Random Short Stories

Left Handed

This one is kind of fun. And I wrote it in one sitting on my phone over the span of like an hour. So it's probably not perfect, but it's a little bit different, I think. Hope you like it! (And sorry that I haven't updated in like 3 weeks...)

The first day of school is the worst. That's something that every high schooler can agree with. Your summer freedom is suddenly gone, and you're forced to spend hours inside this heat-trapping prison with some people who still haven't adopted the habit of hygiene.

For me, the first day is awful for another reason: I'm left handed. Don't get the wrong idea, I'm not ashamed to be left handed! It's a fun little quirk that I enjoy to use to remind myself that not everyone follows the same steps in doing a project. Being unique isn't odd; it's normal. However, this particular uniqueness of mine is why I look upon my new high school with complete dread.

I wrinkle my nose, glancing over at my older brother as he smoothly steers the car into a staff parking spot. He pulls the keys out of the ignition before turning to look at me.

"You ready?"

"Are you serious? Were you or were you not the person I complained to all summer about going back to school?"

Michael chuckles, placing his hand on the door handle. "I remember hours of you saying things while I was trying to play COD," he clarifies.

Rolling my eyes, I open the door and step out of the car, waiting only a moment for him to do the same, pulling a bag out with him.

"You're all adulty now. You shouldn't still be spending hours on video games," I inform him, stepping to his side as we approach the big brown building.

"You can never age out of video games, Melinda."

I don't make another comment, knowing he's right. I'm not sure that I could just one day stop playing video games.

Crowds of students are pouring into the front doors, and I cringe at the thought of how many times today someone will say "Oh my gosh, you're left handed! That's so cool!"

"Michael, I want you to know that I seriously considered showing up today with a giant sign that says: 'I'm left handed. Now move along.'"

He laughs. "I think that would garner more attention than you want."

I grumble a soft agreement, and he laughs louder.

"Hey, if you ever need a break from the onslaught of questions, you remember where to find me?"

"Room U-42. Sir, yes sir." I give him a sarcastic salute as we finally reach the front doors.

"Alright, alright. I'll see you later."

"Good luck with your freshman!" I call as he starts to walk away from me. I stop in the middle of the flow of people, watching my brother's average-height frame blend in with the students around him.

Then I turn myself around and step out of the way. For a moment, I watch my new peers, trying to figure out how this school works. When I come up empty handed, I pull a folded piece of paper out of my pocket: the map of the school.

It takes me a moment to figure out where I am in relation to everything else, but I eventually make sense of it all. With a deep breath, I start towards room I-15.

When I find the room, I notice that there aren't any students inside it yet. I'm not sure if there's some kind of unspoken rule that says the less time you're in the classroom, the cooler you are. Because that was a thing at my old school. No one dared to be the first in the room. Which is why everyone flooded in right as the bell went off.