Weeds

Weeds - Chapter One

"Where you in any teams at your old school?" 

"No." 

"Clubs?" 

"No." 

"Do you play any instrument?" 

"No." 

Did he know any other word? 

"Are you into sports?" 

"Sorta." 

So talkative. 

"So Elliott is it true you took all AP classes at your old school?" My mom said with fake enthusiasm. 

He shrugged. 

"Are you looking forward to attending Stinson? It's one of the best and well known schools on the Pacific coast. " 

He shrugged again. 

I rolled my eyes stabbing my fork into my potato. 

  

*   *  * 

"Ahh school, the smell of a flawed education systems and high stress levels,"  

"You can say that again ." Breathed out a sleep deprived looking Elliott. 

I looked at him, and rolled my eyes. I had woken up at three in the morning as I usually did and at this time Elliott had been on the couch watching T.V. 

After a whole summer of not coming within a three mile radius of this place , it was easy to say I was gagging at the sight. Mom had just dropped  us off and I tried to avoid the stares. I mean it's not every day you see the upper-class men queen bee,the queen bees little sister,  the awkward lower school kid , the nobody and the mysterious new guy all step out of the same vehicle. 

It literally happened once a year, minus the mysterious new guy part, he was the new addition. Ever since I could remember every first day of school mom insisted on driving us all. I never use to mind until we started the death trap known as high school. 

Bridget strolled up beside us  pausing for a quick second, she placed her hand on her hip and did her signature pouty smirk. Her heels gave her a good six inches making her tower over me. Her blonde hair spilling down. She continued walking over to her group of friends consisting of Bailey and Kelsey Watts, Lena Merriment, Colleen Dyson and a few others. 

I started towards my locker and entered the code , wiggling the lock open. Revealing the same locker I've had for over three years, it was gross and had a molding substance in the bottom left corner. It was there before I even got this locker. 

First and second period dragged on without end. I had no one  interesting in any of my classes since my best friend Danielle wasn't in them.  

"What kind of teacher gives homework on the first day back? We're juniors now, we should be allowed the right of being lazy." Danielle groaned this as we made our way to the cafeteria. Although we never bought cafeteria food, all students were required to go there during lunch. Freshman year Danielle and I had claimed the back left table ours, no one ever ate there besides us. 

"At least you're getting a good education." 

"Stinson sucks though, it's like Gossip Girl 2.0" 

"First, Gossip Girl is a show not a school. Second we don't have someone writing about our lives." 

"Exactly, Gossip Girl is stupid and so is Stinson." 

I was going to rebut against her rude remark on Gossip Girl, I for one loved the show and was a proud hard core Chuck Bass enthusiast. I even bought his scarf. I hate scarves, who wants a sweater for their neck? 

I set my bag on the bench sliding to the middle, Danielle followed. This was our routine, we came in, no one noticed us, we ate, we talked , we left. I liked it that way, I liked having a routine. No surprises that way. 

We were discussing our new latest obsessions when the cafeteria fell silent. In a plain white shirt , fitted jeans and black converse Elliott Preston walked into the cafeteria. I'm not sure if everyone fell silent because they finally decided they had annoying voices or if it was because they couldn't handle Elliott's presence, I wouldn't blame them if it was the later he had grown into someone intimidating. He radiated hatred, confidence, arrogance and a don't-mess-with-me attitude.   

His eyes scanned around the cafeteria, he deciphered and rejected every group. He started with the jocks and the cheerleaders, Bridget's group. Bridget smiled at him giving him a flirtatious smile to which he diverted his attention from quickly. Everyone stared at him in awe, no one rejected Bridget like that. 

He then proceeded to do this to everyone else, the nerds, the gamers, the preps, the metal heads, the stoners, the indie hipsters, the Goths, the band kids , and the plastics. Every social group in our wing had been rejected. He turned on his left foot and walked out of the cafeteria. 

I wondered where he went.