"Uh... I guess not," Alex replied, looking up at his new visitor. He was just barely taller than Alex, and they shared the not-so-filled-out figure. He was thin with a mostly clear face, though a few pimples had popped up (damn you, teenage acne) and a head of curly hair. Despite their similar sizes, Alex detected a distinct difference between himself and this guy. He had a certain air of confidence that Alex seriously lacked.
"We haven't had a new kid in a while," he said with a friendly smile, holding out his hand. "John Laurens, bad boy extraordinaire."
Alex shook his hand nervously as the two seats across from him and John gained new occupants. "Don't let Laurens fool you. He may be a "bad boy extraordinaire" compared to Mother Theresa," one of them said in a faded French accent.
John dismissed the comment. "That's Lafayette. He has, like, a billion other names too, but good luck remembering any of them. And that's Herc. Don't mind anything he says."
Alexander honestly couldn't believe it. People were talking to him? Was it this easy to make friends- well, at least acquaintances? He had to think of something to say.
"I saw you guys first hour. Edmonds's class," He replied lamely.
"Yeah, yeah. She's a real tyrant, isn't she?" John chuckled.
"If you want, I can help with that packet she gave you. She gave me one when I transferred," Lafayette offered. "She never really graded it. So much time on Google for nothing."
"Yeah, thanks." Alex was starting to feel a little more at ease. Maybe these guys weren't so bad.
Alexander was starting to feel a lot better about the new school. He had actually enjoyed himself while talking with some classmates. And they seemed to enjoy it too! Or, at least, they were too nice to kick him out of their table.
He sat next to Elizabeth - or, as she preferred to be called, Eliza - in his careers class. She was super sweet and willing to lend him her notes, which was good since he was behind in class. Thankfully, that teacher wasn't nearly as bad as Edmonds had been.
His final class of the day had to be the one he had been loathing most of all: biology. He could work with numbers all day - and, if given the chance, he would - but biology was just so boring. He shuffled into the room during the one minute bell. Much to his relief, nobody really bothered to look up at him.
The teacher, a rather overweight woman with thin round glasses, ushered him to a seat in the third row, all the way to one side. Alexander wasn't thrilled, since the filing cabinet kinda blocked the board, but anything to avoid being gawked at as if he were some kind of zoo exhibit. The woman didn't so much as introduce herself before hurrying back to her desk and beginning to hush the class for the start of the period.
She began to pass out packets (Yay, another one, Alex thought) row by row. She'd hand them to the first person in the row, and they'd pass them back. He quickly snatched his from the kid in front of him. He almost felt rude, but the girl said nothing about it.
"We're starting our chapter on the systems of the human body today," The teacher (Mrs. McAllen according to the nameplate) began right after the bell had rung. Alex counted his blessings that she hadn't tried to introduce him.
If Alex were being honest, he hadn't been paying too much attention that day. It was all so new to him, and taking notes was the last thing on his mind.
But he really tried in this class hour. Mrs. McAllen droned on and on and on about the body's digestive system, pointing at diagrams that kept popping up on the board. But he just couldn't do it. He squinted his eyes, peering around the corner of the filing cabinet, before he finally gave up and glanced to the desk next to him, copying his neighbor's notes. The boy gave him a curious glance, but said nothing about it, so Alex figured he was in the clear.
For the rest of the class hour, he half-heartedly tried to listen to the lecture while peaking over at his neighbor's notes to fill in the blanks on his own. He didn't get a chance to try and thank his silent hero, as he was out the door the moment the bell rang.
Alex shoved the note packet in his green folder and shoved that in his backpack. He slung it over one shoulder and hurried toward the door, but he got stopped the sea of classmates all trying to exit at once. He waited back for the mess to clear up, then took off toward the B wing.
He was lucky enough to run into Lafayette, who handed over his old history packet with a friendly smile.
"You're a life-saver," Alex said with a nervous chuckle.
Lafayette only gave a "Yep" before he scurried off, Herc by his side.
Alexander hugged the packet to his chest as exited the building, scanning the buses until he found his own, bus 35 (at least, according to a note he had been given during third hour).
He found a seat near the front, sat down, and prayed nobody would talk to him. Before he knew it, the bus was stopping at the corner about half a block from the Washington's house, and his first day at Miranda Senior High was behind him.