Dedicated to coolmanab for the awesome trailer!!
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When the doors of the school closed behind me, the feeling of being watched vanished as suddenly as it had arrived. I had half the mind to go back outside just to see if it would return. I quickly dismissed the idea as that would be foolish. Instead, I added it the ever-expanding list of things I would try to forget about.
As I began walking through the halls of the school in search for the principal's office, I realized it would probably be quicker to simply ask McKenzie, who was trailing behind me. But considering he was continuing the rant he had started outside I was content with ignoring him.
The hallways were quite empty. It was something I didn't know whether to chalk up as evidence of how few students attended Edmond High or if majority of them were just already inside their classrooms. Most of the people I did see were rummaging through their lockers.
I soon noticed there were several black and red banners hanging all over the place. Each of them depicted the head of a Native-American war chief with various sayings, like 'Warrior Pride' or 'We Are Warriors!' giving me the indication that they represented the school's logo and nickname.
As I walked, I became aware that something around me had changed. It was hard for me to put my finger on exactly what it was, then it hit me. Motor mouth McKenzie had finally stopped talking. Checking over my shoulder to see if my cousin was still there, I saw him with his head on a swivel, eyeing his surroundings attentively. As if he was searching for something. Probably girls.
Turning back to what was in front of me, I stopped in my tracks just as I was about to collide with an odd-looking girl. She had come to a stop in the middle of the hallway, glaring up at one of the banners. I tried to take a few steps back, but ended up bumping into McKenzie, causing him to jump in fright. He let out a shriek in a voice that you could be forgiven for thinking belonged to a girl. Of course, that drew the attention of the girl in front of me, who promptly turned her glare onto the both of us.
I wouldn't call the girl ugly, exactly. She just came across as a rather strange individual. If she ditched, both, the overly large glasses and Grandma-style turtleneck sweater she wore, then she would be a passable looking girl with curly blonde hair and freckles splattering her nose and cheeks.
"It's a travesty, don't you think?" The girl asked me curtly. "I can't believe our school won't do something about this! This is a complete and utter mockery of the proud and honorable Native-American people that graced these lands before us."
"Not this again," McKenzie muttered quietly, but still loud enough for the girl to hear.
The girl looked like she was about to go off on McKenzie when she noticed me out of the corner of her eyes. She brusquely turns her gaze fully on me. "Oh, where are my manners? My name is Greta Evans! I'm Student Council President of Edmond High School," she introduced herself quite proudly. "I presume you are our new student Aaron Cooke, correct?" She offered out her hand, a smile now crossing her lips. Is this school so very small that every student and teacher would automatically know my name right off the bat?
I nodded and shook her hand—it felt cold and clammy—but before I could say anything McKenzie cut me off. "Yep, this is my cousin!" He exclaimed before once again attempting to throw his arm over my shoulder. Anticipating this awkward move, I side-stepped away from him, causing hie arm to fall through the air.
Greta's eyes widened in what could be nothing but shock. I assume it was for what McKenzie had said, of course, and not my awesome ninja moves. "You're related? I was hoping the same last name thing was just coincidence. No, it's not possible," Greta breathed. "It can't be! He's so good looking and you're so..." she trailed off, her face starting to blush.
I dug my hands into my jean pockets and let out a deep sigh. Inwardly, I was wishing I was anywhere else in the world. Even being locked back inside Uncle Kasey's truck would be welcome compared to this. Oddly enough, McKenzie started laughing. "Obviously, he's my cousin, I've been telling you about him all week."
I wondered how boring McKenzie's life must be if he had spent his entire week boasting about me. Should I be flattered or concerned for the guy's obvious lack of better conversation topics?
Greta shook her head. "I don't recall these conversations. Not at all."
"Not this again, Greta. Don't pretend like you weren't listening to me, I know how you hang onto my every word." McKenzie turned to me. "She's totally into me!" I waited until the poor guy looked away from me to roll my eyes.
