I ignore my mother's calls. I go back to getting ready, and what I see looking back through the shiny, reflective mirror is pretty sad in my opinion. I see a latino highschooler with blue eyes, brown hair, and a yellow shirt. Oh god, I still look like a junior high student.
"Jacob! You're going to be late on your first day! And your breakfast is getting cold!"
I grumble. Maybe that's a good thing, I think to myself.
I groan again before yelling back at her.
"Be there in a moment!"
I look down at my drawings on the sink in front of me. I hate the way I draw. I guess I'll try to fix this tonight. Sighing, I put it inside my blue math folder beside it, before shoving it into my backpack that lies on the bathroom floor tiles. My old, grayish, faded backpack only had one working strap. Makes sense, though, because I've had it since 8th grade. Breaking myself from my thoughts, I sling it over my shoulder. Making a mental note to get a new bag, I step out of the bathroom, through the hallway, and down the white carpeted stairs.
My mom and I don't look alike. She's considered the "typical American" with her blonde hair and blue eyes. And she looks way younger than she is. The only thing we have in common is the eyes. I've heard that I look more like my father's side. I wouldn't know. he left when I was only three. All I remember was being confused. But it doesn't matter, I tell myself. Focus on the present.
"Hey, mom? I think I need a new bag" I hastily comment while shoving a pb&j sandwich into my bag. "The zippers hardly work anymore. Sometimes I can't even shut it!"
She looks up from her iPhone to survey my old, crusty backpack. "Maybe I can leave work a bit early and take you to the mall to get a nice, durable one."
"Really! Thanks, mom." Better late than never am I right or am I right?
"Well, I better leave now. School starts pretty soon and I don't want to be late. Mr. Hardgrenn is quite strict about tardiness. I love you!"
"Love you too! Have fun! Stay safe! And make friends!"
I look back at her promising blue eyes before turning walking out of the door. Make friends? Yeah right, I think bitterly as I walk out of the warmth of my house. Who would want to be friends with the weird kid?
I tremble at the cold breeze that comes my way. But when I set my hands in my pocket to keep warm, I hear a crinkling of paper. Surprised, I take out the "culprit" that made the noise. It was that fortune from the Chinese food my mother brought home last night.
It read, 'Tomorrow you will experience great happiness and find supportive friends' I wish. I truly wish.
I trudge up the steps of my school building, Oakdale High, looking up at the hundreds of people walking into the 3-story cedar-colored building. I wonder if-
Annnnd that's the first bell. I start walking a bit faster through the hallways so I can get to Mr. Hardgrenn's class without getting an after-school detention. Don't get me wrong, I'm a good kid. I have straight A's, and I listen-mostly-in class, but some of my teachers just don't really understand me. But whatever. As long as I get to class before the second bell, they won't bother me.
"Hey, watch where you're going, creep. I don't want to get weird germs on me." Hisses a familiar voice. I hear a couple of sniggers. I look up abruptly. My obstacle in the hallway just so happened to be this annoying kid named Bradley. He was, to be completely honest, a pig with a sandy colored wig inside a red shirt and faded jeans. His 2 cronies were pretty much alike. Big feet, umber-colored hair, and a sweatshirt. Looking at him from eye level, I try my best to sound confident speaking.
"Well, maybe try getting your fat a** out of the way before someone else runs into you and becomes late for class." Welp. My best wasn't very good.
He narrows his eyes maliciously. his stupid cronies behind him look irritated. "Talk to me like that again, you little cunt, and you'll really get it." Gulp.
"Now apologize," he snarls as he shoves me onto the lockers behind me. I mumble the words I'm sorry beneath my breath before sliding onto the floor beneath me.
"Well, because I'm feeling nice today, I think I deserve a little gift. Why not..." He gives a fake gasp. "Why not some of your money?" He outstretches his hand waiting for me to give him the money.
"No, Bradley," I say instantly regretting it. My entire body was about a third the size of him.
"What did you say?"
"I s-said no."
Oh great. What a wonderful day.
"Well guess what. I couldn't care less about what you think about me." He swings a punch at me. "HEY!" A voice yells out in my direction. Bradley stops mid-punch. We both look over to who yelled out, startled.