New Kid

A Mundane Morning

February was more piercing than usual this year. The crisp air faintly brushed against my face, tickling me like feathers. People paved the sidewalk, smiling and chatting; their breaths emitted a thin cloud of smoke that curled in the draft. Cherry blossoms slid past my frozen, sore feet. It was already sakura season. The dark, purple sky slowly was devoured by an orange hue. My lungs absorbed the breeze and let out a pale fume.

As usual, I sat there, waiting for the bus to arrive. My foot repeatedly tapped in impatience as my bones trembled. It wasn't a special day from what I foresaw. Jealously, I stared at the kids surrounding me. They looked quite happy in their friend groups. I wasn't upset; no, I was just disappointed. Looking up at the sky, I could relate to the lonely stars: so many of them, yet none close to each other.

A bright light flashed into everyone's eyes as the bus arrived at our stop. It cruised down the road and turned around in the parking lot. I got off my seat and looked behind me. Apartment towers shaded the lot as the bus continued to where we were. The foggy aura of the bus lights was blinding. With one hand tucked in a pocket, I checked my phone with the other. Some freshmen inside the bus peered through the window as I tried not to make eye contact.

Like every day, I was last to enter the bus. But unlike everyone else, I didn't have to show my bus ID. Instead, I greeted the bus driver while looking down at my phone. He smiled and closed the door behind me as I looked up at the filled bus. There was always a spot by the window that was empty for me. I slung off my backpack and sat down. Then—with some trouble—slipped my phone into my pocket and leaned against the window. My warm cheek squished against the cold, dirty window. I wiped the condensation off and looked at the slowly rising sun.

Cars rolled by as I gazed at the familiar landscape. The sky gradually became brighter as the lustrous lights of the city switched off one by one. Neon signs and the illuminated convenience stores dissolved as the day came. The bus seemed a couple of minutes late since there was a building we would've passed by now—the ice cream shop. I leaned back on my seat and suddenly became conscious of everyone's talking. Noise filled my ears. It was easy to imagine how hard it was for the bus driver to concentrate. He had told the loudest people to sit in the back, but of course, there was no effect; they were loud enough to be heard for kilometers. It was no use to return to my concentrated state of mind. Behind me was a freshie—he was always doing homework on the bus.

"Trigonometry, huh?" I inquired.

The boy looked up from his mini "workspace" and took his pencil out of his mouth.

"Yep. It's not as bad as I expected though," the boy replied with a blank stare.

I assumed he was deep in thought before resuming, "Do you need any help?"

"No. I doubt you could do this," the boy joked, "Most third year kids say they forget trig."

I smirked and nodded.

After a couple of seconds, coupled with awkward silence, I returned to my original position and realized the bus had arrived.

Although the bus was a little delayed than usual, it was still about ten minutes before school started. I stepped out of the bus first—since I sat near the front—and looked at the giant clock at the courtyard: 7:05 AM. My feet hit the hard concrete floor, and the sound of people talking reverberated in my mind. I kept my head down and plowed toward the library. The giant cherry tree at the center of the courtyard loomed over students as a roofed walkway shadowed me.

Sounds of chatter scattered around the yard. It was easy to predict where everyone would be. Students were in their usual spots talking in their little niches. Some people stood behind the entrances of the building, waiting to be first when the bell rang. Since I was heading to the library, I walked into the building. It was peaceful. The quiet, empty building left me breathing space, so I took a deep breath and continued down the hallway. Glass windows to the left displayed the crowds outside. To the right, there were a bunch of awards students in the school won. I wasn't insecure, but it would be nice to win something. Achievements were something I never earned. All I had going for me was an accelerated math class I was failing.