Greta put her hands on her hips and began breathing heavily. "McKenzie Cooke, I am not 'into you' and you know it!" she said, making quotations marks with her fingers. "Anyway, if you would excuse me, I need to show Aaron around school."
McKenzie made a spluttering noise with his mouth. "Why would you need to show him around when I'm already doing it?"
"Because I'm the Student Council President, and it's my job to show new students around our school!"
"Yeah, you're the Student Council President, alright," McKenzie said while laughing. "And, if I remember correctly, it was a pretty tight election...even though you were running unopposed."
Greta and McKenzie's argument quickly turned into an exchange of insults that didn't seem to be ending anytime soon. It was just about the lamest argument I had ever heard in my life. Glancing at one of the clocks hanging on the wall, I saw it was getting dangerously close to the start of the first period and I needed to get to that meeting with the principal.
Deciding both McKenzie and Greta were a lost cause, I jogged down the hall, scanning every doorway in sight for the principal's office. I quickly started to become paranoid I wasn't going to find it in time and realized I'd better find someone to ask.
The only person in sight, however, was a seedy looking guy with ash-blonde hair. His lips were seemingly attached to the water fountain that he was drinking from. Putting aside my doubts, I walked up to him. "Excuse me, can you tell me where the principal's office is?"
The guy turned away the fountain and stared me up and down. He easily reminded me of a beaver with the way his two front teeth stuck out. "What? This your first time getting in trouble or something?" The boy broke out into laughter like some sort of demonic donkey.
I shook my head in frustration and walked past the boy. However, before getting very far, I spotted something in the corner of my eye and backtracked. On my right-hand side, near the fountain, was a door labeled 'Administration Office'. I groaned at the thought of how I walked right past this door. Beaver boy continued to laugh behind me as I entered.
Inside the room, I was greeted by the principal's secretary, a young woman in her mid-twenties who was sitting at her desk and tapping away on her laptop. She explained that the principal was waiting for me and gestured for me to enter the door over her right shoulder. After thanking her, I entered the principal's office.
The office itself was not unlike any previous principal offices I had seen. The walls were a dark-paneled wood, the floors highly polished linoleum, smelling slightly of cinnamon. A few potted plants filled the office's corners, and a large wooden desk dominated the room. Behind the desk sat a man who could only be the principal himself.
Principal Daniel Peterson III was a well-built, bald man in his middle ages. As I approached his desk, the man halted his progress on building what seemed to be a cabin made from pencils. He soon glared at me and began breathing intently through his nostrils.
"You finally decided to show up did you, Aaron Cooke?" The principal spoke with a sharp edge to his voice. "Homeroom starts in just a few minutes. Did you hope to make a big splash by forcing me to delay my morning announcements because I must speak with you? Well, tough luck mister, this is my school, and at my school we don't let hotshot out-of-towners run amok and inflict chaos on our perfectly planned daily schedule!"
I blinked rapidly a few times, feeling imprudent. "Umm...I'm sorry, sir," I said, fumbling my away into the chair placed in front of Principal Peterson's desk. "I just overslept, and—" I didn't get to finish my explanation before Principal Peterson cut me off.
"Who told you that you could sit down?"
I quickly jumped to my feet. "No one did, sir."
Principal Peterson growled, apparently having seen some sort of mockery in my mere four-word response. "Sit back down, boy, we have a lot to discuss and not much time." I hesitated for a moment. "NOW!" Principal Peterson roared, his face turning red with anger.
The dude had some serious issues that needed a therapist's attention quick. I sunk back down into the chair, while Principal Peterson frantically yanked open his desk drawer and produced a small, round ball. He clamped the ball in his meaty hands and began to squeeze it. I hoped that wasn't his only way of combating his anger, because it wasn't working.
"Don't think I don't know about you, boy. You're from the city, and the city means drugs!"
I nearly gaped at the man. Before I could even begin to think about defending myself,, Principal Peterson continued on. "Drugs and gangs and alcohol. Yes, those are what you find in those slums that you call schools in the cities. Students get raped in the hallways and corpses are found shoved in someone's locker every other week. Well, we won't have any of that here. I won't let you turn my school into some sort of polluting, sewage dump and corrupt the youth of my city.
