The Next Day- The First Day of School
As the two minute warning whistle was blown ready for registration, I pulled my rucksack further up my shoulder as I walked from the Year Nine yard to the Physics class- my form room. Everything hadn't started off great, either, and for two reasons:
Reason One: As we walked to school, Matthew sped on ahead. When I asked Alfred why he wasn't catching up with him, as he had slowed right down, he just simply to told me to wait and see. Once we got closer to the gates, I realised.
"Gay!"
"Tramp!"
"Suck my cock, Williams! Oh, wait, you'd like that!"
These were all that could be heard, as these were yelled at someone on the floor, who the shouters were kicking like a doll. Matthew. "I told him I'd help him, but if I do or try anything, he drags me somewhere after school and tells me that if I do anything, I'll get it too, even if I am the football team's captain."
"Why Matthew out of everyone?"
"They always pick on the first one in the year who is found out to be gay. In our year, it's Mattie. They kick him, jeer at him and get him into trouble whenever they can. He won't let me tell anyone, and he won't himself, so he's just making it worse."
"Matthew's gay?" I cringed. Not my own cousin…
"Came as a surprise to me to." Alfred shrugged, obviously forgetting my disgust in gays.
The two of us walked pass, keeping an eye on Matthew, both of us wanting to help, but we knew what would happen if we did.
Reason Two: It seems that one of the teachers knew my father, and didn't take it too nicely.
"Jones, who's this?" a tall, slightly cold looking woman asked.
"Oh, hi Miss!" Alfred said, trying to smile innocently. "This is my older cousin, Arthur Kirkland."
"Kirkland, eh? Well, just to let you know, your father is a-" I refused to listen to her jeering at me because I happened to be the son of Charles Kirkland. I mean, was it my choice I would be born his son? No!
"M-Miss?" Alfred started. "Arthur never lived with his dad."
"Who d'you live with then?"
"I live with Alfred's family for now, but before that, Alice Britannia?" I said, cautiously. It had been on the news about my mother's jail sentence, so I had to be careful about what I said.
"Britannia? She's just as bad. Criminal Scum-", and off she went again.
Once she finally finished, the two of us avoided her. "You won't have her teaching you, since you'll probably be in top set maths. She teaches bottom set."
"Good."
And here I was now, standing outside the Physics class. Already there was a small dirty blonde, a boy with jet black hair, and a dark brown haired boy with what are now referred to 'Harry Potter' glasses. Another boy who was around 5'10" came up next. "Hey, Arthur, is that you?"
"Yes?" I said, trying to remember who it was.
"Welcome to the Mad School." they said simply. "And even more unfortunately for us, the Bad Touch Trio are in this class."
At least I found out what B.T.T. was short for. "Who's that?"
"Gilbert Beilschmidt, an acclaimed 'Prussian' although he's from Germany, Antonio Carriedo, a Spaniard, and Francis Bonnefoy, a Frenchman. All live in the same house with Gilbert's little brother, Ludwig, and if you aren't high enough on Gilbert's 'Awesome Scale'; which is near enough nobody, you're in for a hard time."
"Oh, thanks for telling me." I nodded. From when I went to the Primary School, I vaguely remembered Gilbert, but the other two names were vague to me.
That's when the whispers started. Near enough everyone in the form had lined up now, and apparently, the Bad Touch Trio were about to make their appearance.
They were literally bowed upon. Gilbert was in the middle, with his platinum blonde hair and blood red eyes, and laughing his usual laugh of 'Kesesese,' (one thing you would never forget if you heard). On his right was a smiling boy with brown hair and green eyes, and had a lollipop in his mouth. His shirt was tightly tucked in, so tightly it made him look like he was mad. From a whisper from the person I had been talking to, that was Antonio. Meaning that the other one was Francis. He was flicking his long blonde hair, his blue eyes on Gilbert and Antonio. He looked like a wanker.
The three of them stopped right next to me. "Kirky's back!" Gilbert said. "Where you been?"
