New Town
by MyriahRiot
“God, I **** hate this place!” Max exclaimed as he through his tray forcefully onto the lunch table. My head, as well as everyone else’s, flew up immediately.
Ah, the first day of school; what a blast! If only it were our last; but, to my friends and my dismay, after this year, we still have a whole other year to suffer through. This is the beginning of our junior year; and, already, it’s not looking so great.
“Angry much?” Amy asked, wide-eyed from his noisy entrance.
“No, I’m just peachy.” Max’s reply was thickly laced with sarcasm.
“No need to be cruel, love. What happened?” I asked, concerned for both Amy’s fragile emotional state -- she doesn’t take well to unkind words-- and Max’s building fury.
“Damn preps are starting early this year. ‘Hey fag. Why don’t you go buy some tighter pants?’ **** Bryce. I hate that dick,” Max explained as he began to calm down a bit.
“****, that kid’s a douche. Sooner or later, karma’s gonna kick his ****,” Gavin pitched in.
“Let’s hope for sooner,” Max muttered as he picked at his food.
Bryce and his equally asinine friends had declared themselves our mortal enemies at the beginning of our seventh grade year. It was the typical jocks hate the freaks situation. We’re not really freaks, but that’s about the only way to describe us in their eyes. We’re not emos; they hate the emos less than they hate us for some unknown reason. We’re not scene; they’re lumped in with the emos at our school. There aren’t many of either here so maybe that’s why they fly under the radar for the most part at least.
In all reality, we’re a bunch of metal heads. We bonded on our music way back in seventh grade and haven’t left each other’s sides since then. We’re all musicians and thrive on our music. It’s what keeps us alive and headed in the right direction. We don’t drink or do drugs, and only a few of us smoke. We prefer to live our lives above the influence.
Unfortunately, we get a lot of **** for that. Bryce and his jock and prep followers think we’re all big pussies because we don’t drink and party until we can’t remember who we are. That’s just not what we’re into. If they want to hate us for that, we’re fine with it. At least we won’t be in rehab in five years.
“Don’t worry, Max. They’ll get their punishment soon enough. We just need to be patient,” Devin said. He must have a plan. Maybe this year will be better than I thought.
About ten minutes later, the bell rang, signaling the end of first lunch. Grudgingly, my friends and I got up and headed to our fourth period study hall. Some how we had all managed to get the same study hall. We hadn’t all had a class together since freshman year. There are only six of us, but some how with this tiny school, we never manage to have a class with all of us in.
“Lyn, can you come here please?” Mrs. James asked as we all came in and sat down. She had to e one of my favorite teachers. I had her every year for study hall, and she was very familiar with me and all my friends. We’re her favorite students, although she won’t admit it.
“Yes, Mrs. James?” I asked politely as I approached her desk.
“We have an exchange student this year from England, and I was wondering if you would like to show him around the school. He seems a lot like you and the rest of your group of friends so I figured you would be the best one to show him around,” she explained. I wasn’t really into meeting new people, but I knew it had to be hard for the kid. He probably had to stay with one of the rich preppy bitches so he’d need some friends.
“Who is he staying with?” I asked.
“Jessica Adams,” she said with no emotion. We all new she didn’t like Jessica much.
“Oh, “I said. “Well, I’ll show him around.”
“Good,” she smiled, looking relieved. “His name is Curtis, and he should be here any minute.”
Curtis, I thought to my self. I hate that name. Ick. Poor kid having to suffer through life with a name like that. I hated my own name as well: Helen. How boring is that?
As I was debating all the terrible names of the world in my head, the classroom door opened reveling a tall, lanky boy holding a bright yellow pass. He walked straight to the teachers desk, not looking at anyone in the class room. He looked rather shy, hanging behind his black bangs.
“Hi,” he said nervously to Mrs. James with a thick British accent. “I’m Curtis. I was told to give you this.” he handed her his pass.
“Welcome, Curtis. And thank you,” Mrs. James replied, taking the pass from his out stretched hand. “This is Helen,” she said, motioning towards me. “She will be showing you around the school and to your classes.”
“Hey,” Curtis said, looking down at the floor.
“Hey, yourself. You can call me Lyn or Hels if you like. I prefer either to ‘Helen,’” I instructed him. He just nodded his head. This wasn’t going to be much fun. He’s too quiet. Two shy people put together equals awkward, silent disaster. “Well, let’s go,” I said as I walked towards the door after getting a pass from Mrs. James. God, I hope he talks more once we’re in the hall.
