“Keanu! Sakura! Kommt! Frühstück!” I drag myself out of bed on Monday morning, pat Sakura on the head and call down to Dad that I’m taking a quick shower. I dry off quickly, throw on some clothes, brush my teeth and haphazardly run a brush through my hair.

I grab my school backpack, and my second bag with my baseball glove and cleats. I set them down by the kitchen table, and Dad slides over a plate with two sunny side up eggs, some bacon and toast.

“Oh wow, thanks Dad.”

“No problem. I’ve got to run to work now, though. Have a great day, and best of luck at tryouts.” He smiles, and kisses my forehead before he’s hurrying out the door. I finish eating, clean up and gulp down my glass of orange juice. I wipe my mouth and wash my hands, grabbing my bags just as there’s a knock on my door.

I get Sakura to stay, telling her to be good, before I slip out the front door with my shoes on, snagging my extra key. Wren’s standing there, thumbs hooked beneath the straps of her backpack. She’s wearing shorts, and a short sleeved Metallica band t-shirt. Wren grins, the Pokemon charms on her wrist chiming.

“Ready for the first day of hell?” I ask dramatically. Wren snorts and rolls her eyes. She offers me an earbud, and we both listen to some good old Three Days Grace as we walk to the school.

Wren had showed me around the campus during the summer, and that's where we both practiced our football and baseball. I knew from what Wren told me, was that at school, she was a lot quieter, and reserved. I felt both embarrassed and honored when Wren told me that she would try to be just like the Wren I’d gotten to know over the summer, since I gave her courage to just be herself.

“You know how there’s typically cliques in schools?” Wren asks as we headed down the sidewalk.

“Yeah. How bad are they here?” I shove my hands in the pockets of my shorts.

“Not bad, persay. But, there is a certain student whom everyone is basically obsessed with.” Wren says. “His name is Flynn Graysen, and he’s basically the most popular and wealthy kid the school has ever seen. Teachers love him because he’s super smart, and always top of the class, and girls are always all over him because he’s attractive. I’m sure there are some guys questioning their sexuality too.” She nudges me playfully, and I blush.

I’m pretty sure that I’m into guys, so bisexual at least. It had slipped out one day when Wren and I were watching ATLA, and Wren was gushing about how Zuko was her anime crush. She’d said something along the lines of, “isn’t he just super hot and attractive?” and my brain hadn’t been connected to my mouth, and I’d responded with “he sure is.”

Wren had been a little surprised, but she wasn’t disgusted or showed any negative emotion towards me when I admitted that I was likely bisexual, given the stupid amount of stupid crushes I’d had over stupid male anime characters. Then there was that time Wren had caught me a couple times staring at (shirtless) Shawn Mendes’ Instagram profile on her phone.

Anyways.

“I’m sure he’s not going to take notice of someone like me.” I snort. “I’m awful at social interactions. I’m socially inept. You are an exception.” Wren placed a hand on her heart.

“Awe, that’s so sweet of you.” I swat at her high ponytail, and she yelps, ducking away. “That took me ten minutes to get perfect, leave it alone!” I snort, and bat at it again, and Wren jabs her fingers in my side. I yelp and jerk away, and Wren glares at me when her earbud gets jerked out. I stick my tongue out. She flips me off.

When we get to the school campus, there’s already a bunch of students milling about, like vultures to carrion. My anxiety of being in a crowded area with a bunch of different people heightens, and Wren squeezes my upper arm comfortingly, before leading me inside. Strangely, Wren explains that the lockers are basically free-for-all, unless they have a lock on it, meaning that it’s been claimed.

Wren and I went out during summer to get new school supplies, and I got a lock. We choose lockers next to each other, near the music classrooms. They’re still in the main hall, but not mainstream so there’s plenty of empty ones. I dump my sports stuff in there, and close my locker, sliding my lock onto it.

“Verdammt noch mal. Here they come.” Wren mumbles, and I follow her green gaze to a group of four boys and three girls making their way down towards us. They probably came in through the side door, and they brush past, not even acknowledging us. When they’re far enough away, I look at Wren curiously. “Those were Flynn’s friends. They’re all good looking, but most of them are jerks.”

“But he wasn’t with his friends?” I ask, confused. Wren nods.

“Flynn gets dropped off by his older brother. It’s a daily occurrence, and everyone is hung up over the idea that Flynn’s brother is part of the mafia, even though his father’s the CEO of one of the biggest companies in the area.” Wren rolls her eyes, and I snort. “People, amirite?” Wren grins. I return her eye roll, and the two of us head to the main office, where I’m supposedly getting a school-assigned laptop.

The seniors are the only ones who get that privilege, given their workload and well, their “senior privilege”. Wren says it’s because the school doesn’t have enough funding to provide laptops for all the high school students, so they only allow the seniors to have one. I don’t mind. I’ve never had my own laptop before, and I will treat it like I treat Sakura and Bobsaur.

