Chapter 2 is up! I would really like to thank all the people who reviewed Chapter 1. You guys don't even know how appreciated it is. Thanks to VogueCharlotteVogue, Izout, OldiesGirlWithAPencil, celestialstarynight, Mrs. Ace Merrill, and manicdora. Also, if anyone has any ideas for the continuation of this story, I would really appreciate it. I'm always open to ideas and opinions. I hope you guys all like this chapter!

I look back on that first day in Castle Rock and wonder why things turned out the way they did. I'm sure you're thinking that I became best friends with that gang immediately. But that's definitely not what happened. Instead, they were just a random group of guys I met on my first day. Teddy asked me what my name was, I answered. He laughed at me a few seconds (an abnormally screechy laugh that gave me a headache) and made fun of me for having a "nerd" name. Chris asked me who I was and where I came from and a dry, boring conversation ensued. It was only slightly awkward. After that, I left. I simply exited the tree house and walked away, knowing I just wouldn't be friends with these boys. I don't know exactly what it was, but something told me that it just wouldn't happen.

I must admit, I kind of forgot about them instantly. I went back to my dad's car and helped him push it the rest of the way home. Then I immediately laid down to take a nap. The next morning I got up, ate some breakfast, and started with the unpacking. Life went on. It was midway through summer and I only crossed paths with the four boys a few times when I ran into them at either the candy shop or the town diner.

Summer was a drag. I made no friends and I spent most of my time up in my room, stuffing my face with PEZ and watching episode after episode of Wagon Train. The only exciting thing I witnessed at all was when the women from the hair salon came into the local drug store and started talking to the clerk about some kid who had been hit by a train four years back.

But September 3rd is finally here and I am ready to start over at a new school.
"Ready to go, Doug?" My dad calls through the house as I get up out of bed. I shout my reply back to him, stumbling through the room I have already completely trashed. I open my drawer and shuffle around for a fresh pair of socks and blue jeans. I quickly throw on a t-shirt that looks like it hasn't been washed in ages, but I'm too tired to care.

I grab a backpack I stored in my closet and make sure all my necessary school items are in there: Notebooks, pencils, pens.
I throw it over my shoulder and run through my bedroom door and out into the hallway. I go into the bathroom directly across from my room and brush my teeth and wash my face, observing how much better my acne has gotten. It hasn't.

"Hey dad," I say quickly as I walk into the kitchen and grab a slice of toast from the toaster. I run towards the cupboard, grab some jam, spread it on my toast, say bye to my dad, and make me way out the front door.

The town looks even more deserted in the morning than it does in the afternoon. It's dewy from last night's rain and the clouds are still dark, covering the sky completely and blocking any sunlight.

The school isn't very far from where I live. It's sort of hidden in the very corner of town, a very small school both population-wise and area-wise. Only about 150 students attend, about 38 in each graduating class. I heard that most students in Castle Rock drop out before they even enter Junior High.

I am shocked to find that as I walk through the town, I am completely relaxed about being in a new school, after all this is about the 20th I've attended. In all my years of new school experience, I've picked up some things. Pretty much every school is the same. You walk in, the teacher embarrasses you by making you introduce yourself to the whole class, and you sit down next to some dweebs for the rest of the year. Usually the teacher ends up being a complete asshole too and thinks it's necessary to always call on you, even if there's some nerd who'd rather answer the question.

I'm finally at the school when the bell rings. A few other kids scurry into the small building before me. I recognize one of them to the chubby kid I met on my first day in Castle Rock; Vern. He is the last one in before me and he seems to notice me. He looks at me for a split second, turns away, and looks back once he recognizes my face. But we don't exchange any greetings.

"Good morning, class," the teacher, Mr. Billson says, writing his name up on the chalkboard, "I hope you all had a marvelous summer."
I snort shortly; he doesn't sound at all like he hopes we had a marvelous summer. Luckily he doesn't notice the snort and he quickly goes to talking about the semester-long government course.

I find a seat in the very back of the room, avoiding the girls in the front, giggling and checking each-other's makeup.

Mr. Billson keeps talking about government despite the lack of attention from his students. I look around the room in amazement, wondering if he's deaf to all the chatter. The jocks are sitting in the corner as a group, not even facing the front of the room. The girls are at the front, some of them falling asleep on their desks, and others giggling nonstop (the popular girls I immediately assume).

"Yeah, just like any other high school," I say to myself. The only difference is the size; otherwise, it has all the ingredients for being a typical school.

Mr. Billson finally seems to notice the noise and he raises his voice.
"Okay everyone, let's settle down please," he says.
It takes the class a few long moments, but eventually they quiet down and face the front of the room.
"Thank you," he says calmly, with a smile.

I'm shocked at how well he's taking the class. He doesn't seem bothered or irritated like every other teacher has.
"So, would someone like to tell me the type of government that the United States has?"
I laugh silently to myself, "What is this, Kindergarten?"
A jock from the corner of the room raises his hand.
"Yes, Mr. Parker?" Mr. Billson asks him expectantly.
"A monarchy."

The whole class bursts into fits of laughter. I raise my eyebrows, not immediately sure whether the kid was being serious with his answer or not.
"Very funny, Mr. Parker," Mr. Billson says with a slight smile, "Could anyone else give me a serious answer?"
He looks around the classroom and I just know he's about to call on me, because I'm the new kid.

He scans the room, his eyes land on me, I think "here it is", but then he continues scanning and calls on a girl at the front, covered from head to toe in pink.
I sit back, in somewhat of a shock that he didn't call on me, and in even more shock that he ignored me entirely. He didn't make me stand in front of the classroom and tell everyone three interesting facts about myself.
Maybe Oregon's going to be different.