Chapter 6 – Day at School: A Sour Taste of Reality

Here's chapter six. This one is by far the longest chapter of this story, actually it's the longest chapter I'v published on this site. I had a lot of content to cover and it wouldn't have been good in separate chapters.

A shoutout to S.K. Millz for being one of the best writers on this site, who has encouraged me to try new things.

Also you'll notice I deviate from my normal style just a tad in the fourth quarter of this chapter. That can be credited to S.K. Millz as I'm trying to teach myself to be able to write a little more poetically/in prose.

I'd absolutely LOVE it if people would tell me how they liked, or didn't, the style at the end here. It's not too different, but it's noticeable.

If you want to read a story with me utilizing that style exclusively (and more amped up) read 'Is This What It's Come To?'

Enough rambling...

Disclaimer: I do not own the Suite Life series or any characters from the shows.

The next day was long awaited – a fresh start to what had already become despicably gloomy. Zack's world was already a lost cause, unlivable. He had not expected to be driven to school that day.

"School? But, I can't go to school." Zack had experienced a plethora of emotions – fear of failure – he was overwhelmed.

Both Kurt and Carey were surprised by reaction.

"When were planning on telling me I had to go to school today?" Zack was furious, letting his fear drive him and take hold in his very core.

Kurt and Carey exchanged glances, trying to frantically communicate privately. Zack noticed.

"We didn't think we needed to. We just assumed that you'd know you had to go back."

Carey sadly nodded her agreement, "School's not optional, Zack." She knew her son never acted like this. Her son loved school. Her son always wanted to get to school early and stay after.

Zack sighed. He knew there was no sense in arguing against his new parents. If it would have been the Carey that he knew he could have fashioned a lie or reason to skip school, but these two were different. They hadn't even considered the possibility of letting him skip out on school.

It took him twenty minutes to shower, get dressed, eat breakfast, and wallow in his misery. It was the wallowing that was the worst. Zack didn't want to go to school. He didn't want to be forced to sit in a classroom listening to teacher list things off that he didn't understand – and didn't want to understand. He didn't want to have to talk to all his friends, who he didn't know, and explain what happened. He could imagine how happy the nameless faces would be to see him only to be disappointed that he had no idea who they were.

Zack spent so much time thinking about what he'd say that he didn't even pay attention to the drive. He arrived at school far sooner than he expected – or wanted.

Carey turned to look at him, "Have a good day, Zack."

Zack grumbled his reply.

"The teachers already know your situation, but your friends don't. Just remember that no body's judging you."

Zack nearly scoffed, Yeah right. He got out of the car without of word of goodbye.

My situation? Is that your clever way of saying that I'm not your son?

As Zack entered the building he was bombarded instantaneously by comments and questions. From what Zack observed everybody knew him. Either that, or the teachers had told everybody that he was coming back.

He did his best to smile, nod, and say thanks as he made his way to the door at the far end of the hall labeled 'Office'.

"… Welcome back Zack… Hey Z-Man… Are you feeling okay, Zack?... Nice to have you back, Zack…"

I don't know any of you!

Zack could feel his pulse rising. He was only halfway down the hall.

Still the assault continued.

"… Hey Zack!... Zack, over here… Zack, what was it like?... Zack… Zack!"

It never ends!

With a surprising amount of mental and physical toll he made it to the office. Quietly he slipped into the refuge, noticing, with an exasperated smile, how quickly the door closed.

"Good morning, Zack."

Zack stopped and looked at the office. It was nicer than what he expected. Of course he should have expected this much. With how much his house appeared to be worth, he should only have assumed he'd be attending the best private school in the Boston area.

He reluctantly received his schedule and books and continued to his first class. Room 197. English.

Easy enough.

The class did go by easily enough. Considering most of it was lecture, the other students mostly left him alone. After a short assault of questions and comments he sat in his seat, got out his notebook, and zoned out for an hour.

He wasn't actually zoned out though. He was well aware of his surroundings – probably too aware. He noticed the quiet glances some of the students gave him. He could only assume from those, and the stupid grins and amiable winks they gave him, that these were his friends.

At the end of class he found that he had been right. The three that had given him the most looks went over to him immediately.

"Hey, Zack."

Zack eyed the first boy for an awkwardly long second. "You don't know do you?"

His eyebrows drew close together, "I'm sorry?"

Zack gave a single dry laugh, "I don't remember anything. At all. I don't know who any of you are."

The three boys laughed and high-fived.

