Carolina Wren

Chapter 8

Wren's POV

Dylan is still yawning as we set out at 6:45 Tuesday morning. The sun is still lazily burning through a layer of mist as both of our feet trudge against the concrete sidewalks. He's got on a button up shirt buttoned all the way up with the short sleeves rolled up a few times, his best pair of jeans, a card on a string around his neck proclaiming his name and teacher, and his tennis shoes. He even let me comb his hair this morning instead of just running his hands through it.

I look almost the exact same as yesterday but with me having to wear tennis shoes every day, that's going to be a running theme. Our last schools were closer to our house, so we didn't have to walk as far and I switched things up from time to time. It can't be helped, though.

Once the youngest two are dropped off at daycare, we start towards Dylan's school. "Are you excited?" I asked him, nudging him gently. He shrugs, his eyes on the ground. "What's on your mind?"

"I'm going to be the new kid," he mutters dejectedly. Our last move was right before he started kindergarten, so this is his first experience being the new kid in school, but I'm sure he's seen the way other kids were treated at his last school.

"I'm nervous, too. It's no fun being the new kid in class. Just remember it's everyone else's first day of second grade, too," I tell him gently. "Be friendly and considerate, that's all you can do. You can only control yourself. For all you know, there's someone else in your class that could really use a friend, too."

He's still nervous when we reach his school at exactly 7:15 when they unlock the doors. He hugs me tighter and longer than usual before he sets his shoulders, takes a deep breath, and walks towards the front doors. I linger until he's delivered safely into the hands of a teacher who is collecting students, checking the cards tied around their necks, and shuffling them off to the cafeteria like sheep around a shepherd.

When I reach my school, it's 7:30 and students are congregated all over the place, grouping together in their familiar cliques and chatting about their summer breaks. I don't even bother looking around for a friendly face, just trying to follow the flow of bodies until I reach the cafeteria.

There are tables lined up all around the room with students milling around and leaving with their schedules pressed to their noses. I'm jostled in every direction by errant shoulders as I try to work my way towards the table that has 10th grade K-O on a sign above it. I give a tired looking teacher my last name and I'm provided my schedule while being informed that there's no homeroom today.

I work my way out to the courtyard where it's fairly quiet before I look over my schedule.

Homeroom Room 135
Advanced English Trailer 10
Algebra II Room 220
Music Class Music Room B
Lunch
Advanced World History Trailer 32
AP Chemistry Room 107B
Japanese Room 212
Gym

My eyebrows furrow at my schedule. Music class? That wasn't what I had signed up for. I had said art...

"Hey," a deep voice says in my ear and I jump nearly a foot in the air. They start chuckling and I turn to see that it's Nathan in a school uniform. My heart stutters because even under a blazer, Nathan's arm muscles are defined and he's got that athletic appeal. "I thought that was you. We didn't see you get on the bus this morning, Kota and I were worried you wouldn't make it on time."

A gesture over his shoulder shows me where the others are under a tree in the corner of the courtyard claiming a circle of metal benches that look like they're on their sixth layer of chipping paint. They're all in the uniform, too. This must be part of what Mr. Blackbourne and Dr. Green were talking about—being an example of future expectations. "Do you want to come sit with us?" he asks hopefully and I nod. I might as well. I don't know anybody else.