"Ryan wake up! You're going to be late to your first day at school!" I slowly open my eyes, assaulted by the barrage of light on my eyelids beckoning me back to sleep. Unfortunately he's right, so I force myself up out of bed to go take a shower. It's crazy how time moves so fast sometimes, and so slow at others. I turn the shower on and let the warm water flow down my back washing away the dirt of yesterday's embrace. Nobody wants to be the new kid in high school, that's the kid that everyone picks on. Maybe I can make some friends today… "Ryan hurry up in there!" It feels like I just stepped in the shower, but I turn the water off and get dressed. A white long sleeved shirt, blue plaid overshirt, black jeans, and navy blue converse. I wipe the fog off of the bathroom mirror and take a look. My hair's not much shorter than my dad's, but at least I take care of mine. I grab my phone from my room then go downstairs to get in the car with my dad so he can take me to school. The hallway air is heavy with alcohol, but I won't say anything. He would just get mad if I accused him of anything. He had dropped out of high school to play guitar in a band, but when the band wasn't successful he was forced to get a desk job filing paperwork for Walgreens. I leave the bathroom and head downstairs, my dad is already waiting outside with the car running. I sprint outside and hop in the passenger seat, the air heavy with cigarette smoke. The school is only a 4 minute car ride away, so we arrive fairly quickly. Sitting in our car in the parking lot I can see all of the other students walking inside, laughing and making jokes to each other. I already feel out of place. "See you after school son!" My dad peels his car out and down the street. I'm on my own now. I walk inside, and wind around a few hallways before I find my locker, 216. However someone else is standing in front of it. "Excuse me…" He looks up at me with a strange smile that made me feel guilty somehow. "Oh you must be Ryan! My name's Tyson. I was asked to show you to your classes today." "Oh… thanks I guess?" "No problem. So, did you change schools, or just move here , or…?" "No, I just moved here with my dad from Louisiana." "Oh. You'll get used to Texas, it's not so bad. Mr. Brian's class on the other hand..." "Mr. Brian?" "Yeah, he's your first period today. Right up there on the left." I walk into Mr. Brian's classroom which is a lot bigger than the classrooms in Louisiana. There's a desk for each student, a video projector at the front, a big whiteboard with a few algebraic equations written on it and a heavy smell of coconut. My eyes drift over to the clock hanging on the wall above the whiteboard. Oh shit, 5 minutes late. Mr. Brian and the entire classroom turn their heads as I stand there at the front. "Hello! You must be Ryan! You can have a seat there in the back." Mr. Brian is pointing towards the only open desk in the room. A desk right next to… the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. She had long brown hair, and hazel eyes that seemed to silence my footsteps as I walked across the room and took a seat. She looked over at me. "Hi, you must be the new kid. My name's Kylee, but everyone calls me K." "Oh. Uh, my name's Ryan. I just moved here from Louisiana." "Oh really? I used to live there when I was younger. What does your schedule look like?" I open up my sheet of paper and glance down a column of teachers and classes. "Uh, it looks like I have first period Algebra with Mr. Brian, then second period Chemistry with Mrs. Suzanne. Then lunch, and the last 2 classes are English with Mr. Albert, then History with Mr. John." "That's exactly the same as my schedule, except I have track instead of History." Mr. Brian paused his presentation and looks at K and I. "Perhaps you could work on your Chemistry in Mrs. Suzannes class, Ryan?" This prompted laughter from everybody, and people kept snickering at me for the rest of the period. After class I go to my locker to store my Algebra book in my backpack and to retrieve my Chemistry textbook. After shutting my locker I feel a large hand on my back. When I turn around there's a massive guy with a football jersey on smiling at me. I couldn't tell what hurt worse, his grip on my shoulder,  or having to stare at his terrible haircut.