Smashing Into You •• BWWM

2. Unofficial Welcome Committee

Ch. 2. Unofficial Welcome Committee: (Last Dinosaur *FLCL OST 3* by The Pillows)

Cy
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"Well, if it isn't Tweedle Dee & Tweedle Dum." Principal Yardley sighed, stopping in the middle of his speech as he turned to look at the two students that staggered into the conference room late: Yang and I.

Let's be direct here, was it right for him to call us that?

No one objected.

Our Principal is a lanky man with short gray-brown hair. He had this habit of wearing his pants a little too high and tying his necktie a little too tight—to the point where you could see each vein pop on the left side of his neck. Sometimes during the day, he would re-adjust it only to tighten it back to the same length.

Honestly, no one knew what planet he was from. Made me wonder if there was a damn woman in his life...

"Hey, Yardie!" Yang chirped as he pulled out a seat behind Carmella, who was too furiously writing something to acknowledge our presence.

"It's 'Yardley', Principal Yardley, for the billionth time, Mr. Yang." his index and thumb finger rubbed warily at his eyelids.

"Yep, that's what I said," Yang dropped his backpack to the floor, rolled up his sleeve, and smiled innocently at the fifty-something-year-old man. It was a love-hate relationship. Well, mostly hate stemming from both parties.

If I got started with the history of these two... I'd be here all day.

Yardley waved him off, not wanting to spoil his morning, and continued announcing his plans for the fall and spring semesters.

Six round tables lined the back of the white-walled conference room. Four of them for the five assigned students from each grade. (They created an extra sophomore group for freshman that had graduated or were transferring from out of the district.) The other remaining tables seated the appointed faculty-duo that supervised.

I stirred in my chair, already freaking restless, as I took in the bodies on our "team" this year. Relatively, members were unchanged apart from the majority of the sophomores. They seemed to drop like flies each time.

Yardley's voice droned on... it'd been, what, eight minutes? The other teachers looked weary, clinging to their cups, and exchanging looks across their table.

It was the same got-damn speech listing similar things to do with the new transfers, like the ones prior. We were only going to babysit for a full week but he was acting like this was some fucking life-changing therapy session.

"What was that, Mr. Johnson?"

Fifty pairs of eyes swallowed me whole, including our stern Principal. Yang's hand hid his smile—obviously, he heard me.

My throat cleared, "Nothing, Sir."

"Are you sure about that?" His stubby fingers pulled at his already tight neck-tie, "Or is this a 'therapy session' for you?" There were some low chuckles.

I sighed, "All I'm saying is, we do this every year."

"Well, it was your idea—" he stepped around the podium. His white socks a clear sign that his pant legs were too high.

"No, nope. It was a joke between friends," I deadpanned.

"He's right, Yardie." my right-hand man agreed while he played with the ends of Sal's curly black hair, ignoring the fine frown he received for mispronouncing a certain person's name, again.