"My father was the principal of Edmond High School before me. Did you know that? Of course, you didn't. Why would some punk druggy from the city care about my school's proud and honored history? Regardless, my father kept this school drug and alcohol free for fifty years, and I don't plan on allowing some city boy to come in and ruin this glorious school. You probably thought this was going to an easy mark, didn't you? You planned on just strolling in, pushing your cocaine and weed onto unsuspecting students, and then move on once the heat got too warm for you. I hate to burst your bubble, buddy. But I won't stand for it!"
It took every bit of willpower on my part to hold my tongue. The only thing that stopped me from laughing out loud at that ludicrous speech was the realization that it was probably what this Principal Peterson was trying to do. He probably wanted me to snap and prove his asinine point that I was just some scumbag from the city looking to pollute his precious town with weed and corpses that rape people, or whatever it was that he was afraid of. However, I wouldn't give him that satisfaction of disrespecting him. I stared at the crazy principal; my lips unmoving.
"So...you better just come clean now and hand over all the marijuana you brought over from the city, and maybe, just maybe, I'll go light on you," Principal Peterson finished his rant by pounding the fist onto the table, causing me to jump.
"Umm..." I began, expecting Principal Peterson to cut me off again. To my surprise, he didn't. It seemed Principal Peterson was all of out of crazy as he sat back in his chair, breathing heavily. It was then that I realized I was actually going to have to say something "You know I attended a private school in Boca Raton, Florida, right?" I asked, arching a dark brow.
Principal Peterson didn't say anything at first. He just gave me a sort of one-eyed squint that seemed to be interrogative. He then opened up his laptop on his desk and began pounding away on his keyboard. Once he was finished with that, he opened the folder on his desk and hastily scanned it. "That seems to check out."
Principal Peterson took a piece of paper out of the folder and closed it, before handing the paper to me. "This is your class schedule, as well as your locker number. As you can see, your homeroom classroom and teacher are the same of that of your first period, which is English 11 with Mr. Wilkes. I hope you have a great day and enjoy your time here at Edmond High School." Principal Peterson finished it off by giving me the most forced smile I had ever seen someone provide. I couldn't even think to be polite back to this man; I'm certain my facial expression held shock. "Now, if you don't mind, I have some morning announcements to make."
I didn't need to be told anymore indirectly that I should get out of that office as quickly as I could. Once I was safely on the other side of the door as Principal Peterson and after asking the secretary—who was much nicer and saner than the principal —for directions, I sprinted through the halls to my homeroom. Part of me couldn't help but wonder what would happen if Principal Peterson did find drugs inside his beloved school. He'd probably have a heart attack.
The classroom soon came into view and so did McKenzie, stumbling out from the bathroom across from me, his hair soaking wet, water droplets sprinkling his shirt.
"What happened to you?" I asked with a raised brow.
McKenzie jumped about a foot in the air and spun to face me. "Goddammit, man! Don't just jump out at people like that! You could give a guy a heart attack."
"How did you know what I was thinking about?
"What?
"Never mind. But, still, what happened to your hair?"
"Oh..." McKenzie ran his hand through his wet hair, looking slightly agitated. However, the look soon turned into another one of his cheesy grins. It was getting to the point I was starting to hate those. "I'm just so hot I needed to cool myself off a bit. You know, so everyone else doesn't feel so bad about themselves"
McKenzie winked at me. I resisted a groan and decided to go back to my earlier plan of ignoring him entirely.
Principal Peterson was just finishing his announcements over the P.A when I finally entered the classroom. There were about twenty kids scattered about the classroom, some lounging about and others sitting at their shared, rectangular desks. From what McKenzie had told me, the class apparently made up the entire 11th grade of the school.
I soon became aware that almost everyone was staring at me. I blinked. Maybe if I did such a small action, people would realize they were watching me intently and look away. That wasn't the case. Everyone was still staring at me and I began to feel very self-conscious. My eyes dropped for a few seconds to check to make sure my pants were still on. Thankfully, they were.
