"Cheated and lied, broken so bad

You made a vow, never get mad

You play the game, though it's unfair

They're all the same, who can compare?

First you lose trust, then you get worried..."

I sat in the very back of the bus, arms crossed over my chest. I don't get why I even have to be here; school didn't officially start until tomorrow. Right now I was the only one on the bus, with the exception of the bus driver.

I stared out the window, watching the trees, fields, bushes, and grass go by in a blur. My mom made me move into the middle of nowhere with her. I would have much preferred to stay in the city with my dad. This country stuff just wasn't for me. I like knowing my way around places, and the buzz of the city at night. I liked being able to walk to the store with my friends and getting some gum or soda. I liked going to other people's houses and getting "help" with my homework. Now I live out in the sticks. No Mini-Mart to steal packs of gum from, no streets to bike down in the summer, and, most of all, now there was no escaping my mother and her ass of a boyfriend.

All throughout my hour-and-a-half school commute, only two others got on. Both of them looked as if they were in the fifth or sixth grade. I remained the only sophomore. The elementary school was a small, brick building. It had two floors, but it looked like it only held some six-hundred kids or so. After the elementary school (which was a huge waste of time going to, since nobody got off), we took another five minutes to drive down the old, worn road to the middle school and high school. The middle school was actually a good deal bigger than the high school, which was actually a bit concerning. I pondered over the why for a moment. Then I just sighed. I didn't want to think. I hadn't done any thinking for about three months; I wasn't going to start just yet.

I rummaged around in my bag, looking for my instructions. There they were! Wedged between my phone and my binder was a half-sheet of pale blue paper.

Please head into the gym. To get there, take the first hall on the left from the initial front entrance. It is at the very end of the hall. We will give you full instructions there. Bring all of the materials that were required on the school supplies list.

Signed,

Bruce Coleman, principal of Benton High

I was struck by a sudden fit of amusement. Even their names were country like. As I neared the end of the hall, I gazed dully at the door. Into Hell I go, I thought to myself.

...

I found a spot at the top of the bleachers, isolating myself from the other thirty to forty students spread out in the gym. The principal, Mr. Coleman, had babbled for a while about rules and expectations, yada yada yada. Then he split us into groups by the color of our half-sheets. Apparently, there were about ten NHS students that had been going to the Benton School District their entire lives to show us around.

I was placed in the Light Blue Group with a freshman and an Honors student to show us around. There were about three people per group counting their escorts. The gym was filled with chatter as all of the groups went their separate ways. Some outside through the back gym doors, some out in the halls, some stayed in the gym... My group wasn't so chatty. I have a feeling that all of us were deprived of sleep. Our helper barely said anything, just "We're going to go check out your lockers, so you can put your stuff in them first."

The Honors student took us towards the back of the school, where everything started to change color to blacks and creamy browns. Even the lockers were their school colors. The cocky freshman dude's locker was first. He insisted that he could do it by himself, so the Honors student tagged along with me.

I had my locker number and combo written on my palm in black Sharpie. As I neared my locker, I was relieved to see that I got a pretty good locker. Some of the others were dented or had really bad chipped paint. I felt the Honors student's eyes watch me as I entered my combo. I tried to open my locker, but it wouldn't budge. I tried again. Still no luck. "It's right-left-right, right?" I asked her, with an uneasy glance behind my shoulder at her.

I saw a smile play at her lips. "No. It's just right-left-right."

"I - isn't that what I...?" I felt my face grow hot with embarrassment. A sudden realization dawned on me. "Ohhh..." I laughed. "I got that." I said stupidly. Dammit, me. Say something cool or something for once.

She got quieter after that. Like that joke was a one-time sort of thing, never to be heard again.

I tried my combo once again. Still nothing. I cleared my throat a little, like that would clear away some stupidity. "Hey, could you help me with this?" I asked her awkwardly.

"Sure," she replied steadily. She brushed some of her blonde hair out of her eyes. I repeated my combo for her, and she tried. No luck. "Why...? Ah." She seemed to have come up with a reason. She re-entered my combo in, but this time she jerked the latch up instead of lifting it casually. It popped open with a quiet screech.

"Hey, uh, thanks." I said, trying to hide my face. Why hadn't I thought of that? I cursed myself for my stupidity for the second time that day.

I own absolutely none of the products or characters in this story. The only thing I own is the story itself.

Another thing I don't own: the song stanza at the beginning. It's a little excerpt from the song "First" by Cold War Kids.