Misplaced: Chapter 2

Waking up early isn't a Strider thing. Really, I hate getting up early. I hate school as well. I hate the people at schools. I hate a lot of things.

Instead of thinking of all the things that I hate, I roll over to check my computer. Hmm, none of those people from before messaged me during the night. But a new one started to, and for some reason, I feel as though he was by far, the most important person I have ever met. Or talk to… write to? Fuck if I know.

Any way, this derp messaged me at one in the morning. Reading through his messages was something. Apparently, he lived in Washington, Seattle. He hates Betty Crocker, in fact he refers to the company as the batter which, which I find hilarious, even if it's not in any way possible ironic. And I don't like many things unironically, so that's definitely saying something.

After spending around five minutes staring at the screen, I remember that I have school today, and that it was currently 7:15, which gave me not a lot of time to eat breakfast, have a shower, get my shit together, style my hair and run to school, which now starts at the lovely time of 8:30 am. I sure do love school.

Starting to get ready, I did everything as fast as a Strider can, which is pretty darn fast. After eating food, having one of the fastest showers ever and all the rest of that jazz, I carefully put on Bro's old shades. I do this every day. If I forgot, well… my life would be over. Again.

By the time that I was ready to leave the house, it was 8:20. The school is 20 minutes by running. Which meant one thing: I'll have to skateboard there. I was already kinda planning on skateboarding there, so it's fine with me.

Grabbing the least shitty skateboard that was mine, I set off. The skateboard was still pretty shitty. Almost everything I own is shitty. It was one of the great joys of living with my older brother.

There was a lot more people out than I anticipated, but I was cool with that. Just meant I had to do more of some of my sweet moves. Jumped over seven dogs, five people, two cars, and for the grand finale, a truck. While all that would be cool if it actually happened, it didn't. I only jumped over a garbage can. And it was knocked over. I wish I was that cool. I probably could do it, but I just… couldn't.

I got to school by 8:29. One minute from the bell. I grab my skateboard, hoping that this god awful place didn't have super strict rules like my last school. It appears that my hoping didn't work, because as soon as I walk through the door, a teacher warned me not to be doing any silly things with "that dreadful youngster's contraption" and to take of those "highly offensive eye wear," which I can agree with on it being offensive. But taking it off is a whole other story. A story that I recommend not to be repeated.

"Ma'am, I have a note from my guardian, doctor and therapist saying that I am allowed to keep this pair of atrociously ironic pair of shades on my face. Would you like to see them?" I swing my backpack around to get the none-existent notes. My backpack was over flowing with scrap papers that I had shoved in my backpack for this exact reason.

Upon seeing the mess that is my backpack, the teacher just let out a frustrated sigh. "Just go to your class." She narrows her eyes at me. "NOW!" she barked.

Yeesh, the teachers here are really quite horrible. I thought as I scurried off to my first class, not to mention one of my favorite classes, collaboration. Being as late as I am, I am the last person to enter the class. It's kinda scary to see that all the kids in the class were sitting in their assigned desks and that they all are completely silent. Actually it is terrifying, seeing. There was one last seat, left specially for me.

"Aaaaw, you guys make me feel so special." Ah, irony, though art the one and true friend that i have.

"Sarcasm is not tolerated here," a small grey haired woman said crossly. "I'll assume that you are Mr. Dave Strider."

"If Mr. Dave Strider means The Second Most Awesome Person In All Of Houston, then yes, that would be me."

"Well, Mr. Stirder, if you could please sit down, I will go over the rules and expectations for collab. Also, remove your eye wear. It is very distracting"

" No can do. I have sensitive eyes, so on they shall stay."

"Fine, just sit down and be quite. Now, the rules are as followed: …"

I slink over to the one remaining desk, and tune the old hag out. Until I head her sayt he one rule that desroys me completely.

"No one is allowed to listen to music if the their music if it wasn't approved by the one of the teachers. If a student is caught listening to unauthorized music, certain privileges will be revoked."

Barely controlled raged nearly crossed my face, but being a Strider, it didn't. In fact there was no fucking rage at all.

I am not fooling anyone, so might as well be truthful. THEY. CAN'T. BE. FUCKING. SERIOUS.

Tentatively, I raised my hand.

"Mr. Strider, if you have a question, I suggest that you wait until the end of class to ask it."

"Why not?" I asked anyways, barely concealed rage in my words. Barely concealed means very well concealed.

"Mr. Strider," the sharp voice of the old bat digging into my ear drums, "I suggest that you behave yourself, unless you want a detention before school already starts?"

"Fine, fine." I grumble, coming to the conclusion that this school is by far, the worst school ever.

By the time the bell rings, I was ready to kill someone. Anyone who ticks me of any further, they will get the brute force of a pure Strider punch.

"So, could you please explain the ridiculous rule that means I can't listen to my music?"

"Yes, but if I do, you'll be late for your next class." She is just sitting there, smiling sweetly like the evil bitch devil-teacher that got kicked out of hell because of her ugly face she is.

"I'll come after school, then." And with that said, I sauntered off because Striders don't storm.

By third period, I was considering dropping school and teaching myself whatever I needed. My phone had been taken away because I had looked at the time. There was no fucking clock, so I couldn't have known the time, so I had to use my phone, but, of course, the teacher thought I was looking at my phone because of a text message.

When the bell rang, I was ready to high tail the fuck out of here, but the teacher has other plans.

"DAVE STRIDER!"

I simply turn around to see an angry teacher standing there, holding out a detention slip.

"Yes?"

"You now have detention."

"Yeah, I think I got that."

I take the slip and start to stride off, like usual, but this pretty adorable girl grabs hold of my sleeve.

"You're Dave Strider? Like THE Dave Sttrider, little brother of Dirk Strider?"

"Yeah, if by Dirk, you mean my jackass brother who stuck me in this hell hole, then yes, I am his little brother, Dave."

"Wow! I never thought we'd meet in person! My names Clara!"

There you go, guys. The second chapter. Never thought I would actually do this.