Adapting, Adjusting, and Avoiding||Chapter 1- A New School

Disclaimer: I don't own RotG, only my OCs and the plot (which hopefully isn't stupid)

A Quick Note: Pay attention to the time and date later, they're VERY important. Not so much now, more in future chapters (starts in ch3 or so) because they show major time-skips. Enjoy!

September 10th, 6:57am

Jack stepped out of his front door, almost nervously. He waved backwards over his shoulder at the family members standing in the doorway behind him that were all smiling encouragingly. "Goodbye Jack, have a great first day at school!" a petite woman in bright clothing called after him, wiping her hands on her apron.

"Thanks Aunt Tooth! See you later!"

His little brother Sandy pushed his way through the legs of his family members and took Jack's hand, yawning and blinking sleepily. He was mute, and he had narcolepsy, so he used sign language and always carried around a little golden dolphin pillow pet. He was small, about two and a half feet tall, and he had golden yellow hair that stuck up in messy spikes all over from constant bed-head. He wore a yellow onesie with little feet on it, and it had a few gold sparkling threads in it resembling sand.

His older brother, Ezekiel Aster, refused to tell anyone his first name, going by E. Aster at his job, and his friends and family called him Easter as a joke. When he was young, he had had a fascination with Easter and the Easter Bunny, and he had thought it was funny. Now that he was in his mid-twenties, he didn't think it was so cute anymore. He had dull brown hair and large front teeth and ears, making him look slightly geeky, but they didn't hinder him nor help him. They simply were. He was very tall, six feet high, and looked like he was looking down at everyone; the reality was that he had a very stiff neck and avoided bending it to extremes, so he simply looked down with his eyes at people, being taller than most. It was not meant to be insulting.

He was a businessman, very organized and neat, and he was a great and inspiring leader, giving the best pep talks and direction any company could ever ask for. In his spare time, he painted, and although he insisted he had given up on childish beliefs, he still remained firm on the subject of painting the Easter eggs by hand, and he secretly hunted for the Easter Bunny, every year, without fail.

He walked out of the door with Jack and Sandy, briefcase in hand. He had spent some time away from home due to work, and had developed a prominent Australian accent, always choosing to go there on business trips when offered the opportunity.

He ruffled Sandy's hair and messed up Jack's too. Jack scowled at him and started combing his hair with his free hand, knowing all too well what happened if he let go of Sandy's hand. Sandy didn't even notice, and he probably wouldn't have cared if he did; it appeared he had fallen asleep standing again. Jack heaved a sigh and picked him up, making sure his pillow pet was in his backpack and his backpack was buckled across his chest. It had fallen off in the past when it wasn't buckled. Sandy wrapped an arm around Jack's neck and started sucking his thumb. Jack rolled his eyes but smiled. "Ah, Sandy."

"See you after school, mate. Don't get in any trouble today, you hear?"

The smile dropped off Jack's face. "Yeah, yeah, Easter. You know I won't."

It had been a one-time thing. Jack was usually a troublemaker, a jokester that rarely got in trouble, but last year he had pushed it too far by swapping the teacher's chalk with her Chapstick, so she wrote on the board with Vaseline and coated her lips in the dusty white powder. That, combined with dying her spare wig hot pink and making sure her original one got ruined, plus every other minor thing he had done over the three years he'd been going to the high school, pushed her over the edge. She had screamed, snapped her yardstick over her knee, and shrieked at him to go to the principal's office. She had followed him through the halls, screaming at him some nasty things that should not be repeated, until he got to the office, where he had been informed he would not be welcome back next year.

Jack started walking down the sidewalk, Sandy in tow, and Aster went the opposite way.

September 10th, 6:57am

Nicholas, Jack's grandfather, watched him go from the window, lines of concern etched into his kind face. He was a rather large man, seven feet tall and kind of overweight, but he was also built like a long-retired bodybuilder. He had grown up in Russia and still went back to visit every now and then; his accent was so strong, nobody could understand him when he was agitated, and he would slip into Russian when he got furious. He had tattoos on his forearms, but he kept them covered with his shirtsleeves at all times, so no one knew what they were. He claimed they were a stupid mistake from when he was younger, for a Halloween costume, and he had decided he would leave them as a reminder of his stupidity once the novelty wore off. He had a long white beard, and when the children were younger, he had been the one to dress up as Santa Claus, knowing they were peeking. Or rather, knowing Jack was peeking; his brothers only tried to stay up to see Santa when he convinced them to.