I started out the door with Curtis trailing behind me. He hadn’t looked up from the ground when I turned around to face him. Maybe if I stand here and stare at him long enough, he’ll look up. Or maybe that will just make this more awkward. Oh well, worth a shot. Either way I’ll get to see his face, I haven’t yet.
Thirty seconds later, after I just stared at the top of his head, he finally looked up. My mouth almost fell open. He was gorgeous. Wow. Fortunately for me, I kept my composure and the shock of his beauty didn’t show on my face.
“I was wondering when I was going to get to see your face,” I said, still taking in all his beautiful face. He just smiled. “Don’t talk much, eh?”
“Just kinda shy. Sorry. This place makes me nervous.” His eyes were on their way back to the ground.
“Aw, no need to be nervous. This place is as boring s it gets so don’t worry about getting overwhelmed by anything. I’m sure it will take a little getting used to, but it comes with time, of course.” looks like I’m gonna have to be the people person, damn it. “So let’s see that schedule.”
He swung his book bag off his shoulder and opened it. It took him a few seconds to dig out a folder with a bunch of brightly colored papers in it. He pulled out a bright blue paper and handed it to me.
“Well, first, we’re gonna have to find your locker. We’re not allowed to have book bags or any other type of bag during the day. It’s lame, I know. If Mr. Smith sees you with that book bag, he’ll slit both of our throats. Beware of him, he’ll pretty much hate you before you even talk to him. He hates people like us.” We started walking down the hall.
“What do you mean ‘he hates people like us?’” Curtis asked as he fell into step beside me.
“I mean he hates all the metal kids in our school. He hates me and my five best friends. We don’t cause trouble or anything. He just hates how we dress. He really hates when guys wear eyeliner. He thinks it’s ‘un-American,’” I explained as we turned the corner into the hall that both our lockers were located in.
“Wow. He sounds like a real douche,” he said, glancing down at me. That was the friendliest thing I’d seen him do so far. Poor kid really was shy as hell. It just made him cuter.
“Yeah, pretty much,” I said as I laughed. I was surprised he called him a douche. That’s something that only my friends said around here. “Well, here’s your locker. Conveniently, mine is right next to it. We must have eighth period together then.”
I took the time then to look at his schedule as he opened his locker. We had four classes together; first, fourth, seventh, and eighth.
“Hmm,” I half muttered to myself. Curtis turned to give me a questioning looking, raising an eyebrow.
“Hmm what?” he asked, a smile playing on the edges of his lips. He was slowly emerging from his shell.
“Oh. Seems we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other. We have four classes together; first, fourth, seventh, and eighth. We’ll have lunch together, too. Fist shift, right after third. It’s really stupid to have lunch at 10:30, but that’s how this place works; on pure stupidity.” He laughed at my rambling. I seemed to be doing that a lot. Let’s hope that doesn’t get me in trouble.
“So what am I going to need?” he asked, head in his locker.
“Uh, probably just a notebook and a pencil or pen or even a marker, as long as it writes, teachers aren‘t too picky.” He laughed at that as well.
“Where to now?” he asked, closing his locker.
“Well, we’ll start at the beginning of your schedule. First period would be music theory. Right this way, Sir,” I said as I whirled around and pointed in the direction of the band room where I spent the majority of my day.
We walked in silence the whole way there. This time, however, the silence was comfortable, not awkward. This kid was opening up pretty fast. I wasn’t expecting that.
“Here we are,” I announced as I opened the door into the music hall. “That way is choir,” I pointed to the right, “that way is band,” I pointed to the left. “Music theory is in the band room. Curtis nodded his head. “You have band eighth period, too,” I acknowledged, looking at his schedule. “But we’ll probably come back here after we visit all your classes so you can get the flow of it. It’s a damn hike here anyway. They need a direct hall to this place, I swear.” He smiled at me again. “Now, off to second period!”
We went through his schedule, all eight classes. We only had about ten minutes left in our hour long study hall when we walked back into the room.
“You can come sit with me and my friends if you like,” I invited him politely. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, we’d understand,” I added as I watched him look at my friends.
“No, I’d love to sit with you and your friends,” he replied, looking a bit embarrassed that I caught him scrutinizing my friends.
“Kay, lets go then.” We walked over to my group. “Hey guys, this is Curtis. He’s an exchange student from England. Curtis, these are my friends, Max, Gavin, Amy, Devon, and Andy.” I pointed to each of them as I said their name.
