Disclaimer: I do not own Kendall Knight, Logan Mitchell, James Diamond, or Carlos Garcia.
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"Feelings are real and legitimate; children behave and misbehave for a reason, even if adults cannot figure it out."
It was one little prank; drenching the girl's field hockey team's field. No big deal, right? Well, to Mrs. Haggerty it was. The middle aged woman sat behind her desk, pinching the bridge of her nose tightly.
"Why must you four make my job so difficult?" She silenced us, holding her palm up as we leaned forward, ready to argue that it was an innocent prank. "That was rhetorical, boys." Sighing, she picked up four manilla envelopes, dropping the edges against her desk, straightening them in her hands. "I've given you chance after chance and you boys have burned right through each and every one of them. You four are no longer welcome to attend Sherwood High School, but don't worry, I've found an alternative school that has already accepted your applications, McKinley Academy."
McKinley Academy? Was she serious? McKinley Academy was a school for misfits, outcasts, which us four are not. Yeah, we may get into a little trouble here and there. But hey, who doesn't? The guys and I heard countless stories about the kids who attended McKinley. Just a few weeks ago some kid got busted making counterfeit bills in their graphics department. We're in high school, who does that? My thoughts were broken as the old wooden door to Mrs. Haggerty's office was opened, revealing a tall man. He was dressed like he worked on Wall Street; his hair matted to his head, well what was left of it anyways.
"Hello boys, I'm Dr. Krueger, dean of students at McKinley Academy." To my left, Logan sat, looking terrified. He was always one to keep us out of trouble, if only he did this time... He was probably lost in his own mind imagining McKinley as some kind of prison where they forced drugs onto you or something. Beside him sat a bored looking Carlos, his leg shook uncontrollably, his shoes tapping against the linoleum tiles as he focused on everything but Dr. Krueger. James looked rather relaxed, his lips set in a straight line with his arms across his chest. "As I'm sure you boys have heard, McKinley is a live-in high school." The man spoke as he took a seat in the leather armchair near the door. "We've already taken the liberty of calling each of your parents and discussing the arrangements with them, to which they have agreed. You boys will have the next week to pack your appropriate belongings."
"Um, excuse me?" I questioned, raising a hand in Mrs. Haggerty's direction. A simple nod was allotted, giving me permission to speak. "I'd rather go to Duluth." Duluth High School was another public high school in the area, also Sherwood's rival school. They had a pretty decent hockey team, so I would put all the bad blood aside and go to school there instead of some posh academy for rich kids who did stupid shit because they were bored with having just about everything they wanted.
"Well Mr. Knight, that was our first alternative, but you see, they rejected your transfer referral." Rejected? Could a public high school even reject someone? Now I wasn't a genius like Logan, but I did alright; maintaining a C+ average in mostly every class. They had no reason to reject me, I was average; not a genius, but not an imbacil either. I was just like everyone else who went to school there.
"Rejected? How can they reject me?"
She scoffed, leaning her head down to look at me over her thick frames. "After taking a look at the record of your misbehavior, who wouldn't reject you Mr. Knight?" There she goes with my behavior again. So what if I started a few hockey games during study hall or stuck lunch meat to the cafeteria ceiling, it was all harmless fun.
"Whatever." I muttered, not bothering to pay any attention to the rest of the meeting.
"Dude, can you believe we get to go to McKinley? The girls there are insanely hot!" James babbled on enthusiastically about how we should be grateful that we had the opportunity to start fresh.
"And insanely slutty." Logan added, pulling his notebooks and binders closer to his chest.
"Good. Maybe you'll get some action there and stop being so uptight." Carlos quipped.
"Like you've ever even gotten any!" Logan sped up, walking a now 15 feet in front of James, Carlos, and I.
All of us, excluding James, were virgins. James had been with almost every girl in the school, where as the rest of us hadn't been further than innocent hooking up. Carlos had gotten a handjob from Baylor Lee back at the Homecoming dance. My ex-girlfriend, Kelli, had been quite generous with blowjobs. She'd invite me to her house nearly every day just to give me one back when we were dating, I guess you could say I was generous too, not with my mouth, but my hands. I was pretty good with those. Logan was the only one who'd never made it past second base, making out and feeling each other up, while clothed. Boring, right?
"Does McKinley have a hockey team?" We'd never had a game with them, but maybe they were in a different division, being an academy and all.
"Nope. They have school teams for rugby, american football, lacrosse, basketball, girls' field hockey, soccer and volleyball. No ice hockey." I groaned. How was I supposed to survive the remainder of my high school years without hockey? Hockey has always been there for me, whether I'm mad, sad, happy, or whatever. It doesn't ask questions or anything like the guys or my mom and Katie. Hockey became my getaway once my dad split, taking my mind of everything else. I was carefree when I was on the ice, the cold air emitted from the ice below was like a warm (ha) embrace. "I'm sure we can still play for Sherwood's public team, you know, the one outside of the school." Logan reassured, folding the academy pamphlet back up and placing it inbetween one of his many notebooks.
