Chapter 5

My alarm blaresthrough the air for the third time this morning, insisting that I get up and ready for the first day of school. I swat blindly at it, stopping the noise and leaving my arm stretched onto the bedside table for a moment while I slowly exhale. On the other side of my bedroom door, something bumps against the bathroom wall. Beth probably, getting ready for Casey to pick her up early so they can get to the elementary school and do their traditional first day greeting.

It’s sweet, honestly. The squad will get all suited up and split, some of them going to the elementary school while some go to the middle school, to line the path to the school entrance. They’ll shout and smile and wave their foil pom poms, putting the kids in a good mood as they head into the end of their summer vacation. Casey loves doing it, and this will be Beth’s first year joining her.

My jaw tugs towards the bed as I yawn, arching my back then finally sitting up and rolling my shoulders. I throw my legs over the side of the bed and press my feet firmly onto the floor before I finally accept that the day has to begin. I reach for my basketball shorts, but wince as I picture mom’s face if she sees that that’s what I wore for the first day of school.

‘First impressions are important!’ I can practically hear her say. ‘Is this really the tone you want to set for your junior year?’

I can’t bring myself to dress quite to her standards for the day, but I do put in a little more effort than usual. Tugging on my nicest tapered black sweatpants, I flip through the closet until I find a mostly white graphic tee. I tug on a gray button up and push the sleeves to my elbows, then look in the mirror to assess the look and nod.

This is as good as it’s gonna get.

The bathroom lights are blinding, and I blink away spots as I get my morning routine taken care of. Teeth brushed, hair combed, and deodorant applied, I jog down the stairs and pack a lunch as I wait for Cam to come pick me up. When my phone lights up and the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band starts singing about counting the stars, I throw the bag over my shoulder with a grin and head out to the waiting truck without even answering.

I greet Cam with a whoop, clap my hands together, then point dual finger guns through the front windshield.

“Let’s go get some donuts!”

“You are such a loser,” he groans as he pulls away from the curb. “I’m gonna have to drop you at the corner before we get to school, no one can see you arrive with me.”

“Too late,” I crow, twisting the dial on the radio. “I’m already a part of your brand. The time to have better taste in best friends was middle school, darling.”

“There’s still time,” he mutters through a smile, turning the wheel to steer Glory towards our favorite donut shop for our first day of school breakfast.

When we’ve fully stocked the cab of the truck with fried rings of dough and sausages stuffed into yeast cocoons, I twist the yellow cap on the bottle of a watery chocolate drink and take a swig. By all rights it should be disgusting, but there’s just something about it that tastes just right on a summer morning. I take a huge bite of cinnamon cake donut and sigh happily.

“What has you in such a good mood this morning?” Cam asks before shoving an entire pig in his mouth.

“This is gonna be our year,” I say through a mouthful of crumbs, covering with one hand to keep it contained. Cam shoots me a dark look of warning, sweeping his eyes around to check for fallen crumbs in his precious truck, and I swallow before continuing. “I can feel it. We’re playing football together for the first time since 8th grade, Casey and Beth are cheering, we’re all at the same school this year. Junior year is going to be awesome, I can feel good things coming.”

“Yeah,” he smiles out the window. “I guess you’re right.”

There’s little chatter as we finish our drive to school, mostly focused on finishing our breakfast without getting food all over our clothes. When we get to school, the parking lot is the most packed it will be all year, and I grin at the signs of life all around us. We don’t have practice on Thursdays, and the first day is no exception, so Cam actually parks in his assigned spot at the front of the school today. Casey’s Jeep is parked in her spot near ours, so she and Beth must have caught a ride with someone else to the elementary school this morning.

We tuck all of the trash into one bag, sling our backpacks over our shoulders, and make our way into the school. The entryway is crowded, with students being funneled through to check in and receive their paper schedules and take an ID photo for the badges we’ll be handed next week. Cam and I both step into the same line for names starting with ‘A-M’ and wait patiently for the registrar to find our printed schedules in the bucket in front of her. There’s eight blocks of classes on each paper: Mondays we’ll have each class in order and the others are split between Tuesday/Thursday and Wednesday/Friday. The only classes we have every day are our first and our last, so those are the two I’m most anxious to check.

This first short week we have every class both days, to get ourselves oriented. I scan the sheet of paper in my hands, seeing where I’m going first: science. Cool, that works for me. I glance over Cam’s shoulder to scan his schedule, and grin when I see his first block is identical to mine.

“Look at that, stalker,” I tease. “You’re stuck with me every day.”

“Ugh,” he pulled his lip down in mock horror. “You go ahead, I need to see a counselor about this…”

“Oh, whatever,” I laugh as I hook his arm in mine and start tugging him away from the tables towards the crowded hallway. “Come on, Holt. Accept your destiny.”

Camden shakes his head but follows me without resistance. As we enter the crowded main hallway we drop arms for our own safety in the crushed throng. His extra few inches help him easily keep me in his sights and I can feel him behind me as I navigate the small clumps of people stopped to catch up after a long summer break on my way to the science wing. Along the way I smile and nod at a few people who I haven’t seen since May, but outside of Casey most of my friends are from the football team so I’ve kind of caught up with everyone already.

When we finally make our way to C Hall, the last branch off the main hallways, we turn to the left and count the plastic signs over blue metal doorways until we reach our assigned classroom. A teacher I’ve never seen before is standing in front of the whiteboard, “Mr. Galway” written in large script. He’s tall and slim, with serious eyes and black wire frame glasses perched on a slightly upturned nose. His hair is dark and plastered flat across his head in a neatly combed style that dares a single hair to even try and fall out of place.

