Chapter 6-A New School
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So I'm generally an early riser, but nothing prepared me for the 5 AM icy wake-up call I got from my roommate for a before the first day of school.
"Alex! Alex wake up!" Ice cubes rained down on me. "We've got a group training session in fifteen minutes."
"You're kidding me."
"Would I normally ice your bed to wake you up?"
"Knowing you, yes."
"Ah, but not at five in the morning."
I stared at him, as the ice piled up around me. He was grinning, but I was not a happy camper right then. "Whatever you say, freezer boy," I knew it would piss him off, so before he could react, I jumped out of bed and headed for the door.
"Don't you ever call me freezer boy again!" he yelled as I dodged blasts of ice. "You'll pay for this in the danger room. See if I freeze the robot attacking your ass today."
"See if I tell you it's coming, ice cube." I replied. I jumped aside as another shot came my way. The room was still dark, so I had an advantage. I slipped out into the hallway and went to change into my uniform.
It was a search and rescue simulation today, and it would've been fun, except that I still couldn't get over the fact that it was FIVE IN THE MORING. Honestly, who trains at 5 AM? I should look into that-maybe I could talk to Logan. No wait, better make that Ms. Munroe.
We were done by 6:30, which still gave us plenty of time to get ready for school.
Admittedly, I was as excited as I was scared about the prospect of a new school-the last time I had been new at a school was in kindergarten, so I wasn't prepared for the change. On the other hand, in the eleven years I attended St. Asaph's Academy for Boys, I had never really enjoyed it, so any change was welcome. Besides, it would be the first time I'd been to school with girls since preschool.
Because of my nerves, I was ready by 7:30 and caught the early ride from Ms. Munroe. I found myself in a hallway full of students-none of whom I knew. Bobby and Amara stayed around for awhile, but they eventually headed off to find their first class, so I decided to do the same.
I looked at my schedule. First period: Orchestra. Teacher: Dr. Pavletski. Room: Orch. Great-the orchestra room didn't even have a number. I just had to wander the halls of a gigantic and unfamiliar school aimlessly until I stumbled across the music wing.
Fortunately for me, I didn't have to take that approach. I spotted a guy carrying a guitar talking to another with a saxophone. They weren't exactly orchestra instruments, but I figured they must be headed in the right direction. As we neared the music rooms, I found more string instruments and ditched the guitarist.
I sat down in what I assumed to be the cello section and began warming up slowly. As I was early, there weren't that many people there, just a few who were hanging out in the orchestra room before school started.
While I went through my major and minor arpeggios, I watched the others in the room. In typical musician fashion, lots of people were already there warming up or just hanging out. A violinist was practicing from an etude book across the room. Two drummers were throwing sticks at each other. A flutist chatted with the oboe sitting next to him. A girl at the piano near the podium cracked her fingers and began to play.
It was a slow, twelve bar blues pattern, which she used as a base for improvisation. I watched her as her fingers moved over the keys, managing to hit the right bit of ivory every time despite her lack of sheet music. She was quite pretty-she looked sort of Indian or south Asian in descent- and she was really short, but she didn't look like an underclassmen. I hoped she was in my grade-at this point the only junior I knew was Rogue, and while she was nice once you got to know her, she wasn't the most outgoing and helpful person.
I found the key she was playing in and began to play along, plucking the strings of my cello to form a base line. After awhile, she nodded at me and backed off her solo to let me have the lead.
I don't generally solo much on cello, it being a classical instrument and all, so I was a little tentative. Honestly, I wouldn't've normally taken the solo, except, well, you know...I wanted to impress her. I didn't get to play for long, though, because the director soon stepped onto the podium and actually began rehearsal. I watched the pianist get up to go to her own section, and was frankly thrilled when she picked up a cello and sat right behind me.
"Cello's an interesting instrument to play the blues on, you know." She was whispering in my ear. It was going to be a good first day of school.
"I learned bass so I could play in my friend's jazz combo in my old school," I told her. "They had everything but a bassist, and I got roped into it because I could actually read bass clef."
"Hey, that's how I got stuck on cello."
"You got forced into playing cello so you could join a jazz band?" I said in mock surprise. "Damnit, I was hoping to be the first jazz cellist in the nation."
"My parents play violin and viola-they made my sister and me learn violin and cello so we could form a family string quartet. I don't mind playing cello, it's just that my parents can be so pitifully nerdy." Now I was laughing. Fortunately, the director had just made a joke or something, because a bunch of other people were laughing too.
