Chapter 4: Tripping Over the Little Things

"Yo dude, wake up."

I groaned, stretched and tugged at the cords to my headphones pulling them out of my ears with a pop.

I looked up and saw a tall, lean guy leaning down in front of me, his nose inches away from mine, despite the fact I was sitting on the ground. His sandy brown hair that resembled a mushroom cut that was long overdue for a hair appointment, was tousled, probably from whatever he had been doing with my roommate.

"What time is it?" I moaned. My back ached from leaning against the wall and my ass killed from sitting on the wooden floor. There was only one light and that was in the center of the hallway down a ways from us. My guess; late.

He reached out his hand and pulled me off the ground. "Twelve thirty." He replied in a tired monotone. "You're the new roommate huh?"

I scratched my ear and tried to blink the sleep out of my eyes. "I guess. You're the boyfriend?"

His dark brown eyes, that almost looked a black color widened and he shook his head and looked both ways. "I would rather you not spreading that around thanks." He growled from deep within his throat. He blinked after the warning and shrugged. "Yeah I guess."

I nodded and stood in front of him in silence unsure of what to do or say.

"Alan, by the way. Alan Stock." He said thrusting out his hand and not breaking eye contact. Without meaning to, this guy was a little creepy and I know creepy; I'm usually creepy's best friend.

"Adam Banks." I replied grasping his hand and matching his tight grip. For some reason this guy makes me feel very small and I'm not sure I like that. However, I need to make connections and this guy seems to be the type to make connections with. "Guess I'll be seeing you around." I nodded.

He nodded and let go of my hand and shoved his hands into his pockets and retrieving his key and walking to the door next to mine and Drake's. "Guess so, neighbor." He smirked and pushed the door open as quietly as possible.

I shook my head and walked into my own room. It looked fairly normal, including Drake, who hasn't seemed to have moved from the very spot he was lying in before I left. His hair was almost neater than what it was before I had left, everything was in place and he still had the 'bored but baring it' smirk spread across his face.

"Hey." I muttered looking around, including the ceiling. I wasn't sure why, but this kind of freaked me out. Something should be out of order.

"Are you missing something?" He asked putting his car magazine down and staring at me, his nose twitching with confusion.

I shook my head. "No. I was just expecting the room to be more... messy? You know?"

He shrugged as I sat down on my bed uneasily. "No I don't know." He rolled his eyes when I didn't move or do anything in response. "That was a joke. Ha ha ha?" He scoffed and readjusted his magazine on his lap. "Guess we don't know each other well enough to be cracking jokes." He muttered under his breath.

I shook my head at my abnormal roommate and turned around and pulled my shirt off my back and threw it into my closet.

"I don't like mess alright?" Drake admitted without me even pressuring him. "It just bothers me. Always has, always will." He explained.

"Oh." I muttered unsure of what to say in response as I crawled under a blanket I had tossed on my bed before I had left to pick up my uhhh...needs...

"Night." He muttered as he turned out the light.

I nodded even though he couldn't see me through the dark.

And thus began my restless night. See, I've been to tons of schools, most of which are on the East Coast, and fairly expensive at that and I can never fall asleep on my first night there. I usually end up thinking most of the night. Usually about my family. Mostly about my mother and her greed.

My mother is proud to say that I haven't spent one day in a public school; all private, every single one of them. The sad thing is that I've run out of places to go, basically. And if I haven't gone there, they have heard of me and they don't want me, which is totally cool with me.

The thing is that I really don't like moving from place to place. I would rather be in one place all the time however that would make the school happy, which would make my mother happy and I'm still mad at her for not trying harder with my dad. Not that I'm surprised that she dumped him off at some mental institution.

Before my dad had his crisis, my parents didn't really like each other. My dad, after seeing some of my parents' wedding photos, married my mother for her looks, because I can't deny it, but I got my looks from her gene pool. And my mother married my father for his money, which is fairly obvious.

Now, you see, if my father didn't have his breakdown, my parents would probably be divorced and I would be living with my father off at some private school, playing hockey; his dream for me, and his assets would be split equitably between them. But, my mother is now not only his spouse, but his 'guardian' for lack of a better word and because of his mental incapacity, has total control over his funds, houses, cars... everything.

And I hate her for it. Now don't even think of trying to write off the word hate. I mean I hate her with a fiery, burning passion that consumes me to the core. And believe me she deserves it.

