The school bell rings throughout the high school campus. Marcus quickly weaves through the seniors and juniors to the front lawn; past it is a chain-link gate to leave school grounds, which is where he swiftly proceeds through. Last week was freshmen orientation; he didn't attend any mixers or dances (why would they hold one this early?), so he currently has no new friends.
He does have Akira and Natsuki, both Japanese; anti-socials stick together, but Marcus also lacks their intelligence, leaving only his wit and curiosity to get him through social interaction (and life for that matter). Across the street is a dog park that Marcus has frequently visited since he first moved out to the town Denver, eight years ago at age six.
Marcus carefully crosses the small busy street to the park with his backpack jiggling heavily on his back. The big dogs run around and play with one another in the nearby pen; the smaller dogs have their own pen further down the concrete park road, which loops the edges of the park and is the only man-made structure within the tiny park. It's roughly half the size of a football field, regarding total square feet. The only other structure is a playground adjacent to the park, for children, but sometimes used by the students; the juniors hate to admit they're still children, unlike the seniors who wear it with pride.
Marcus enters through the second safety gate into the pen, immediately getting sniffed by a golden retriever.
"How're you doing buddy?" Marcus crouches down. The overjoyed retriever tackles him to the floor, licking Marcus' face.
"Oi, Oliver, offa him!" The owner calls out. The retriever hops over Marcus to his own.
"Don't tackle people okay boy? Goood booy! You alright kiddo?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Marcus answers, standing up to dust himself. He walks over to Oliver, who's now sitting in the shade next to his owner, to pet him once more.
"How old is he?"
"Ollie is seven years strong," the owner says proudly. He lightly slaps Oliver's butt, but he doesn't care. His tail wags from side to side while Marcus pats his head goodbye.
Marcus plays with the other present dogs for an hour before moving onto the smaller pen. Marcus is like an extrovert, but for animals. Whenever they are present, he gets excited and full of energy, just like them; though sometimes the wildlife and stays get a bit hostile and he has to use that energy to book it.
Regardless, he enters the pen and is greeted by a small pup. She's a corgi-husky breed, with a black and grey coat for a dog that could fit in a purse. She jumps and runs around him while Marcus marvels at her features.
He crouches down to level with her and she leans in to sniff him. This takes her a few minutes, but Marcus gets to pet her while she does. After getting to know him, she runs away to play with the other pups.
Marcus' phone buzzes in his pocket a few times in quick succession; it's one of his parents calling.
"Hello,"
"Hey Marc, your mother and I are going out to get some dinner from a taco truck we saw the other day; you want anything?"
"Nah I'm fine for now; I had a hefty lunch."
"Okay. Where're you at right now?"
"I'm still at the dog park."
"Alrighty. Check back in with us when you get home. Bye."
"See you."
Marcus waits three seconds before hanging up. Then it buzzes again, but at a slower rate; that means it's a friend. He checks the caller id and finds it to be Akira
"Yo,"
"Where are you?"
"Dog park, Why?"
"Some new kid in the club is talking major shit; he says he can beat anyone at Smash Bros."
"So? Fuck him up."
"You're telling me you don't wanna have the privilege of playing against the shittiest recruit to exist?"
"I do, but I'm at the dog park."
"Fair point. I'm doing it then."
"Ight fuck you bye."
"Bitch ass, bye."
Akira hangs up. The phone's blank screen reflects his image in the sunlight. It's hard to discern his hazel eyes and short dark-brown hair from black, but his few pimples and rough facial features are simple finds.
Marcus decides to watch the game and then head home. He bids the pups goodbye and makes his way back. On his way he runs into Natsuki, who seems slightly annoyed.
"Hi Marc, where are you going?" She smiles.
"George Society meet, you?"
"Dog Park," she answers.
"Well, be wary of the golden retriever because he will tackle you with love."
"I'm frail but I'm not that weak," she pouts.
"Yeah sure, but he's a big boy so good luck holding your ground. To put in some perspective: he took me down," Marcus warns
"Okay but you're just as skinny as I am. You look like you starved for a month," she laughs.
