Average Joe (2018)

4

April 9th

At one time or another, we've all had it - new kid syndrome. Maybe you're the new kid at your school, your job, or your... mommy and me class, I have no idea what your life is like. The point is, this was the third school I'd been to in three years.

I stood there, a little bit nervous, as kids flowed freely through the open exits, which had 'Hillcrest High School' spelled out in concrete letters above them.

I stared at the sign a moment more. Sighing, I pulled my hood up around my head.

Trying not to look suspicious, I wandered down the lobby and approached the secretary, who looked about my mother's age with one of those eyeglasses with a chain so they wouldn't fall off.

"Excuse me?" She looked up at me. I handed her my forms. "I'm Norman Knight. I'm transferring here from Forest Hills High School."

The secretary looked at my forms, then looked at her computer. She then handed me some papers all packed into a blue folder.

"That has your locker number, your list of classes, where to go for them, a map of the school, and all of your syllabuses," she spoke to me in a scratchy, but well-mannered voice.

I nodded and walked into the hall.

I thought going to the same school as Tori and Darwin would give me more time to hang with them, but I guess not. The school was so much bigger than my last one, and the map that the secretary gave me was not at all helpful. I might as well have been reading it upside down, underwater, with my eyes closed.

The students were less than helpful. Joy radiated through me when I finally found my first class. Algebra II was at the back of the first floor, and I just about died when I saw it. As I walked towards the room, my shoe caught on something big. Before I could process anything, my forehead slapped the tiled floor, knocking the air out of me, and causing my skull to explode in agony. I growled in pain as I peeled my forehead from the cold and filthy tiles. Through the ringing of my eardrums, I could hear and practically feel snickers and mocking laughs.

Anger, pain, and adrenaline burned through my warm blood.

My head stung and felt as if I had a concussion. I lifted myself to my knees, then stood, looking at the six-foot-tall muscular dude in the gray and violet school varsity jacket. The guy looked about my age, only much bigger and stronger. His face was bent in a sadistic smirk, as he walked away.

"Don't mind Phil," said a smooth voice to my left.

I whirled to my left to see yet another muscular dude in simple camo and a red shirt. He walked forward and bent down, picking up the things I dropped.

"His parents went through a nasty divorce over the winter," he continued.

"I'll take your word on that," I mumbled, taking my fallen stuff from the dude's arms.

"He was always awful though. Even before the divorce."

"My parents aren't together, it doesn't make me a douche." The dude laughed.

"Yeah, he's pretty... intense. Stay close to principal Morrison and he'll keep his distance."

"Principal or school bully? Fantastic choice." The guy laughed again. I stepped back a little, wanting the conversation to be over.

"Well, I'll see you around."

"You too."

I spun on the heel of my sneaker, happy to leave when my forehead made contact with something hard. I stumbled back a little and saw I almost walked through Tori.

"Tori! Hey, I'm so sorry." Her long hair fell around her beautiful and startled face. She smiled.

"It's cool. Just remember, I can't phase through solid objects." I chuckled. "Hey!" Tori said, looking past me.

I turned and saw that the orange-haired dude was still there. Tori walked past me and the ginger wrapped his arms around her. Tori planted a kiss on his lips.

"Oh," I said dully. "This must be..."

"Bryan," Tori finished with a smile. Bryan looked like a good-looking guy when I met him, but now that I knew he was Tori's Canadian boyfriend, every single grace was amplified to me.

Large muscles, hickory eyes, tan skin, fire-colored hair, six feet tall. I swear, even his eyelids had a six-pack. While I was standing there, short and wiry thin. A second ago he was an okay guy, now he's Satan's butler. I hate him.

"Hey," Bryan said, smiling a little. "This isn't the little dude you were talking about was it?"

Little dude?

"Yeah," Tori replied. "He's my best friend."

Ouch.

"You must be Norman," Bryan smiled, reaching out his hand.

I grinned like an idiot and gripped his hand with the strongest fist I could make. Then I gave... the look. You know the look. The look you give when you meet someone who says they knew you as a child, but you don't know who the hell they are. The look you give your teacher when they talk about something you don't understand. The look you give your friend when they ask if you can stay the night, but you don't want to. The look. Fake smile, check. Dead eyes, check.

"Yeah, it's nice to meet you."

"Like your Nirvana shirt. It looks good on you."

Ugh. What a tool.

"Thanks, I like your shirt too," I replied.

It wasn't until then I looked at his shirt. It was red and had a description of what Maspeth high school could do to itself.

"Thanks, little dude. Tori and I are going to this party at Kimberly Anderson's house this Friday night. You and that other guy should come."

I'm guessing he meant Darwin.

"That sounds like a good idea," said Tori, looking at me.

I didn't want to go.

"I'd love to go!" I said.

What?

"That's great," Bryan replied. "Tori can give me your address and I'll pick you and Darwin up."

That's a horrible idea.

"That's a fantastic idea. I'll tell Darwin!"

"Okay," Bryan smiled. "We'll see you Friday." He squeezed Tori's hand. "Let's go, babe."

Once I could no longer see them, I banged my head against my locker, hoping the brisk pain would push out my misery.