A/\/ Hey look! I'm here again. Hmm lotsa time during summer to write ^.~ btw, thanks for the reviews. All authors appreciate reviews. :P yea, yea, who cares about an's when you can read the story… Oh...disclaimer stuff: its mine all mine!

Seemingly Alone – 3

I finally made it to the locker room without any other interruptions. That's a blessing. Two people in one day, I should start bringing pads for all the times I bang into walls and maybe a cushion for all the times I fall on the floor. No matter, I still have about an hour before my second class. I put on my Matthewe's High tank top and their matching shorts. I really don't know who came up with the design, but really, does anyone think an enlarged rat is remotely frightening or aggressive? I sure don't. Anyway, on the front of the mostly white shirt, there's this big gray rat head with luminous red eyes (at least that's cool) and its two yellow buck teeth; one seemingly pointy and sharp and the other broken, jagged, and not tenuously terrifying. Oh well, at least our logo's cool. You see, on the back of the shirt, there is the other half of the rat, sinuous tail curving slightly towards the right shoulder blade. Atop this image are the words: We don't give a rat's and below: about you! (i.e. We don't give a rat's ass about you :P ) I'm not sure if that is really allowed in school, however, they don't say any bad words, just imply them and it makes up for the bad mascot.

The shorts are a dark navy blue and made up of nylon and polyester – they don't cling and feel decent when you're running or playing sports. On both sides, there is a vertical white stripe that runs the length of the shorts, kind of giving you a guide to keep them on straight and twist-free. Also, in the lower corner of the left leg, the initials 'MH' are printed in white on the side of our sleeping mascot. It's not much compared to some of our competitive schools like Skeltings, but it's enough to call our own.

I leaned down and put my palms on the ground, trying to ease my already overused muscles. Ahh, at least stretching does a body good. I proceeded on with my other warm-up exercises and jogged out of the locker room. Man was I gonna be sore when I got home. Because our school was rather large, we had several fields for soccer, baseball, and football as well as outdoor courts for those who wanted to play basketball – all in all a fair workout for a runner. When I reached the corner of the basketball courts I started running, not fast, but still a run. After going like this for nearly twenty minutes, I slowed to a stop at a somewhat thick copse of trees behind the school. I heard a slight rustle on the far side opposite me and held my breath to listen better. I could tell two people were talking but could only make out snatches of their conversation.

"Did you bring it?"

A rough deep voice that sounded oddly familiar was obviously inquiring about something. I stepped a few paces closer and took a new lungful of air. I supposed this conversation was not meant to be heard by any passersby, but who could give up this kind of spying?

"Didn't Casey tell you…Friday…Sanders gang..."

Man, I wish I could of heard that whole thing. Hehe, lots of juicy information I could use for blackmail.

"What?! Better get…meet me tonight with…or you and Casey both…front of school 11 o'clock…did you hear that?"

Oops, in my eagerness to listen, I took another step forward and must of stepped on some dead leaves or something. Heh, hope they don't look for me. They stopped talking for a few minutes, obviously trying to listen for people, well me. I stood still, not a muscle twitching.

"Nah man, must have been a bird or something. Lets…someone finds us."

"…anyone…you're dead"

The voices were fading away. That was my first clue that something in this school was amiss. Some guy wanted evidently wanted something – probably illegal, and something happened so the other dude couldn't deliver it. Something about a gang and Friday and apparently the first guy was gonna meet up with the other dude tonight at eleven. Maybe I could bust up their party? I checked my watch "Aww, crap." I only had ten minutes before Science started and I still needed to change. I took off as fast as I could for the locker rooms almost tripping on a stray branch. I made it with five minutes to spare. After I changed I stood with my hands on my knees in the desolate area, trying to replace the Carbon Dioxide in my blood with refreshing Oxygen. At last I could stand straight, albeit the stitch in my side. Barely in time too, for the bell had just rang.

As I made my way to my locker to grab my science folder and book several people seemed to go out of their way to 'bump' my shoulder. Every time this occurred, my shoulder (whichever one was hit) would be thrown back, almost tripping me. Ever seen a high school with one hallway and two thousand kids? It's also known as a raucous uncontrollable mob. While you walk one way, it seems as if the entire stream of people is going the opposite, making it entirely impossible to A. see where you are going, and B. avoid getting hit by people that don't like you. At last, I made it to my locker unscathed. * cough cough * Well at least none of my bones are broken…I think.

When I reached my locker I found that someone had already gotten there first – there was an unmistakable "CM" in red spray paint decorating the front of it. I yawned, nothing new. Except this time he left me a letter.

If I ever hear that you've messed around with my girlfriend again, I'm going to kill you.


Gee, I wonder if he'd really kill his own sister. You know, I wouldn't even be surprised if he forgot – I've been gone for so long and all. Hmm, messed with his girlfriend? Hell, she was the one who messed with me. This was going to be a long day. I grabbed my science book and a random folder – who pays attention in science anyway?