I yawned once and turned over. My mother was a cure for insomnia; thinking of her always tired me out. I closed my eyes and buried my hands under my pillow, and reopening my eyes, staring at the wall not two inches from my nose.

Sleep came more easily to me as I remembered why I hated my mother.

The sound of an alarm clock stirred me from a dreamless sleep. I jumped and glanced around the room taking in my surroundings a bit more. On the wall above Drake's bed a poster of 'System of a Down' and a poster of a huge pot leaf was on the adjacent wall. I smiled.

He walked out of the washroom with toothbrush in hand wearing a pair of boxer shorts. "Good you're up. You definitely didn't want me to walk you." He grinned shoving the foamy brush into his mouth and shuffling back into the washroom. "What do you have for homeroom?" He yelled, muffled by the suds.

I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. "Don't know. I didn't look."

He poked his head out from the doorframe staring at me still sitting in bed. "Well look. I still need breakfast."

I groaned as I reached to the ground from my bed, gripping onto my coat and pulling it onto my lap and reaching into my breast pocket slipping out the perfectly folded piece of paper. I glanced at it quickly. "Advanced Chem.; B. Barkley. Joy." I grumbled and fell back onto my pillow. "That is the last time I'm letting Mimi pick my courses."

Drake giggled from the bathroom. "You're dating a chick named Mimi? I'm so glad I like guys."

"Mimi is my mother." I shot back at him disgustedly.

He looked around the doorframe again with his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. "You call your mother Mimi? What's wrong with 'mom'?"

I sat up and rolled my eyes. "Because she never was much of a mother and Lucifer was taken." I replied in monotone and opted to rolling out of bed instead of using my knees. I was much too achy to be using my joints. I fell out of bed with a thump and stared up at the white dimply ceiling. "Having fun?" Drake asked standing over me and reaching out a hand to help me off the floor. He sighed as I got up on my own and continued. "Don't worry. Alan has Chemistry with Mr. Berkley the same time as you. He isn't as bad as you would expect."

I nodded and yawned once. "I think I might skip my first day. If they call me I'll tell them I have jet lag."

He snickered and ran a hand through his tangled blue-black hair. "And you'll be in class quicker than you say 'Quack'."

My eyes widened as he turned his back to me. Did he just say 'quack'? I shook my head. He must've said something else. "What did you say?" I yelled at him rushing over to the washroom, my eyes widening.

"You'd be in class before you can say Quack?" He said shaking his head and facing the mirror, combing his hair down flat then ruffling it quickly. It looked worse than it did when he rolled out of bed, but I had a feeling he wanted it that way. He glanced at me and must've seen a confused look on my face. "Our mascot at this school is a Duck. Lame-totally; however it's really funny to go tell a Varsity hockey player to go 'fuck a duck'. It's hilarious."

I turned around once and walked to my closet and grabbed a polo shirt from one of the hangers. I felt as if I were hyperventilating. I was a Duck? My mother put me into a school forcing me to become a Duck, just like that fool Bombay tried and didn't succeed in doing. I betrayed my father.

I was a Duck.

They would pay.

I cooled down as we wandered through the halls before going to the Cafeteria and Drake seemed to own the school, just by the way he walked. It was like a swagger. He just reeked of confidence. He glanced over at me and frowned. "I don't even know your last name dude." He laughed lazily and shook his head. "I just realized that."

I snorted and shook my head. "Adam Banks."

He smirked. "How very preppy of you." He reached out his hand grasping mine in a tight handshake. "Drake Jones, you're friendly everyday roommate slash dealer, at your service Adam Banks." He grinned a big charismatic smile. Hadn't he chosen more alternative style of clothing and dyed his hair bright blue, he probably would've been one of the most popular people at this school, but he chose to be unpopular. I think I liked it better that way.

I smirked. "I wouldn't have pegged you as a Jones type of person."

He shrugged. "You've heard of the saying 'keeping up with the Jones' right?" He asked, not even waiting for my nod in comply. "My great-great- great grandparents were the original Jones and that saying was made up about them." He laughed and wrapped his arm around my neck. "Well enough of that. I am going to educate you about this great a noble school."

"Oh, teach me the ways my master." I laughed as we continued walking.

"Banks; you and I, we're one in the same. Like you, I've been to a couple schools and just to tell you, Eden Hall, this place, it's different." He smirked as he pushed through the doors of the cafeteria that was jam packed full of people.

I scoffed as I saw every single one of the cliché clicks were spread around throughout the large room. "Just to tell you, Jones; this place is so similar to every single other school I might have thought I walked into the Twilight Zone if I didn't know better."

