George POV
The room was cozy. Gray walls with beige undertones, a synthetic fireplace with a dark blue chair beside it. White bookshelves filled with books George would probably never even touch, a big bed with blue covers and lastly a table with a computer setup.
George dropped his suitcase and lunged himself onto the bed and that's when he noticed how tired he actually was. He barely managed to change into something more suitable for sleeping before passing out due to the tiredness.
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He was woken up by stubborn knocks on the door. With a great amount of effort, he crawled out of the comfy bed and got dressed. His clothing-options were limited due to the recent moving situation. So he therefore he went with the same black jeans from yesterday and a plain black hoodie. He entered the connected bathroom and began brushing his teeth. When he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he saw the outline from the punch he'd received. It had faded better than expected, but you could still distinguish some minor bruising. He ran a hand through his dark hair to make it look somewhat presentable.
Today would be his first day at the new school, his father said that there was no reason to wait. Even though George never cared much about other's opinions, he couldn't help his nerves from acting up. Maybe all the turbulence that had occurred the day before played a part. Or the fact that he suddenly found himself in a completely different part of the world could contribute to his feelings. Nonetheless, he couldn't shake the nervousness .
He found a note from his father on the counter in the kitchen. The note contained the school's adress, instructions on how to get there and for some reason it also an "emergency contact", which George put into his phone.
Getting to the school wasn't too difficult. It wasn't that far from his new house, so he was able to walk there. After about a 20 minutes' walk, he arrived at a typical looking school. His father had given him a fake surname, because his real identity could apparently be dangerous to reveal. He got to keep the name George because it was deemed fairly common and wouldn't really put him in any danger.
Being the 'New kid' wasn't something that George particularly looked forward to. Though, he had decided to go with the same strategy as he usually did when meeting new people; keep people at a distance to prevent showing vulnerabilities that could be used against him.
Before entering the building, he reached down to his ankle to make sure the knives were still with him.
Upon opening the door, he was met with loud chattering, shouting and spaces that were packed with students. He was a bit overwhelmed. Because of his lacking interest in school when he lived in the UK, he had more or less forgotten the reality of the school environment.
He found his way to the reception where he was met by a elderly woman, with curly brown hair and a sweet smile.
"What can I help you with, sweetheart?"
"Well, it's my first day, so I'd very much like to know my schedule." George answered and did his best to sound polite.
"Oh, the British boy, George O'Brien, right?" She exclaimed. Making a few curious students turn their heads his way.
The unfamiliar name sounded weird and the looks from the another students made him slightly uncomfortable, but he managed to confirm that it was him and received his schedule.
"Great! Karl is supposed to guide you around today and I believe he's just waiting around the corner." George thanked the lady and even gave her a little smile.
He scanned the area to see if he could find anyone who matched the description that the woman had given him. The search didn't last long after he heard his name being called by a brunette with fluffy hair, grey, kind eyes and a colorful sweatshirt.
"Hey! You must be George, it's nice to meet you! I'm Karl and I'll be your humble servant today."
George felt a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Karl practically sparked with energy, but he seemed like a genuine nice guy and reading people tended to be one of George's better qualities.
"Yes, that would be me. Nice to meet you too, and comforting to know that I have someone showing me around in this maze."
George figured he'd probably would've found his way around the school on his own, but giving off an arrogant first impression wasn't his goal. He liked to play the underdog and would rather have people underestimate him than the other way around.
"Great! We got loads of classes together but yeez man, you got also got math classes for decades. Lucky for you that high school's soon is over. Sorry man but I would consider dropping out if I had your schedule." Karl said with an apologetic smile after examining the schedule.
"Well, I suppose numbers and equations is one of the few things that actually make sense to me. So, I don't mind math that much" George answered. Trying to reveal as little as possible to this boy he just met. Favorite subjects might seem like a casual topic. However, he preferred to know more about others than they did about him, even if it might seem like minor things. For some reason it felt reassuring knowing that nobody had some sort of catch on him. So, in an attempt to change the topic from himself, he tried to find out more about the school and his guide.
