With a sense of pride, Alfred stepped out of his newly refurbished 1969 Mustang, the car he had worked all summer for. A nostalgic feeling washed over him as he started making his way through the parking lot, towards the large brick building that was James K. Polk High School. It was the last first day of high school, and Alfred felt the strangest sensation surge through him. He remembered stepping onto the campus as a little freshman, a bit nervous but overly excited. Now it was four years later. Alfred felt like he had been here forever. Strange that this was the beginning of the end.
Once a scrawny kid, donning thin wire glasses and scruffy hair, Alfred had shot up about a foot and gained a considerable amount of muscle mass. He now strode across the front lawn quite confidently, waving at various acquaintances. He still wore the glasses and his hair was still quite ruffled, but they only contributed to his charming character. Several girls appeared to swoon as he made his way to the concrete entrance.
"YEEEEEEEEAAHHHH, THE HERO'S BACK!" A roughly accented voice shouted for all of campus to hear. Alfred was suddenly jerked into a headlock, and took a noogie to the skull.
"Alfred F. BRO-NES!" Another voice with a different, but still harsh accent contributed to the obnoxious chanting.
"Whoa whoa whoa guys, take it easy," Alfred said, breaking free of the ambusher. He straightened his glasses and ran a hand through his sandy hair. "No concussions this season okay?"
"You got it captain," the first ambusher said with a big grin and a cheesy thumbs up. It was Gilbert Beilschmidt, his German (though he insisted it was "Prussian") teammate.
"This year, we're going to state!" Mathias Kohler, the Danish exchange student bellowed.
"STATE! STATE! STATE! STATE!" The teammates chanted, whooping and high-fiving.
"From the sound of the satanic chanting it looks like there's a new bro cult on campus," a snarky voice commented. It was Elizaveta making a comment to a shy looking freshman girl, but she obviously intended for the boys to hear it.
"Why good morning, Lizzie," Gilbert greeted, oozing of fake charm. "Nope, it's not new, just the same old cult from last year."
"Ugh, jocks," she muttered. "Come on Lili, I'll introduce you to Roderich." The girls left in a cloud of perfume.
"Oooooooh, Roderich," Gilbert mocked. He kicked a stray pebble.
"I thought she finally went on a date with you this summer," Mathias questioned.
"Pssh, bullshit," Gilbert muttered. "I'm pretty sure that was some attempt to make that piano-playing pansy jealous. I'm over it."
"Sucks man," Alfred offered. He wasn't too great with sympathy or advice. "Well I'm gonna go find Matt. See you guys at practice."
"See ya," Mathias said.
"I need a snack," Gilbert said bitterly. The two turned to the nearby vending machine. Alfred had almost reached the door to the main building when a shout caught his attention.
"WHY DOESN'T SHE LOVE MEEEE?" Gilbert bellowed, kneeling on the concrete, slamming his fists against the machine. It appeared that his package of Doritos had gotten stuck in the machine.
Alfred smiled as he walked into AP Calculus, such a familiar place. "Whaddup, Mr. Mascritolo?"
Mr. Mascritolo, a stocky, lethargic middle-aged man seemed quite distraught to have the overly energetic star in his class, yet again.
"Hey it's Alfred!"
"The Hero! Where've ya been all summer!?"
"We missed you!"
"Eh not much," Alfred answered the small group of his peers. "Finally saved enough for a car."
The group went ballistic.
"Dude what car?"
"Oh my God, can we ride in it at lunch?"
"No Alfred, take me!"
"Can I please drive it?"
"1969 Mustang," Alfred answered. "And sure, but we'll have to go in turns. But driving it's gonna be off limits."
Some of the guys then turned to the topic of football, which Alfred excitedly rambled on about; how excited he was just to go to practice, how they were gonna crush every team they faced, how he hoped to get a scholarship. The girls kind of just swooned in the background.
Finally Alfred made his escape and found his best friend among the crowd. Matthew Williams had already taken their usual seats in the far right row next to the window.
"Matt, my man," Alfred said, going in for a fist bump. A series of taps and various high-fives ensued: their secret handshake.
"Its so familiar," Matthew commented, glancing around the room.
It was the usual post-summer scene. Girls greeted the friends they hadn't seen since June with squeals and hugs. Summer stories flew through the air on tasteless but normal topics: "So I went to this party and man I got so wasted . . . " and "Yeah, you could say I banged her . . ." Some of the less "social" kids holed up in their own corner playing on the latest Nintendo DS and trading Pokemon cards. Below the chatter, the sounds of paper shuffling and frantic scribbling could be heard from both the nerds who wanted to perfect their summer homework and the slackers who need to finish – or start their summer homework.