Alan walked up behind us as I finished speaking. He began to hum the tune of 'the Twilight Zone' behind Drake's ear, making him swat Alan away. "Get away you freak!" He laughed tousling Alan's hair and rubbing his ear like mad.

Alan shook his head once and his hair seemed to fall back into place, slightly messier than before, but not much. "Are we enlightening the new recruit on the finer aspects of Eden Hall Academy?" Alan asked changing his voice slightly and sticking his nose in the air. "If we are, I would like to put my two cents in."

"And that would be?"

He smirked and leaned over so he wasn't towering over me. "Don't order the meatloaf."

I shook my head. "They put students in there?" I laughed. "I've heard that one so much. Every school thinks that."

He frowned and shook his head violently. "No! I uhh... liberated some of the frog guts from the biology lab into the mixture last night. Don't order it."

I burst out laughing and Drake made a quick and disgusted face. "Thanks. I think I'm going to eat dinner off campus tonight." He mumbled to himself. "But back onto the real topic. From here I want you, Adam Banks, to point out the jocks for me, if you could."

"Ok." I replied slightly confused. Jocks were usually easy to find with their flashy letterman's jackets. "They're right over..." I stopped in mid sentence and saw the jocks were split into two groups on either end of the cafeteria. "That's odd. They're split up."

"Bingo!" He smirked and looked from either table. "About a year ago there was basically a war going on between our two hockey teams, especially the captains. Most said it was about the JV-Varsity showdown, that we have every year, but a select few, like myself, knew it was about a JV player who was moved up to Varsity." He threw his arm over my shoulder and looked around the cafeteria and searched, pointing over at one of the two 'jock' tables. "Him."

My eyes locked on a dark skinned guy, with a large smile spread across his face, laughing along with the guy I met in the stairs when I was moving in last night.

I remember him. Clearly.

But he was never smiling; no, always a scowl and with his younger brother and some guy with blond hair. I blinked. Oreo line. District Five. He was one of the Hall brothers and he had a big mouth at that, until they got that drunk of a coach to teach them and thing or two about a thing or two. Before that he could barely stand up on his skates, let alone play hockey. And he was always calling me some name.

I closed my eyes. I blocked out most of that year. It was the worst year of my life and I didn't want to remember it...

...'It's not worth winning if you can't win big'...

...'Anymore games like that and you'll be the league's top scorer'...

...'Always go for the goal'...

...'Keep your head up'...

...'I'm proud of you Adam'...

My eyes flashed open. It was his fault. That stupid Hall kid. He made my dad lose his marbles. It was his entire fault.

"Have you ever seen a pair of jocks get into a fight?" Drake laughed, looking over at me knowingly, a twisted sadistic smirk curling onto his lips.

"Actually I have, but I think I need a reminder." I grinned. "So what do I have to do?"

Alan threw an arm over other shoulder and looked over at Drake excitedly, his arm twitching ever so slightly. "All you have to do is stand over at the JV table and trip one of the Varsity players. Just that simple."

I raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Quite the war I see."

Drake nodded. "And it was quite entertaining for those who weren't involved." He licked his lips and eyed me. "So you're going to do it right?"

"Yeah." I said shifting out of their grasps and giving them one last look before walking next to the JV table, looking around the cafeteria, pretending to be looking for someone, but in actuality, looking for victims.

Then one came. He was a giant with huge knuckles and blond hair gelled down into a preppy style.

And he went down like a ton of bricks.

A fake gasp fell from my lips as I back up and looked over at the JV hockey player's table that all wore an expression somewhere between terror and shock. The oaf got off the floor and his face was beet red and the room was silent.

I tip toed away from the scene and towards the cafeteria doors where Drake and Alan were waving me over, urging me to move quicker before they realized it was me. I glanced back and saw the first punch thrown, from the oaf to the Hall kid who doubled over.

I rushed out of the room and high-fived Drake and Alan before they wrapped an arm around my neck and rubbed their knuckles into my scalp.

"Welcome Banks." Drake laughed.

Alan nodded in reply. "You did good kid. Not many people would take on Cole on their first shot."

I nodded. "Well you guys are going to have to fill me in on this war that went on between these two teams. If I want to reek any havoc I'm going to need to mimic their signature styles." I chuckled throwing an arm over Drake's shoulder.

Alan looked past me at Drake. "Did you tell him about the cake we baked for the Varsity team to give to JV?"

"Shush! You're ruining all my stories!"