AUGUST 31ST 2015

REEVES FAMILY RESIDENCE/JAMES MADISON HIGH SCHOOL

This whole train wreck all started the morning I walked downstairs and into the kitchen of our new home on the day I started the first day of my junior year of high school. It was the Tuesday before Labor Day and I was nervous as hell.

“Ma, I’m not too sure about all this,” I said while grabbing a banana off the fruit bowl and sitting next to my mother as she sipped her coffee. “I already feel more out of step than a school of tuna in a shark tank.”

My mother, ever the concerned and loving parent, only smiled and patted my head. “Xavier, I hear you and I know you miss Texas as much as your father and I do, but believe me when I say that you are going to have a great time here and make a lot of friends,” she said in her thick, French Creole drawl she grew up with being from Louisiana. “Besides, you want to go to UCLA to study art, right?”

I nodded. “But what if I don’t make any new friends, though?” I said. “Coretta made sure I didn’t have any back home thanks to her devious ways.”

“Don’t think about that sister of yours, son” Dad said as he came in dressed in his favorite navy suit. “Your sister’s is at UT where she belongs. It’s your time to shine. You got a blank slate here and the possibilities are endless. Trust us, Xavier. Trust yourself.”

I got up as I finished off the banana and grabbed my backpack. “All right, Dad,” I said. “I will trust in you guys. I better go because the bus should be here in a bit. Wish me luck.”

Heading out the door, I strolled down the walkway just in time to see the large butter-yellow bus roll down and slowed to a stop, its doors swinging open to see a gruff-looking, elderly Hispanic man stare at me. "Look alive, boy," he said. “You’re new?”

“Yes, sir. I’m from Texas,” I said.

“I had a feeling.” The driver smiled at me. “Welcome to Crystal Pointe, California. Get on board.”

I jostled up the steps and slowly walked down the aisles to find a seat.

“Taken,” a heavyset redheaded guy my age said rudely.

“Saved,” said a snooty-looking brunette junior.

“You can sit with me,” a faint voice similar to dinner bells said.

I looked to my right and saw a raven-haired girl my age with eyes the color of amethysts smiling as she made room for me to sit. “Thanks,” I said good-naturedly. “is everyone like this?”

She smiled back at me. “Only for a week or two. Name’s Jadalyn Hancock. You?”

I shook hands with her. “Xavier Reeves,” I said with a bit of pride. “I just moved from Texas this past June. Cedar Valley, to be exact.”

Jadalyn’s eyes were as wide as saucers. “No way! I just moved from DeSoto, Arkansas last year. It’s really great to see someone else from the Southeast. I still feel like the new girl in town even with my time on the gymnastics team.

That caught my attention. “What’s the atmosphere like?” I asked. “Open or cold as ice to newcomers?”

“Don’t worry, Xavier. You’ll fit right in. I can tell.”

And on our conversations went about each other until we arrived at the spacious campus of the massive and contemporary building of James Madison High School, home of the Lancers. And as soon as Jadalyn and I get off the bus and into the plaza, I’m immediately greeted by the JMHS Pep Committee. “I believe that you are Mr. Reeves from Texas, right?” a bubbly and statuesque blonde dressed in her blue and white cheerleading uniform said excitedly. “I’m Amber O’Brien. Welcome to James Madison High School.”

“Charmed, I’m sure,” I said, hiding the uneasiness I was feeling as I shook her hand. “I hope you’ll receive this small-town Southern boy with open arms.”

“You’re among friends, bro,” a beefy, athletic-looking brunette guy named Trent Rayborne said as he smiled at me. “You don’t really sound Southern, though.”

I rolled my eyes playfully. “My father’s originally from New York while my mother’s from Louisiana,” I explained. “They met each other back in college. I mainly sound and take after my father but I have my mother’s eyes.”

