Toss: Chapter 1

Meet Alex and learn a little about him and his life

Chapter 1

 

The day started out the same as all other days have. I get up to the sound of a piercing alarm, and commenced my morning routine; force myself out of bed, brush my teeth, take a shower and get dressed. I sometimes imagine a worn path going from my room to the bathroom because of how much I do this same ritual every morning. My name is Alex by the way. I’m just you’re typical seventeen year old in high school. Well not so typical. Unlike the rest of the student body at my school, my social standing is limited. I maintain a small group of friends who satisfy my needs for social interaction. I guess it’s a consequence of being one of the top five students in the district. Yeah I know, I’m smart. It’s not something I really like to flaunt. The top three already do that enough, and the fourth just keeps to himself, more than I do actually. Anyway, the morning routine continues.

 Today I decided to switch it up a bit. I decided to eat breakfast. I know, what a dramatic change. It’s something so insignificant that most people don’t even think about it. Of course I have heard the age old saying Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, but I’ve never felt the need for it. It wasn’t anything special, just some toast with peanut butter. I will admit I did feel a slight change after breakfast, but nothing major. My mom claims my lack of breakfast consumption is why I’m not in the top three. I guess her constant badgering of my eating habits is her own unique way of showing love.

As usual the humdrum routine continues. I make my way to the bus stop and I’m grateful of the fact that the weather is so nice today. I love the sun. After three days of constant rain the sun was more than welcome. My bus stop is at the end of my street right at the corner of two developments. Standing there were the same people I have seen for the past two years. Andrew, who used to be my best friend growing up until he hit puberty and every girl started fawning over him, and Alexandra, my best friend. Yes we have the same name, well sort of. Unlike her I like to be called the abbreviation of my name, which is Alexander, but she on the other hand likes to be called by her full name. She thinks the name gives her a royal standing of some sorts. I think that idea is crazy, but I love her none the less.

We greeted each other the same as always, a big hug.

“What’s up penis?”, she said.

“Not much vagina”, I responded.

I think it’s easy to figure out where our nick names come from. Instead of calling each other by their name, we just resort to anatomy. Alexandra was a beautiful girl. She was the same height as me so people got the idea that we were twins. I guess name and height are the only qualifications for being related. It didn’t help that we sort of looked the same. We both had tan skin and dark hair along with brown eyes. The twin concept wasn’t hard to grasp.

Alexandra began to discuss with me the emotional turmoil she had been put through the night before. It’s nothing serious, just her insane obsession with Teen Wolf. She had forced me to watch a few episodes in the past, but I couldn’t really get into them. But once Alexandra starts talking about it, she never stops. The entire wait at the bus stop and the ride to school was a barrage of her emotional distress over the show.

“I was crying my eyes out from the first minute. My poor baby Stiles was stuck in a basement and all I wanted to do was go rescue him. And the ending, OH MY GOD, I was screaming”!

The bus pulling up to the school was a welcome sign of relief. Finally, an escape from the horror of a crazed fan obsessing over a TV show. We parted ways in the main entry way of the school. She had Geometry on the second floor of West Wing, and I had AP Biology on the third floor of East Wing. I liked the fact that I was friends with an average student. Not to seem pompous, but the smart kids of my school were a pain to be around. Alexandra was a breath of fresh air.

As I walked to AP Bio, I did what I normally do and observe the rest of the student body. Jocks throwing each other around the halls, girls with too much make-up and too little clothing, couples blatantly violating the PDA rules of the school, and the many other groups of students. High school is completely different from the way it is portrayed in movies. Movies show that cliques are formed and they don’t really mingle with each other. In real life, they all mingle and mesh together.

AP Bio was probably my least favorite class. It only makes sense that it was the first class of the day. Nothing like learning about the chemical compounds of the human body at 7:30 in the morning. My teacher, Mrs. Langston, was a bore. Her teaching method was to lecture the class and have us take notes. She told her students that she used this method because that is how college is. I think she forgets she works in a high school. My class is no better. Two of the Top Threes are in my class; Jessica Martin, number three, and Thomas Stanislowski, number one. The two of them sat in the front row, seeming to conform to the stereotype that the smart kids sit in the front. Lucky for me there is a spot at the window side of the room.