"Keep whining while my metabolism reaches inhumane levels and I transcend existence," he counters. Natsuki waves goodbye and Marcus crosses the street. Traffic is slowed up the street and there are no cars on this street.
He reflects a bit on Natsuki's comment regarding his physique. Marcus' muscles are minimal at best, turning him into what looks like a living skeleton. His high metabolism rate is the cause, but it also lets him eat whatever and whenever without worrying about gaining weight.
Marcus is mildly self-conscious when it comes to his body and behavior, but they aren't the reason he wears layers and clothing that cover him up. Ever since he moved out here, he's found something that got himself hurt or in trouble. Scrapes, bruises, and cuts litter his body, mostly his arms. Their sources are often animal claws, but sometimes metal and wood shards, or any kind of shrapnel for that matter.
One time he went to school wearing summer clothing and he was called into the office and put on suicide watch because they thought it was self harm; technically it was because the wounds didn't stop his curious endeavors, but they didn't have the intention of harming himself. Since then he's worn concealing clothing so that students, faculty, or anyone bothers him about the cuts and bruises. The layers also give him tons of pockets to hold whatever he wants to stuff into his pockets.
Today, Marcus is wearing black jeans, an open grey button-up (with a dragon design on the back), and a light-grey long sleeve beneath the button-up. He's not good with fashion, so he just makes the colors match; today was kind of an edgy emo look that, in hindsight, seemed decent. As the day went by he realized how the outfit stuck out like a sore thumb in the sea of vibrant colors students wear.
He arrives at the new building, with some students straggling around, either waiting for sports or just hanging around.
"Marcus, can you do something for me real quick?" Mr. Brewer calls out. Marcus turns and spots the teacher sitting alone at a lunch bench. He walks over and notices Brewer has a stack of papers; this might not be a fun job for Marcus.
"You're headed to the St. George meet right?" Brewer confirms.
"I am indeed, why?" Marcus wonders.
"Can you give Troy this envelope for me please?" he kindly asks, handing it to Marcus.
"Yessir," Marcus accepts, taking the envelope. He spots Akira's name in the top of the test Brewer is grading; he has only one mistake.
"You don't mind if I tell Akira he missed one question just to fuck with him?" Marcus jokes.
"Sure, just don't incriminate me; also you shouldn't swear. You know I'm fine with it but I know a lot of my coworkers aren't," Brewer warns.
"Thanks for the heads up; see you tomorrow," Marcus waves.
"See you tomorrow."
Marcus heads into the new building and takes two rights. The first right is just to the hallway, but the second one is to the stairs just around the corner(s). Up he goes, taking two lefts to realign with the hallway on the second floor. All the way down the hall is Mrs. Abernathy's room; it doubles as the journalism and St George Society club room.
St George Society is the first club Marcus joined. The whole premise is for anti-socials to make friends in a friendly yet competitive environment. Meets are just students bringing games of any sort (including one member, William, who consistently brings his Nintendo Switch), ranging from video games to card games.
It kind of feels like an underground operation (ironically run on the second floor) because half the games they play are banned by the school board due to violence or gambling. Mrs Abernathy disregards this and plays card games with Mr. Brewer, the other faculty member required for the club, and sometimes dabbling in Mario Kart. They do have to lock the doors because of this while Abernathy slyly covers her door windows with notices and announcements.
Marcus knocks on the door and waits for someone to answer. Akira answers and lets him in. William hooked up his Switch onto the projector, displaying the system's screen onto the pull-down screen; players chaotically button mash while learning to play Super Smash Bros Ultimate. Mrs Abernathy plays solitaire at a desk in the corner; the game looks just about finished.
"I missed it didn't I?" Marcus groans.
"Yes, you completely missed it. He left soon after I three-stocked him with jigglypuff," Akira says triumphantly.
"Who'd he pick?"
"Meta Knight. Must've thought he was just as broken as Brawl," Akira explains. Marcus can't help but laugh at the kid's stupidity.
"Abernathy didn't appreciate my actions, but the kid had it coming. Besides, acting like an ass is a big no around here so he would've gotten kicked anyways."
"What'd he do?"
"He shit talked everyone within a minute and looked like he wanted to throw hands."
