfire. Oh well. What was I expecting?

Once I'd parked in the school lot, I walked toward a little building with a sign that read 'front office.' I shook my hair out like a dog before I turned a corner and saw a person seated behind a counter.

She looked up. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, I'm Minho Lee."

Recognition flashed across her face. "Of course." She ducked down and rummaged around under the counter. "I have your schedule right here, and a map of the school." She slid some papers toward me and pointed out a few details, highlighting the best routes to each class. She gave me a slip for all my teachers sign, which I was supposed to bring back at the end of the day. I thanked her, and she welcomed me to Forks, saying I'd like it here. I smiled, but it disappeared as soon as I'd turned my back.

Other students were starting to arrive. I drove around the school, following the current of traffic. I was relieved to see that my truck fit in pretty thoroughly — save for the noise. A lot of the cars were older, nothing flashy, except for one distractingly bright silver Volvo. I cut the engine and pretended to get some documents in order while I calmed myself. I can get through this without going crazy or crying or both, I repeated in my head, knowing it was a lie. It wasn't like someone was going to bite me...

I finally got out of the truck.

I slowly made my way down the sidewalk, trying to memorize the map. I didn't want to have it hovering in front of my face all day, but everything was looking turned-around already. I was sure my trademarked Confused Face was making an appearance.

The classroom was tiny in comparison to my old school. The people in front of me stopped to hang up their jackets, and I copied them.

I took the slip to the teacher at the front of the room. I saw his name was Mr. Mason. When he read my name, he looked up at me, looked back down, looked up again — a literal, actual double-take — and tried to cover it up with a nod and a smile. He told me I'd be seated in the back row, and I thanked him, whirling around and cringing into my chair. It was good I was in the back. Harder for classmates to stare when they had to spin their head 180 degrees, owl-style.

When the bell rang, a boy leaned across the aisle to talk to me.

"You're Minho Lee, aren't you?" he asked.

"Yup."

"Where's your next class?"

"Um, Government, Jefferson, in building six."

"I'm on my way to building four, but I could show you the way."

I smiled politely. "Thanks."

We got our jackets and left class, out into the rain. I thought there might be a few kids who were sneaking up on us, trying to eavesdrop. I may have been paranoid. I swore I saw a poltergeist wandering Charlie's halls when I got up to pee at one in the morning. In hindsight, it just as easily could have been a human-shaped coat rack or my own reflection.