Nicholas sighed heavily. "I hope that boy knows what he is getting into."

Jack's aunt, Tooth, had an unusual but apt name. Her full name was Toothiana, a pretty but uncommon choice on her parents' part. No one knew how she was related to them, she just was.

She was a dentist, the best in her field. People were recommended her when they dearly needed help outside of their dentist's skill range. She was deft and swift, and even children enjoyed coming to her; every time she did dental work on them or simply checked over their teeth, she would give them a quarter and a small stuffed toy. Tooth also had lower prices than other dentists, despite being the best. She simply didn't need as much training and nurses as some, preferring to work with only a few nurses she loved like family.

She had tanned skin and shoulder-length brown hair that she had dyed, streaks of turquoise and green and magenta running through chocolate, the same colors as her scrubs and a large amount of her clothes. She was kind and had a sweet, high voice, soothing to all. It was a mystery that she hadn't found a husband, or even a boyfriend, but she said she preferred being single and she was already a mother to 'the boys', as she affectionately called them. She was also talented in baking, and the boys were often welcomed home by a floury pat on the cheek and a cookie shoved in their mouths. Her age was unknown to them, the way she liked it.

Jack's mother had simply disappeared after Sandy's birth five years ago, and everyone's memories of her were almost nonexistent, except that she had beautiful brown hair and a sweet face. It was a mystery as to why she would leave, and Jack held quite a bit of bottled-up anger and resentment towards her for leaving them like that.

Jack's father had been the nicest soul one could meet, and he had passed peacefully in his sleep right after Sandy was born, having narcolepsy as well. He was found at his desk at home, unconscious, and he was rushed to the hospital, where he had remained in a comatose state until he just... stopped. He had silver hair, despite being a young man, and he had smile lines around his mouth and at the corners of his eyes. He was tall as well, explaining why Jack was 5'11". Jack had also inherited his odd hair color from him, having white hair. Once in a while, a blonde or brown streak would crop up, and he would viciously bleach it white. Jack's height and physical appearance felt like the only reminder he had left of his father.

The whole family had moved to Burgess, Pennsylvania, since Jack had been expelled from the small school. No one was greatly affected, but Jack was devastated. His father's ashes hung from a chain around his neck, in a tiny bottle. Most had been scattered to the wind, but everyone kept a small bit in a tiny crystal vial.

September 10th, 7:01am

Alaska was where Jack had lived previously, and the warm weather in Burgess, somewhere between summer and autumn, was already making him sweat. He had all his school books in his black backpack, and they were heavy, making it worse. Caught up in his thoughts of how hot it was outside, he almost walked right past the kindergarten center. He walked backwards a few steps and went in the doors, still carrying Sandy.

He asked the woman at the front desk where the office was, and thanked her after he had received directions. He walked down the hallway, counting off doors. One, two, three, fourth from the end on the left, he repeated her directions in his head as he walked past still-empty classrooms. He was early, so he could talk to an administrator and Sandy's teachers about his... special needs. Sandy was still sleeping, clinging to Jack tightly. For a kindergartener, he had a killer grip on Jack's shirt. He knocked lightly on the door that had a large plaque reading OFFICE on it before pushing it open.

"Hello, welcome to the kindergarten center, how may I help you?" a teenage girl asked politely from behind the desk, standing to greet him.

"Oh, um-" he was distracted by her age. "I'm here to take my brother to school. But he has special needs, and I just wanted to double check, meet with his teachers. Accidents have happened in the past." Like that time Sandy had slept through a lockdown drill. And a test. And almost a fire drill. And getting on the bus home. And almost crossing the street.