As I passed the two-thirds of the Top Three trio I was met with their disapproving gaze. I never really understood why the two of them hated me so much. I guess they couldn’t tolerate the fact that I was praised as much as they were for having good grades, or something else. I never really gave it much thought anyway. I sat in my seat and stared out the window until the class started. A minute before class starts Cassie Millons taps me on the shoulder.

“Hey do you have the homework from last night? I didn’t finish it”, she said with a rushed tone.

“Yeah sure” I said as I reached into my bag and got it out of my embarrassingly organized binder.

“Thanks, you’re awesome” she exclaimed with a smile and deep breath of relief.

Cassie Millons was the popular girl of our school. Her nickname was Cassie Melons. Obviously because she had big b***s. She was also very pretty. Blonder hair, blue eyes and a thin body. It was easy to see why she was so popular. Unlike most of the popular girls in our school, she was actually nice. Her and I would talk on occasion and she was always fun to work with in group projects. She was also pretty smart which wasn’t typical for a girl of her looks or social status. The last time I checked I think she was number 13 in our class of 1,119 students.

I watched her as she hurriedly copied my answers. She had mastered the skill of writing fast, but not making it look sloppy. I hadn’t noticed Mrs. Langston walking over until heard her sharp voice shout “Just what do you think you are doing Ms. Millons?!”

“I was just uh…um…”, Cassie could barely get a word out. Mrs. Langston had a no cheating policy and if she caught you, may the Lord have mercy on you.

“You were just cheating” Mrs. Langston said with a belittling look. “You know what happens to cheaters Ms. Millons, they get detention!”

Cassie sunk her head down low with a look of fear and sadness. I think it was the first time she had every gotten detention before. I thought she was going to cry at one point. Thankfully, for her sake, she didn’t.

“Oh, and let’s see who was foolish enough to let them cheat off you shall we?” She picked up my homework and said, “Well this is interesting. Alexander you will be keeping Ms. Millons company in detention.”

I thought I was going to puke. I had never gotten detention before. I must have gone pale because everyone had a look of worry on their face. Well except Ms. Three and Mr. One, they just smirked and laughed to themselves. Before I could say anything Mrs. Langston had begun her lesson and there was no choice but to go along with it. I was still feeling a little queasy and tried my best to calm myself down, but my hand kept shaking. I know it may seem weird to freak out over something as simple as detention, but I had never had one before and my mother was going to kill me. Cassie apologized to me at the end of class, but I told her it wasn’t her fault, I knew what I was getting myself into. She gave me a small apologetic smile and walked off like a runway model to her next class.

My next class was level 3 Mandarin. I figured that I was going to go into technology or engineering like the rest of the smart kids, so Mandarin seemed like the logical language to take. “The Chinese are taking over”, my dad would say. This class was nothing complicated; just memorization and what not. I was relieved when this class was over because it meant my favorite class of the day, Creative Writing.

Creative Writing is a nice change to my usual classes. The typical “smart kid” thing to do was fill your schedule up with as many AP classes as you could to increase your GPA. I chose to go against the flow. I know, I’m such a rebel. Creative Writing was just a normal level class so the bright side was that if I failed, which I didn’t plan on doing, it wouldn’t affect my GPA that much. The only downside was that it didn’t help my GPA either. Thankfully my other friend Dave was in this class.

As I walked in, Dave gave me this cynical smile and I looked at him as if to say “what the f**k are you looking at me for”. I sat down on front of him in the first row of the horseshoe aligned desks and he patted me I the shoulder.

“Why are you patting me like a dog”, I asked him in as nice a way possible.

“Because, Mr. Number Five, you got detention. How does it feel to be a delinquent like the rest of us?”

I couldn’t help but crack a smile. Dave was always good for a laugh, in his own twisted way. He told me he found out from one of his friends in my class, and he nearly pissed himself when he heard about the look on my face.