"If it makes you feel any better," I told her, "my dad makes my sister and me wear 'Zander McAllister-Working for You' t-shirts whenever we travel in his district-even if it's not a campaign year."
Before she could respond, we were cut off by the director. "You must be Alexander, our new student." I looked up at him guiltily. His voice was calm, but he didn't look too pleased to meet me.
He motioned for me to stand up. "Everybody, I'd like you to welcome Alexander, who will be joining the cello section this year." There was a weak chorus of greetings coming from around the room as he continued. "As Mr. McAllister has come from an accomplished orchestra at his old school in Washington DC, he no doubt knows that one should remain quiet when the director is talking. Am I correct, Alexander?"
Oh great-it was first period, and I'd already managed to get on the bad side of my orchestra director. I honestly wouldn't care if this were chemistry or something, but I actually liked orchestra. I meekly nodded in agreement, hoping this would appease him.
"As for you, Miss Singh, you should know better. This is your third year in my orchestra, and it's not the first time I've had to remind you of rehearsal etiquette." She too nodded and stared at the floor until he moved on to passing out music.
I sat down and didn't talk to her for the rest of the period, for fear I'd get brought to attention again. I would've waited for her after class, but I had to figure out how to get to second period as soon as possible. I hurried down the hallway, my nose buried in my map of the school.
"Hey, Alexander!" A voice called out down the crowded hallway. It took me a minute to figure out it was for me.
"Alexander, I'm glad I found you before you left." Miss Singh was standing in front of me, holding her books in her arms. "I'm sorry I made Dr. Pavletski pick on you-he rather enjoys tormenting new kids."
"Hey, it's no problem," I told her. I wasn't thrilled about sitting in front of a bitter orchestra director, but it really wasn't her fault. There was an awkward pause in the conversation. I think having gone to an all boys school my entire life has made me suck royally at chatting with girls, particularly hot girls.
Fortunately, she broke the silence. "I'm Anita, by the way."
Ooh, she has a name, I thought. I held out my hand to shake her extended one. "Call me Alex," I told her. "I honestly can't stand Alexander-it makes me feel like my grandfather."
She laughed-a good sign, I thought. Hmm.maybe I could get her to show me where my next class is.
"Hey, do you know where room 109-A is? I've got American history and government there in two minutes." I held up the map to see if she wanted it, but she jumped right in with,
"Oh yeah, I'm in that class too. Come on-it's right this way." She headed off into the crowd and I tried to keep up with her. She was so short that every time I lost her, I had to scan through the crowd to find her, but I invariably ran into someone in the process.
After two flights of stairs and about a million collisions, I found room 109-A (nestled between 107-A and 116-B. No wonder the map didn't make any sense) and settled into a seat that was fortunately next to Anita, but unfortunately in the front row.
While everyone else sat down and waited for Mr. Biddle to come in, Anita told, or rather warned, me about our teacher.
"He hates underclassmen-they live in fear of him. I remember once he subbed for my freshman history class, and we spent the entire period cowering silently while he graded papers."
"Oh, great," I told her, "now I'm dying to meet him."
"He is pretty scary-but, you know, we're juniors now. The inherent hatred is gone. You have to earn his hate now. Whatever you do, though, don't-"
Unfortunately for me, Mr. Biddle chose that moment to walk into the room.
Well not exactly walk, more like burst.
"Now y'all sit down and be quiet" was all we got before he headed for the board and began writing. He was a big man-big and southern. In fact, he had a southern accent that reminded me of Foghorn Leghorn, you know, that big rooster on Looney Tunes? I half expected him to turn to me and say, "Now what, Ah say what is your name?"
Fortunately, he didn't. He kept writing on the board. At first I thought it was a list of people in the class, but the names looked so familiar. I scanned the list again; Atterbury, Flores, Greenberg, Lynch, McClure, Soportski, there were about thirty of them.
"Welcome to American History and Government. Y'all should know me, if not as Mr. Biddle, then as that teacher who yelled at y'all when y'all were just little freshman." He laughed to himself and the rest of the class looked a bit uneasy. He must have a scarring effect on underclassmen.
"Now, y'all are gonna reap the benefits of taking this class in an election year," he had finished writing on the board and was now facing us. "Does anyone know what this list is?"
It hit me. Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, "It's a list of congressmen who're facing serious opposition in their reelection campaigns this fall." I knew this list because I'd seen it countless times around the house. My father was on this list.