"Yeah that'll get you kicked alright."
A phone alarm goes off, signaling the end of the meeting.
"Fuck man i just got here!" Marcus complains.
"Hey, language! There are children here, including myself," Abernathy reprimands.
"You're not a child," Jane, the club secretary, chuckles. For a junior, she's quite nice to be around.
"You're telling that to a woman who mildly cried when her DS died in the middle of a test," Abernathy reminds. Jane, realizing she was wrong, gave up the argument.
"So that's why you seemed out of it!" Akira snaps his fingers.
"What?" Marcus wonders.
"When I gave the syllabus test, during second period's test my DS died. I was playing Animal Crossing and knew I lost a lot of progress because I forgot to save," Abernathy explains.
"I had to act like something happened to my family to cover it up," she laughs. Everyone talks among each other as they pack up and head out.
"Oh shit, Troy!" Marcus calls out.
"Huh?" Troy returns. Marcus hands the envelope to him and then leaves with Akira.
"Bro I was at the dog park and as soon as I entered the big pen, a golden retriever fucking tackled me," Marcus laughs.
"He fucking KNEW you were coming and was ready to beat your ass," Akira jokes.
"That's him officer, that bitch who petted the other dog and not me," Marcus continues. Akira laughs with him.
"Oh, when's the next Trades Club meeting? Some girl came asking for Abernathy's help. Somehow it ended with her requesting I tutor the girl and we agreed to do it at the next Trades Club meeting," Akira explains. Marcus temporarily forgot about the Trades Club. It's basically just tutoring and apprenticeship to trades and other useful skills. He's been meaning to join but never got around to it.
"I don't know, but I'll tell you if I find out; gotta find the damned place first," Marcus chuckles.
"Alright I'll do the same," Akira thanks. After leaving school grounds, they depart, living in opposite directions; Akira and Natsuki live north of the school, while Marcus lives south of it. The street that the high school is on divides the adjacent neighborhoods; Marcus wonders what it's like to be neighbors with a childhood friend like Akira.
Sometimes he wishes he could be anywhere but here.
After a decent walk, Marcus arrives back home while the moon takes the stellar stage. He pulls off his key from a belt loop on his jeans and jams it into the lock. Marcus enters the house and walks up the stairs.
Immediately to the left is his room, and to his right is the bathroom. At his right flank is the loft and another hallway to his other flank, which leads to the master bedroom and office. Having had a long day, Marcus slings of his bag and collapses onto his bed.
The new kid creeps back into his mind. That behavior is just like Marcus: loud and proud with a tint of anti-social insanity fueled by unadulterated rage. It takes a lot of self-control to keep his head; something slipping from his hands as of late.
If only he could go someplace where social barriers didn't bind him. A place he could just be blunt and honest. Some place he could learn to not be an ass all the time.
His introvert personality isn't what needs to be changed, but rather his behavior when he has to engage with others. Tonight, Marcus dreams of a place like this. In the morning he forgets everything, but the general feeling and mood remain; even a vivid image of the place.
It was a summer camp, with a canteen, beach, dorms, the like. The ideal summer vacation with fellow youths, if you were into that. Marcus only remembers riding a bus and arriving at the gates and unloading his suitcase; after that, he woke up.
Marcus throws himself out of his bed and showers. After showering, he eats breakfast. After breakfast, he leaves.
The whole routine takes about half an hour. He checks his phone and notices a text from his mother:
"Dad and I are staying at a motel tonight. We'll tell you about it when we get home. Love you and have a good day!"
He gently smiles in anticipation and walks to school. Since he lives so close to school and has nothing to kill time, he arrives just before the first bell. Once he steps foot on school grounds the bell rings, commanding students to go to their homeroom.
After only ten minutes, Marcus regrets coming to school. The boring drone of forced enthusiasm on the loudspeakers makes one instant many. Marcus wants to be anywhere but here, putting his head on the desk and shielding his face from the blaring lights above.
For a moment, he feels a cool breeze on his face while a warm gentle light caresses his face. Confused, Marcus opens his eyes. It hits him that he's back at the summer camp.