“Slummin’ it with the average kids now buddy” he said with one last pat on my shoulder. I gave him a slight smile and one of those laughs where you breath heavily out of your nose. Dave was an awesome friend. He planned to go to school for art which I admired him for. He said he wanted to be the next Salvador Dali. I give him credit for going into a field that doesn’t promise that great of success. God I’m an a*****e. But if it weren’t for him, I don’t think I would ever get out of my house. I do go to Alexandra’s house sometimes, but Dave usually drags me around to all of his favorite hang-outs. I’m happy I’m friends with Dave.

Apparently news of my detention spread like wildfire because all of my Creative Writing class could talk of nothing else. Strangely, I found it nice to be recognized for something else other than my grades. My teacher, Mrs. Rullo, even got a laugh in. Dave and the rest of the class’ jokes made the class go by pretty quickly which was unfortunate because I had detention right after. Mrs. Langston loves to torture her students by giving them Lunch Detention. She thinks a lack of food will teach her students to follow rules. I swear she is related to Hitler.

So on I walked to Lunch Detention. It’s not as serious as I make it seem. It’s held in the library where the detentionees have the choice to do their work or sit around for fifty minutes. Being the nerd I am, I chose to do my work. I heard that depending on who the teacher was, you could eat in Lunch Detention. I didn’t have one of those teachers. One my fellow inmates tried eating an Oreo and got three more detentions as punishment. Poor kid.

The bell rang signifying to the students that were still in the hall that they were late for class. I could see out the library windows that the bell had little influence over a few groups of people. Five minutes had passed and I was already done with my AP Bio homework. I looked over to see Cassie doing the same thing and when she looked up I pointed to my homework and gave her a joking look. Thankfully she smiled. My attempt at humor was a success.

I began working on my Mandarin project when the library door slammed open with a loud bang. Everyone looked up and in rushed a kid who I had never seen before. I’m good with names and faces and yes, I know all 3,342 faces in my school. He came over to the group of detentionees and Mr. Quink, our fat warden, halted the kid dead in his tracks.

“Just what do you think you’re doing young man”, Mr. Quink said with a tone of annoying superiority. He eyed the kid up and down before he gave his answer. I couldn’t help but do the same. He was very good-looking.

“I was told this was where Lunch Detention is. I’m new so I got kind of lost. I thought Lunch Detention was in the cafeteria for some reason.”

He said the last part with a small smile; an obvious attempt at humor to ease the tension. Mr. Quink was not having it today though. His face had gone red and I thought he was going to burst.

“Well young man…”.

“It’s Chris sir”, the kid said cutting Mr. Quink off.

“Excuse me WHAT?” Mr. Quink’s anger was visibly growing.

“My name is Chris, not young man.”

The detentionees all broke out laughing. I too cracked a smile. I didn’t know what was funnier, the kid named Chris toying with Mr. Quink, or Mr. Quink’s face almost becoming bright red with anger. The kid named Chris made a slight glance at me and made a half smile. I blushed and looked back at my homework.

Eventually Mr. Quink gained his composer and his face went back to its normal pale color. “Mr. Chris, I will let you attend this detention, but since you are late I am giving you another”. Even I thought this was unfair. The kid is brand new and he isn’t being shown any leniency. I was surprised to see that the kid shrugged it off so easily. Mr. Quink motioned for the kid to pick a seat and then sat back down behind his desk. I was taken by surprise when he sat down at the same table as me, right across from me.

I looked up at him and he was much better looking up close. He had light brown hair gelled to go up in the front, green eyes, nice cheek bones, a little bit of stubble on his chin and my God he was perfect. His clothes accentuated his good looks. A grey, metallic looking button down shirt, dark jeans and a pair of black and white Converse shoes. He was hot.

If you haven’t noticed by now, I’m gay.

 

Reviews

[james nuzzello]

This is actually pretty damn good. Every one in while, I catch a decent story writer. Your right up there with the talented ones. 'Be immune to rumor' jimmy Nuzz