Mr. Biddle didn't seem too pleased with my speaking out of turn. He glared at me over his reading glasses. "And who, Ah say who, might you be?"
I gulped. "Alex, sir. Alex McAllister. I'm a new student" I hesitated giving him my last name, but I figured making him ask for it would just anger him more.
"Well, since you're new, I'm not gonna yell at ya, but be warned. Ya speak out in mah class, you just might get an eraser thrown at ya." He took aim with one of those really long ones, but didn't throw it.
"Yes sir," I replied. Hopefully, this wouldn't go any farther.
He chuckled to himself and looked at the whole class. "Now young Alex here is right; so we're gonna divide up into pairs and y'all are gonna make a quarter-long project of following these representatives." I looked to Anita to see if she'd be my partner, and she nodded-"score!" I thought, "This day is looking better and better."-while Mr. Biddle passed around handouts with our designated representative and the first assignment on it.
"First assignment's due next week," she said to me as we walked out of class, "do you want to meet this weekend and discuss....." she looked at the handout again, "Rep. Soportski?"
"Sure," I said. I paused before I went on, hoping this would go well. "Is Friday night ok?"
She looked at me and smiled. "Would St. Rita's Pizza be ok?"
"At eight?" It was going quite fine.
"I'll see you there."
Woohoo! It was 10 AM on the first day of school, and I had a date.
It was a beautiful day.
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Author's Note: So I lied, so I didn't have this chapter already written. And I didn't include the part with Mystique, but it's all good, or at least I hope it is.
Risty: yeah, I forgot about that whole Scott/Rogue thing. I think I will just add it to the list of his powers. Alex McAllister: X-ray vision, sees in the dark, exceptional preppiness.
I was actually thinking of all the exceptionally preppy boys that go the exceptionally preppy boy's school that Alex's school in DC is sort of based on. Let's just say that if Scott looks like a Gap model, boys at this school look like they own Banana Republic.
Anyway, thanks for reviewing
And thanks to anyone else who read
Feedback is appreciated
I do intend to finish this story. It has a plot all planned out and everything-I just have a lot of other stuff to do right now, so it'll take a while
Adios
hnh
.................
So I'm generally an early riser, but nothing prepared me for the 5 AM icy wake-up call I got from my roommate for a before the first day of school.
"Alex! Alex wake up!" Ice cubes rained down on me. "We've got a group training session in fifteen minutes."
"You're kidding me."
"Would I normally ice your bed to wake you up?"
"Knowing you, yes."
"Ah, but not at five in the morning."
I stared at him, as the ice piled up around me. He was grinning, but I was not a happy camper right then. "Whatever you say, freezer boy," I knew it would piss him off, so before he could react, I jumped out of bed and headed for the door.
"Don't you ever call me freezer boy again!" he yelled as I dodged blasts of ice. "You'll pay for this in the danger room. See if I freeze the robot attacking your ass today."
"See if I tell you it's coming, ice cube." I replied. I jumped aside as another shot came my way. The room was still dark, so I had an advantage. I slipped out into the hallway and went to change into my uniform.
It was a search and rescue simulation today, and it would've been fun, except that I still couldn't get over the fact that it was FIVE IN THE MORING. Honestly, who trains at 5 AM? I should look into that-maybe I could talk to Logan. No wait, better make that Ms. Munroe.
We were done by 6:30, which still gave us plenty of time to get ready for school.
Admittedly, I was as excited as I was scared about the prospect of a new school-the last time I had been new at a school was in kindergarten, so I wasn't prepared for the change. On the other hand, in the eleven years I attended St. Asaph's Academy for Boys, I had never really enjoyed it, so any change was welcome. Besides, it would be the first time I'd been to school with girls since preschool.
Because of my nerves, I was ready by 7:30 and caught the early ride from Ms. Munroe. I found myself in a hallway full of students-none of whom I knew. Bobby and Amara stayed around for awhile, but they eventually headed off to find their first class, so I decided to do the same.
I looked at my schedule. First period: Orchestra. Teacher: Dr. Pavletski. Room: Orch. Great-the orchestra room didn't even have a number. I just had to wander the halls of a gigantic and unfamiliar school aimlessly until I stumbled across the music wing.
Fortunately for me, I didn't have to take that approach. I spotted a guy carrying a guitar talking to another with a saxophone. They weren't exactly orchestra instruments, but I figured they must be headed in the right direction. As we neared the music rooms, I found more string instruments and ditched the guitarist.
