I went home with pit stains, ugly wrinkly fingers, and an aching wrist. This was supposed to be the first day of school, but I looked like I was on my last day. And the reason behind all this was thanks to the stupid club I decided to join for three reasons:

(1.) Wendy practically dragged me into it. Bless her pure heart.

(2.) I didn’t care what club I went to.

(3.) Sam.

The club was a mess—literally and figuratively. I know I said I didn’t care which club I’d join, but now I’m starting to think I do. The only reason I said that was because I wanted to be invisible. To make people not see the sixteen-year-old freshman who got into an accident because of a stupid cat. But that seemed impossible now, because apparently, the club is everyone’s favorite thing to watch.

“I’m home!” I shouted, kicking the front door shut behind me.

Elizabeth ran past me, her face caked in makeup, cheerleading uniform glittering under the hallway light. “Watch it, loser!” she snapped, shoving me aside.

Mind you, this girl is only a year younger than me, but she acts like she’s older just because she’s a sophomore. Luckily, she goes to a different school. If she ever found out what club I’m in, I’d never hear the end of it.

“Where the hell are you going?” I asked, switching into my house slippers.

“Practice,” she said, grabbing her bag off the rack.

“In full makeup?”

“None of your business, dickward.” She slammed the door shut behind her.

I sighed and trudged into the kitchen, where Dad was making dinner like always. And before you get sexist about it, Mom isn’t sick or negligent. She’s a nurse who often works late shifts. Dad’s a househusband, but not entirely jobless. He works in the afternoons doing… actually, now that I’m saying it out loud, I don’t really know what he does. I just hear him having meetings on his laptop sometimes.

“Dad, what do you even do for a living?” I asked, dropping my bag onto the counter.

“Good afternoon to you, too, Elijah,” Dad said with a smile, chopping carrots in his fruit-print apron. I used to tease him about it, but he wears them so often that it stopped being funny.

“Dad, I’m serious.”

He set the knife down, raised an eyebrow, and replied, perfectly straight-faced: “I’m the Regional Operations and Workflow Optimization Coordinator for Cross-Platform Data Solutions.”

I blinked. “…So, you do… what, exactly?”

“Exactly that.” He went back to chopping carrots.

Okay, maybe he had told me that before, and I just forgot, probably because what the hell did that even mean?

“So, how’s school?” he asked as I grabbed an apple and took a huge bite, juice dribbling down my chin.

“Fine, I guess.”

“Fine? You’re eating that apple like you haven’t eaten all day.”

“We cleaned up this…” I swallowed hard and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “Storage room. The whole afternoon. So yeah, I’m starving.”

“I have so many questions, but we’ll talk about that later. Dinner’s in two hours. Your sister said she’ll be back by then.”

I tossed the apple core into the trash. “Did you see the makeup she was wearing? The girl’s fifteen, for crying out loud.”

“Let her explore her femininity,” Dad said, pointing the knife at me.

“I’d let her explore if she was any good at it. She looked like a clown.”

Dad’s lips twitched like he was holding back a laugh, but he turned away before it escaped. “Go get ready before dinner.”

I headed upstairs.

My bedroom was plain. Back in middle school, I had posters and figurines from my favorite show, but I’d outgrown them. I planned to redecorate, but then… well, the accident, which I should probably stop mentioning, since this is the fifth chapter and I still haven’t shut up about it.

I changed into casual clothes. While pulling on my shorts, a sharp pain shot through my wrist, making me drop them and clutch my hand.

“Who the hell told you to join a cleaning club?” I scolded myself. Half-dressed, I went to my desk and pulled out the painkillers from the drawer. I swallowed one dry, the pill sticking in my throat before eventually sliding down.

I was about to close the drawer when I noticed something inside.

My guitar pick.

I froze, staring at it. My hand hovered, ready to pick it up. But at the last second, I slammed the drawer shut. Heat bubbled in my chest with anger, disappointment, maybe both. Seeing it made me feel like a failure. But that's what high school does to you. It makes you feel like a failure.

I flopped onto my bed and stared at the ceiling, contemplating.

I mean, what kind of idiot joins a cleaning club? Oh right. Me. The idiot who thought a fake club would somehow get him closer to Samuel, the drummer of the band I've dreamt of joining. The same Samuel who probably doesn’t even remember I exist, even though we thre w trash together.

But lying there, clutching my wrist like an old man with arthritis, I realized something...I hadn’t thought about playing guitar in weeks. Not really. And maybe that was the scariest part.

So yeah. First day of high school: pit stains, a clown-sister, and one very questionable life choice. And I already knew tomorrow was going to be worse.

“Hey, Ugly! Dinner’s ready!”

I ran downstairs. Eliza was already at the table, glued to her phone. She didn’t even look up when I sat across from her, so I kicked her leg under the table.

She shot me a glare, but before she could say anything, Dad came in with stir-fried veggies, grilled chicken, and rice because apparently we’re a balanced family.

Halfway through dinner, the doorbell rang. Mom wasn’t home yet, so Dad wiped his hands on his apron and went to answer it. A moment later, his voice drifted back. “Elijah, someone’s here for you.”

"Me?" I exchanged a look with Eliza, but she was still texting, so I dragged myself to the door.

I didn't know who to expect, but I should have prepared myself because standing there, holding a half-eaten bag of chips and grinning like he’d won the lottery, was Renzo.

“Yo, neighbor!” he said, like this was totally normal. “Guess who just moved in next door?”

I shut the door in his face.

“Who was it?” Eliza called.

“No one,” I muttered, sinking back into my chair.

This is great. Just what I needed.

Chaos delivered straight to my front door.