Sprouts [HOLD]

ONE

I WALKED IN THE RAIN on the way to school in the morning. I wasn't complaining, though, I like the rain. It felt refreshing afterward, like whatever happened before washed away; a new start.

I stepped carefully around the worms who were escaping from their flooded abodes. Why should I step on them?

My name's Oliver, but my friends (my mom) call me Ollie. We moved to Utah after my dad got some new business job, I didn't object. It's not one of those stories where I didn't want to move because I'm leaving my friends behind. Honestly, I didn't have real friends, more just acquaintances.

But you probably don't care about me and that's okay, not many people do. I just figured an introduction was polite.

However, I am going to a school school which is quite nerve wracking. I can barely tell Subway workers what I want on my sandwich without getting lightheaded.

But it's okay, because I don't have to talk.  Ever, if I don't want to. When I turned onto the street and saw the school ahead, instantly, my palms were soaked. All the people, the teachers, the girls—

I can't do this, man. I was frozen in the middle of the sidewalk, staring at the building. Is education really that important?

There was a tingling sensation underneath my skin. I gripped down hard on my forearm and practiced some breathing exercises, but it was pointless at this point. It started to itch.

So, as I approached the front doors, I looked like a meth addict, scratching my neck, my forearm and my shoulder until they were red.

I couldn't help it. It felt like having the worst mosquito bites in the world. Nevertheless, I opened the door with a shaky hand.

A wave of school air slapped me in the face, shouting at me that it was real and there was no going back. I started to wonder why I wasn't homeschooled.

My long legs felt like Jell-O as I walked down the hallway, everybody seemed to be minding their business, but it felt like everyone's eyes were on me, staring at me. They see me.

I kept my head down, trying my hardest not to make eye contact with anyone. My morning is fine. I'm fine, how are you? School's great. Yada, yada, yada.

That's when I realized I had no idea where I was going. I couldn't look at my map now, everyone will think I'm an idiot. So, I tucked myself away in the boy's bathroom, locking myself in an empty stall.

I took the crumpled sheet of paper out of my back pocket and scanned it carefully. Down the hall, hook a right, up the stairs, first period is on the left. Shouldn't be that hard, hopefully I was right. I don't know what I'd do if I walked into the wrong classroom. Everyone's eyes on me wondering why the hell I'm there. Die maybe?

I proceeded to scratch my arm, trying not to seem awkward. Lucky for me, the bathroom was currently empty. How convenient.

Solitude wouldn't last long, though. Class starts in six minutes. I followed the mental path I made. Down the hall, right, stairs, left. Itching my neck and muttering to myself the whole time. Not sketchy at all.

I don't think I looked intimidating, though. Just strange. I walked up the stairs, praying that I wouldn't fall flat on my face. I picked up my feet a little more than need be, just in case.

The last thing I wanted was the make scene and have my rep ruined on the first day. Everyone would remember the tall brunette who ate it on the stairs.

I looked up at he plaque above the classroom door. Room 147. I double-checked the room number on my sheet. It was right. God, I hope it's right.

The door was open, so I just walked in, making awkward direct eye-contact with my teacher. She was sitting there, reading glasses on. "Hello," she smiled warmly, making me feel a bit more welcome. But then I looked over at the full seats, everyone was staring at me. I wanted to sink into the floor and disappear, but that was impossible.

"Hi.." I choked out, trying to find an empty seat I could take. Finally, I found one. It wasn't ideal, but it was better than just standing there. Without saying anything else, I walked over and sat down, slinging my backpack to hang on the back of my chair. I stared down at my desktop, picking at my fingers.

People were talking, were they talking about me? They're talking about you, Ollie. Why are you so weird? You look like a psychopath.

I looked at my arm, the skin tingling even more than before. Not now... Then, it stopped. It didn't tingle anymore, but a small green sprout poked out from my arm. Bright green and healthy. No, no, no, no...! Quickly, I rolled my sleeve down over my arm.

I felt like passing out, getting progressively dizzy. I just had to hold it together for the day. Just six more hours.