Ah! The first day of school. You can just hear the minds of children shriveling away and crumbling to dust. Not that many of the students at St. Jacobe have brains. This school is full of jocks, because St. J is a sports orientated school. It is called St. Jacobe Academy of Athletics.

This would be my last year at St. J, and it's a little depressing, being here 5 years already (St. J goes from 6-12), I had gotten to know all the teachers, all my classmates, so I was looking at one seriously boring year.

The principal, Mr. Samen, comes on over the public announcement system, signaling the mass of grade 12's to enter the auditorium for opening ceremonies. I take my time getting there not caring where I sit. I may know everyone in my year, but none of them are what I'd really call 'friends'. All of my friends are in the younger years. The 12th graders, (except for maybe one or two of 'em) are all stuck-up snobs who brag about how much money their parents have. It makes me sick.

The auditorium itself is about half the size of a football field, with the stage taking up enough room for 1 large classroom and one small classroom, for our musical theater class. St. J may be centered around sports, but our m.t. class is one of the best in America.

Once I got to my seat, (front row, dead center) Mr. Samen, a tall, tan man with long grey hair, walked up to the podium to address the student body.

"Hello children, and welcome back to another exiting year of schooling at St. Jacobe's. To those of you who are new, my name is Mr. Samen, not to be mistaken for Mr. Seaman, he cleans our toilets," and he laughs at his own joke. He's made that same joke for as long as I can remember. It got old after the first two years.

"As most of you are well aware, Ms. Ranele, our beloved Social Studies and Musical Theater teacher, retired at the end of last year." A few muffled sobs are heard around the auditorium. Everyone missed her, she was the best teacher we had.

"Fortunately, we have found a replacement. Now I'd like you to give a warm welcome to our new socials and m.t. teacher, Mr. Sparda!" The crowd clapped politely, most of them already thinking of jokes about his name.

A tall man, about 6'3", walked out on stage. He had white, white hair, a few shades whiter than my white gold blonde, and it was spiked up and back. He looked to be in his late 20's possibly early 30's, and had this almost angry-bored look on his face. He was wearing a sky blue dress-shirt and a pair of black slacks, and walked up to the podium.

As soon as the student body got a look at his hair, the rumor mill was up and running full force.

"Look at his hair!"

"Is he related to Nero?"

"Maybe, who knows?"

"He's georgeous!"

"That's what you said about Nero!"

"Well, at the time, I didn't know Nero was a girl!"

Great, just what I needed, rumors about me on the first day back. That's right, my name's Nero. Nero Rayner. I sank back into my seat and tried to become as invisible as I possibly could. At times like this, I wish I had an insta-death ability, at it would be over quicker.

Mr. Sparda cleared his throat and spoke into the microphone. His voice was kin of deep, but not too deep, an almost angelic sounding voice, I guess you could say.

"Hello students. As Mr. Samen said, my name is Mr. Sparda. And it's spelled with a 'd', so no Spartan jokes, as I'm sure most of you are thinking them up right now. I am going to tell you this now, so I won't have to deal with the complaints in the enclosed space of the classroom. My method of teaching is very different from Ms. Ranele's, so we will not be using the virtual reality system in Social Studies."

A mass of gasping from the girls and shouting from the boys instantly fill the auditorium, making it seem smaller than it actually was. Most of the girls were cheerleaders, while most of the guys were on various sports teams, and it required them to have 'B' averages for them to go to games. After about 5 minutes, Mr. Sparda continued with his speech.

"But I promise I will make it as interesting as possible."

I take it back, this year might not be so boring after all.