She laughed, catching on to his uncertainty. "I look too young to be working here, I know. I volunteer before school starts, in the mornings and during my free periods. I'm the only administrator here right now. If you want, in about ten minutes the principal-"

"No, it's fine." He really was in no rush to talk to another principal any time soon.

"Sit down over here." She gestured to a low round table with a few chairs around it. They both sat in the tiny chairs and squeezed their knees under the table, Jack especially. The girl was about 5'4", he estimated. She didn't have to try as hard to fit.

She laughed at how uncomfortable he looked. "Sorry about that, I don't know why the teachers still keep this, somehow they use it all the time. But they are all shorter than me, so maybe it makes sense to them."

He shook his head. "I'm so confused. It's like taking trigonometry all over again." He grinned and she smiled back, completely at ease.

"So, let me fill out this form. I'm assuming that's your little brother?" At a nod, she continued. "What's his name? Full."

"Um, my family doesn't go by our last name. We all gave ourselves different ones. But this is Sanderson Mansnoozie. Don't ask me, he picked it out."

"Okay. Age? I'm assuming five or so..."

"Yep."

"Any medical conditions? Probably not-"

"Actually, yes."

She looked up in surprise. "Really?"

It irritated him, that she would comment about it, and he spoke through gritted teeth. "Yes. Really." He calmed down a bit before he continued. "He has narcolepsy. My family has a history of it." He got a little choked up, thinking of his dad, but he cleared his throat. "He falls asleep often, and he tends to sleepwalk. He has his pillow pet in case he falls asleep at his desk, his backpack has to be strapped on with the clips-" he pried Sandy's hand free and shows her the latch across his chest, keeping the straps from falling off, "-or else it'll slide off, someone has to be holding his hand or he'll wander away, don't let him suck his thumb-" he pulled Sandy's hand away from his mouth, "-and be careful when you wake him up. He has lashed out at people before he woke up completely. It's better just to let him wake up on his own. It usually doesn't last this long, only a minute or two." Without realizing it, he was bouncing Sandy up and down gently and rubbing his back. Sandy's eyes fluttered open, then shut, then open again. He yawned massively, making Jack yawn too, in turn making the girl yawn. Sandy turned his head slowly, taking in his surroundings, then brought his hands up to his chest and his fingers fluttered, faster than the girl could see, but Jack understood perfectly. "Yeah Sandy, I'm explaining everything. I haven't gotten that far yet. Do you want to explain?" His fingers twisted out of habit, spelling the words as he spoke. Sandy nodded, his fingers twisting and intertwining and moving with incredible fluidity. Jack translated the sign language for the girl, Sandy's exact words. "Hi, I'm Sandy. I have narcolepsy, and I can't talk. I speak using sign language, but I can hear perfectly fine."

Jack explained further. "He can talk more complexly than other kids his age, since he has to use his hands. He can read, and write. As long as he has a white board, he can communicate with people who can't speak sign language. Actually, his board is in his backpack, along with his favorite markers. Do not let anyone take one, or even borrow it. He will take the markers back forcefully. It happened." He didn't say that Sandy was overly protective of his markers because their dad left them to him before he died. That would be revealing too much. He couldn't reopen that wound, especially not to a stranger. He also didn't mention that the teacher who borrowed the marker ended up with a fractured wrist and had to be sent to the hospital.

"Okay, I think I got all of that. I-" The door swung open. "Oh, hi Mrs. Carmichael!"

Jack felt his jaw lock. She was so similar to his last principal. He managed a smile and waved. "Hi."

Mrs. Carmichael smiled back warmly, making him feel better about leaving Sandy with her. "Hello. What's your name?"

The girl looked like someone hit her between the eyes and looked down at the table, tracing words with her fingertip on the plastic imitation-wood surface.

"Cassie, you didn't even think to ask him his name?"

She shook her head.

Jack loosened up a bit. "I'm Jack. I'm here to check with my little brother Sandy's teacher and make sure the school had the correct information."

"Okay. I'm a kindergarten teacher here. Do you know who he has?"

"Um, let me check." He dug through Sandy's bag and found the paper with all the information he needed. "He has you."

