Brrrrriiiiinnnngggg!

The sound of the school bell echoes along the empty halls of Mayfield High School.

I let out a groan as I jog to my first class, Pre AP Pre Calculus. I'm so gonna be late for my first class on the first day of my junior year in high school. It's not even my fault either!
    
Well... it might be. Maybe if I came to school earlier to be sure my schedule was ready, I wouldn't be late. Especially since this happens to me every single year since the fifth grade in middle school.

Every single first day of school I come and the admission office never has my schedule ready! I don't know why this always happens to me, I don't think I've heard of it happening to anyone else.

By the time I make it outside my first period class I'm out of breath and try to catch my bearings. I spot a drinking fountain a couple doors down when I look up.

     "Well, I'm already late," I say out loud as I walk to the drinking fountain.

     I go back to the door and hesitate to knock on it. I always feel so anxious when I'm late, especially because I know once I walk in every head is going to turn towards me and their eyes will follow me as I struggle to find a seat. If there's a seat.

     I start to scratch my arm, a nervous tick I developed since I was eight. I take a deep breath, pushing past my anxiety and knock on the door.

     The teacher on the other side stops talking and makes their way to the door. When she opens the door she smiles a welcoming smile to me and some of my nerves evaporate.

     "Hi Hun," she says in a southern accent. "I'm Mrs Keller and who are you?"

     "Marlee Jones," I reply lowly.

     "Ah! Miss Marlee Jones," Mrs Keller says in recognition. "I'll mark you as present! I already assigned seats and yours is gonna be here."

     Mrs Keller leads me to my seat between Madison James and Kyle Kemp. When there's alphabetical assigned seats in class I typically sit between them. I let out a sign of relief since I don't have to find a seat on my own.

     Mrs Keller goes to her desk and walks back with a sheet of paper labeled "About Me". The first sentence on the sheet reads, "My favorite subject in school is..."

     "Just fill out this sheet and write a one page essay about what you know about math, at the end of class turn both sheets in please," Mrs Keller says politely before walking back to her desk.

     I instantly like her.

     Three classes later and I'm walking to my locker to put up a few of my textbooks when what feels like a brick wall slams into me. I lose my footing and fall hard on my butt, while my textbooks scatter along the floor.

     I look up to see none other than Tyrell Brown standing over me scowling.

"Watch where you're going, jungle hair," he says looking down at me.

     I don't reply, I just look across the floor at my textbooks. As I reach for my Pre Calculus textbook another hand beats me to it.

"You ran into her, you should just say sorry instead of being an Asshole," Levi Parker says as he picks my books up and puts them in one of his arms. He uses his other hand to reach out to me to help me stand up. I hesitate before grabbing his hand and letting him pick me up to my feet.

"I was just messing around, LP," Tyrell grins at Levi.

"It didn't look that way to me," Levi stands at his full height as he looks down to Tyrell. Levi is at least four inches taller than Tyrell.

"Well I was," Tyrell scoffs and starts to walk off. "My bad though," he says over his shoulder.

     "Sorry about him," Levi looks at me. "I'll try to talk to him later when we have football practice. I'll get him to apologize to you."

     "Good luck with that," I whisper looking at my scuffed up white converse shoes that I've had since starting high school.

     Levi chuckles as he adjusts my books in his arms. "I've been friends with him since I've moved here, I'll talk some sense into him."

"At that point it wouldn't be genuine and I won't want an apology from him," I say softly. "I can take my books off your hands. Thank you for your help. I appreciate it."

"Let me carry them for you as an apology for my friend. Where are you headed?"

"You don't have to do that," I say as I reach for my books.

Levi holds my books out of my reach and says, "I insist."

Looking at him I know he's not going to back down so I fold.

     "I'm headed to my locker," I say, leading him there.

     Neither of us talk as we walk to my locker. Nor as he helps me put my textbooks away. Even with my head down I can tell all eyes have been on us since Levi helped me pick up my books.

"Thank you for your help," I say again, glancing at him.

     "You're welcome," he grins at me though the grin doesn't reach his eyes.

"See you later I g-guess," I stutter at the end and curse myself for doing so.

     "See ya!"

     I begin walking to my homeroom class and I can feel his presence behind me the whole time. I don't dare look back to him or say anything. Surely once I reach my class he'll stop following me. Yet when I walk into my class he walks in as well.

     I quickly find a seat in front of the classroom near a window and sit there. Levi sits behind me.

     I guess we have the same homeroom again this year, but he's never sat near me before. Then again there aren't too many other seats left since there's less than a minute until the bell rings.

     Our homeroom teacher this year is also the football team coach and my AP US History teacher. I had him my second period as well and his name is Coach Hall, though some students pronounce his name Coach "Hell" behind his back because he's very strict and is known to curse out a student or two for misbehavior.

"There won't be assigned seats in here," Coach Hall says while tossing a squishy ball painted as a globe between his beefy hands. "Y'all are nearly grown and I expect you to be capable of picking your own seats unless proven otherwise. If anyone disrupts the class I'll assign the disruptor a seat. There are no plans for today, so instead you may read a book or work on homework. No phones! If I see a fucking phone in any of your hands I'll have you do forty push ups or you'll have two week of detention."

     Thus why he's called Coach Hell behind his back, I muse in my head.

     There's a shuffle around the room as most students take homework out of their bags to work on. Four students asked for a pass to go to the library to get books. One student, Micheal Ricotta, never came back after "going to the library" and I don't wanna know what punishment Coach Hell- I mean Hall- will come up with. Knowing what I know about Micheal, or as some kids call him "Cheese" because of his last name, he likely went to the bathroom to get high.

     Since I have the time I take out my composition notebook I've had since Freshman year labeled "Marlee's Journal" in my big bubbly handwriting and begin to write another journal entry.

     I look around inconspicuously before blocking my notebook with one arm from any possible onlookers as I write in it.

     I labeled the entry "Levi Parker."