Vincent burst out the door, hopped down the steps, and moved steadily down the sidewalk toward the bus stop.

“Werewolf,” he said with another shake of his head and a chuckle. “Well at least I get a good laugh for the start of the day.” And it was going to be a good day, he promised himself.

As he made his approach to the spot where the bus would pick him up, he had this sudden urge to run all the way to school, so he tightened his backpack straps, put his head down, and ran.

Pumping his legs, heart racing, he felt the invigoration of high spirits move through him. He covered five miles in about 20 minutes, which was astonishing, because he recalled the record for running a mile was around five minutes or something. Perhaps he’d consider joining the track team with this speed of his.

When he arrived at the school’s entrance, he wiped his sweaty brow clear, feeling a bit odd as he wasn’t super tired after such a long run. It made him think about moments in the past. Weird moments. Like when he ran around the entire school during elementary at recess, not caring that the other kids were giving him looks and pointing at his erratic behavior. He just remembered feeling the urge to run, and not stop, so he ran. There was also the breaking of that kid’s jaw that got him expelled, and… the destruction of many alarm clocks over the years. He had also broken dishes, drawers, and other random happenings that his parents just played off that he began to think of.

Little bursts of energy, of anger and rage, that just willed him to… unleash, and so he gave into that instinct like he had today, without really questioning it, because it felt right. It felt natural, even if it pegged him as weirdo to other kids. Perhaps he’d have to push those urges away if he really wanted to make friends this year. He’d think about it and decide later, though.

The school was a beige and red brick building that was four stories high, with lots of windows and classrooms and entryways. And a lot of areas to park, drive up, as well as lots of grass, not to mention some large fields in the back. Not far from where he stood was a large, rectangular extension that was shorter than the rest of the building. It had huge windows and looked like it was the main entrance, as next to it were large silver letters that displayed “Crescent Academy” against the red brick.

“Okay, first things first,” Vincen said, pulling out his phone, trying his best not to feel overwhelmed by the size of the building and all the activity going on around him.

High school was different than elementary in that he had language, history, math, science, etc. in the morning. Following lunch, around 1pm in the afternoon, were classes titled “Supernatural & Special Tactics” in room 412 for two periods on Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Friday. There was only one on Wednesday. What was up with that title? He didn’t know, so it made him a bit nervous as perhaps there had been some sort of mistake. Either way, he’d figure it out at that time. He gulped, thinking about it.

Students milled about, getting out of cars and busses as they pulled up, walking by him, and moving through the entrance doors. He felt his nerves tense, which is why he anxiously pulled his phone out and began tapping away on the Crescent Academy app to check where his class was.  

“Today’s going to be a good day, remember?” He reminded himself as he pulled up the directions to his first classroom on the first floor in room 105. A math class. He hated math, which increased his nerves. How hard would it be, he wondered? For some reason, he scrolled and clicked through the map, locating classroom 412, wondering what the heck Supernatural & Special Tactics was. Maybe he should find a teacher or staff member and ask?

He shrugged it off and tapped the screen to reveal a map that showed directions to classroom 105, and made his way forward. Engrossed in the map and not watching where he was going, he ran into someone.

“Watch where you’re going, chump,” the person said, giving Vincent a hard shove which knocked him to the ground.

Grunting from the fall, Vincent rubbed the side of his leg as he looked up at the rude culprit. “What’d do that for?” He asked.

“Cause you were in my way,” A kid with messy gray hair said as he glared down at Vincent with judgmental yellow eyes. Vincent wasn’t sure where it was coming from, but the kid’s eyes felt familiar somehow.

Vincent thought it best to be polite, even if this kid was kinda a punk, so he gave a cordial smile and apologized. “Sorry about that.” Chuckling and rubbing the back of his head, Vincent stood.

The kid frowned. “Yeah, you should be sorry.” Then, he gave a wide smile and punched a fist into his open palm. “Next time, I won’t be so nice.”

The kid’s jacket was a bit wrinkly, and his red dress shirt unbuttoned at the top with no tie, which made Vincent wonder if he was breaking dress code as his mother had told him that having a tie tied properly was part of decorum, which he assumed meant something dealing with following dress code.

“You know,” Vincent said, still maintaining a friendly air but trying to assert himself. “You didn’t have to shove me like that.”

“Oh, I kinda did,” the kid said, his smirk twitching with a mild delight.

Vincent suddenly patted his pockets as if he was looking for his phones, then his eyes went wide as saw the sad sight of his phone on the ground, and it’s cracked screen. “Ah man, it’s all busted up,” he said, picking it up. The screen had two cracks across the front, with several scratches on the back. He knew he should have gotten a case for it.

The kid snickered and shook his head. “Serves you right for not looking where you were going, chump.”

Vincent suddenly found himself not liking this kid, his tone, nor the way he said chump.

Before Vincent could say anything, the kid shouldered past him and sauntered away with a little wave. “See you around, loser.”

Vincent felt a sudden urge to want to stomp after the kid, grab him by the shoulder, spin him around, and punch him in the chin, but stopped himself and stepped backward as a stench filled his nose. The stench of unwashed, wet dog. It invaded his nostrils like an uninvited intruder in the night.

“Ugh, that’s nasty” he said, lifting a finger to his nose in a vain attempt to lessen the lingering smell. He scrunched his face up. “Yuck.” While the smell was unpleasant it wasn’t anything he was not used to as he had experienced little bouts of intense aromas, like the one he had suddenly taken an unwanted whiff of.  

He finished brushing himself off and watched the kid disappearing into the school, scrunching his nose up at the fading smell. “What a punk.”

He looked down at his phone, tapping a finger against it with a frown. Relief came over him as the screen came to life. “At least it still works.” He let out a reassuring sigh and made his way into the school, hoping that he would not run into that kid again, but knowing that luck was not usually on his side in that regard.

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