After heaving a big sigh, Tom Fletcher plucked up his courage and pushed the double doors that led to the main hallway of his new school. His parents had just gotten divorced and his mother won his custody, which was why they moved from Harrow to Bolton, where they found a good-sized house near the school whose doors he had just opened.
The hallway looked almost exactly like his other school, except for the unfamiliar faces staring at him. There weren't many students there yet, since he came thirty minutes early. Some turned away immediately afterwards, while the gazes of the others lingered as he made his way across the shiny, minimally littered hall. He wanted to ask someone where his first class was located, but everyone seemed to dislike him already. That's what I get for being new here, I guess he thought, and made his miserable way around the school all by himself, looking at the piece of paper in his hand and the rooms he passed to see which one his first class was.
When all hope seemed lost, he found a lone brunette boy with his back turned, digging in his locker. Since no one's around… I guess it couldn't hurt to ask… He approached the boy and tapped him on the shoulder. The brunette quickly turned around and looked at him with the bluest eyes he had ever seen on a person before. He gave an embarrassed smile and scratched his head.
"Er… D'you think you can help me? I can't seem to find my first class," he managed to say. The brunette smiled at first, his teeth pearly white. The smile gave Tom the expression that he seemed real excited to have met someone new.
"I guess you're new here, yeah? What d'you have?" he asked Tom with a thick accent, his smile never faltering. Tom pulled out his schedule from his pocket, which he stuffed inside before he approached the boy. He never bothered to look at exactly which classes he had, just the rooms. Upon retrieving it, he opened it up and looked back at the boy.
"Erm, French is my first class," Tom replied and made a move to put the piece of paper back into his pocket.
"Oh, don't put that away," said the boy, motioning for Tom to give him the paper instead. "Let me see what other classes you have." Tom complied and handed it to his large hand, well larger than his anyway. His blue eyes narrowed and he started biting the inside of his cheek as he read.
"Well, we only have one class together," he finally said, handing Tom back the paper. "French. I've been doing well in that class. You'll like the teacher, though, but sometimes she's a bit hard to understand. I'll show you to your other classes instead."
"Thanks," said Tom with a smile as he stuffed the paper back in his pocket, which the boy returned two-fold. "I'm Tom. Tom Fletcher."
"Ah'm Danny… Jones. Nice to meet ya." He put an emphasis on the Jones, like he forgot his last name. He smiled and turned around to close his locker. Five minutes in school and I've already made a friend. I think I'm off to a good start Tom thought.
"Alright. Let's go," Danny said, who had already started walking. Tom snapped back to his senses and quickly followed.
The trip around the school to get to his classes wasn't as hard as Tom thought. All his classes were only a short way from each other, which he was thankful for. He hated walking up and down flights stairs after each class. The tour scraped off twenty minutes, but he didn't mind. At least he knew now where all of his classes were. Finally, Danny led him into their French class, and they were greeted by a tall woman with her graying hair tied up in a bun at the top of her head.
"'Oo do we 'ave 'ere?" she asked with a thick French accent.
"We have a nouveau student, Madame LaCroix," answered Danny, sporting a wide smile. Madame LaCroix eyed him slyly.
"Wiz or wizout un 'x'"? she asked. Danny brought his hand to scratch his chin and contemplated for a moment. Tom looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
"Erm… Without," Danny finally said. A smirk crept on her face, the top and bottom area of her lips wrinkling with the sudden movement.
"Final answer?" Danny cocked his eyebrows in deep thought, biting once again the inside of his cheek. He nodded his reply and the teacher's smirk blossomed into a full-blown smile.
"Très bien!" she said, clapping her hands together. Danny smiled proudly and whispered, "I told you I've been doing well" to Tom, who couldn't help but smile. Then, apparently acknowledging his appearance since Danny spoke, she turned to Tom and asked his name.
"Tom Fletcher. Nice to meet you," he replied and shook hands with her.