She clapped her hands together and dropped her bag in the floor, sitting in a small chair with them. "Great! What do I need to know?" With her eyes, she conveyed her true message. It was rude, but he perceived it as truly curious. Medical condition? Special ed?

"Narcolepsy, and he can't talk. I told... Cassie? Some important things about him."

"Can I hear it from you?" So I don't miss anything important.

"Sure. He can fall asleep-" he paused mid-sentence. He looked down at Sandy, who was tugging on his sleeve. "You want to explain?" Sandy nodded. Jack turned back to the teacher. "Can you read sign language?"

Mrs. Carmichael nodded. "I teach it and lead the club up at the high school." Jack was liking her more and more.

"Okay. Sandy, don't go as fast."

The little boy nodded and his hands moved slightly slower than before, as Jack held him on his lap. Mid-word, his hands went limp and he slumped back against Jack. The women jumped, a little alarmed, but Jack shook Sandy's shoulder, then blew in his ear as a last resort. Sandy started and almost hit Jack. "You fell asleep."

Sandy nodded and continued, both the teacher and Cassie taking notes.

Jack leaned back and looked at them. Mrs. Carmichael seemed nice enough, with red heels and a white blouse tucked into her black pencil skirt. She had her hair pulled back, but she looked nice. Also formal, but Sandy did well with formality.

Cassie was wearing all gray. Gray jeans, gray sweatshirt, gray shirt sticking out of the bottom of her sweatshirt, gray boots. She even had a gray headband pushing her hair back.

"Is that all?" The sound of a voice caught his attention.

He nodded, confident in Sandy. "You told them about the markers?" Sandy nodded. "Then that's everything. Thank you so much. What time does school end?"

"Two thirty."

"I'll be here to pick him up. Do I wait in the lobby, or..." he stopped, waiting for one of them to finish for him or say something else.

"The lobby is where most people wait."

"I'll be there. Sandy, you know my phone number?" Sandy nodded and signed it out. "Perfect. What time does it start?"

"You're signed up for the all-day, meaning it starts at eight o'clock, but we have a drop off center for teenagers who have to go to school."

"Thank you. Can I leave him here? I need to get going. I only have-" he checked his watch. "Ten minutes to get there."

Cassie panicked, setting down the little pad with Sandy's info and grabbing her bookbag, checking the time on her phone. "Oh my god you're right! I'm going to have to run!" She grabbed his wrist and pulled him from the chair as he set Sandy down.

"Sandy, beHAVE!" he yelled as Cassie pulled him out the office door.

Mrs. Carmichael smiled kindly and took Sandy's hand. "Come on Sandy, lets get you to the morning care program." They walked out of the office and down the hall, Sandy actually making it all the way without falling asleep.

September 10th, 7:19am

"Slow down!" Jack yelled, stumbling along behind Cassie.

"We're going to be late!"

He took a deep breath of air and started sprinting, Cassie still holding his wrist. Soon he was the one dragging her, and they got to school with five minutes to spare. They huffed a bit, and most kids were milling around outside the building or clogging up the hallways. Jack saw a sign that said OFFICE and went up to the door, waving to Cassie as he walked in.

It was instantly silent and air-conditioned inside, and he felt much better. He walked up to the secretary, conscious of every squeak his old sneakers made against the tile floor. "Hi. I'm a new student, can you get my schedule for me?" He felt the urge to whisper instead of talking in a normal voice.

"Sure. Grade?" Her voice was nasally and annoying, and she sounded completely bored.

"Twelfth. Senior."

"First letter of your last name?"

"F." He twisted his fingers, signing his name over and over again with anxiety.

"Ah, Jack. Here you go. And a map of the school." She tapped on her keyboard and clicked on something on the screen he couldn't see from his vantage point.

The printer started up, the loud noise startling him. It spit out a few papers and she handed them to him."Here. Use the map to get to first period."

