Great. It was the best time of the day in the Stirder household.

Morning.

Of course, to celebrate such a joyous event in this household, my bro does what he always does:
He slams the fucking door open and tugs my sheets off me and exclaims in his thick Texan drawl:
"Rise and shine lil' man."
Of course to make the experience way better, as if it wasn't already fucking perfect, that creepy fucking puppet of his was slouched over his shoulder. I swear that thing is secretly planning to kill me.

I started flailing my arms as my only defense against the impending horror of having to wake up and go to school. Summer vacation went by fast as usual, but with the heat in Texas, does summer ever actually fucking end?
As I grumble and get up out of bed, Bro smiles at me, because nothing makes Bro Strider happy than seeing his favorite little brother miserable. Or at least that's sure as hell what it seems like. I sometimes wonder why I, David Elizabeth Strider, out of all the people on this stupid planet had to be given a brother whose calling is waking up at 4:00 AM in the morning to make puppet sex toys.

After slipping on a shirt and some black jeans, I went to go see what was for breakfast. Of course Bro being the culinary expert he is, microwaved some 2 day old pizza we had in our fridge. I took a few bites, because it was all I could manage without wanting to throw up. I then went to go brush my teeth, take a shower, and after my typical hair styling routine, I was out the door.
I went to go sit at the bus stop that was a block away from my apartment building. Since Bro wasn't around to stop me, I grabbed a cigarette from my hoodie pocket and lit it up. As I took my first drag, I felt a vibration from the same pocket. I grabbed my iPhone.
It was my sister. "Have a nice day at school Dave. Let me know how everything went!"
My sister lived in New York with her mom, but sometimes she'd visit. I got along pretty well with her, but somehow she always could see right through me and she was the only person who could keep up with my smartass metaphorical rambling. My ironic demeanor was transparent to the mind of Rose Lalonde and her psychoanalysis.

A minute or two after I finished my cigarette and put it out, I got on my bus. There were way too many new students. Why the fuck was everybody moving to Texas suddenly?
Shit. I actually had to sit next to somebody. Usually I always got a seat to myself and people were too intimidated by me and my "coolness" to sit next to me. I scanned the bus to find a decent person to sit with. I walked over to find a really pale kid with black hair and a gray turtleneck. He might as well have had a giant neon sign that says "Put me out of my misery" attached to his forehead. It was either him or that juggalo sitting behind us. I sat down assuming he'd just scoot over and ignore me, as is common bus riding courtesy. I nudged for him to move his book bag for me to sit down. He just sat there with his arms folded, not moving an inch.
"Look kid, its not like I have a fucking choice. Move over."
He looked at me from the corner of his eye but still didn't move. I grabbed his book bag and threw it on the floor as he huffed in defeat and I took a seat. He mumbled under his breath.
"Fucking douchebag."
"And a good morning to you too sweetheart." I smirked knowing I one-upped him. The juggalo smiled a bit at the awkward encounter, as if he was used to this shit. Then he leaned his lanky neck up to the "sweetheart" and started asking him how his summer was. Somehow clownboy was best friends with that little prick. I wasn't going to question it, I just ignored them and tuned them out until the bus arrived to school. This year wasn't going to be any different from any other year. I was still that one kid nobody dared to come up to because he was way too damn cool for existence. Or at least thats what I've convinced myself. I could easily admit that I just didn't like being around large groups of people and that "the whole silent cool kid who never takes off his sunglasses" gimmick was just a way of hiding how much I really fucking hated myself. However, I'm Dave fucking Strider and I'm too cool to be lonely or sad. If I can handle a sword fight with Bro, I can handle being alone right?
"Get up shitstain, the bus is already here!"
The grey sweater kid pushed me out of the seat. I sighed and got my shit and hopped off the bus. I scratched the back of my head and wondered what the fuck crawled up that kids ass when the juggalo kid came up behind me.
"Don't worry, that motherfucker don't mean no harm"
Oh god this kid fucking reeked of weed. I've heard rumors of drug dealers around this place. Guess he was one of them. He gave me a stoned smile and walked into the building, catching up with his bitchy little friend.

As I got on into the building, somebody bumped into me. I turned around expecting another douchebag, but sduddenly the person flinched and looked up at me scared shitless. He had a schedule in his hand and looked lost.
"E-excuse me, I'm new here from Washington... Washington State! Do you know where room 304 is?" He had black thick-rimmed glasses and big icy blue eyes. His face was round and he had rosy cheeks and a giant toothy smile to top it all off. This kid was going to get his ass kicked at a place like this.
"Yeah, yeah, its like up the stairs and to the left over there." I pointed to show him where he should go.
"Thanks!" he chirped happily with his bucktoothed grin and walked up the stairs.
I walked up the other set of stairs and to your next class. I couldn't really tell yet, but shit was going to be different this year. For better or worse.