Unsure on how to react, I just stood there. It was to the point that I was probably looking like a deer caught in the headlights of Uncle Kasey's truck. The seconds seemed to last hours as the awkward silence engulfed the room. Fortunately, I was saved by the most unlikely of heroes. McKenzie.
"What's up my peeps?" He declared loudly as he entered the classroom. Almost immediately everyone's gazes slipped away, and the conversations throughout the room seemingly picked up from where they stopped. For once, I was glad to have McKenzie at my side.
"Oh, you must be our new transfer student," The teacher said abruptly, looking up from the notebook he was writing in at his desk. The guy was seemingly oblivious to the awkward moment that had just taken place. "I am Mr. Wilkes." He was a tan-skinned man with greying hair, who appeared to have some sort of Native American heritage.
Mr. Wilkes closed his notebook and stood up to shake my hand, as he did, for the first time in years, I felt like a small child. Not literally, of course, but physically, as Mr. Wilkes was a giant. Just over seven feet tall, he easily dwarfed most of the kids in the classroom. Despite being tall, Mr. Wilkes didn't look very athletic. His legs were abnormally long compared to the rest of the body and seemed very brittle. Even spaghetti-armed McKenzie could probably knock him over.
After having me introduce myself to the rest of the class, Mr. Wilkes told everyone to be seated. McKenzie beckoned me over to a desk in the middle of the classroom, seemingly unaware that one of the seats was already occupied by a guy with blonde hair, who was dressed in a black track suit with an extremely blank look on his face.
This was fine by me. I didn't want to sit next to McKenzie. I was thankful for his earlier intervention, even if it probably wasn't my cousin's intention, I still considered him a pest.
No one was sitting next to Greta, who noticed me looking her way and started smiling. Before she could try to invite me over, I quickly grabbed the closest empty seat. The guy sharing the desk with me was a muscular looking dude, dressed in a black sleeveless shirt. His skin was deep mocha color and his hair was closely cut in a fade.
"Name's Jordan," the guy said in a low tone as Mr. Wilkes began reading aloud from a poetry book. "Don't worry too much about that awkward welcome, we just don't get new students here much, man. Hell, some people still stare at me like I'm the first black person they've ever seen, and my family has been living here my entire life."
Jordan began to laugh quietly, and I couldn't help but smirk. I could already tell I was going to like Jordan. He seemed to be the sanest person I had met since arriving. Yep, things were starting to look up. Maybe meeting one normal person didn't seem like a great indication of that, but I was certain there was no way things could get any worse.
I trudged through the crowded cafeteria, carrying a lunch tray that included Montana Beef Tacos. If there was any difference from plain, old beef tacos, I decided I didn't want to know. I reminisced on what had already turned into a terrible day. And it was only noon!
After English class ended, so did my positive attitude on life. The schoolwork was relatively boring considering everything we were covering were things I had already learned during my freshman year at my old school in Florida—I guess I wasn't going to have any anxiety about failing any exams, at least.
For second period, I had Social Studies, which was a subject I used to enjoy but not anymore. The teacher was a terrible, older woman with a beak-like nose and an unnaturally long neck. Her name was Miss Slitwick. She lectured me and the rest of the class for a good fifteen minutes before allowing me to take a seat. She droned on and on about how someone needed to make an example of today's youth and how that all the terrible things that happen were brought upon society by their actions. It aggravated me enough that I wanted to ask her if my parent's death were my fault, but I found myself afraid of what she would say.
Nothing too unusual happened during my next two classes, but after being screamed at by both the principal and a teacher, laughed at by a beaver boy, and almost getting hit by a limo, I was in a foul mood. I was also very hungry. Since I'd missed breakfast, the last time I had eaten was during my family meal with the Cooke's, which was now over fifteen hours ago.
Now the only thing I wanted was to find somewhere that I could sit, so I could eat my Montana beef tacos and refried beans in peace. The only problem? Every student in the school had lunch at the same time, so there wasn't too much seating available.