I sat down in what I assumed to be the cello section and began warming up slowly. As I was early, there weren't that many people there, just a few who were hanging out in the orchestra room before school started.
While I went through my major and minor arpeggios, I watched the others in the room. In typical musician fashion, lots of people were already there warming up or just hanging out. A violinist was practicing from an etude book across the room. Two drummers were throwing sticks at each other. A flutist chatted with the oboe sitting next to him. A girl at the piano near the podium cracked her fingers and began to play.
It was a slow, twelve bar blues pattern, which she used as a base for improvisation. I watched her as her fingers moved over the keys, managing to hit the right bit of ivory every time despite her lack of sheet music. She was quite pretty-she looked sort of Indian or south Asian in descent- and she was really short, but she didn't look like an underclassmen. I hoped she was in my grade-at this point the only junior I knew was Rogue, and while she was nice once you got to know her, she wasn't the most outgoing and helpful person.
I found the key she was playing in and began to play along, plucking the strings of my cello to form a base line. After awhile, she nodded at me and backed off her solo to let me have the lead.
I don't generally solo much on cello, it being a classical instrument and all, so I was a little tentative. Honestly, I wouldn't've normally taken the solo, except, well, you know...I wanted to impress her. I didn't get to play for long, though, because the director soon stepped onto the podium and actually began rehearsal. I watched the pianist get up to go to her own section, and was frankly thrilled when she picked up a cello and sat right behind me.
"Cello's an interesting instrument to play the blues on, you know." She was whispering in my ear. It was going to be a good first day of school.
"I learned bass so I could play in my friend's jazz combo in my old school," I told her. "They had everything but a bassist, and I got roped into it because I could actually read bass clef."
"Hey, that's how I got stuck on cello."
"You got forced into playing cello so you could join a jazz band?" I said in mock surprise. "Damnit, I was hoping to be the first jazz cellist in the nation."
"My parents play violin and viola-they made my sister and me learn violin and cello so we could form a family string quartet. I don't mind playing cello, it's just that my parents can be so pitifully nerdy." Now I was laughing. Fortunately, the director had just made a joke or something, because a bunch of other people were laughing too.
"If it makes you feel any better," I told her, "my dad makes my sister and me wear 'Zander McAllister-Working for You' t-shirts whenever we travel in his district-even if it's not a campaign year."
Before she could respond, we were cut off by the director. "You must be Alexander, our new student." I looked up at him guiltily. His voice was calm, but he didn't look too pleased to meet me.
He motioned for me to stand up. "Everybody, I'd like you to welcome Alexander, who will be joining the cello section this year." There was a weak chorus of greetings coming from around the room as he continued. "As Mr. McAllister has come from an accomplished orchestra at his old school in Washington DC, he no doubt knows that one should remain quiet when the director is talking. Am I correct, Alexander?"
Oh great-it was first period, and I'd already managed to get on the bad side of my orchestra director. I honestly wouldn't care if this were chemistry or something, but I actually liked orchestra. I meekly nodded in agreement, hoping this would appease him.
"As for you, Miss Singh, you should know better. This is your third year in my orchestra, and it's not the first time I've had to remind you of rehearsal etiquette." She too nodded and stared at the floor until he moved on to passing out music.
I sat down and didn't talk to her for the rest of the period, for fear I'd get brought to attention again. I would've waited for her after class, but I had to figure out how to get to second period as soon as possible. I hurried down the hallway, my nose buried in my map of the school.
"Hey, Alexander!" A voice called out down the crowded hallway. It took me a minute to figure out it was for me.
"Alexander, I'm glad I found you before you left." Miss Singh was standing in front of me, holding her books in her arms. "I'm sorry I made Dr. Pavletski pick on you-he rather enjoys tormenting new kids."
"Hey, it's no problem," I told her. I wasn't thrilled about sitting in front of a bitter orchestra director, but it really wasn't her fault. There was an awkward pause in the conversation. I think having gone to an all boys school my entire life has made me suck royally at chatting with girls, particularly hot girls.
Fortunately, she broke the silence. "I'm Anita, by the way."
Ooh, she has a name, I thought. I held out my hand to shake her extended one. "Call me Alex," I told her. "I honestly can't stand Alexander-it makes me feel like my grandfather."