"Well, Tom, you've come at un nice day. Today, everyone's going to take un test." Tom smiled when he heard Danny say "aww, no!" behind him. At that moment the bell rang, and it didn't take long until the whole room was filled with students. He realized that Danny had already taken his seat (the last seat at the back of the room) when Madame LaCroix cleared her throat, which obviously indicated her demand for silence from her students. Not that she needed to, since everyone was quiet and had their eyes fixed on Tom.
"As you can see," said Madame LaCroix, walking over to Tom and placing a hand on his shoulder. "We 'ave un new student. Introduce yourself, if you please." Tom looked at her, then to the whole class, an awkward smile creeping on his face. Oh, no, Tom. Don't you dare mess this up. Remember, first impressions are severely important. If you mess this up, Tom, I swear I'll—
"Erm… Hello," he said. Someone coughed and another cleared his throat, but no one said anything. He continued. "I'm Tom Fletcher and I've just moved here from Harrow." Still no one said anything. He felt extremely awkward standing in front of everybody, their eyes melting his very skin off. Suddenly his face grew hot, a bead of sweat sliding down his cheek. He had always hated being the center of attention because he was always afraid of people pointing out his flaws, and by the look of some of the students who were hiding their mouths behind their hands as they sniggered, they already have. Tom gave a curt little nod and excused himself to the empty seat next to Danny, who was smiling as wide as he possibly could.
"Nice job, mate," Tom heard him whisper, which uplifted his feelings a little. A few moments later, Madame LaCroix announced that they were having a surprise test, much to the dismay of the students. As she passed the sheets of paper out one by one, Tom heard the flutter of paper and looked down at his desk, on which a folded piece of paper lay. He looked up to see where Madame LaCroix was (she had just passed a paper to Danny and was walking back to the front), opened it, and read:
That was amazing, how you presented yourself. Any other person would have fainted on the spot.
Tom turned to Danny (whose full attention was on the test paper), turned back to the paper, pulled out a pen from his bag, and wrote back.
I thought I was going to. I could've sworn some of the lot sniggered behind their hands.
He folded it up, looked in Madame LaCroix's direction, extended a hand, and dropped the note on Danny's desk. Danny finished writing something before he picked it up, and when he did he flashed a smile at Tom.
Ah, don't mind them. They're just stuck-up, heartless little bitches. I've had my fair share of sniggers from them whenever I answer Madame's questions.
Well, I'm glad I wasn't the only one then.
Hey, what are you doing after school? I thought maybe we could hang out or something like that.
I'd love to. You can show me around the neighborhood while we're at it.
Cool. See you after school. I'll meet you in the entrance. I think you know where—
Madame LaCroix's shadow fell over Tom's desk and eventually over Tom himself, and the note he had in his hand was swiped clean off. She shook her head in disappointment.
"Since you are new to ze class, I will let you off with a warning. No notes in class," she told Tom, crumpling the note, and made to throw it away. Tom could see that some of his classmates were turned around to see the spectacle; some had their backs turned on him, but, as Tom concluded when he saw their shoulders shake up and down, they were no doubt laughing. He turned to Danny, who mouthed bitches with a smile, slipped his hand into his bag, pulled out The Catcher in the Rye, and read for the remainder of the class.
When he flipped the book to page thirty, a bell rang, and in no time everyone shot up from their seats, pile their papers on Madame LaCroix's desk, and storm out of the room talking to one another. Tom and Danny were the last ones left, and Tom waited for his new friend to place his test paper at the top of the pile. Then they left and set off to their own classes.
His other classes weren't as interesting as his first, but everyone seemed friendlier and warmer to him. In a short time he accumulated a few friends. As his last class came to a close, he waved goodbye to Carla, one of his new friends, and set off to the double doors leading to the outside. Just like he said on the note, Danny was waiting at the entrance fiddling with his hair. He looked up and smiled when he saw Tom.
"Shall we?" said Danny as he opened one of the doors. Tom nodded and they both walked off into the warm sunshine.
