Alterity

Chapter Two

The Ducharme School is freaking huge—you'd think it was a boarding school or something. As I've been stuck in assessments the first day and a half of my being here, this is my first time even going to home room so I have literally no idea where it is. And what did they give me to help me out? A map. Terrific. Not like my brain can process practically any of that information or anything. I understand it enough to know that I need to be on the second floor but have no idea where the stairs even are.

            After wandering around aimlessly for a bit, I stumble across the elevator which is marked with a sign stating that it's use is for staff and handicapped students only. I look around to be sure no one is watching and press the button, taking the elevator up to the second floor. When the doors open, I'm greeted with a library surrounded by a set of three hallways.

            I'm preparing to make a guess as to which hallway to venture down first when a staff member exits the library and notices me.

            "Hey." She says. "You're really not supposed to be using the elevator, you know. Where are you headed?"

            "I'm uh—I'm trying to find," I glance at my schedule, "Mr. Biggs' room."

            "Oh!" She says, smiling. "I can help! Are you new?" 

            I nod. "Yeah, I'm a freshman—I've been testing with Mrs. Sig."

            "Ohh! Ok sweetie, that's no problem! I'm Miss. Gonzalez—I'm one of the librarians. Come with me, I'll walk you there."

            "Thanks." I say, and follow behind her.

            One of the most annoying things about being in a program like this is being talked down to. I've heard it a million times in a million different ways in a million different special ed departments at a million different schools. It's always the same thing. Granted, some teachers are better than others and I haven't technically met any of my real teachers yet, but still. It's irritating.

            "Here we are!" Miss. Gonzalez smiles. "Room 204. Mr. Biggs is great, you'll like him."

            "Thanks again." I say, and quickly walk inside, more than ready to separate myself from this stranger.

            The classroom is large—about the size of your typical public high school science room—though there are only about 15 people in the room, not including the teacher. Mr. Biggs is a tall, slim blading man of about 50 or so and stands at the front of the room at a Smart Board. He smiles at me.

            "Lost?" He asks.

            "Oh. Uh, no." I stammer. "I'm Erik and I think this is my homeroom."

            "Oh, Erik Morris! Right. Right." He says, waving me in. "There's a few empty seats back there—take any one you like."

            I nod and hurry to the farthest back desk I can find, slipping my backpack off and sliding it under the desk with my foot. Mr. Biggs is going on about what we'll be doing in homeroom, or advisory, as it's called here, throughout the course of the year. I'm guessing it's a continuation on a discussion he began yesterday that I, of course, was not present for. A young woman, whom I mistook for another student until now, stand a few feet away from Mr. Biggs, speaking in rapid-fire Sign Language, which I didn't know was a thing. I didn't even know fingers could move that fast. 

            The background noise and the bright lights in the room start screwing with my sensory issues and I fight the urge to bury my face in my arms and cover my head up with my shirt—instead, rubbing my temples with my fingers to try and soothe some of the sensory anxiety away. As I'm doing this, something catches my eye. Someone, to be exact: The hottest guy I have ever fucking seen. Light brown skin, deep brown eyes and a head of curly black hair, and a bit small and skinny (but not in an unhealthy way). He sits with his cheek resting on his open palm. He notices me staring and gives a confused sort-of-smile, raising his eyebrows questioningly. I look away and quickly put my hand to my mouth, paranoid that I might have starting drooling a little.