Ivan Braginski. Seventeen, and ready to face his biggest challenge head on. After just moving from Russia, he now had to do the inevitable.
Go to American high school.
Even though Ivan loved to learn, he'd learned a few things he wished he didn't. Mostly about the horrors of what American high schoolers can be. Stories of swirlies plagued him every time he went to the bathroom, and he was terrified to see his locker, because despite his size, he had nightmare of being shoved into it. Ivan dreaded going to school on his first day, even going as far as to say a prayer in front of his home's front door.
With that all done, he took a deep breath, put his scarf just a bit more up, and walked out into the world he couldn't escape.
Alfred F. Jones was your typical high school stereotype come alive. With blonde hair that fell just the right way and blue eyes that made every girl swoon, he was a teenage heartthrob. His looks were great, and his skills greater. Alfred was by all means an athlete. He was good at everything he did, whether it be track or baseball and anything in between. But his love for all American football overcame everything, and with hard work and sweat, he made his way to quarterback for his school's team in no time at all.
And though Alfred may have cared for his sports, he was also a genius in school. Got good grades, was a total teacher's pet, the whole ordeal. He especially loved science, where everything was always changing, no matter what the time.
Yes, in the eyes of many, Alfred was the perfect boy. But the many flaws he truly had were about to shine through, and it was all going to be because of a certain Russian boy.
As usual, the classroom of 4B was noisy, with everyone talking about everything and nothing at all. In the middle of it all sat Alfred, smiling away with his teammates from football. There were also some girls around them, hoping to get to talk to the school's star players, but the boys were too busy discussing the latest video game. Just as Gilbert, the school's linebacker was telling his friends about the video game going to be made of him one day, the teacher came in. And as usual, everyone stopped, sat down, and listened.
The teacher, Mr. Wang, called out for a few stay voices to settle down, and smiled. "Well students, I hope you all are glad to be back from your weekend." A wave of groans washed over the room accompanied by a chuckle from Yao. "Glad to hear. But I have some exciting news for you. We've got a new student joining us today. He came from Russia not too long ago, and I don't want anyone making fun of him, got it?" His response was multiple nodding heads and a few yeses, but the class knew of a few that wouldn't take the words to heart.
"Good. Now class, I'd like you to give a warm welcome to our new student, Ivan Braginski!" Mr. Wang opened the classroom door, signaling for him to walk in. And he did, but only after a few second passed by.
Some of the class gasped quietly, while others got smiles, eager to mess with the newbie. Alfred just stared and thought, this kid is gonna get killed!
Ivan was by no means small, but he was very shy. He never liked how big boned he was, which lead him to cover up in the most amount of layers he could without getting heat stroke. His clothes were baggy and gave him a look of a homeless teen and he hid his face behind a slightly wore scarf. His hands were eaten up by his sleeves and he constantly tried to keep them up. To say the least, he was a big target for bullies. Honestly, Alfred felt bad for him.
"Ivan," Mr. Wang said, "Why don't you say hello and tell us about yourself?" He smiled at him, hoping to make him more comfortable.
"…vahn." He whispered.
"Um, didn't catch that. Do you mind speaking up Ivan?"
"I-It's pronounced ee-vahn…"
"Oh, I'm sorry." He offered an apologetic look, but it seemed more like he was sorry for him. "So, anything you wanna say about yourself?"
"No…" Ivan replied softly. If possible, he dug his face even deeper into the scarf.
Mr. Wang's look was definitely a sorry one as he dismissed him to take a seat. Ivan made his way to the back of the classroom, heads turning his way from every direction. There were some snickers, quickly hushed by the teacher, and the room was almost pin drop silent.
While Ivan sat down, Alfred had on a face mimicking Mr. Wang's. Being the star student/athlete he was, he never was picked on, thus never understanding what it was to be like Ivan. Maybe, Alfred thought as he turned around, I should go talk to him at lunch. Get him to open up a bit. He stole a glance back at the Russian student and grimaced. And a new wardrobe would be a plus, he thought with a smile.
As the class began, Ivan was too preoccupied with his own thoughts to notice what the teacher rambled on about. Well, he thought, it isn't as bad as I thought it would be. But then again, Ivan's idea of bad was the floor opening up to a fiery Hell while his fellow students laughed down at him. Yeah, it was surely better than he thought. He took a chance to look up and looked straight at the board. The teacher is nice, Ivan continued, and the students have not done anything harmful yet. He smiled slightly, almost unnoticeable.
That's when something small and wet hit his right temple. Confused, he reached up and grabbed the object, only to be met with a blob of paper. Ah, he thought, this is what people would call a 'spitball'. Another one followed suit, this time squarely on his forehead. He picked up chuckles from across the room. By now his smile was gone, replaced with a frown. He sighed and picked the other off his head.
Ivan was going to hate this school.