Chapter Two: Ready Or Not At All (restored: July 22nd, 2004)

My locker doesn't want to open. What a great start for a perfect Monday morning. Why do I have to get the jammed locker? I could always carry my shit around in my backpack, but that's a lot of stuff to carry around.

"Stupid thing. Open!" I yell, though I know my locker is inanimate and won't do anything.

"Locker troubles?" a male's voice asks. I turn my head to the right and see a boy; dark skin, black hair, dark eyes and gorgeous.

"Huh?" I ask stupidly.

The boy smiles and elaborates. "Your locker. Are you having trouble opening it?"

"Oh. Right. I am," I admit.

He smiles again and gently pushes me aside. "I have a locker like this." He kicks the bottom of it and tugs on the door, opening it easily. "There you go."

"Thanks."

"I'm Marco. Marco Del Rossi." He extends his hand, something people seem to do a lot of here.

Extending my own hand, we shake. "Cyril Arrington. I'm new here."

"I figured. I've never seen you around here before." Marco slips his hand out of mine. "I'll see you around." He smiles that smile again and walks off.

I empty most of my backpack into the locker, except a few notebooks and school supplies, and shut my locker. I put the combination lock back into place, close it, and start to walk down the hall to my homeroom. The bell rings just as I step inside and the teacher turns to look at me, along with the other students. It's like one of those nightmares; either you step into the wrong classroom, or you step into the wrong classroom naked.

"You must be See-rl Arrington," the woman tries to pronounce. She sounds like she's talking to a slow child, that or she's having a brain hemorrhage or something.

"It's Cyril," I correct her.

She motions for me to come farther inside the English room. "Come on in and introduce yourself."

"I thought I already did."

If she insists…. I walk to her and look at the class. Almost every eye is staring at me. "I'm Cyril Arrington and I moved here from Australia a week ago." I leave it at that.

"I think there's an open seat behind Paige Michalchuk," the teacher points out. I stand there, not knowing who this Paige person is.

A blonde girl waves. "Over here, hon." She smiles at me and flips her hair. Walking over to her, I slide into the desk behind her. She turns around. "Hey, cutie."

"Oh, please…"

"Hey."

Something about high school amazes me, I think it's the fact that students here don't realize that they're being herded around without many of their civil liberties. But hey, I was in a county home for five years, this is paradise. I've always hated cafeterias though, there are rules for absolutely everything.

"Hey…Cyril, right?" I hear Marco ask from behind me, and I turn around.

"Yeah. That's right."

He smiles, making me wonder if he ever doesn't. "Hey again." He moves his eyes to three other guys next to him. "This is Spinner Mason, Sean Cameron, and Jimmy Brooks." He points to each of his friends, though none of them as good looking as Marco. They each greet me without a whole lot of enthusiasm.

"Hi," I say back to them. I pay the cashier the overpriced amount for my food and step out into the vast space that is the cafeteria.

"Would you like to sit with us?" Marco asks, realizing that I have nowhere to go.

I casually raise and lower one shoulder. "I've got nowhere else to sit, why not?" I reply.

If betting my life, I would have sworn that Marco smiled again. "All right—good."

I wait for the others to get their food and then they lead me to a table in the back of the cafeteria. There's already a 'goth' girl and a 'punk' girl at the table, and they politely wave at me. If all people in Canada are this polite I'm going to throw up.

"And who's this?" The 'punk' girl asks.

"I'm Cyril. Just moved here a week ago."

"Well, I'm Ashley Kerwin and this is Ellie Nash," the 'goth' acknowledges her and her friend.

Sitting down, I open a milk carton and take a swig, not up to talking.

Spinner looks at me. "I hear you're from Aussie," he states, overly excited.

I nod. "Really. If you're going to call the country 'Aussie,' bugger off."

"Do you see a lot of kangaroos and stuff like that?" Jimmy asks, equally enthusiastic.

"I lived in Sydney. You don't see too many 'roos in the city," I explain. "I did spend a few days in the outback once, though. I prefer wombats."

Unfortunately after that, I keep getting asked questions about Australia and other things. I'm surprised that no one mentioned the fact that I wear eye shadow, normally it's the first thing that comes out of anyone's mouth. I barely eat my lunch, that's how much I have to talk, and when the bell rings I'm more starving than I was when I first got into the cafeteria.

"I may like it here…if these people stop being wankers, that is."

Maybe if I'm here long enough that'll happen, but I'm guessing when I tell them who I am it might not blow over so well. Like I really care, I've been through stuff like that before.

Sitting down in an open desk, I look at the chalkboard and stare at the hundreds of equations written on it. I've never been good at math, but this is just ridicules. I sigh and slink down in my seat. I notice that Marco is sitting in front of me, we seem to have hit it off, I could always ask him for help…I'm going to need it.

He turns around, making my eyes grow wide for a second or two. "It's like you're stalking me," he jokes.

"Or the other way around," I state with raised eyebrows.

Marco laughs and looks at me, a smile on his face. I swear, if he does that one more time I'll rip that smile right off his face and lock it in a box. "How's your day been so far?"

"All right, but I think this class will be the death of me."

"Why's that?"

"I'm not the strongest noose in the barn when it comes to math…." I trail off.

Marco nods and chuckles. "I'm not that hot either, but I somehow get good grades. I can help you if you'd like," he volunteers, actually sincere.

I smile, something I haven't done and meant in a long time. "I'd like that, thanks."