My skull rattles as it's smacked against the cool metal locker in the crowded hallway. You'd think by now this wouldn't hurt so much...but it still does, believe me. It seems to be pretty much a daily routine like....brushing my teeth. But brushing my teeth has never sent me to the doctor 3 times with minor concussions.
"Next time stay out of my way, you tool," booms some big senior's voice as he laughs and bumps fists with his equally huge friends.
Ah, your typical high school bully. Massive, of course, with a posse of about 6 guys who make you want to pee your pants when you take a two second glance at them.
You might be wondering at this point, who's brain you've been lucky enough to see inside. Mason Bryers is my name, and as you may have guessed, I'm not exactly the "hottie" of the grade. My physique? Tall and lanky. Skin? Acne prone. Mmm, the ladies love that. Not.
Speaking of "ladies", I'll have you know I'm terrified of them. They don't seem to enjoy my presence, not that I blame them. I tend to stutter like a broken record and sweat like a pig when they ask me something as minor as, "What page are the homework questions on?" I'm the definition of awkward.
I shake my head, my ears still ringing from the vibration of the banging locker, and head to last period. Home Ec....oh so manly.
- - - - -
"Mason, you're honestly going to have to get a tutor, or you're going to be crying in summer school and there's nothing I can do about it," my teacher says, slapping our latest test face down on my desk. I flip it over uneasily. A big red "F" is scratched in the top right hand corner. Fantastic.
"Oh yeah, Mrs. P. I'll um...get right on that," I lie. Yeah right I'm getting a tutor. Everyone knows that all home ec tutors are girls and as previously mentioned...I can't do that. You might have thought, "Hey, since he obviously isn't a "cool kid", he must be a nerd." Nope, definitely not even good enough to cheat off of on your math exam. I'm kind of just....there.
The bell indicating the day is done chimes and I quickly race out of the door.
- - - - -
I finally pull up on my bike to the huge iron gates of my house and punch the 5 digit pass code in. The gates slowly creak open as I hum along to the songs from the High School Musical soundtrack blasting from my iPod into the ears of my headphones. Don't judge me.
I walk down the long driveway and get to my front door. As I pull it open, I hear my parents' voices echoing through the house. They're home? Weird.
You see, my parents are kind of a big deal. My mom is runway model, Sacha Delrose from France. She modeled for Chanel and Burberry and is nearly six feet tall, clearly one of the main origins of my height. My dad is, yes, THE Tyler Bryers. You know, famous director? Why two beautiful people ended up with a kid that looks like me, no one seems to understand. Might be the reason I'm an only child, my parents saw me and realized one embarrassment to the family was enough. They're barely ever home with all the work they do, so I'm usually left with cooks and nannies and butlers. That might explain to you the enormous house that we live in...we're pretty well off.
"Mason, ve are in zee kitchen! Ve need to talk to you!" my mom calls in her thick French accent. After living in America for over 15 years, she still sounds like a complete foreigner.
I pad in sock-feet to the kitchen and see my parents sitting at the table. My dad is clicking away on his Blackberry and my mom is examining her fingernails. Such divas.
"Why are you home so early?" I question, grabbing a cookie out of the jar on the counter.
"Ve have big news!" My mom says excitedly, clapping her tanned hands together.
I roll my eyes. I bet they've bought a new yacht or are going on a trip somewhere...boring.
"Quit rolling your eyes, son," my dad scolds. "Our big news is....we're moving to Los Angeles and you're attending the National Art School of California!"
Did I ever mention I can't public speak? Or draw or paint? Art school!? This is going to be a hell...
This is my first story I've ever written, so I'm not sure how it is! Any feedback would be fantastic, and let me know whether you want me to continue or not!
YOU ARE READING
New KidTeen Fiction
Mason Bryers is not cool. He's not on the football team, not in the glee club - hell, he's not even smart enough to be considered a nerd! But when Mason's famous parents decide to move to L.A. and enroll him in the National Art School of California...