Karl was more than willing to tell him everything he wanted to know. He got informed that the school was located in one of the calmer areas of LA. Karl told him that he moved there a couple of years ago and found good friends quickly. He even said that he'd be more than happy to introduce him to them, although some of them would more often then not skip school entirely.
Karl tried to assure him that they were good people, just not very interested in school. He went as far as inviting George to join them in the skatepark after school. George couldn't really blame anyone for ditching school, that was after all something he'd been doing most his life. Even though George didn't skate, he accepted the offer, hoping that Karl's friends would be similar to Karl because he'd really grown to like the brunette and his openness, despite them just meeting.
The first class of the day was algebra. George might've agreed to give school another shot, but that didn't mean he was planning on giving it more energy than the bare minimum. Before the class, Karl kept talking about the school, giving him some insight in the different social groups that was bound to exist on all schools. George got the impression the Karl and his friends seemed to be a bit of outsiders, which was totally fine with George. Karl showed him his locker, gave him some details on where to go when his first lesson was done. Karl then led George to the classroom where algebra would take place before he had to leave to get to his own class.
When the teacher opened the door, George found a seat in the back of the classroom. Trying to stay as anonymous as possible, although the shy glances and curious looks did not go unnoticed. George was aware that he'd be the center of attention for a few days before hopefully fading into the sea of student, so the glances didn't bother him.
The teacher introduced herself as Ms. Baker. She looked to be in her forties. The brown hair was tightly pulled back into a bun and she wore a simple blue uniform accompanied by a strict expression. George got the feeling that she would definitely not be his biggest. Following authorities wasn't George's favorite thing and she seemed the thrive of the respect her presence had over the class.
Books were placed on each table and he schemed through it. Although he hadn't touched a math book in ages, it still seemed familiar and somewhat oddly comforting. The lesson began with a quick explanation of the current chapter they were working with.
Because George had transferred in the middle of a semester, he figured he would just have to tag along on what they currently doing, which appeared to be something called derivations and integrals. The concept itself didn't appear to be that difficult, so George didn't pay much attention. He was a little confused about the fact that the teacher hadn't acknowledge his presence. He was a new student after all, and he'd prepared on having to introduce himself to the class. Though, he didn't complain.
But the peace wouldn't last long. Quickly after the presentation Ms. Baker asked the class a question. It went completely silent, but she didn't seem to mind as it meant, to George dismay, that she'd choose a random student to answer her question, and of course it would be him.
"Mr. O'Brien, could you please give me the answer?" George barely registered that she was talking to him until everyone turned around to look at him. Annoyed that she had to choose him out of everyone, he just gave her a confused look and shrugged. But she wouldn't let him of the hook that easily.
"In my class everyone participates. What is 3x^4 if you apply the rules of derivation?"
He glanced at the whiteboard behind her where she had written down some examples.
"12x^3, Ms. Baker" Everyone turned their heads back at the teacher who looked slightly displeased.
"Well then, if you instead were to apply the rules of integral to the original equation?"
"(3x^5)/5+C I would assume" George couldn't ignore the slight pride he felt when he saw how his teacher's expression revealed that he'd been right.
"You'll address me as Ms. Baker, O'Brien." Was all she said in response. A small smirk spread across George's face as he understood that he had won the battle.
The rest of the class was rather uneventful. They were told to do finish page 33 and 34 then they could leave. George finished first and handed in his calculations, which Ms. Baker barely acknowledge. Not that he'd expected any other reaction to be honest. He left the classroom and figured that because he didn't know anyone, it would be best to just try and find the next classroom. With some wrong turns and a lot of confusion he finally found what he believed to be the right room. He decided to sit down and just scroll on his phone, but he was soon interrupted but an unfamiliar voice.