“Hi!” they all yelled in unison.
“Wow, that was unnecessary,” I said, shaking my head, my ears ringing a tad.
“Nah, that was a great welcome. Hey, guys,” Curtis said as he laughed at my friends overly cheerful greeting. He was going to fit into this group perfectly.
(Curtis’s POV)
This small town is going to be the death of me. It’s so dead. There are no concerts to go to; I looked into that when I first got here. The closest big city is eighty miles away, and the next closest is a hundred. What’s with that? If I’m in America, I want to experience the music! Hopefully there’s a good underground scene here though, like back home. I haven’t looked into that yet so I may luck out. Too bad that’s not likely.
The family I’m staying with is pretty cool. The parents are lenient and let me do whatever I want. They want me to take the most out of this experience. They have two kids, a son of about eight and a daughter the same age as I am. The son, Alex, is awesome. He’s so hyper and happy. Reminds me of the guys back home. I wish they could have come with me. The daughter, Jessica, on the other hand is a total bitch. She’s a preppy cheerleader type. She’s already let me know that she hates me and doesn’t want to be associated with me. Whatever. That’s probably for the best. I don’t want to be around her bitchy attitude. She hates me just for my long hair and band shirts. What the hell? How shallow is that?
For the first couple of weeks before school started, I was worried that all the kids around here were like Jessica. I can’t spend all my time with Alex and kids his age. That’s just plain creepy. I hadn’t met anyone like me around where I was staying. Of course it was the rich part of town so they were mostly preps and jocks. That’s how this small town works.
I was really nervous to start school, fearing I would be the one metal kid in a sea of preps. That would be hell on earth. So once the first day came along, I was afraid to look at anyone. They hated me at first glance. I didn’t want to be like them; I didn’t want to hate everyone just for what they looked like. I can’t be on the same level as they are. I won’t let myself be like that.
When I met Hel and her little group of friends that are just like me and all my friends back home, I could finally relax. No longer did I have to worry about not fitting in and not having friends. Hel brought me out of my frightened shell when she gave me a tour of the school. Thank God I have classes with her, too. It’s good to know that I’ll have friends. They accepted me with open arms, unlike every other person I’ve e in contact with in this school. Even most of the teachers hate me just by looking at me. What’s with this place and the hatred of anything different?
Ah, the first day of school; what a blast! If only it were our last; but, to my friends and my dismay, after this year, we still have a whole other year to suffer through. This is the beginning of our junior year; and, already, it’s not looking so great.
“Angry much?” Amy asked, wide-eyed from his noisy entrance.
“No, I’m just peachy.” Max’s reply was thickly laced with sarcasm.
“No need to be cruel, love. What happened?” I asked, concerned for both Amy’s fragile emotional state -- she doesn’t take well to unkind words-- and Max’s building fury.
“Damn preps are starting early this year. ‘Hey fag. Why don’t you go buy some tighter pants?’ **** Bryce. I hate that dick,” Max explained as he began to calm down a bit.
“****, that kid’s a douche. Sooner or later, karma’s gonna kick his ****,” Gavin pitched in.
“Let’s hope for sooner,” Max muttered as he picked at his food.
Bryce and his equally asinine friends had declared themselves our mortal enemies at the beginning of our seventh grade year. It was the typical jocks hate the freaks situation. We’re not really freaks, but that’s about the only way to describe us in their eyes. We’re not emos; they hate the emos less than they hate us for some unknown reason. We’re not scene; they’re lumped in with the emos at our school. There aren’t many of either here so maybe that’s why they fly under the radar for the most part at least.
In all reality, we’re a bunch of metal heads. We bonded on our music way back in seventh grade and haven’t left each other’s sides since then. We’re all musicians and thrive on our music. It’s what keeps us alive and headed in the right direction. We don’t drink or do drugs, and only a few of us smoke. We prefer to live our lives above the influence.
Unfortunately, we get a lot of **** for that. Bryce and his jock and prep followers think we’re all big pussies because we don’t drink and party until we can’t remember who we are. That’s just not what we’re into. If they want to hate us for that, we’re fine with it. At least we won’t be in rehab in five years.
“Don’t worry, Max. They’ll get their punishment soon enough. We just need to be patient,” Devin said. He must have a plan. Maybe this year will be better than I thought.