"Thank you." He looked at the map and his schedule. First period was in room 119, just down the hall. As his eyes wandered down the list and back and forth at the map, he realized every class was in a different room with a different teacher, unlike his old school, which housed every grade from kindergarten to twelfth, there was one or two teachers per grade depending on the number of kids in the group, and you stayed with that teacher from kindergarten to third grade, a different teacher for fourth grade, fifth grade to eighth another teacher, and ninth to twelfth with yet another teacher.

Jack liked this system better. You didn't have to put up with the same crabby old people all day, every day. You had to put up with different crabby old people for short periods of time, and some only every other day.

He walked down the hall, looking for his locker and not paying much attention to anything else. It was 119-16, combo 49-10-45. "One nineteen dash sixteen, one nineteen dash sixteen," he muttered as he headed towards the locker. He spotted it from down the hall and sped over to it, ignoring the giggles and whispers. Some football jock was probably coming down the hallway.

He kept his head down as he walked, looking at his feet, schedule, locker, and back. He went over to the tall blue door and spun the dial to the right until he came to 49, spun left and past 49 and stopped at 10, then spun right and stopped at 45. 49-10-45. He would have to remember that.

He loaded in all his textbooks and kept one notebook, a pen, and a folder in his backpack, along with his schedule and lunch. He zipped his backpack closed and put one headphone in his ear, leaning against the wall until the bell rang, a loud, annoying, artificial noise, unlike the bell back home- no, back in Alaska. This was home now. In Alaska, it had been a real old-fashioned school bell that someone hit with a tiny brass hammer and put directly into the cracking, barely functioning loudspeaker system. He shoved his headphone back in the pocket with the old, battered, silver iPod nano from 2006. His family couldn't afford anything newer, and they all shared, each person's music on their own playlist. They made an agreement not to go into each other's personal folders, but Jack was the only one that used it anymore. Aster had lost interest a few years ago and Jack claimed it as his own until he needed to share with Sandy.

He sat down in a desk in the back, the fifth row out of five, against the same wall as the door. The board was on the wall that ran perpendicular to the door, and the door was off center, so you would enter near the front of the class, directly in front of the teacher's desk if you were late. Jack pulled out his notebook and pen, twirling the pen over his fingers absentmindedly, worrying about Sandy.

A huge flock of girls walked in the door at once, before the teacher got to the room, and there were plenty of high-pitched squeals that made him wince. They stampeded towards him, a flurry of makeup and short skirts and hot pink high-heels.

It was terrifying.

He stayed firmly where he was, clicking his pen and starting to sketch in his notebook. Little lines, vague markings to indicate where everything went, it was going along perfectly until the girls all sat down at the same time in the surrounding desks with a simultaneous thud as they dropped their books on the desks and purses onto the floor. The loud noise made him jump, and he dragged the pen across the page, right through the face of his dad. He had been drawing him without realizing. Tears filled his eyes as he stared at the slash mark through his father's face, and they almost fell until he realized he was in school, and he needed his reputation to be a good one, or he could be at the bottom of the chain. And when you're at the bottom, you get eaten.

Jack didn't want to get eaten.

But he didn't want to be a vulture at the top either, one of the popular kids that picked on the bottom. He kinda wanted to be a... maybe a bunny? Or a fox. He wanted to be a snow fox, one of the white ones. Not a wolf or a coyote, but a peaceful fox that protected the bottom creatures, like the mice or grasshoppers, but could fight the big creatures if necessary. But he got the feel that in this school, there weren't a lot of middlemen. You were at the top, or the bottom.

The second bell rang, and he flipped the page, still on his thoughts of the social hierarchy as a food chain, populars at the top with the vultures and losers on the bottom with the mice.

That was about to change. Jack was going to be a middleman, and set an example. He was going to start with not being popular, but not a loser.

Good place to start.

A/N:
Second story! Man, you guys are getting all my 'coming soon' and secret stories that I haven't mentioned on Wattpad yet. Luckyyy. Naw jk, they suck but I want to improve them and Wattpad-ers are getting really demanding, so I'm taking a short break from the site.
I hope to upload a couple more stories, but I have a few where I want to finish before I upload because I'm bad with plot and they're very specific. This, I can deviate from a bit, since I don't have a definite end in mind. I hope you like it! A review would mean the world to me.