She laughed-a good sign, I thought. Hmm.maybe I could get her to show me where my next class is.
"Hey, do you know where room 109-A is? I've got American history and government there in two minutes." I held up the map to see if she wanted it, but she jumped right in with,
"Oh yeah, I'm in that class too. Come on-it's right this way." She headed off into the crowd and I tried to keep up with her. She was so short that every time I lost her, I had to scan through the crowd to find her, but I invariably ran into someone in the process.
After two flights of stairs and about a million collisions, I found room 109-A (nestled between 107-A and 116-B. No wonder the map didn't make any sense) and settled into a seat that was fortunately next to Anita, but unfortunately in the front row.
While everyone else sat down and waited for Mr. Biddle to come in, Anita told, or rather warned, me about our teacher.
"He hates underclassmen-they live in fear of him. I remember once he subbed for my freshman history class, and we spent the entire period cowering silently while he graded papers."
"Oh, great," I told her, "now I'm dying to meet him."
"He is pretty scary-but, you know, we're juniors now. The inherent hatred is gone. You have to earn his hate now. Whatever you do, though, don't-"
Unfortunately for me, Mr. Biddle chose that moment to walk into the room.
Well not exactly walk, more like burst.
"Now y'all sit down and be quiet" was all we got before he headed for the board and began writing. He was a big man-big and southern. In fact, he had a southern accent that reminded me of Foghorn Leghorn, you know, that big rooster on Looney Tunes? I half expected him to turn to me and say, "Now what, Ah say what is your name?"
Fortunately, he didn't. He kept writing on the board. At first I thought it was a list of people in the class, but the names looked so familiar. I scanned the list again; Atterbury, Flores, Greenberg, Lynch, McClure, Soportski, there were about thirty of them.
"Welcome to American History and Government. Y'all should know me, if not as Mr. Biddle, then as that teacher who yelled at y'all when y'all were just little freshman." He laughed to himself and the rest of the class looked a bit uneasy. He must have a scarring effect on underclassmen.
"Now, y'all are gonna reap the benefits of taking this class in an election year," he had finished writing on the board and was now facing us. "Does anyone know what this list is?"
It hit me. Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, "It's a list of congressmen who're facing serious opposition in their reelection campaigns this fall." I knew this list because I'd seen it countless times around the house. My father was on this list.
Mr. Biddle didn't seem too pleased with my speaking out of turn. He glared at me over his reading glasses. "And who, Ah say who, might you be?"
I gulped. "Alex, sir. Alex McAllister. I'm a new student" I hesitated giving him my last name, but I figured making him ask for it would just anger him more.
"Well, since you're new, I'm not gonna yell at ya, but be warned. Ya speak out in mah class, you just might get an eraser thrown at ya." He took aim with one of those really long ones, but didn't throw it.
"Yes sir," I replied. Hopefully, this wouldn't go any farther.
He chuckled to himself and looked at the whole class. "Now young Alex here is right; so we're gonna divide up into pairs and y'all are gonna make a quarter-long project of following these representatives." I looked to Anita to see if she'd be my partner, and she nodded-"score!" I thought, "This day is looking better and better."-while Mr. Biddle passed around handouts with our designated representative and the first assignment on it.
"First assignment's due next week," she said to me as we walked out of class, "do you want to meet this weekend and discuss....." she looked at the handout again, "Rep. Soportski?"
"Sure," I said. I paused before I went on, hoping this would go well. "Is Friday night ok?"
She looked at me and smiled. "Would St. Rita's Pizza be ok?"
"At eight?" It was going quite fine.
"I'll see you there."
Woohoo! It was 10 AM on the first day of school, and I had a date.
It was a beautiful day.
-------
Author's Note: So I lied, so I didn't have this chapter already written. And I didn't include the part with Mystique, but it's all good, or at least I hope it is.
Risty: yeah, I forgot about that whole Scott/Rogue thing. I think I will just add it to the list of his powers. Alex McAllister: X-ray vision, sees in the dark, exceptional preppiness.
I was actually thinking of all the exceptionally preppy boys that go the exceptionally preppy boy's school that Alex's school in DC is sort of based on. Let's just say that if Scott looks like a Gap model, boys at this school look like they own Banana Republic.
Anyway, thanks for reviewing
And thanks to anyone else who read
Feedback is appreciated
I do intend to finish this story. It has a plot all planned out and everything-I just have a lot of other stuff to do right now, so it'll take a while
Adios
hnh