"Oh – Hi, are you George?" George looked up and his gaze met a pair green of eyes belonging to a tall guy with broad shoulders, tanned skin and dark blonde hair. He looked like the typical sport guy that girls drooled over, which tended to be people George more often than not didn't get along with.
"Well, it depends, who's asking?" Keeping a reserved front so he could analyze who he was talking to before making a judgment.
"I'm Clay, a friend of Karl's. He told me to step in as your guide this lecture because he had to go and help one of our friends at the skate park." The boy stated with an apologetic smile. George just nodded in response. The boy seemed weary on how to proceed after the introduction, so George moved to the side making room for the other one to sit down if he wanted to. Clay took the hint and sat down beside him. However, before either of them had the chance to even consider making a conversation, a feminine voice interrupted.
"Hi" The voice belonged to a girl with brown curly hair that reached to the middle of her back. She had beautiful blue eyes and a tiny smile plastered across her face. Her gaze seemed fixated on George, so he took it as a sign that he was the one she was talking to.
"Hello?" George answered with a questioning tone.
"Oh, your accent is adorable!" She replied with a giggle.
Confused by her intentions, George just replied with a simple. "Thanks?"
"I'm Cayla by the way."
"Well, nice to meet you." George answered, still confused what she wanted with him. He didn't bother to introduce himself. He could distinguish a slight smile for the boy sitting to his left
"I guess I'll see you around but if you need help or like want someone to show you around you can always call or text me." She said before giving him a piece of paper with what he assumed was her phone number.
"That good to know."
Cayla gave him a smile before leaving. Quickly after she left, Clay broke out in a wheezing laughter. To which George raised an eyebrow in his direction.
"Oh man, you're really not a people person then?"
"Huh? What makes you say that"
"She was obviously flirting with you and you gave her the most dry-ass answers ever."
"Was that her poor attempt of flirting?" George said with disbelief. He couldn't say that he had much experience with flirting or love for that matter. He knew his looks wasn't horrible and he'd been asked out before, even had like a middle school relationship. However, him and relationships was a combination that had a tendency to not work out because of his issue with letting people in.
"Yes, I assume it was" Clay said, still smiling
An involuntarily a smile spread across George's face. He found Clay's laugh to be was very contagious.
"So... how does it feel? Your first day and you've already been approached by one of the school's most popular girl?" Clay asked with a playful smile.
George just shrugged it off. "Well, that was probably the last time her and I will speak, she's not my type and I'm not good when it comes to relationships" George said with a quiet laugh.
"Then what's your type?" Clay asked curiously. Taken aback by the question, George tried to form a reply, but in full honesty, he didn't know what to answer. His life had always contained nothing but bad relationships and he'd never really allowed himself to think that there might be a chance for him to find a partner.
"To be honest, I have no fucking idea." Before Clay got the chance to dive deeper into George's love life, he decided to change the subject to redirect the attention away from himself.
"So, you've always lived in LA?" Clay hesitated, only for a short second, but long enough for it to not go unnoticed.
"No, I actually moved here a little over a year ago. I lived in Florida before, but my parents split up, and I decided to move here with my mom". He answered with a slight hint of sadness.
"Do you miss it?"
"Do you?" Clay countered. George was a bit unsure on how much he was willing to share with the blonde, but for some reason he felt safe in Clay's company. So, he decided to give a little more elaborated answer.
"I don't know. I've only been here for a few days but so far it isn't worse than Brighton"
Clay's green eyes gave him an examining look. "Not a fan of Brighton?"
George was uncomfortable by how easy his companion had distinguish his disinterest from one sentence. Usually, George was the one who picking up on the small clues without letting others see the things he didn't want them to see. Suddenly he felt vulnerable, which he certainly didn't like. But Clay seemed to also pick that up, so he continued.
"I'm not really a fan of my hometown either. It contains some rather unpleasant events I'd rather forget".
All George had time to do before the teacher and the rest of the students arrived was give him a quick understanding glance.