While Edmond High was a small school with about only twenty students per grade, the cafeteria was even smaller. Students packed around the small round tables, resembling sardines in a can. They were all eating, laughing, playing, and generally being very loud. There was only one teacher in the cafeteria, apparently on lunch monitor duty, but she just sat on a chair in the corner of the room ignoring the chaos.
Searching for a table that I would be welcomed to sit at, I nearly bumped into McKenzie. My annoying cousin was actually attempting to eat while standing in the center of the cafeteria. He sat his tray on his forearm while keeping it close to his chest as he tried scooping some refried beans onto his mouth.
"Where do you usually sit?" I finally brought myself to ask after watching his amusing try-and-fail attempt at eating while standing.
McKenzie didn't answer. I was about to repeat my question when I noticed a table in the far corner of the room that seemed relatively empty. It had a wide berth from the disarray that plagued the cafeteria. However, I also realized each of the students seated there were dressed in finer clothing then your run-of-the-mill student—and they were all girls. Italia Galloway was one of them. It became obvious to me that these students must come from the wealthier families in Edmond, the ones that lived in the community near the lake that McKenzie had spoken of or at the ranches in the countryside.
The girls were participating in a rather pleasant looking conversation, practically ignoring everything around them. One of them noticed my watching and pointed at me, seemingly forgetting that pointing wasn't exactly polite. They began to inspect me much in the same way that Italia had done that morning. It was at the point it that I was getting tired of being observed like some sort of exotic creature that had wandered into the school.
I was about to turn away when one of them seemed to beckon me over. I retained the urge to turn away, but McKenzie nudged my shoulder. "Go on, dude! See what they want. This could be huge—for both of us!"
I groaned, now understanding why Uncle Kasey grunted so much. Nevertheless, I gave in and maneuvered my way through the crowded cafeteria, with McKenzie following uncomfortably close behind. The girls watched me the entire way.
I reached their table and stood in front of them like a man on trial. "You're the transfer student?" one of the girls sitting at the table asked.
"Yes," I replied, causing one of them to laugh. That confused me greatly, but I tried not to let it show.
"Where are you from?"
"Florida."
"I could tell, you have an accent," another girl said.
Was she kidding? I don't have an accent.
"Give us a second, we need to talk about this," the first girl said.
The girls nearest to me got up from the table and moved to the other side, where they all huddled closely together before setting their heads ever closer to one another. I noticed the only one that gave any input on the decision was Italia. Occasionally, one of the girls would glance at me before turning their attention back on her alone.
Once Italia was finished speaking, the girls propped themselves back into their seats and casually gave me another look over. "We've decided," one of the girls said, as if it were anybody's decision but Italia's, "that you can sit with us."
Quite a few sarcastic remarks threatened to spill from me regarding that bizarre judging process, but someone behind me spoke before I could.
"Awesome!" McKenzie declared, setting his tray on the table with the widest grin I had ever seen on his face.
"NOT YOU!" Italia cried, darting out of her chair. After fully realizing just how loudly she had spoken, she sunk back down into her chair and signaled another girl to continue.
"We said Aaron could sit with us. Not—" The girl shuddered looking at McKenzie. "Not you."
McKenzie's grin dropped immediately. "Oh...oh—that's cool." McKenzie picked up his tray from the table.
"McKenzie..." I began awkwardly.
"No, its fine, Aaron," McKenzie said, drearily walking away. "I'll find somewhere else to sit."
"Why would you want to hang out with that guy?" One of the girls asked, but I purposely ignored them.
I watched McKenzie attempt to push his way through the crowd, finding myself all of a sudden feeling very bad for my annoying cousin. A tall guy with light brown hair stalked up behind McKenzie. Before I could even yell a warning, the guy struck. He shoulder-checked him from behind, causing McKenzie to stumble. McKenzie lost his grip on his tray and, along with all of his food, loudly fell tumbling to the ground.
