Quicksilver - Jamilton -

Chapter 3: What a great day

"Wait, JEFFERSON?" I look around as if he hadn't just screamed my name.

"I know it's you! I could recognize that poofy hair of yours from hundreds of miles away!"

I, sadly enough, turn to face him.

"Waah I'm pretty sure subtlety doesn't exist in your world, does it?" I say with a fake smirk. "Wait, I never noticed how small you really are! Like you have a record at this point, right?"

"Please, I'm not small! You're just like, way too tall."

"Did someone summoned me? Tall is my second name after all." Says the guy that I think his name is Lafayette or.... is it Labaguette?

"Well, Laf', I think you got a competitor now!"

"Herc', please! The freak isn't even close!" Freak again, why is freckled boy always using it?! I'm not that weird, right...?

"Well," I compose myself because obviously, I can't show them I'm hurt, even just a bit. "The freak is wishing all of your deaths, now goodbye, I have better thing to do than talking with stupid people."

"Wait! But seriously, why are you here? The castle is nothing without its princess! Did your parents punished you? Aww, did mommy and daddy stopped spoiling you?" Hamilton, you're now on my list of people I hate the most.

I roll my eyes and just turn on my heels.

I sigh. Finally, I can go to my class! Talking about that, where is my class? On this floor, it's 204 and the number of the English class is 312, so... I should probably go up. Well great, this day is great. I look around and realize that the school is as ugly as I thought! The walls are in one of those colors that you can't quite name, is it supposes to be white or green? No carpet, just concrete, beige nonetheless. I'm trying to find plants but the only thing I can see is a sea of people. They look terrifying all together, if they started running all towards me, I'd be dead. 309, 308, whoops, not the right way. Aaaaaand... I'm there! English class, here I am, in all my glory!

There is already half of the class there, no surprise, first day. I take a seat where there is no one, so one in the front. I can finally relax! The king guy from before enters the class with Seabury, who seems to have all the books of the king. A quite pathetic view, may I say. I argue with myself on whether I should help him, but naah he's fine. I start to think of James, and wonder how he's doing, he never liked my friends, so he's probably alone. Poor him, well then again, I'm alone too so... pity for me too. I take my phone out to text him.

PerfectMacaroniking: Are you missing me yet?

James: No.

PerfectMacaroniking: Awwwwwww, well I am! I have no one to talk with...

James: If you weren't on your phone maybe you'll be talking to someone

PerfectMacaroniking: But my class is full of morons!

James: Okay, the teacher enters, I need to go but please try to make friends! For me.

PerfectMacaroniking: K, bye bye!

Pfft, make friends. As if I need friends, I'm fine on my own. I don't even remember how to make friends. People just naturally approached me, no need to make efforts. The bell rings, telling everyone it's time to be a good little robot and sit down.

"Hello everyone, my name is John Adams but you're going to call me Mister Adams. I'm your English teacher and your main teacher. If you got a problem come to me, don't come for silly things that you can resolve on your own. You're Seniors now, act like one." The passion in his voice is incredible, and the sarcasm in mine is palpable.

"It's your last year, you need to prepare for college. So I'll be very strict with you, as every teacher should." He pauses and looks somewhere in the fishy sea of students, yeah the classroom basically. "–and Mister Hamilton, I'm seeing you." All eyes turn to him. He is behind me on my right. "Put that phone away! And now that we're on the subject of you, don't interrupt me in class, I know you got a lot of things to say but I —and the other students— don't want to hear you." Some chuckles, other nods to agree with him, me? Oh, I really don't care.

"Mister Adams, I would never interrupt you! But if I did, I'm sure what I'd say would be much more interesting than whatever comes out of your mouth." Now it's the turn of Adams to be embarrassed, but he seems much angrier. About to say something, but he cut himself before breathing in a big chunk of air. "It's the first day, so I'll cut you some slack, but do not disrespect me like that ever again, clear?"

"Crystal."

For the next 40 minutes, Mr. Adams talks about the details of the school year. The options we choose, what his class is going to be like, the club we can join, things like that. After, we have 20 minutes to find our lockers and put our stuff in it. Mine is close to that annoying kid, Hamilton, but the whole class is close to each other, so it's just a detail.

The next class is art with Martha Washington. It's the same thing as Mr. Adams's class, explanations. She really just seems more excited. Then, break time! Where I just read a book, one James kept talking about. It must be good, well, I hope! Next, P.E. with Mr. Washington. Ok, this day is just about explanations, my god. The weird thing about P.E. is that it feels like we were in the army?

Afterward, it's lunchtime, which means choosing somewhere to sit. Yikes. But, before, let's talk about the line. I waited like, 30 minutes just to finally see the food! Oh, and the food, can we talk about the food? Is it even editable? Because it does not look like it. How can they all eat it like it's normal? The soup is green and cold, there is more water in that juice than anything else and the "dessert" is some orange Jell-O. Ew. Above all, it's $10 for all that. Tomorrow, I'm so bringing my own lunch. I check the tables, trying to find one that looks cool. A normal group of people, a normal group of people— the footballers! Let's go there! As I make my way, I hear murmurs about me. when I reach their table I can see them glance at me displeased, and I started to regret my decision. But not enough to make me back out.

"Hi! I was thinking about joining the football team, do you know where is the inscriptions?" They look at each other and one of them says:

"Sorry, we don't take new people this year." And they continue to talk as if I'm not there. Yes, that's not embarrassing at all. I'm just going to sit on one of the empty tables. I hear a guy sigh.

"Ok, what, this time?!"

"Just that, that's the table I take normally, but it's fine. I'm going to sit with you as long as you don't talk to me."

Who says that?

"Oh, by the way, my name is Aaron Burr." He gives me his hand but keeps his eyes on his book.

"Burr, huh? My name is Thomas Jefferson, a pleasure to meet you. Hey, I'm reading this book too!"

Maybe this day isn't that bad.