"Another school."
"One of those schools for posh scums. Why did you come to this dump then?"
"None of your concern."
Antonio took the lollipop out of his mouth. "Your Alfred and Matthew's cousin aren't you?" he asked, and I could easily tell he was Spanish, as his accent flowed through out of it.
"Toni, I'm talking to Arthur, now go eat a tomato."
"But Miss McKaren will be her normal self and go 'You're not meant to eat or drink in a Science Lab, throw it in the bin' and I am not throwing any of my precious tomatoes in the bin!"
Gilbert sighed and dragged Antonio somewhere else down the corridor, leaving me with the frog. Francis flicked his hair before speaking to me. "Bonjour, mon copain" (Hello, my friend).
"What does a wanker like you want?" I asked. I couldn't stand the French, from their accents to their annoying language. Unfortunately, until the end of the year, I had to take it twice a week, so I knew what he had said.
"I'm just trying to make friends, mon cher" Wait, did he just say my dear at the end of that? THAT IS DISGUSTING!
"Get you and your French-ness away from me!" I said, pushing him as far away as I could.
He looked slightly offended, but shrugged. "You'll regret saying that to me eventually" he said softly, before going to find where Antonio and Gilbert had gone.
"Yeah, in your dreams" I muttered.
Out of every first lesson in the year. French, followed by Maths, Geography and English. Maths was OK if you had the right teacher, but apart from Geography, they were all rubbish. Especially when I found out the French wanker had it with me.
"OK! I'll put you in your seating order as of next week!" Miss Blakeless said, which resulted in a lot of groaning. Matthew's form was already here, but Alfred charged in right at that moment, knocking someone over. "Sorry, dude" he said, but didn't help them up.
"For now, sit wherever you want, since some of you are new to this set and there is a new boy, yes?" she said, looking me straight into the eye. I hated it when people did that, so I looked away after nodding.
An arm wrapped around me as Alfred smiled, and he had done the same to Matthew. "I'm sitting with you guys!" he said.
The three of us found a seat right at the front, since most of the idiots had decided to sit in the back, so they could muck around and were less likely to get caught, including the Bad Touch Trio. Miss Blakeless then went onto ranting on about things I already knew, and from what I saw, everyone else did too.
After about half an hour, she started shouting at people. "Mr Adnan, please be quiet! Mr Honda, would you please wake up Mr Karpusi? And Mr Bonnefoy, you haven't listened to a word I've said!"
"Mais Mademoiselle, je suis bilingue." (But Miss, I am bilingual)
Miss Blakeless looked a bit embarrassed. "Well, just let everyone else listen."
"Ohohohon, oui mademoiselle" Francis said, leaning back in his chair, before going back to talking again. Damn frog.
As the lesson finally rolled to an end, it was break time. Alfred and Matthew (who was sticking closely to us), were showing me around and introducing me to teacher, but these one's were nice enough.
Once the whistle for third lesson went, the three of us went up to Maths. Matthew and I were in top set, while Alfred was in second set with a teacher who just got married, and most people were surprised anyone would want to marry her,so I guess nobody liked her really. The teacher Matthew and I had was around sixty years of age, hair full turned grey, and from the sounds of it, he was one of the teachers you liked or hated. "Alright!" he shouted. "Just sit your butts down on those plastic things supposedly called 'chairs' and shut yer gobs!"
"He was in the Navy." Matthew explained.
As we all sat down somewhere, Sir smiled, pretending that he hadn't just shouted at us as if we were disobedient dogs. "Now, for this lesson, you are going to be doing something different. This is just a quiz of you as a person, and answer it TRUTHFULLY."
As Sir handed out some of the papers, some of the class snickered. I was convinced he was eying up the metre ruler, which would probably give them sore butt's for a while.
As a sheet was placed in front of me, I studied the sheet:
Generally, how do you feel?
1)Happy
2)Neutral
3)Sad
4)Depressed
5)Stressed
Tempted to write generally pissed underneath, I just circled 4.