The jerk stalked away towards a nearby table that seated only three other students—one of whom was the beaver tooth boy from the hallway. All of them were all hooting and hollering like monkeys.
"Nice one, Shred," one of them said and exchanged high-fives with the jerk, who smiled smugly.
McKenzie stared down at the floor where his launch now resided. He looked crestfallen. "Oh, god, what a loser," said one of the girls shaking her head. At that moment I knew what I had to do.
McKenzie might be a pest and probably the most annoying person in the world, but he still didn't deserve to be treated like dirt. The guy had no friends, and parents who seemed completely uninterested in him. And above all that, he had to endure it all in Edmond, Montana of all places. I still felt my life was worse, but McKenzie's still came close. At least I had many years of happiness before it all came crumbling down. A strong part of me wasn't sure if the poor guy had ever truly been happy. Maybe the two of us were more alike than I cared to admit. Plus, I had to give the guy credit for remaining so positive even though he lived such a sucky life.
Sure, McKenzie was pretty awkward to be around, and most of the stuff that came out of his mouth was utter nonsense, but he was still my cousin and we were family. Besides that, what kind of friend would I be if I didn't have my new wingman's back?
Italia, clearly noticing the resolve in my eyes, leaned forward. "Aaron, sit down. Now!" She ordered, glaring daggers at me.
I shook my head. "Actually, I think I'll find somewhere else to sit. Thanks for the offer, though." With that, I turned and walked away. I did a quick look back to see Italia fuming. Getting completely rejected was probably a first for the popular girl. I couldn't feel too good about it as this seemed to be the end of my social life.
McKenzie didn't react to me until I nudged him. "Come on, let's find somewhere to sit."
McKenzie looked at me, then back at the table of girls, and then back at me. "Are you stupid or something?"
I resisted the strong urge to slap McKenzie outside the head. "Are you coming are not?"
McKenzie left his fallen tray behind and followed me. As we searched for somewhere, anywhere to sit, I noticed that people were no longer looking at me like an exotic creature, but now like I was a complete and utter buffoon.
We didn't have to look long for seating as a familiar voice called out to us. "Yo, Aaron, over here!" Immediately, I recognized the voice. It belonged to Jordan, and I spotted him sitting at a nearby table with a few other guys.
We finally found ourselves at a table where we were both welcome at. Since McKenzie had lost his food, he took to staring longingly at my own tray of food until I handed him one of the tacos. Inwardly I hoped my idiot cousin appreciated everything I did for him lately. I sacrificed popularity and gave away my food. I was on a roll for cousin-of-the-year for sure.
"How are your skills with the rock, Aaron?" One boy with red-hair and freckles asked me.
"Excuse me?"
"Basketball. He means basketball," Jordan explained, shaking his head at his friend. "You, my new friend, are sitting with the varsity basketball team of Edmond High."
"Wait, if this is where the basketball team sits," I said, turning towards McKenzie, "then why didn't you sit here to begin with?" McKenzie smiled sheepishly. "I mean, he is on the basketball team, right? Or did he lie about that too?"
Jordan looked a bit sheepish "Well, he's not lying about being on the team..." he trailed off awkwardly. That was when I guessed his not sitting with them had something to do with McKenzie's personality.
"Aaron was on the team at his old school!" McKenzie blurted out stupidly, seemingly wanting to toss the attention away from himself.
All the guys perked up at that. "That's awesome. Maybe with you and Jordan we can win more than two games this season!" One of them said.
"Is this the entire team?" I asked in surprise. Not counting myself, there were six people at the table, which was not a preferable number for a basketball team by any means.
The red-haired guy nodded. "Yep, it's just us. But we're always on the lookout for new talent."
"There's a guy named Boone on the team, too," Jordan added. "We just never see him during lunch for some reason. But anyway, just come by practice on Monday after school, I'm sure coach will be fine with it.
"Well, you have certainly chosen some interesting friends to interact with, Mr. Cooke," a rough voice declared from behind me. Wincing, I guessed the voice belonged to Principal Peterson.
