Chapter 2

“Stupid assembly, who needs it, it’s a total waste of time.” he muttered to himself.

Every day a student got chosen to read a verse out of the Bible in front of the whole school. Jackson generally sneaked in ten minutes late and sat down in the last row. Teachers took a headcount, but this took a while as there were over 400 students at Whistler High.

He finished his cereal, put on his headphones and grabbed his BMX. He cycled to school every day, it cleared his mind. He saw the school bus pass, and saw some kids mouthing insults at him, most likely trying to impress the girls that they were surrounded by. Jackson sang along to the songs that blasted out of his headphones at a volume that would deafen most people. As Unholy Confessions started playing he arrived at school, it was deserted outside.

“Everyone must already be at assembly.” Jackson thought to himself.

He walked inside, dumped his bag in his locker and made his way to the assembly hall. The reading had already started, and he slipped in as quietly as possible. He sat down next to some kid he didn’t know. Either the kid was new or Jackson must have never noticed him. Not that he cared, he only had half a year left in this dump and then he could move to New York to go to the College of Performing Arts. He had gotten word last week that he received a full scholarship. He had applied without his mom knowing about it. He was still thinking about how to break the news to his mom, as he wasn’t sure what she’d think of it. For Jackson all that mattered was that he would get to play bass, write music and end up with a degree. Where he would work didn’t actually matter to him.

“We’ll see that when we get there,” was one of Jacksons most used sentences, and most people hated it.

The kid that was reading from the Bible was stammering and sweating. Jackson was glad enough that he wasn’t up there and browsed to the next song in his playlist. He put his headphones on again and dozed off. Ten minutes later, Zach, Jackson’s best friend, woke him up.

“Jack, we’re in trouble. Principal wants to see us in her office.”

“What the hell did we do now?” Jackson muttered, and he couldn’t think of any reason why he was supposed to go to the principal.

“Probably the same old story about our schoolwork.”

Jackson and Zach walked through the hallways with their bags. A couple of guys walked into Zach, knocking him over. They quickly walked on, laughing about what they had just done.

“A******s,” mumbled Zach.

Jackson helped his friend up and they hurried off to the principal. She wasn’t the one to tolerate lateness, and they really didn’t need more trouble with her. They rushed up the stairs and into the principal’s office.

“Good morning, Mrs. Dawson,” they both said in unison as they sat down.

“Good morning, Mr. Ames, Mr. Oakley. Do you know why you’re here?”

“Is this about our schoolwork again? Because if it is, I’ve heard all of it before.” Jackson had been called into the principal’s office more times than he could remember, and every time it was about the same thing. It was always about how he was so smart, and that his grades or schoolwork didn’t reflect this. Frankly, Jackson didn’t care. He didn’t need maths or history to work in a recording studio or tour the world. It’s not like he’ll be explaining algebra or the Cuban Missile crisis to Jeremy Davis or Mike Shinoda anyway.

Zach was in here for the same reason. These guys spent most of their time in and out of school together, so it couldn’t have been anything else.

Zach moved here from California four years ago, when he was thirteen. His parents were divorced as well, but he moved here with his mom, his stepdad and stepbrother, Michael. He didn’t like his stepdad, he was way too controlling, and Michael was an overachiever. He was the type of student that would argue with a teacher over an A-. Michael was also the star attacker of the school lacrosse team, something Zach had tried in his first year but ended up with a broken wrist. If you would put Zach and Jackson next to each other, the only way you could tell them apart was their hairstyle. Zach had mid-long black hat hair, as his Hurley cap would never leave his side. Jackson had long, messy, dirty-blond hair that always looked as if he had just gotten out of bed. They dressed the same, always wearing low-top All Stars or DVS shoes, baggy shorts or jeans and hoodies.

“Mr. Ames, I have had to call your mother about your school results. If you continue like this, you’ll never get into university. Your current grades will get you into a community college, but that’s about it. We had such high hopes for you.”

Jackson could feel frustration growing inside him. As the principal walked to a filing cabinet to get some papers, Jackson turned to Zach and whispered “Did you hear that, she called my mom, goddamnit. I really can’t use that right now.” Zach seemed to shrug it off as he saw his name on the file that the principal was holding.