About ten minutes later, the bell rang, signaling the end of first lunch. Grudgingly, my friends and I got up and headed to our fourth period study hall. Some how we had all managed to get the same study hall. We hadn’t all had a class together since freshman year. There are only six of us, but some how with this tiny school, we never manage to have a class with all of us in.
“Lyn, can you come here please?” Mrs. James asked as we all came in and sat down. She had to e one of my favorite teachers. I had her every year for study hall, and she was very familiar with me and all my friends. We’re her favorite students, although she won’t admit it.
“Yes, Mrs. James?” I asked politely as I approached her desk.
“We have an exchange student this year from England, and I was wondering if you would like to show him around the school. He seems a lot like you and the rest of your group of friends so I figured you would be the best one to show him around,” she explained. I wasn’t really into meeting new people, but I knew it had to be hard for the kid. He probably had to stay with one of the rich preppy bitches so he’d need some friends.
“Who is he staying with?” I asked.
“Jessica Adams,” she said with no emotion. We all new she didn’t like Jessica much.
“Oh, “I said. “Well, I’ll show him around.”
“Good,” she smiled, looking relieved. “His name is Curtis, and he should be here any minute.”
Curtis, I thought to my self. I hate that name. Ick. Poor kid having to suffer through life with a name like that. I hated my own name as well: Helen. How boring is that?
As I was debating all the terrible names of the world in my head, the classroom door opened reveling a tall, lanky boy holding a bright yellow pass. He walked straight to the teachers desk, not looking at anyone in the class room. He looked rather shy, hanging behind his black bangs.
“Hi,” he said nervously to Mrs. James with a thick British accent. “I’m Curtis. I was told to give you this.” he handed her his pass.
“Welcome, Curtis. And thank you,” Mrs. James replied, taking the pass from his out stretched hand. “This is Helen,” she said, motioning towards me. “She will be showing you around the school and to your classes.”
“Hey,” Curtis said, looking down at the floor.
“Hey, yourself. You can call me Lyn or Hels if you like. I prefer either to ‘Helen,’” I instructed him. He just nodded his head. This wasn’t going to be much fun. He’s too quiet. Two shy people put together equals awkward, silent disaster. “Well, let’s go,” I said as I walked towards the door after getting a pass from Mrs. James. God, I hope he talks more once we’re in the hall.
I started out the door with Curtis trailing behind me. He hadn’t looked up from the ground when I turned around to face him. Maybe if I stand here and stare at him long enough, he’ll look up. Or maybe that will just make this more awkward. Oh well, worth a shot. Either way I’ll get to see his face, I haven’t yet.
Thirty seconds later, after I just stared at the top of his head, he finally looked up. My mouth almost fell open. He was gorgeous. Wow. Fortunately for me, I kept my composure and the shock of his beauty didn’t show on my face.
“I was wondering when I was going to get to see your face,” I said, still taking in all his beautiful face. He just smiled. “Don’t talk much, eh?”
“Just kinda shy. Sorry. This place makes me nervous.” His eyes were on their way back to the ground.
“Aw, no need to be nervous. This place is as boring s it gets so don’t worry about getting overwhelmed by anything. I’m sure it will take a little getting used to, but it comes with time, of course.” looks like I’m gonna have to be the people person, damn it. “So let’s see that schedule.”
He swung his book bag off his shoulder and opened it. It took him a few seconds to dig out a folder with a bunch of brightly colored papers in it. He pulled out a bright blue paper and handed it to me.
“Well, first, we’re gonna have to find your locker. We’re not allowed to have book bags or any other type of bag during the day. It’s lame, I know. If Mr. Smith sees you with that book bag, he’ll slit both of our throats. Beware of him, he’ll pretty much hate you before you even talk to him. He hates people like us.” We started walking down the hall.
“What do you mean ‘he hates people like us?’” Curtis asked as he fell into step beside me.
“I mean he hates all the metal kids in our school. He hates me and my five best friends. We don’t cause trouble or anything. He just hates how we dress. He really hates when guys wear eyeliner. He thinks it’s ‘un-American,’” I explained as we turned the corner into the hall that both our lockers were located in.
“Wow. He sounds like a real douche,” he said, glancing down at me. That was the friendliest thing I’d seen him do so far. Poor kid really was shy as hell. It just made him cuter.
“Yeah, pretty much,” I said as I laughed. I was surprised he called him a douche. That’s something that only my friends said around here. “Well, here’s your locker. Conveniently, mine is right next to it. We must have eighth period together then.”
I took the time then to look at his schedule as he opened his locker. We had four classes together; first, fourth, seventh, and eighth.
