CHAPTER 1

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I don't think I've had any regrets in the last 17 years of living. Probably except for listening to my friend rant about weird things like werewolves and the supernatural.

I don't hate it, but it does keep me interested and helps me continue the conversation, but I feel like I don't have much of a personality. I'm also not much of a talker— I don't like talking. Especially to the next-door blonde neighbor, Alesa.

She's not a bad person, don't get me wrong, but I always wake up thinking about whatever new topic she wanted to ramble on whenever I strolled to school under the pouring weather. The problem is my awkwardness. I anticipate that, just as I grab my umbrella and windbreaker off the coat hanger near the door.

"Jason. Don't forget your jacket, babes." A booming voice from the kitchen. That was Mary. Or, well, my mom.

"Yeah, mom. Thanks for reminding me." I half-yelled back, affirming to her.

The best thing about her was that if she heard you once, she wouldn't repeat things like a broken battery-charged toy from Walmart.

With a bit of a hopeful attitude, and slipping on my wired earphones, I can distract myself from anyone and anything on the way to school. As I expected, it was pouring like crazy on the streets, along with dark smoggy clouds that floated through the sky.

I struggled to open my seven-year-old umbrella, then I held its red handle at the length of my face. The rest of it unfolded above me, shielding me from the wet droplets above. I can vaguely see my reflection on the asphalt, whilst the musky smell of rain hits the nerves in my nose. Breathing a sigh, I continue my daily life, moving my legs across the sidewalk while I make my way to school. Luckily, Alesa didn't come out as early as I did today. No awkward conversations. School's just five minutes away from my house. I was lucky for that, at least.

As I trudge through the rain-soaked road, I finally reach the school gates. I close my umbrella, hoping to salvage some dryness. But of course, fate has a twisted sense of humor. I start unzipping my backpack, only to find that half of its contents have succumbed to the relentless downpour. Great, just what I needed. Another reason to despise mornings.

I should have listened to my friend when he told me to buy a bigger umbrella. It was sort of my fault anyways. The umbrella holder was two meters away from me, so I took a step and threw the old ragged thing like a javelin. It landed in there perfectly, leaning against one corner of the square shaped box, its droplets falling to the bottom of the container.

First block was socials. I didn't exactly fancy that subject. Or any subject. Probably except for English. The topics there, such as Shakespeare, kept me interested for a while, at least. I'm glad that my friend and I shared the same socials course, though. I navigate the wet, bustling hallway, dodging students and their umbrellas as I make my way to my first class.

I plopped my bag beside the leg of my desk, unfolding my chair and taking a seat. Looking over my shoulder, was my friend, Ven. The one who liked the strange things. Or, in other words, my only friend. He relaxed in his seat, pushing back his drenched black hair. His sweater matched his hair — black.

"What's up?" He crossed his arms over his desk, looking back at me.

"Hey." I said. My voice almost cracked. That's how awkward I was with people.

We didn't really talk for the rest of the class. I knew Ven liked talking during lunch. That'd be a better time to have conversations. I had waited bitterly for class to end. It was like torture. I didn't care about things like The French Revolution, or Christopher Columbus. It seemed redundant and stupid, in all honesty.

Ven and I were practically running to the cafeteria once we were dismissed, totally fed up with the subject in total. It was easy to secure a spot to sit at. I usually sat with Ven and Alesa— and their other eccentric and interesting friends. Like a sore thumb, I always sat there.

I was like Wednesday Addams compared to their colorful faces and popular conversations. I felt boring. I looked boring. I was boring. But that's how it always was. They didn't even seem to mind, but I was over-conscious about it either way.

Today, they served up some mid-tier macaroni salad, along with apple slices and chocolate milk. It wasn't a very good combination of food, but the milk made up for the bland macaroni, at least.

Ven and Alesa quieted down. The entire group did. There were a few stares here and there, but nothing seemed incredibly odd to me. Well, I was sort of wrong. As soon as I turned my head in Ven's direction, I understood what made him look like a flabbergasted balloon.

Five. There were five of them, sitting at a table. You'd think nothing of it at first if you never lived here, but these people weren't from here at all. They looked foreign. Everyone born here knew each other, and they all went to school together. Exchange students were rare here. I found it odd how all five of them looked beautiful. Unrealistically beautiful. My interest immediately faded away, though.

I didn't think it was much to scream over anyways. Ven and Alesa stared for a while longer. They've definitely never seen these folks. It was reasonable why they'd want to stare, though. I'm just not into all that social stuff. The small talk, the forced interactions. Don't even get me started on exchange students. It's like having a temporary, foreign version of a classmate.

Call me negative or mean, but that's how I think. Instead of joining in the staring festival, I find solace in the gentle pattering of rain on the few glass windows on the roof of our cafeteria. It's like I'm in my own world.

In fact, I'm so good at being quiet that Ven and Alesa didn't even notice me slipping away early to my next class.

Before I did, I looked back at the exchange students again. I don't know why I did. Maybe I was a little curious, after all.

I spotted a tall, slightly curvaceous woman sitting with the exchange students at a cafeteria table. Her bright auburn hair cascaded down her shoulders, and her lips were painted a striking shade of red.

She was pretty.

Before I turned my head, she looked in my direction for a brief moment, before turning back and talking to the others at her table. I'm not sure if she really looked at me. I mean, I don't really think that I'm conventionally attractive to be looked at anyway. I was out of her league anyway. It's whatever.

Shaking my head, I head away from the cafeteria. I decided to spend the rest of my lunch sitting alone at a bench, reading a few books. The teacher had recently given us a novel to study.

I chose "To Kill a Mockingbird" by Harper Lee. Some people say that this book is banned in a few places. I didn't care. I just wanted to cut time.

So, I did.

(END OF CHAPTER 1)

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