George and Clay seated themselves in the back of the classroom. Even though he wanted to deny it, it felt comforting having Clay beside him. Being alone was rarely a problem, but it was a nice change. But that's when George realized that he didn't even know what subject was on the agenda. So, he leaned a bit closer to Clay to ask and it turned out to be English, to his disappointment.
The lecture was draining and if it wouldn't have been for the blonde boy he was seated with, he'd probably have fallen asleep. But Clay's presence awoke something deep inside him that he wasn't ready to admit, but it definitely kept him alert. He was sure not to let any of his feelings show, but he was painfully aware of Clay's every move. Everything from when his tanned hands happened to brush past George's, which sent shivers down his arm. Or when he let out one of his contagious laughters that forced a smile to spread on George's lips.
After the lesson, which George couldn't recite in the slightest, it was time for lunch. Clay offered George to join him, and George, who didn't know anyone else in this school, accepted the offer. During their walk to the cafeteria, he caught Clay looking at him and George being George couldn't help but feel like he was being analyzed. He couldn't erase the feeling that everyone had a secret motive. Sure, he felt an unfamiliar sense of safety around the other boy, yet he couldn't let himself trust him. Everyone always has a secret goal they're trying to get out of a person, right?
The cafeteria was so crowded that George could hardly see in front of him. The blonde boy however towered over most of the people there. So George decided that the wise choice would be to just let Clay lead the way through all the turbulence. Somehow they found the table that was occupied by Karl and two other guys. Karl flashed them a bright smile and apologized for leaving but he said he had to help patch up the bruised guy sitting to his right guy. One of his brown eyes were swollen shut and few, small a cuts decorated his forehead under his straight ravenette hair. Some swelling appeared around his jaw as well, but the injuries didn't seem to pose any other health risks besides some slight discomfort.
Clay locked eyes with the injured boy before rolling his eyes. "Why, Nick?"
The boy, who's name apparently was Nick, was quick to defend himself "Ey man, he started it. It was Luke, you know how easily he gets on my nerves!"
"Everyone gets on your nerves, Nick. But it looks like he did a number on you." Clay shot back. George could sense that there were no ill intentions behind the words other than slight annoyance. But before Nick could reply the third guy interrupted eagerly.
"Well, you should've seen Luke."
Karl gave both Nick and the yet unknown man a wary look. "You know they won't let this go, right? Luke and Noah won't just leave you be."
Nick faced Karl and gave him a menacing look. "Then bring it on!" Which earned Nick a smack in the back of his head from Karl. George observed them all in silence before Karl spoke.
"Oh right guys, forget about your little street fight for a while. We've forgotten to introduce George to our gang." Everyone turned their attention to George, who awkwardly said hi.
"Yez, posch English man I hear." Said the one that had defended Nick's little violent encounter. The guy had black hair sticking out from underneath a well-used beanie, dark, nearly black eyes and an unpredictable expression on his face. He radiated impulsiveness, but George couldn't detect any ill intentions from him either. He started to question if maybe he'd just surrounded himself with bad people in the past.
The boy with bandages broke through George's train of thoughts. "You should come with us and skip school for a bit". Karl gave Nick a warning look but Nick ignored it.
"I heard from Karl that you guys were gonna meet there after school." George replied.
Nick huffed "Fuck school man, we're teenagers, live a little." George looked at his schedule and saw that there was two lessons left, another math class and biology. Right now, none of it felt very appealing. So, in the heat of the moment, he said yes to tagging along. He knew his father wouldn't care and to be frank, he was interested in what type of guys were giving Nick a hard time.
Karl gave George a look that signaled that it was the wrong decision, but George couldn't care less.
"You know that you could get dragged into some fighting?" Karl tried to warn him. But thanks to George's "interesting childhood", fights were more or less a part of his daily routine. For some fucked up reason, it felt a little bit reassuring to be involved in something a bit familiar again.