I took a breath, if I was going back into that torrent of teenagers, I was going to need it. I tried to stay out that deluge of people, but of course, there were others getting stuff from their lockers forcing me to brave a flood. Once again I lunged into the crowd, a sea of arms, torsos, and bobbing heads.

"Ow." That was my arm.

"Ouch." That was my foot.

And so on it went. I marveled at how some friends were able to talk to each other amidst the current and babbling of other people. I didn't think I'd be able to. As I strolled, more like bumped, along, I could almost feel the heat of glares sent my way. Funny, 'cause I couldn't figure out what I did to make anyone want to glare at me. Maybe I just lived. I guess that's how the popular people around here got their food, preying on the poor unsuspecting actually intelligent people while their dim-witted brains took five minutes before they understood one of our subtle insults. But that's high school life for you. There's the populars, however, in the negative connotation we like to call them preps, and everyone else. You could almost compare the situation to the medieval times. We, being the general populace would be known as commoners, the preps – nobles, and of course our very own King Claye and Queen Lana. Sound sickening? It does to me.

Ah, finally, a place to sit. I meandered my way to the back of the classroom and sat down. I was glad Mrs. Lang didn't have a specific seating arrangement – I don't think I could live sitting in the front. Over the course of a few minutes, most the rest of the class had ambled in and found spots for themselves and their friends. I wondered where Emily was. See, she's one of those acquaintances I have – I don't know her well enough to hang out around her, but at least she's someone to talk to in class. She's not a straight out prep, but she tries to be. That's probably where she picked up the surname 'poser.' Even I know she can't fit the image; she would rather stay home and study then go to a party and have real fun. I didn't envy her, I'd be off my ass and at the party before anyone could even suggest studying. But she was one of those people who actually liked sitting in the front paying attention and listening to stuff she already knew.

The bell finally rang again and its irritating clang reverberated within the walls of one's very mind. I swear, if I had a choice, I'd put a soundproof block on my head just so my brain wouldn't have to endure such pain.

Naturally, just as Mrs. Lang stood up to take roll and explain a fun, * cough yea right cough * new lesson, Claye strolled right in along with his brand new crony our beloved Jake. Seems like he warmed right up to our dense 'ruler.'

"Claye, you're late again."

That was Mrs. Lang, she's pretty cool when it comes to punishing Claye, but I'm sure the principle or someone told her to back off or lose her job. I wonder, was that the money talking? Despite all that, she still had the common sense to give him a detention, go Mrs. Lang!

"I was showin the new kid around."

"I'm sure, you must be Jake Carlson then?"

Jake looked annoyed. I wonder how much bullshit Claye was able to feed to him about this school and their teachers.


Ouch. That was some pretty short language.

"Would you mind telling this class a bit about yourself?"


Geez, what did Claye do to him? He sounded like he was going to blow his top any second now. Mrs. Lang didn't look too pleased. Maybe she was thinking the same thing as me.

"Well guess what, you can do it anyway."

Claye had already sat down and shoved an unsuspecting being out of their seat to supposedly make room for his new friend. He was smirking, uh oh. I wasn't so sure I made a good idea in introducing Jake to Claye. I mean, he looks livid and all the teacher did was talk to him in a civil manner. Jake rolled his eyes and strode to the center of the classroom.

"My name is Jake, and that (he pointed to me) is a disgrace to mankind."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe that's because I'm not a man."

He shifted his eyes over to Claye who gave him an affirmative nod, I'm glad I have peripheral vision.

"Who could tell?"

There were a lot of ohhh, burn's in the class but I ignored them.

"Obviously not someone who's been blind to the world for their whole life."

"And what do you mean by that?"

I do think Mrs. Lang enjoyed our exchange because she wasn't doing anything to stop it.

"Ever been to a public school before this, Jake?"

But I guess she didn't like it anymore.

"C.J, that's enough, Jake go sit next Claye and no more smart remarks or you're going to get a detention. That goes for you as well, CJ."

I gave her a look that plainly said, "He started it." Apparently she didn't really care.

"I didn't think this class would be so rowdy in the morning."

She was of course eyeing Claye, Jake, and myself.

"Anyway, I've scheduled this class to go on a field trip. Because we just got through the intricates of biology, I thought a week in the wilderness would be suitable."

All of the cheers just died. A survival trip? I'm not sure the preps could handle this one. Heh, they'd probably break one of their manicured nails and be sent home crying. Ah, here's one now.

"You mean like, a survival thing?"

"Well, yes. It's a designated camp within the country."

"So we'll have cabins and food and stuff right?"

These people lived some sheltered lives.

"That depends."

What the hell did she mean by that?

"You'll be getting all the information you need within the week. Now, I believe we had a lesson to learn?"

She never accepted questions on other things when she was teaching a lesson. It was her way of saying 'subject closed.'

When the bell rang an hour later I was blessed with the thought: lunch.

A/\/ Sorry, I know its not very long and I meant to get it up yesterday…but things to do people to see, you know the drill. I'll try and get the next chap. up today, but no guarantee's…thanks for reading : )