The first one to speak spoke again, "When did you get so funny?"

Zack grumbled, almost growled, and walked through them.

"Hey, wait up. How've you been?"

"I don't remember you. I'm sorry." Zack continued walking, his three shadows in tow.

"No seriously Zack."

Damn, he doesn't give up! Zack snapped, "Why don't you understand what I'm saying to you? I don't remember you. I don't know your name, who you are, anything."

The three looked at each other for a while, contemplating the idea. Their goofy smiles turned to concerned frowns.

"Is that really true? You don't remember us?"

Zack nodded, relieved that they believed him, but still annoyed that they continued to impede his progress towards room 255. European History.

"Oh. Well. I'm Zane."

What the hell kind of name is that?

"Yeah and I'm David."

"And I'm Michael."

Zack didn't care. He didn't know these boys and didn't want to. He just wanted to get through this hell of a day. He knew, though, in the back of his mind, that he should probably give them a chance.

They might be decent. I'll have to deal with them for the next few years; I may as well get to know them. Oh, God. The next few years?

I can't do this. Cody, I need you.

It didn't take long before they all went their separate ways. Zack arrived, alone, just before the bell rang. He kept his eyes on the floor to avoid the prying gazes of his friends – and maybe enemies. He knew it probably wasn't like him to enter a room with his head down, but he wasn't him.

It's so hard to understand!

European history passed without conflict, or notes of any kind.

Study hall, and drawing also passed without event.

French, however, was a different story.

Zack's blood pressure at least doubled when he walked into the French class. AP French. Zack didn't know a French word besides 'bonjour' and he wasn't sure how to pronounce it.

Immediately the class cheered.

"Beinvenue!... Tiens, Zack, comment t'allez vous?... Ca-va?... Salut, Zack..."

Zack stood, motionless and wordless. He was thankful and relieved when the teacher came to him and pulled him outside.

"Oh, Zack. I'm sorry. I didn't realize the class would do that."

Zack finally found words. He fought back tears he didn't even feel coming. He didn't want to cry in front of somebody he didn't know. "I don't know any French." He was disturbed to hear that his voice was already rising with the oncoming tears.

"I know. I know. I was hoping to catch you in the halls but I couldn't find you. Tell you what, until we get something figured out I'm going to let you have this block as a free block. You can go wherever you want, just stay on campus."

Zack smiled, "Thank you."

The teacher gave her own warm smiled, "Au revoir." She noticed Zack's confusion, "Oh, come on. You don't even know what that means?"

He laughed, happy to be able to do so, and shook his head.

"It means goodbye."

"Well au revoir." Zack knew he probably butchered the pronunciation but the teacher didn't seem to care. She just simply, silently, slipped back into her class.

Despite his brief laugh Zack found himself spending most of his free block in the bathroom crying.

Damn it. This is what thirteen-year-old girls do when they think they're fat. I need to pull myself together.

He stood, dried his tears, and exited the bathroom.

I miss you Cody.

LINE HERE

The rest of the day and the rest of the classes passed by horrifyingly slowly. The hours were filled with note-less lectures and explaining his memory loss to even more nameless faces.

As if the stress of managing himself wasn't enough, twice he got shoved into a wall or door for no apparent reason. Zack had never been shoved before. He had been respected. This was almost too much to bear. The criminals simply sauntered away, unchallenged, laughing.

Zack almost cried. Almost. Still, he wouldn't allow himself any more tears.

But, at the end of the day, he grew the closest he had been to the verge of spilling droplets of saline water. It was then, at the last bell, that he realized how miserable he'd be for the rest of his life as this Zack Martin.

There was no way he'd be able to survive as who everyone knew him to be. He felt like an animal, ripped from its natural habitat, and placed on the other side of the world.

Cold and hungry, Zack's Zack was clawing his way out. His replies were getting more and more sarcastic and challenging. He was getting more and more separated and isolated. He began sulking to himself.

His sudden change in emotion was not lost on Zane or his other 'friends'. Those closest to him asked what was wrong and did their best to comfort him. It only made it worse.

The only way this could possibly be okay is if it all goes back to normal.

It didn't take long for his sulking to take its toll. Zack began shutting down almost instantly. He stopped listening and processing what he heard altogether. His mouth remained firmly shut, not to be opened. He had to be guided by Zane to the bus that would take him home – whatever that meant anymore.

Not understanding the comments being thrown at him from all sides, Zack was escorted to a seat towards the back. His friends, deflecting questions from all sides, took seats next to and in front of him.