By now Alfred knew all the faces. Funny, that just four years ago he barely knew any of them. Not even Matt. Now he considered many of them his friends, or at least his acquaintances. Until he saw –
"Wait, Matt who's that?" Alfred asked puzzled, pointing a finger.
On the other side of the room sat a rather attractive blonde guy reading a book and acting quite uninterested in the busy scene around him. He stuck out a bit, due to his overly nice attire. Button-down shirt, khaki pants, and a sweater vest – in this heat? Alfred was wearing a neat button-down himself with new jeans; it was basically a first day of school code. Everyone looked nice today, but they didn't look quite as dressed up as the mysterious newbie. Alfred also noticed an earring glinting in the guy's ear.
"Strange dude," Alfred commented, a bit puzzled.
"Whoaaa his eyebrows," Matt commented. Alfred chuckled a bit upon noticing what he was talking about. Not in a mean way really. It was just a little amusing.
The ringing of the bell distracted his thoughts. The few stragglers rushed into the room and scanned it quickly for a seat. Mr. Mascritolo slowly stood up from his desk as if it was the most difficult task in the world.
"Alright, welcome to AP Calculus," he announced dully.
"MR. M & M, ALRIIIIGHT!" Mathias shouted from the back of the room. He and Gilbert lead a class-wide applause.
"You're just too kind," said the disgruntled educator. "Well congrats on all making it to your senior year. We've lost so many along the way, students who couldn't keep up with the rigor of Algebra II or Geometry or Pre-calculus. Ya'll made it."
Alfred zoned out after a bit. They had really made it. Here he and his classmates were, sitting in a senior class in the seats where many seniors had sat before them. His eyes somehow drifted back to the mysterious blonde guy. What was he doing here? Why would someone transfer senior year? He couldn't imagine spending it without his friends at Polk. Wasn't senior year supposed to be the last shabang? The final days of being a kid and screwing around with your friends?
Suddenly he felt someone shoving his shoulder. "Attendance man," Matthew said.
"Jones, Alfred?" Mr. Mascritolo called for the third time.
"YEAH AL!" yelled Gilbert. Everyone else in the room either clapped or giggled. Alfred flashed a smile, though slightly embarrassed.
"Alright chill out," Mr. Mascritolo said sternly. "Kirkland, Arthur?" He continued.
The room was silent except for a few last giggles. After an awkward pause, Mr. Mascritolo noticed the hand that was raised in the air.
It belonged to the blond guy. Hmm. Arthur Kirkland.
"New exchange student from England?" Mr. Mascritolo asked, not looking up from the roster.
"Yes," Arthur replied, his accent confirming that he was in fact, from England.
Every head seemingly turned in unison to stare at the new foreigner. Many of the girls didn't even try to contain their excitement.
"Oh my god, so you have, like, an accent?"
"Did you live in London? Wait, have you ever met the queen?"
"Do you really like tea that much I mean what's so great about it?"
"Do you watch Doctor Who? Because it's literally my favorite."
"What sum auf m' crispsh?" Gilbert asked, in an attempt to be culturally aware. His mouth was full of Doritos and his fingers were bright orange.
Arthur, unlike Alfred was definitely not as excited to be the center of attention. Lucky for him, the deafing sound of feedback crackled through the PA system.
"At this time all students and staff should make their way to the welcome ceremony in the gym . . . At this time all students and staff should make their way to the welcome ceremony in the gym."
Ah the welcome ceremony. Alfred didn't get why they didn't just call it a pep rally. Pushing among the throngs of people filing into the doors, Alfred finally caught a glimpse into the gym. The cheerleaders danced while the drumline played a cadence, enhanced with fancy stick tricks. The marching band came in playing the school fight song, and then a Lady Gaga medley. The wall was adorned with giant posters that screamed "Welcome back!" and dozens of red and navy balloons. This was the assembly where everyone got to see what was in store for the next year. It was a time where the whole school really came together.
"Aren't you announcing about the football team?" Matt asked Alfred as the pushed through the crowd, searching for seats in the bleachers.
"Yup, I get to do that." The two finally caught up with Gilbert and Mathias, who had found the rest of the football team.
Finally, once all the students had settled into the bleachers, Principal Evans walked into the middle of the gym. He was a short, balding man with a bushy mustache and a bit of a hunchback. A great peel of feedback echoed through the room, finally causing the students to simmer down.
"Hello, and welcome back to James K. Polk High School. To our new students, welcome. We hope your school days will be filled with education, virtue, and happiness."
"PENIS!" Someone called out from the crowd. The entire student body burst into laughter.
"Attention- ATTENTION!" Mr. Evans shouted. He gave up and simply tapped the mic until another peel of feedback sounded.
"Moving on from that little interruption, I'm going to hand this party over to your ASB president, Elizaveta Hedervay."
