Broken Memory ✓

3. Math Solving for the Void

So I stay seated where I am, still blasting music through my earbuds, and wait for the school day to start.

The bell ringing takes my attention from my phone and I turn it off, shoving it into my bag with my earbuds. I sit up from the seat on the bench and look at my hand where I had written down my locker number. Locker 1093. I swing my bag over my shoulder and navigate through the halls, finding locker 1093 towards a corner. I put the combination in and it successfully opens. One thing that goes right today.

A kid arrives at locker 1092 on my left. The other kid from the antique shop - the one beating that guy up that wasn't the taller of the two. He glances at me and his eyes widen in realization for a split second before he tries to cover it up. I ignore him, putting various notebooks into my locker and bringing myself back to my schedule.

Study Hall

Science

History

P.E.

Art

Lunch

English

Math

With that, I take a book from my locker, as well as a notebook and pencil, and scan the hallways. I've no idea where the study hall is. That's fun. I glance towards the guy from earlier and decide to ask him, immediately regretting my decision. "Hey, do you know where study hall is?"

He looks at me and smiles. "I don't know why you're asking me, considering I have reason to misdirect you."

"You're a familiar face, even if I don't particularly enjoy it," I retort.

"Liam is going to kill me for this, he really hates you, but over there," he nudges his head towards a set of double doors.

"Liam, huh? I'll make sure to avoid any Liams, then."

"Avoid Jonathans while you're at it," he gives me a small smile and I realize his name is Jonathan.

"Why don't you hate me like Liam does?" I inquire.

He shrugs, "I have to go."

"Alright..." I murmur as he walks away. I shut my locker and use his directions, opening one of the double doors and finding that he really did guide me to a study hall. The room is filled with various square tables, four chairs for each, scattered around in seemingly random places. I pick a seat at a vacant table and look around. Kids file into the room, whispering or staying quiet, and I assume that the study hall is fairly strict since most kids would be louder.

"Alright, whoever isn't seated in the next few seconds will be marked tardy," an adult instructs. This encourages kids to hurry and find a seat, avoiding my table, but I'm fine with that. "Three," she begins to count down. "Two," she approaches the door to close it. "One," she shuts the door and the bell rings simultaneously. Immediately, there's knocking on the door, and she sighs as she opens it back up. "You're late."

"Yeah, sorry," he says. He hurries over to the nearest table - my table - and smiles at me as he sits down. The first thing that strikes me about him is his dimples that show very clearly, even when his smile is small. Acne covers his chin and forehead, but it's easy to forget since it's so small. His eyes are a bright green and from what I can tell, he's medium weight. He wears a baggy red flannel and from his messy curls of brown hair, looks like he just got out of bed. "Sorry," he whispers to me. "I don't know if you want me to sit here."

"It's fine," I smile. "As long as you don't mind me sticking around with you so I can have some sort of guidance."

"Direct, huh?" he quietly chuckles. "Connor."