They're all looking at me like I'm a freak. They think they know me, but they don't! They have no idea who I am! Every time they say "Zack!" they're calling a different person. How am I supposed to respond to that? I don't belong here. This isn't right.

I don't belong.

The bus fired up and began pulling away, trees whipping by through oddly clean windows. They made a few stops in a neighborhood before continuing on their way. They got closer and closer to the city. More and more traffic congested the roads. They were hardly moving now; the stop-and-go motions of the cars around them were giving Zack a headache. He had never been carsick before.

Am I supposed to be carsick? Is that who I am? I don't want this!

I DON'T WANT THIS SORRY EXCUSE FOR A STUPID FUCKING LIFE!

Zack tried to preoccupy himself – or hold back tears, one of the two – with looking out the windows. Buildings. People walking and on bikes and taking up space. They were going about their lives not knowing – not caring – who Zack Martin was.

I need you Cody. I can't live in this hell.

Out of the corner of his eye, a sparkle of blonde hair, a wink of unmistakably blue eyes. A reflection of himself.

Cody? Cody! CODY!

Zack felt his pulse rise as he studied the teenager more and more. His slim frame, his upright posture, the way he carried himself with an air of professionalism and poise.

Zack's eyes bulged, "Cody!"

His scream drew dozens of eyes.

Zack rapped with window with his fist hoping to catch Cody's attention. Again he screamed, "Cody!"

The hushed murmurs were starting. Two in the front turned to each other and laughed. Others simply giggled. The rest stared in confused silence, smiles threatening to betray their calm demeanor.

They're laughing at me. Screw them! Screw you all! Cody's out there! CODY!

He hit the window again to no avail.

Standing from his seat he charged down the isle of the moving bus. Zack could hear the driver tell him to sit. He could hear the pointed, directed laughter around him. It was making him dizzy.

Ungracefully he tripped over his own foot, backpack dropping, knees splitting on the treads in the floor.

More laughter.

He recovered quickly and darted down the isle. Like daggers he could feel the looks the kids around him were giving. Looks that said, 'Look at him, he's crazy.' Or, 'What's Zack doing? He never acts like this.' From a large, pimple-faced boy Zack even caught a, 'Holy, mother Mary. That little fuckface nerd has lost it!'

He fought with the bus driver for control of the door. He was too weak for the stronger man. Instead he lowered his shoulder and charged directly at the door shattering it to pieces.

The bus swerved, avoiding a car or a person, maybe both – some unseen obstacle.

Zack tumbled from the bus, colliding with the pavement. His backpack split open, unloading books and pages all over the busy street. The bus didn't stop; neither did the cars around him. An SUV nearly clipped his leg as he pulled himself, like a paraplegic, to the sidewalk. Pedestrians were gathering and talking and pointing.

Zack didn't care.

Head on a swivel, he sprinted towards where he had last seen Cody. Nearly a block ahead of him now, the blonde hair dipped and bobbed with the teen's happy-go-lucky gait.

"Cody!" Zack screamed but the white noise of the city around him engulfed his desperate cry. He tried to run but the foot traffic was too dense. "Cody!"

This time the blonde teen stopped for a second and looked around to investigate. Zack saw him shrug in a Cody-like way and continue walking.

More foot traffic. As if to purposefully impede his progress the traffic thickened. Zack was panting, now suffocating in the mass of bodies around him. His throat burned, eyes stung. When he emerged from the crowd, the blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy was gone.

Zack stood there, in the middle of Boston, ragged and tattered backpacking hanging off one shoulder, books spoiled and broken in the street behind him. He fell to his knees and began sobbing – right there – in the middle of Boston, where not a single soul stopped to ask if he was okay.

Cody!

He slammed his fists on the cement, knuckles splitting open, thick and crimson and boiling blood flowing out.

Cody I saw you. And when I called out to you, you heard me! You're real Cody! I knew I was right.

I knew you were

real!

The heat, coupled with his exhaustion and stress, was sending his mind spinning out of control. He passed out, darkness swallowing him up.

Right there.

In the middle of Boston.

A thank you to all my reviewers so far!

* tiger002, standingsingle, GeorgieM, Man of Faith, Twilight Archangel, kingdomheartsforevs, xAlL-tHiNgS-sUiTe-LiFe-RoCkSx, loveurlife, CraziiCookii *

You guys are all so awesome for reviewing and telling me how I'm doing with this, it means so much.