New Kid On An Old Block

Chapter One

I walked into my new school terrified and friendless. What the hell was I going to do? I'd been at a private school all throughout elementary school and middle school until now, my 8th grade year. Then again, I had no friends at the private school either. I was the faggot who tried too hard. I'd try to flirt with girls to prove that I'm not gay, and it got thrown in my face. Apparently I overcompensate too much. Hell, the only time I'd ever been kissed was by some random girl who was dared to do it, then when I got excited that someone showed any interest in me, I got shoved into my locker and laughed at by her, "Don't get your hopes up. I was dared to do it. You're ugly anyway." She glared and stalked off to her group of laughing friends. That one hurt. I even apologized to her as she walked away. My first kiss wasn't even special in any way, shape or form. I was just the one to laugh at. I'd try to fit in with everyone else, making jokes with them, all for them to just stare at me like I was some sort of idiot. I overcompensated on trying to make friends too, I guess. I'm 14 and I have no one and nothing. My parents are great parents, but they're constantly out of town for weeks on end. Both of them gone for business trips. My dad worked at a major electronic company, while my mom worked for a major bank company with banks all across the United States. Their jobs were the reason I'd moved from England to the United States when I was 7. 
To compensate for being alone at just about any given time, running the entire household by myself apart from the weeks in between that my parents were home, I took my frustration out in three ways.
Playing my guitar and singing, drawing, and thinking about how much I hated myself. Why did I have to be alone? What was so wrong with me? So I took it out on myself. I deserved it right? Clearly.
I leaned against the wall, staring at the new campus around me. I tugged my hoodie sleeve down, making sure the cuts on my wrists weren't visible, despite the fact that I had a few bracelets on too. I hiked my jeans up a bit to make sure the marks on my hips didn't show, and I just hoped no one saw the scars that littered the side of my neck. I always attempted, but always chickened out. I was too scared to die, I don't want to die, I just don't want to be alone anymore.

I looked at the schedule I pulled out of my pocket and faced the new school year alone. 
There was one thing that I'm grateful for. The weather in September isn't too bad right now. Still warm, but with a nice breeze, not too hot and not cold yet. 
I read my locker number, 209. Okay. 
I looked around for the lockers. I started walking, thinking to myself that clearly, I'm being stupid. I can't be standing here at the gate and expect to see everywhere that I need to go. 
I headed past the front bit of the school where students who seemed excited for the school year to start were talking to their friends and looking over each other's schedules. I followed a few to where I figured the lockers might be, and that seemed to be a good idea because there they were, down the front area and to the left. 
I started looking at the locker numbers, occasionally being shoved away by other people looking for theirs. No one was being intentionally mean, I saw other people getting shoved too. Probably just excitement to find their locker.
I found mine almost to the end of the hallway. That was nice, not too many people were on this end. 
I looked at the code and dialed it in, popping the locker open and looking around at the space. I looked at my schedule again. 
English
History
First break
Math
Art
Lunch
Science

That didn't seem awful. I put my math, art and science books away and closed the locker, looking at the time on my phone before looking around at the classrooms.
I saw the class numbers on my schedule, but the problem was finding the actual fucking class.
I started walking and saw campus security. Surely they could help.
They explained where every class was before rushing off to stop some group of kids from being stupid.
I sighed and headed towards the English class.
I was the first there. I waited outside the door for others to come.

Inside the room, the others seemed to know where to go, piling around their friends or familiar faces, choosing spots where they could talk to each other and work together.
I looked around, trying to find any available seat. I frowned when I realized that the only spot left was one all the way towards the back. Once again, I was the outcast and I hadn't even been here for a solid hour. 
"Everyone, I recognize all of your faces from last year, but we have a new student joining us." My teacher looked at her clipboard that had all of the students names. I swallowed hard.
"Alexander Gaskarth?" She looked around.
I stood up, "That's me ma'am..." I spoke so quietly it was nearly a whisper. I looked down at my shoes.
"Come up here and introduce yourself to the class, tell us some things about you." She smiled.
I closed my eyes and chewed on my bottom lip. They're going to make fun of me anyway. I slowly walked up to the front, avoiding all of the staring eyes and the few 'emo' comments thrown my way. That was such a stupid thing. Long hair, skinny jeans and hoodies made someone emo? What even was emo? I wasn't Pete fucking Wentz, jesus christ. 
"H-hi...Uh...I'm Alex...I play guitar and draw....I moved here when I was seven from England..."
I was cut off by some idiot in a letterman jacket, he was on the football team clearly, "Where's your accent then?!"
I blushed, "It uh...It goes away after a while...I could still talk in it, my parents still have theirs...Just uh...It's...I don't know...It just goes away..." I stared down at my feet again and continued, "I guess that's it...I like writing and science...Art will be fun I think...Umm...Yeah. That's all I've got." I mumbled and walked quickly back to my seat. I sat down and kept my eyes on my desk. I could feel everyone else staring at me.
"Thank you Alexander." My teacher smiled and turned her back to write on the board. Alexander. Good lord. I said Alex, didn't I? 
I felt a piece of paper hit my shoulder. Wonderful. I've been here less than an hour and I'm already getting things thrown at me. New start my fucking ass.
I grabbed it and looked up, but instead of seeing an angry or mocking face, I saw a guy with short hair sitting in the row up from me giving me a small smile. I opened the crumpled up piece of paper. 
'Hey, I'm Rian. Cool that you play guitar. Sit at lunch with us today. It's me and a guy named Jack. He plays guitar too. I'm on the drum line. Just look for me in the cafeteria.'