There are three different types of students in a classroom. The front rows. Those who sit at the very front of the room who have their hand raised when ever a question is asked. Normally cover the first two maybe three rows. The middle rows. Those who will only answer a question when they know that they are one hundred percent correct, possibly half asleep, and who may attend class hungover. The back rows. The social rejects. Those of us who are either: really smart and don't show it, drunk all of the time, asleep, or don't care if they are failing the class. If you are like me, who doesn't talk, you would be put with back rows.
No matter what class I am in, I will always sit in the very back row in the farthest seat from the teacher. I am not one big for talking and I have zero friends. I moved to this small town in Colorado with my father after my parents got a divorce. My mother still lives in England with her new husband and soon to be twin boys. I get weekly emails about her life, while she tries to stay in mine. Personally I couldn't careless about her life because the first time she cheated on my father, I stopped talking to her. This was over two years ago.
Now I hardly talk to anyone. Teachers know that I really don't talk and always make sure subs know it too. I don't skip class too often, but when ever I do, it is news for the entire school to hear. I don't understand the point to this, as I am not going to share the fact that I drove around town for an hour or two avoiding school. At least until I found Luke's Diner. My life somehow has a spotlight but the stage around me already has too many lights. Only when I do something do all the other lights dim.
To me biology is the easiest class to pass. To get a passing grade, you make sure your lab project doesn't blow up in your face and burns down the school. Now it may sound easy but trust me when I say it isn't always. Just last week two people blew up their project and the were front row people. They messed it up so bad that the fire department was called, and now there are burn marks on the ceiling.
Mr. Novak stands up from his swivel chair and does attendance. I turn the music on my phone up, because I know that Mr. Novak will stop at the person before me to see if I am at my desk. He is the only teacher who does this for me everyone else makes me raise my hand. He also happens to be the only teacher who class I am not failing. Since everyone else care if I am participating in group projects or activities.
When I first came to Northdale, everyone wanted the new, "good-looking," British guy to sit at their lunch table. I had declined every single offer of friendship to sit in my car and blast the music as I drove around until next period stated. I never had many friends back in England, but my father said I would have loads of friends. He was wrong.
When I am not in class I drive around, until a few weeks ago when I found this old diner on the edge of town. Luke's Diner. The owner is friends with my father so he knows I am a brick wall when it comes to conversations. Our town is small but for the two years that I have lived here, I've had no knowledge on this diner. Now I have been spending all of my time there. They have the best pie I've ever tasted in my life. For my short life of seventeen years, I've tasted a lot of pie and know that this is by far the best pie ever.