“Hmm,” I half muttered to myself. Curtis turned to give me a questioning looking, raising an eyebrow.
“Hmm what?” he asked, a smile playing on the edges of his lips. He was slowly emerging from his shell.
“Oh. Seems we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other. We have four classes together; first, fourth, seventh, and eighth. We’ll have lunch together, too. Fist shift, right after third. It’s really stupid to have lunch at 10:30, but that’s how this place works; on pure stupidity.” He laughed at my rambling. I seemed to be doing that a lot. Let’s hope that doesn’t get me in trouble.
“So what am I going to need?” he asked, head in his locker.
“Uh, probably just a notebook and a pencil or pen or even a marker, as long as it writes, teachers aren‘t too picky.” He laughed at that as well.
“Where to now?” he asked, closing his locker.
“Well, we’ll start at the beginning of your schedule. First period would be music theory. Right this way, Sir,” I said as I whirled around and pointed in the direction of the band room where I spent the majority of my day.
We walked in silence the whole way there. This time, however, the silence was comfortable, not awkward. This kid was opening up pretty fast. I wasn’t expecting that.
“Here we are,” I announced as I opened the door into the music hall. “That way is choir,” I pointed to the right, “that way is band,” I pointed to the left. “Music theory is in the band room. Curtis nodded his head. “You have band eighth period, too,” I acknowledged, looking at his schedule. “But we’ll probably come back here after we visit all your classes so you can get the flow of it. It’s a damn hike here anyway. They need a direct hall to this place, I swear.” He smiled at me again. “Now, off to second period!”
We went through his schedule, all eight classes. We only had about ten minutes left in our hour long study hall when we walked back into the room.
“You can come sit with me and my friends if you like,” I invited him politely. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, we’d understand,” I added as I watched him look at my friends.
“No, I’d love to sit with you and your friends,” he replied, looking a bit embarrassed that I caught him scrutinizing my friends.
“Kay, lets go then.” We walked over to my group. “Hey guys, this is Curtis. He’s an exchange student from England. Curtis, these are my friends, Max, Gavin, Amy, Devon, and Andy.” I pointed to each of them as I said their name.
“Hi!” they all yelled in unison.
“Wow, that was unnecessary,” I said, shaking my head, my ears ringing a tad.
“Nah, that was a great welcome. Hey, guys,” Curtis said as he laughed at my friends overly cheerful greeting. He was going to fit into this group perfectly.
(Curtis’s POV)
This small town is going to be the death of me. It’s so dead. There are no concerts to go to; I looked into that when I first got here. The closest big city is eighty miles away, and the next closest is a hundred. What’s with that? If I’m in America, I want to experience the music! Hopefully there’s a good underground scene here though, like back home. I haven’t looked into that yet so I may luck out. Too bad that’s not likely.
The family I’m staying with is pretty cool. The parents are lenient and let me do whatever I want. They want me to take the most out of this experience. They have two kids, a son of about eight and a daughter the same age as I am. The son, Alex, is awesome. He’s so hyper and happy. Reminds me of the guys back home. I wish they could have come with me. The daughter, Jessica, on the other hand is a total bitch. She’s a preppy cheerleader type. She’s already let me know that she hates me and doesn’t want to be associated with me. Whatever. That’s probably for the best. I don’t want to be around her bitchy attitude. She hates me just for my long hair and band shirts. What the hell? How shallow is that?
For the first couple of weeks before school started, I was worried that all the kids around here were like Jessica. I can’t spend all my time with Alex and kids his age. That’s just plain creepy. I hadn’t met anyone like me around where I was staying. Of course it was the rich part of town so they were mostly preps and jocks. That’s how this small town works.
I was really nervous to start school, fearing I would be the one metal kid in a sea of preps. That would be hell on earth. So once the first day came along, I was afraid to look at anyone. They hated me at first glance. I didn’t want to be like them; I didn’t want to hate everyone just for what they looked like. I can’t be on the same level as they are. I won’t let myself be like that.
When I met Hel and her little group of friends that are just like me and all my friends back home, I could finally relax. No longer did I have to worry about not fitting in and not having friends. Hel brought me out of my frightened shell when she gave me a tour of the school. Thank God I have classes with her, too. It’s good to know that I’ll have friends. They accepted me with open arms, unlike every other person I’ve e in contact with in this school. Even most of the teachers hate me just by looking at me. What’s with this place and the hatred of anything different?
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