A slender, light skinned Black girl joined us, shooting Trent a glare. “Pay Trent no mind,” she said, smiling gently at me as she gave me a manila folder. “My name’s Carli Eubanks. I’ve got your class schedule and your locker assignments in there. There’s also a questionnaire involving extracurricular activities. Fill it out and we’ll discuss options for you. Like they say in Texas, we aim to please.”

“Thanks,” I said graciously as I hear the bell ring, signaling everyone to get to their homeroom classes. “I can’t wait to begin making my mark here.” With that, I followed the masses and headed inside. Let the adventure begin!

It doesn’t take long until I began noticing that while I was still the new kid on the block, I was well-liked by everyone. Before study hall at second period, I had gained a few friends from the cheerleading squad, an invite to the local pizzeria by a member of the school’s marching band, and an VIP invite to the football game next week followed by the after party via the running back named Rakeem Sadler, who happened to be Carli’s boyfriend. And now, here I was at third-period gym class, vainly attempting to score a point in the lethally brutal sport that is volleyball.

“Rotate, ROTATE!!!” Coach Ackerman, a powerful looking man in his early forties, boomed as I saw the ball fly towards me. I spiked the ball a little too hard and sent it soaring over the other team before it hits the head of another guy who was shooting hoops with his friends.

“Crap,” I exclaimed, racing over to the Asian kid. “I’m so sorry about that,” I said sheepishly, feeling stupid as hell. “Volleyball isn’t my type of sport to play.”

He only smiled. “That’s cool, man,” he said. Then he had a look of realization. “Hey, you’re that new kid Amber told me about. My name’s Brad Jiang. Nice to meet you. Xavier, right?”

“Yep,” I said, relieved that he’s not pissed off. “It’s nice to know that I’m now the talk of the school.”

Just then, a petite-looking redhead came towards us. “Did you see that spike Xavier made?” she asked excitedly. “We could use you if we had a guys’ volleyball team. Name’s Madison Hartley, by the way. And don’t worry, Xavier. Another new kid will come along and he or she will be the next hot topic, though it doesn’t happen much often.”

Brad and I laughed. “So until then, I’m the male version of Kim Kardashian?” I joked.

“No way! You’re more like Andy Cohen to me,” Brad said.

The three of us laughed before heading back to our corners. Like Dad predicted, I felt right at home.

By first lunch (I had it during my fourth period World History), I was already joshing around with the Pep Committee gang, Madison, Brad and one of Rakeem’s friends from the track team named Devon Luckinbill. And I gave the questionnaire I filled out in homeroom to Carli who promised to give the results by next week.

“Xavier, everyone’s been eyeing you like a shiny new toy,” Jadalyn said as she joined us for lunch. “How does it feel to be the hot topic?”

I finished a mini-photoshoot given by one of the school newspaper photographers before answering. “Tiring as hell,” I said, “but I think I can manage.” “Anything I should know about the social-“

I never finished my sentence because the lunchroom was silent as I saw the group that would be the catalyst to my whole life. They were all dressed in designer clothing and looked like they could give the Benetton Teens of the nineties a run for their money. “Who are they?” I said, noticing the looks of apprehension on everyone.

“Dude, they’re the main group everyone tries to avoid yet get caught up in sooner or later,” Rakeem whispered to me worriedly. “They’re from the Bellevue Estates subdivision and they are practically the gods and goddesses of this place.”

“One word of advice, stay away as much as possible,” Carli added. “Once they get their eyes on you, there’s no turning back.”

“Too late for that,” Jadalyn said flatly. “Look, their leader Alec has his eyes on Xavier already.”

Sure enough, I saw a platinum-blonde guy with deep blue eyes staring at me with a Mona Lisa smile on his face. He gave me a wink, which made the others smile before they retired to their table and eat.

I only sighed. “It’ll never last,” I said. “As far as they’re concerned, I’m just a fleeting interest to them.”

“How can you be so sure?” Madison asked.

“Trust me, I know. By next week, I’ll be forgotten about.”

If only I’d known how dead wrong I would be. I think it would have been a lot easier.