As I turned to confirm this guess, I found I was unfortunately correct. Principal Peterson stood looming over me with a smile on his face that didn't reach his eyes.
"Good afternoon, Principal Peterson." Echoed all the guys at the table almost robotically.
Principal Peterson nodded and strolled away with his hands behind his back. He stopped in his tracks at the mess of food on the floor from McKenzie's tray. "Who's responsible for this?" He asked. Thankfully, he was drowned out by the chattering students and no one paid him any attention.
Instead of bellowing at the top of his lungs like I expected, Principal Peterson marched over to the teacher on lunch monitor and began exchanging some heated words with her.
"Is he always so..." I tried to think of a word other than insane to describe him. "Intense?"
"You mean bat-crap crazy with a side of loony?" Jordan offered with a roll of his shoulders.
"Yes."
"You bet he is. Scotty actually found him going through our lockers during practice once. We think he was looking for steroids." Jordan began laughing. "If he wanted to know if we were juicing then he should just watch us play. But he practically has his eye on me all the time, probably because..." Jordan tapped the skin on his forearm and I understood right away what he meant.
That made me groan. Not only was my new principal a drug-finding obsessed psycho, but he was also racist. Great.
"I think he might have found a new target," One of the guys offered before taking a bite of taco.
I looked and saw Principal Peterson on the other side of the cafeteria, his eyes locked directly on me alone. His stare was so unnerving that it reminded me of that feeling I had that morning of being watched. It made me wonder if I hadn't been just been imagining things and if that the person watching me was Principal Peterson, too. Had he been staring out his window, just waiting for me to arrive this morning? Was he that inane? I didn't put it past him.
Never for a moment during my long first day at Edmond High did I think I would miss school, but once I got back home, I realized just how much I relished being away from this crazy, new family of mine.
For the ride back in Uncle Kasey's truck, I decided to sit up front this time. Awkward silence beat the risk of getting thrown out of a moving truck any day. After dropping us off, Uncle Kasey told us that he had to get back to work and wouldn't be back until late at night. He then sped off.
Inside my day got even worse when I was met with the sight of Aunt Katherine grooving to Justin Bieber. Quickly retreating to my and McKenzie's bedroom, my cousin quickly claimed the computer. I decided to do my homework and wait for my turn on the laptop, but it was hard to concentrate when Kody ran into the room to say "Live or die, Aaron. Make your choice" every few minutes. McKenzie airily informed me that it had something to do with a horror movie Kody watched all the time. It sadly brought me to the conclusion that, despite being a weirdo and all, McKenzie was still easily the most normal member of this family.
Eventually, it was dinner time, something I had been looking forward to until I found out we were eating a nasty smelling tuna casserole. Despite complaining about having to eat pizza, Kody wolfed down the casserole like a champ before slopping seconds and the thirds onto his plate. He was a very odd kid.
After dismissing myself from dinner early, I waited for McKenzie in his room. I wanted to play some video games, but McKenzie insisted on going through his "rankings" first. I had no idea what he meant by that until he started reading his list aloud. Apparently, McKenzie had ranked every girl in school and adjusted it weekly. I didn't have the heart to tell the guy that keeping a list like that was one of the leading contributions to the reasons why he didn't have a girlfriend. Oddly enough, even after the events that day in the cafeteria, Italia was still ranked first.
Soon it was late enough to sleep. As I settled down, my thoughts drifted back to my dream the previous night. Trying as hard as I could to squelch the memories, I just wasn't able to. Somehow, in my head that dream was linked to the mysterious eyes I felt on me that morning. Soon I remembered what the stupid monkey had said, about that...what did he call it...Dream Stalker. Maybe the monkey was right. Maybe this Dream Stalker was coming for me.
NO!
I easily laughed at the ridiculousness of such a thought. It had been just a dream. A plain, old dream. A vivid one, but still just a dream. None of it was real nor could it be applied to reality. Even with those thoughts strong in my head, I couldn't help but fear winding up back in the same dream again that night as I drifted off to sleep.