Mr. Galway simply nods in greeting to each student as we pass through the door, unsmiling. He doesn’t seem mean per se, but maybe a little awkward, or rather serious, as we slide through the neatly arranged rows of desks to find two seats next to each other in the back corner. Camden makes fun of me, calls me a plant because I’m always drawn to the seat closest to a window. It’s not like I can’t function without one, but the sterile fluorescent lights are so harsh in these rooms that I just feel better if I can soak up a little natural light every once in a while.

While we wait for class to begin we lean across the aisle between us, comparing our schedules. It looks like we actually have a lot in common this year. We have the same History and English teachers, though we aren’t in the same class. That will make studying easier, since we should have the same homework. Besides physics and football, we’re also in the same Spanish class fourth period. Our hands slap together in celebration when we see this, since it means we’re guaranteed to have lunch together at least three days a week. We won’t know about our Wednesday/Friday lunches until next week, but if this morning is any indication of how junior year is going to go, I’m for it. It’s off to a great start.

By the time physics starts we see that Chris Jenson is in class with us, along with a couple of guys I played with last year on JV. Second period isn’t as exciting for me. Some of Beth and Casey’s friends from the squad have History with me, but none of my close friends are in that class. But that shifts considerably when I walk into my third period English class and see Casey sitting at a desk in the center row.

Casey’s face brightens and she waves eagerly, and I feel a grin spread across my face as I stride through the room to take the seat behind her in front of the window. I brush my hand across her shoulder as I pass, then let my bag slip to the ground under the desk as I take a seat. She turns in her seat to face me.

“Hey you,” I rest my elbow on the table and prop my hand on my palm. “Did y’all have fun this morning?”

“Oh yeah!” Casey pulls up photos on her phone to show me as she speaks. “It was a blast. I love seeing how excited the kids get! Beth had fun, too. How’s your schedule this year?”

“It seems okay so far,” I open and close my hand towards her until she fishes her list from her binder, comparing it to mine. “Hm, this is our only one together.”

“But we’ll have lunch together, at least on Wednesday and Friday!” she says brightly.

“That’s true!” I hand the paper back. “And I have lunch with Cam every other day, so I’ll be all set.”

“Great,” she laughs. “Just leave me in the dust, why don’t you?”

“Come on, Case,” I smile. “You know that isn’t true.”

“Well, anyway,” she smiles, though it seems maybe slightly strained at the corners. “Since you’ll see him every day at lunch, maybe he can do without you after school? And we could spend some more alone time together?”

“Oh, well, I mean I still have football. And studying, you know, Cam lives close so we study together a lot.”

“Well yeah, but sometimes I think you’d rather be with Camden than with your girlfriend.” The teasing light has all but left her eyes, and there’s an edge of hurt to her tone.

“Case,” I start, but I’m interrupted.

There’s a squeal from the front and Casey turns to see her friend Pepper Briggs running towards her, blonde ponytail bobbing. She’s lost to me until the end of the period, when I give her a tight but quick side hug and escort her to the end of the hallway before I duck through the crowd and hurry to the cafeteria. I’m the first one there from our group of friends, and take my place at our usual table from last year near one of the columns in the center.

Before long I’m joined by Chris and Mike Samson along with some of their friends from the team. Cam and one of the seniors I recognize as a linebacker exchange some kind of complicated handshake before he sits with us, popping open a bag of chips and spinning an orange electrolyte drink in place before diving in. We all eat and visit, whine about teachers who gave out reading with their syllabus and joking about the new teachers that are way more perky and cheerful than they will be in three weeks.

The rest of the day passes like this, popping into each room eager to see which friends I’ll get to spend class with the rest of the year. Coach Baxter works us hard the first half of our athletics period and then has us working on skills and strategies the second half, and most of my teachers take it easy on us this first day. Camden and I sit together again in Spanish, doing our best to get paired as language partners for classwork despite the doe eyes pointed Cam’s way from half the girls in class. I make it to the end of the day, but I don’t like the look in Ms. Kopek’s eye as I leave 8th period Algebra, like she’s evaluating me right to the depths of my soul and seeing that I’m one of those kids who forgets to do my at-home problems.

Just like every year, Mom and Dad come to pick us up from the school in the work truck. Beth and I pile into the backseat to go for our traditional first day of school ice cream. The tile floor is echoing taps of the tiny shoes of elementary kids, their sleepy eyes lighting up as they contemplate the flavors in the case. Parents trail them with phones raised, ready to capture a photo of them with the sweet treat in their hands and their best clothes with ponytails that were probably neat and orderly this morning. There’s a voice in the back of my head that questions if I’m getting too old for this particular tradition, until I see Beth’s focused gaze on the blue bubblegum flavor and a grin spreads across my face.

Some things we’ll never be too old for.

We each get a scoop on a cone and the four of us find a bench outside, licking the sides to catch runaway streaks of ice cream before the heat can melt them onto our hands. After we’re all finished and have talked about how our first days went, we load back into Dad’s white pickup and bounce along to pick up a pizza on our way home.

I stumble upstairs to the bathroom to brush my teeth and get ready for bed, full of ice cream and pizza and tired from a long day. It’s a different kind of tired from that first football practice, but my brain feels exhausted. I guess not picking up a book all summer really did make an impact. I’ve barely tugged on my favorite Spiderman pajama pants and face planted onto the bed before I’m drifting off to sleep, thinking about the game tomorrow, too tired to be nervous.