I was hoping for a peaceful fourth period in Algebra II. Apparently, event number four had other plans as soon as the intercom buzzed. “Mrs. Wyndham,” the PA intoned.

“Yes,” the matronly, fortyish, Black teacher said.

“Please send Xavier Reeves to the office. The principal wants to do an interview with him. He is excused for the rest of the period.”

“I will,” she said, giving me a smile. “Please do the chapter 2 homework assignment on binomials, Mr. Reeves. There will be a quiz tomorrow.”

I nodded as I gathered my things and made my way down the empty halls towards the principal’s office. On my way, I saw Amber leave the library. “Oh, hey Amber,” I said waving at her.

She smiled. “Let me guess, Principal Jackson and VP Hardict want to see you?”

I nodded. “Anything I need to be careful about?” I ask her.

“They’re the mentors of the Bellevue group, yet they’re real cool people,” she said. “There’s probably a few more teachers there too, so you’ll have to do a Q&A.”

“Got it. See you.”

“See ya!”

Principal Jackson was a firm yet easygoing man with a nice tan and kind, green eyes that complemented his impeccably tailored black suit and a green shirt while Vice-Principal Hardict was an African queen reincarnated in a contemporary version, dressed in a charcoal and white pantsuit and her long hair in a French bun. “So how are things holding up for you at this school, Mr. Reeves?” the former asked me jovially as I took a seat.

“It’s been great so far,” I said. “I made friends with the Pep Committee and went to last week’s scrimmage game with Jadalyn and to the after-party hosted by Rakeem.”

Hardict’s eyebrows arched in surprise. “With you involved in the arts, I never took you for a football kind of guy,” she said.

“I want to branch out,” I said.

One of the male teachers, a muscular fellow who taught freshman Biology, grinned. “I think that Mr. Reeves should veer away from the gridiron sidelines and keep going into the art studio,” he said. “From what I heard, he could draw really well.”

“Agreed, Mr. Samuels,” cooed the red-headed French teacher Ms. Cartier, who looked like someone’s hip grandma. “I see a lot of hidden potential, but he must remain focused and be with the right kind of people.”

Everyone grinned at me. What the frackle-spackle is this, I thought in disbelief. I slowly counted to ten and began what felt like the longest Q&A session in my life, even showing the principal my sketches.

Finally with only a couple of minutes left until fifth period was over, I was finished. “Enjoy yourself, Mr. Reeves, but don’t be surprised if I want to talk to you some more,” he said as we shook hands. “I want to get the full story on you.”

Oh, no you don’t, I told myself in my head. “I’d like that,” I said instead.

But no sooner than I leave the principal’s office, I am greeted by Ms. Shelley the guidance counselor as event number six went into full effect. As we walk towards my next class, we talked about my future plans after high school and some SAT/ACT workshops that were coming up and that I would definitely be interested in. I thought I was safe until she brought up the Bellevue kids. “I think that you’d do very well if spent some time with those kids,” she intoned, brushing back her short sable brown bob in place.

Crow feathers, can I get a break, I thought sourly. “How so?” I only replied.

“You definitely have the potential. I saw that in you when you did the Q&A flawlessly. And with the right kind of people, your true destiny can be revealed. You want a full scholarship to UCLA, right?”

I nodded.

“Then let those kids work with you. The Pep Committee and Rakeem and Trent are all right, but they don’t really see what the rest of us does.” The bell rings and students began heading towards sixth period. “Enjoy yourself, but keep your eyes on the prize. Eyes on the prize.”

“I will,” I said, feeling frustrated at all of the advice and the strangeness I was feeling. I darted off to Ms. Ortiz’s Spanish II class and threw myself into conjugating verbs flawlessly.

Seventh period spent in Mr. Billingsley’s Chem I class goes off without a hitch or delay as sure enough I was waiting in front of the school’s entrance with the other car riders as my mom was coming by to pick me up for some shopping.

I didn’t expect for what would happen next.

Not the wave of dizziness I was feeling from not eating anything, or being pushed down by some jerks from the basketball team (“Get some friends, loser” they jeered before facing the wrath of their coach), or the screams I heard from the cheerleaders as I heard a car come dangerously close towards me…

It was one gigantic blur.

“What the hell?” I heard a furious JR scream as I opened my eyes to see Alex in front of Carli’s SUV, shielding me from being road kill. His glare softened as he knelt down in front of me. “Are you okay?” he asked me.

All I could do was nod.

I saw the frightened faces of Carli and Rakeem as they got out of the car. They looked like they were smoking pot, the former on the verge of tears as her boyfriend was apologizing like a madman. Principal Jackson was looking quite furious as he and VP Hardict was coming over and I heard the screams from my mom as she pulled her car over to the curb.

It would be the last thing I heard before the darkness surrounded me entirely.

And in case you lost count, this is event number seven. Yep, my life is officially off the rails.