After Wren and I have slid our assigned laptops into our bags for safekeeping, we get our schedules, and I’m relieved to see that we have almost the exact same schedule. The only difference is that our lunch time and study period are in the alternating hours, but it doesn’t really matter. We each have that two hour block at the same time.

We’re heading to our first class when there's a group of murmuring girls by the entrance. A few seconds later, they're squealing, high-pitched voices greeting and “welcoming back” Flynn Graysen from the summer. Wren wrinkles her nose in disgust, and I bite back a laugh.

“Come on, let’s go.” Wren grumbles, and I quickly follow. Our first class is English, and we take the table at the back. Most of the students are milling about, talking to each other and others are staring down at their phones. Wren takes her phone out again, and offers me an earbud, before she opens up her Pokemon Go app.

As someone who never played Pokemon games on consoles other than the Wii or Nintendo, I didn’t know what to make of it. It seemed interesting though, to catch all the Pokemon as you walked around.

It sucked that you couldn’t actually fight any wild Pokemon, and the battles just required tapping at the screen. Wren’s Skitty just fled when there was a sudden hush in the room as someone walked in. Then, seconds later:

“Flynn, are you coming to Angie’s party tonight?”

“It’s a ‘last first day’ party! You know, since we’re seniors?” I cringe, and fight the urge to just land facedown on my desk at the irritating laugh the girl lets out next.

“It’ll be soo much more fun if you’re there!”

“Please?”

“Thanks, but no thanks.” I glance up as I hear a male voice speak. So this is Flynn. Wren was right. He’s pretty easy on the eyes, and I can see why so many people are obsessed and infatuated with him. Flynn’s tall, with a lithe form. His dark brown hair is swept to the side in a messy part, somehow careless and attractive at the same time, and his eyes are a bright cerulean blue.

Flynn and his friends move past the gaggle of girls, and make their way to the back. I look back down to Wren’s phone, where she’s grumbling and cursing at a new Skitty escaping once again. I miss the curious glance that Flynn shoots my way, but I certainly don’t miss the way that a shadow falls over our table a few minutes later. We both look up, and immediately shrink back when we realize it’s the teacher. He doesn’t look very pleased.

“Mr. Harrison, hey.” Wren grins, dragging out the last vowels and shoving her phone into her bag. He surprises the both of us when he leans back with a smile.

“Nice to know you haven’t lost touch with your younger side.” Mr. Harrison simply says, before heading to the front of the class. The other students thankfully don’t stare at us for too long, and return their attention to the front of the classroom. The class is pretty low-key. We’re starting out the year reading The Crucible, and Mr. Harrison told us to end the class by reading through the first five pages.

However, as we all leave the class to go to our next one, Mr. Harrison pops his head out of the door and says, “Wren!” Both Wren and I turn, simultaneously responding and Mr. Harrison blinks at the both of us.

“Oh, sorry. His last name’s Wren.” Wren points her thumb to me, and I sheepishly rub the back of my neck.

“Apologies. I’m used to being called by my last name. It’s how my teammates and I communicated on the field.” Mr. Harrison seems to light up at that.

“What sport?” Wren heaves a sigh. “Hush, Wren. I’ll tell your parents you’re being rude.”

“That’s not fair, using your own high school friendship with my dad against me.” Wren grumbles.

“Baseball.” I decide to humor Mr. Harrison, and his grin grows wider.

“I hope to see you after school then, lad. I’m the baseball coach at Glendale.” I feel my eyes widen, and I sputter for a response.

“I- n-nice to meet you, s-sir.” Wren thwacks me on the back, and I hiss, shooting her a wide-eyed stare.

“Don’t give me that kicked puppy look, Keanu. You know it makes me feel bad and I hate it that you do it without realizing it.” Wren grumbles. “He’s an idiot, a socially awkward idiot, so don’t mind him.” Wren adds, bumping my hip with hers. I flush, and Wren laughs.

“Oh Wren, leave the poor lad alone. Keanu, you said?” I nod. “Well, I’m excited to see what you’ve got to offer to the team. I’ll be seeing you both around.”

“Wait!” Wren called. “You called me for something. What was it?” Mr. Harrison blinks at her.

“I don’t remember.” Wren heaves another sigh. “Oh! Right, tell your father I’m swinging by tomorrow to drop off that lawn mower he let me borrow.”

“Sure thing.” Wren shoots him a thumbs up, before grabbing my wrist and dragging me down the hall. “Pick up your feet, Keanu! We’re going to be late!”

“We’re already late.”

“Hence the pick up your feet part!”

“But why bother when we’re already la-”

“Move, Keanu or else I’m dragging you the rest of the way.”