"Good ole' Evans," Alfred said, clapping.
"Wow Elizaveta. WHO DO YOU THINK HELPED YOU MAKE ALL THOSE ELECTION POSTERS? WHO DO YOU THINK SPREAD THAT RUMOR THAT RODERICH IS SUCH A PRUDE THAT HE SHOWERS IN HIS SWIM TRUNKS?"
"Dammit Gilbert," several team members chorused. Mathias gave him a good punch in the shoulder.
"Hello dear students," Elizaveta said confidently into the mic. "I'm your ASB president Elizaveta Hedervay."
"No shit the hunchback just said that," Gilbert grumbled. He received another punch.
Elizaveta went on to discuss the various activities that would take place that year. Prom at a lavish lakeside lodge! The underclassmen-upperclassmen buddy trip to Six Flags! Free pizza Friday for people who received above a 3.0 GPA!
At last she was finished. She tossed her glossy brown hair and handed the mic back to Evans.
"And next up, Varsity Football Captain, Alfred Jones," he announced. The gym exploded into cheers. Even the band kids, the mathletes, and the stoners, people who weren't supposed to care about sports, cheered for Alfred.
"Alright, hey Polk!" Alfred began.
"ALFRED I LOVE YOU!" Someone shouted.
"Oh stop flattering me," he teased. "Well, yeah let me tell you it's gonna be a huge season this year. We've trained all August and let me tell you these guys have got a strong spirit, am I right?" The football team promptly broke into shouts while stomping their feet on the bleachers.
"I bet you can see why I believe in these guys. I just know they're gonna bring home the STATE CHAMPIONSHIP!" That caused a massive outbreak of cheering and school spirit.
"So I hope I see you all at our first game Friday night. I mean come on even if the game not your thing, cheer's gonna be there, band's gonna be there, and we sell some bomb-ass snacks at the concessions stand so hey just come out and enjoy being an eagle. See you there!"
"ALFRED! ALFRED! ALFRED! ALFRED!"
The chant went on for three minutes before Mr. Evans could grab everyone's attention again.
"Alright, that's enough kids. Thank you Mr. Jones. Though I am not pleased with some of your language." "Kids and their hip slang nowadays," he muttered quietly, though it was still projected through the mic.
"Our last order of business is to introduce our new foreign exchange students!"
"Oh yeah," Alfred remembered.
"As many of you know, Polk prides itself in having a very strong cultural exchange program. We have students studying here from Germany, Japan, Hungary, Spain, Italy, and more. In turn, our American students have the option to study away from home as well. We trust that all of our Polk eagles will take these students under their wing – excuse me." Evans had to stop to chuckle at his own joke. "Anyway, I expect all of our students to look out for one another, regardless of where they come from."
"And now our new exchange students will come introduce themselves with their name, grade, the country they are visiting from, and a fact about him or herself."
First up was Lili, the girl who Elizaveta had been escorting earlier. She was in 9th grade, from Liechtenstein, and enjoyed sewing. "Pajamas particularly," she added softly. Her brother Vash was next. He was in 11th grade, from Switzerland, and his dream was to be on Extreme Couponing on TLC. Though Alfred was usually interested in finding out who the new kids in school were, this time he was really only waiting for one. A guy from Estonia, one from Korea, a girl from Vietnam. Alfred had zoned out when suddenly, a voice came through the microphone that shook him out of his daze."
"My name is Arthur Kirkland, grade 12, from England, and well I like –" he hesitated. "I like music I guess."
"Interesting," Alfred said.
"Huh?" Matthew asked.
"I dunno, I guess I didn't expect that," Alfred said, slightly intrigued.
"It's not that revealing," Matt pointed out. "Who doesn't like music? Why are you so interested anyway?"
Well that was a good question. Why did he care?
"Hey, Alfred," a group of underclassmen girls called to him. They then broke down into a fit of giggles.
"So Alfred, when should we be at practice this afternoon?"
"Hey let's get pizza or something afterwards."
"We will kick some ASS this year!"
Suddenly it hit him. Alfred was always busy. There were always things to do and people to meet and see and talk to. He had friends to go to for help or to just screw around with. He had comforting memories of this place, with these people. That Arthur guy didn't have any of it. And though he had tried to block the memories from his mind, Alfred knew how he felt.
"Well this guy's obviously alone," Alfred pointed out. "You know I don't like to see people being sad here. Not when there's so much fun stuff to do."
"You like this place a little too much," Matthew said.
"Okay I know it's super cheesy, but you can't deny that you haven't enjoyed it here."
"Okay, yeah," Matthew admitted. "And now there's only a year left."
Alfred thought. "Well a lot happens in a year. There may not be much time left, but I swear I'm gonna make it the best year of Arthur Kirkland's life.