I waved goodbye to the guys from my porch steps as they continued the walk to their own homes. Before opening the front door I braced myself. I knew my mom wouldn't take this one easy, she was constantly reminding me to stay out of trouble. Katie will probably just start moving her shit into my room, she'd wanted it ever since we moved in, but since I was the oldest I got the bigger space. In all honesty, I'd miss my baby sister. Yeah, we argued like any normal brother and sister, but no matter what the circumstances, she was on my side and more than ready to concoct some devious plan to get me and the guys out of whatever trouble we'd managed to get ourselves in to. It's too bad I couldn't carry her around in my pocket, she would have come in handy today after the whole drenching the field prank.
"Kendall Donald Knight!" My mother's voice rang through my ears as I kicked the door closed behind me, tossing my backpack to the floor and walking over to the worn out leather couch, plopping down beside Katie. "How many times have I warned you about this behavior? Look where it landed you, in McKinley Academy! Are you proud of yourself Kendall?"
"No mom." I responded, almost robotically. It was always like this when I got in trouble. She'd ask me if I was proud of myself, every. single. time. What is there to be proud of? I don't even understand why she asks that question, it makes no sense. She was a mom, so I guess it was in her nature to be dramatic.
"Katie, go to your room please." After a bit of protesting Katie reluctantly made her ways upstairs to her room. "Do you want to end up like your father? A no good dropout? That's where your headed if you keep on this path." Something inside me snapped, like the strings of my heart were wound too tight, a simple beat splitting them all in two.
"Don't you ever compare me to that asshole!" She jumped as I flipped the wooden coffee table before me, storming outside and slamming the front door on my way out. I didn't have an exact destination in mind, but ended up at the park down the street. Hyde Park had been the place to be back in the day. It's where the guys and I met Logan in third grade.
"Carlos just give me the helmet so I can play goalie!" I demaned, tugging on one of the buckles, Carlos tugging back on the other.
"No way, it's my helmet!" Suddenly, Carlos' end of the buckle slid from his hands and propelled backwards, hitting a small raven haired boy seated at one of the various picnik tables. Papers flew around as the helmet launched the boy into the tabletop. Picking up a few sheets I realized I had the same ones back at my house. Carlos and James were at my side now as we watched the boy pick up his papers, snatching the few from my hands and neatly place them back together, picking up his pencil and writing furiously on the pages, ignoring our presence.
"You're doing homework, at the park...?" Carlos questioned, leaning over the boy's shoulder.
"What's it to you?" He spoke, his eyes never leaving the paper.
"Logan." The boy looked up, recognizing his name leaving my lips. Logan Mitchell, that's who the boy was. He had just moved to Sherwood with his parents from Texas or something. He'd only been in our class for a week or so. His parents were some big shot doctors, taking the place of Dr. Greensboro at Memorial Medical after his passing.
"Hey, ya wanna do my homework for me?" James questioned, sitting beside Logan on the bench, Carlos and I following suit.
"Why would I do that?"
"We'll be your friends..."
And that's how it all started. Yeah, we were using Logan for his brain at first, but come to find out, for a genius he was pretty fun and outgoing, shy toward anyone but us three though.
I was one of the only two people in the park, probably due to the fact that it was winter and no kid wanted to play in the 30 degree weather, the other body sat motionless on a bench at the edge of the pond, the only thing signalling that they were alive being the fog in the air from their breathing. The figure appeared to be a girl as I stepped closer to the pond's perimeter. Dark chocolate tresses fell in waves below a teal beanie, spilling over the back of the green bench. I sat on the far edge of the same bench, surveying the girl at the opposite end. Her skin was an olive tone, contrasting against the maroon lipstick that stained her lips, her long eyelashes poked at her eyebrows as she opened them from blinking. She wore a black pea coat with denim skinny jeans, gray vans adorning her feet and a gray scarf wrapped loosely around her neck, falling to around her midsection. Chocolate brown eyes fell upon me as she turned in my direction.
"It's weird seeing you here without your posse." Posse? The guys were hardly my posse. Wait, how did she even know about the guys? I'd never seen her around school before, let alone here at the park, although I might've been to busy in a heated game of hockey with the guys to notice her if she had been here one time or another. A sly grin spread across her lips as I asked for her name. "Lacey." Nope, she definitely didn't go to my school. I wracked my brain trying to think where I could have seen her before, but nothing came up.
"Have we uh, met before?"
"Not formally." She stuck out a bare hand toward me, I accepted the handshake before placing my hand back into the depths of my coat pocket. "I'm Lacey Withers, I've seen you and your friends around here and the practice fields over by the market. You and your friends play hockey real well." Her voice held the twinge of an accent, maybe southern? "Does that make me sound like a creep? I only watch you and your friends play hockey." She chuckled, returning her attention to the frozen slab of ice that covered the pond.
"Not at all. I'm Kendall Knight by the way. Just wondering, do you go to Sherwood, I don't think I've seen you around..." I ventured off, noticing the small frozen flurries that slowly fell around us now.
A pool of fog gathered around her mouth as she sighed heavily. "Naw. I go to McKinley Academy." Once again she turned to me, a mischeivous grin on her lips.
"You don't seem like one for misbehaving." I watched as she rose to her feet, smoothing out her coat with her hands and pushing her scarf up under her chin.
"Never judge a book by it's cover, Knight." And with that, she stalked off, leaving me to stare inquisitvely at her retreating figure.