Hello! I'm Xallaren. I'm fourteen, and this is my first day of 11th grade. When I was younger, I skipped a bunch of grades. I kind of hated my classmates, so I got out of their. I still get pushed around, but I have a lot of friends. My main one is Demitree. He is 16, and we've known each other for 12 years. Anyway, today is a really big day, because I am going to make new friends! I can't wait to see Demi again, and as I eat breakfast, I feel my anticipation build. I grow anxious, as the clock grows faster, and I'm still not dressed. I quickly finish up  my cereal, and run up the stairs, tripping twice. 

"Shut up, will you?" I accidentally slam my door open, and I know I'll pay for that later, but I am a man on a mission right now! I can't be late, not today. I open my closet door, carefully, and feast my eyes on all of the choices. I'm not sure whether to go with black, or pastels, so I do a mixture, with a black t-shirt, a pastel blue letterman jacket with white sleeves, and white shorts. I got some black combat boots, just to match the shirt. I look in the mirror, and like usual, my hair is a mess. I decide not to worry, and grab my glasses off a shelf. I don't get dressed with my glasses, because I don't want to see how ugly I actually look. 

I rush to grab my bag, and stuff my lunch in there. I was snacking on a strawberry, because I was already hungry again. I throw my backpack on, and rush to the side of their house. I spot my red bike among the overgrown bushes, and struggle to pull it out. I finally get my poor bike free, and guide it to the sidewalk. I start, and immediately, the wind whips through my hair, cooling me off. The familiar burn returns to my legs as I push myself harder, yearning for more. This is what I love. I enjoy the ride, letting all of my stress and anxiety blow away with the wind. I smile, seeing the school just down the street. I speed up, not knowing if I'm late or not. I quickly lock up my bike on the rack, and jog into school. Like we talked about, Demi was waiting by the front desk, my schedule in hand. I grinned, planning on surprising him. He was looking at his phone, probably worrying about time. I giggle a little, tip toeing behind him.

I am right behind him, and he's grumbling about how bad I am with time. I smile, and shove him slightly, letting a shout escape my throat. He jumped, dropping my phone. I giggle again, smiling at his fury. He starts lecturing me about punctuality, but as usual, I just ignore him. He picks up his phone, still lecturing me, waving around my schedule. I snatch the paper from him, looking at my classes, and locker number. My locker is, sadly, upstairs, but I guess that's okay, because my first class is up there too. 

"We don't have first together, but second is P.E.," he was looking over my shoulder, peeking at my schedule. My mind can't help but stress over P.E., but I quickly think about first period. It's debate, and my teacher was Mrs. Workman. She was a sweet little lady, and she has been teaching debate since forever. She's one of my favorite teachers, and gives the best assignments. I only have English tomorrow, and Math today. I smiled. So far, school is starting off great.