How is your family life?
1)No Problems
2)Minor Problems, Nothing Major
3)Depends on how members are getting on.
4)Not very good.
5)Extremely poor.
I automatically circled 5.
And most of the questions ended up with the same, negative results. "Alright, turn the sheet's over and add your points up, then read the result."
This should be fun. My results added up to forty-seven, so I looked to the bottom of the sheet to see the result:
40-48: You're currently a bit down in the dumps.
A bit?!
Reading the more detailed description, I sighed. This made my life seem like it did before I turned seven, basic and care-free. I wished it was like it was before.
"Arthur! Bet you can't catch me!"
"That's easy Alfred!"
"You two are going to run straight into that table…"
BAM!
"Mattieeeeee~ My head hurt's!"
"I told you!"
"Kiss it better Arthur! It's your fault!"
"Who ran into the table?"
"You chased me!"
That memory…
That was when we were four years old. It was 'playtime', so we were just messing around like any four year olds would. Alfred cut his head open, since there was actually something that shouldn't be put near young children on the edge of the table, and it went straight in his eye, meaning he had to have an operation, and wear glasses from that day. Matthew wore his from poor eyesight, nothing else.
That was when I realised that the Maths teacher was looking at my results, before he sympathetically smiled, picking up my sheet.
Geography wasn't overly bad. We had a quiz on the countries in Europe, and I managed to get thirty eight out of forty two (I forgot one of the rivers in Mainland Europe and got Denmark, Belgium and Netherlands Capital's mixed up). Well, that wasn't bad, considering that Alfred got seven. "Dude! I'm from North America, set me a test on that, ditching the Caribbean, and I'll get 100%!"
"That's hardly any, Mr Jones." Mr Richardson said, tutting silently at Alfred.
"It's true though!" Alfred said, pouting. "Not cool."
"Alright!" Sir spoke up, nearly shouting, if only Black Eyed Pea's wasn't blaring out from Religious Education next door (It had some meaning, I think it was about poverty, terrorism, child abuse etc.). "Next week, I am assigning you a project, and you will be with a partner I have chosen already!" Several groans filled the classroom. "This project will be to do a study on one continent. This means you have to have information on the continent in general, AND the countries in it. Mr Jones, that includes the Caribbean." Alfred gave Mr Richardson the evils as he said this. "You will have one month after you partner has been assigned to complete it." he said, before the bell rang and everyone was dismissed for lunch.
"Damn, Sir's known for partnering worst enemies together. I'll probably get paired with Carlos." Alfred said, looking at the slightly overweight student glaring at him already. Apparently he hated in Alfred in general, and the glare had been there since he mentioned 'ditching the Caribbean', as he was from Cuba. He got on with Matthew fine, but had a strong hating for Alfred. "As will Adnan and Heracles, and by your bad luck, Artie, you and Francis."
"You're kidding me." I practically did the action Alfred would call a 'facepalm'. I really needed to be paired with the frog for something like that, as Sir had mentioned later in his little announcement that the work would probably have to be worked on at each other's homes to get the highest level, and my Geography target was one of the highest in the class, so I needed it pretty badly.
"Unfortunately not." Matthew muttered. If he said so, it was the truth.
"Damn."
English. A lesson I didn't like at all, unless it was literature., but Miss didn't half like talking much?
Since she hadn't taught any of us, she spent the whole lesson trying to remember our names, and then started playing a solider song 'It's a long way to Tipperary', since apparently, we are doing WWI poetry.
As the lesson eventually went second by second, nearly everyone was looking at the clock. (Apparently the second hand broke off two years ago, and was still lying between the seven and the five). When the bell went, nearly everyone went straight for their stuff and raced out of class.
Eventually finding my way out, I saw Alfred and Matthew leaning against the bike rack, since we had taken our bike to school. But as the three of us started pedalling back to their house, I suddenly felt someone touch my shoulder; drag me off my bike, and into a dark alleyway…