I couldn't tell if Drew Pawlikowski was yelling "You're weak, too" or "Your week two", because both would be very accurate statements.

                Yes, this was my second week at Braxton High School. Yes, I was too weak to struggle out of Drew's iron grasp.

                "Come on, Nolan. Impress me," Drew said, slamming me back up against the lockers again.

                "Would bleeding profusely from my mouth due to internal injuries from being repeatedly slammed against a solid surface count as impressive?" I asked.

                I was going to take that as a yes by the way he slammed me against the lockers again. Drew seemed to lose interest in me quickly though, as he checked his phone and finally dropped me.

                "I'm sure I'll be seeing you later," he said.

                "I'm sure I'll do my best to keep that from happening," I said, grabbing my bag and taking off down the hall before he could catch me again.

                I might not be strong, but I was fast. My parents used to call me the Invisible Boy because I was quick and quiet, good at going undetected when I wanted to. That was a skill I was learning to use a lot around Braxton.

                It was a private school with a good reputation for producing academic achievement. It suffered from a bullying problem, though. The classes were incredibly competitive to challenge students to do better, and while their grades got higher, so did their aggression.

                I was the new kid, so naturally I was the new target. Kids like Drew were trying to put me in my place before I became a problem.

                Not that I could see myself becoming a problem. I was smart, sure, but I was lazy as hell. I preferred to do the bare minimum and get grades that kept my college options open but didn't require me to put in hours of studying.

                As long as my grades were somewhere around high 80s to mid 90s, I was happy. I'd probably only have to endure this harassment until grade updates came out and everyone saw where they were in the school standing.

                I scurried into my classroom and Ana looked over at me. "Hey, you're running a little late, Nolan."

                "Drew found me and thought it was time I was properly introduced to the lockers," I said, dropping into my seat.

                "Oh, bad lot," she said, sitting next to me. "He still doesn't like you?"

                "I know. I'm shocked too. I have a fantastic personality. And this smile with these dimples? Irresistible," I said. 

                Ana rolled her eyes. "How could anyone not fall in love with your modest self?"

                "It's a true mystery," I said.

                She turned to talk to the girl next to her and I folded my arms over my desk. It's not that I struggled to make friends or anything. I was a pretty social person for someone who used to be known as the Invisible Boy.

                It's just that I wasn't sure I considered any of these people to be actual friends. Acquaintances, definitely. People I sat with at lunch and walked to the parking lot with afterschool. People I joked around with in class and messaged about homework.

                But not people I hung out with outside of school. A few of them invited me to get dinner my first week here, but that was more out of pity for the new kid than anything.

                "Alright, alright, everyone settle down," the teacher called as he entered the room. He pulled up the board cover and gestured at the problems there. "Notebooks out. Get to work on these as a warm up."

                I pulled my notebook out and flipped open to a blank page, jotting down the problems. Teachers had been constantly calling me up to do problems on the board to test me and let other students see what I was capable of, which was only making the target on my back bigger.

                "Nolan?"

                I looked up at the teacher. "Yes, Mr. Hayes?"

                "Your academic counselor emailed me. She'd like to meet with you," Mr. Hayes said.

                "Damn, and I was looking forward to getting called up to answer questions in front of the class again," I said.

                Mr. Hayes smiled a little. "At least you know the drill by now. Go on. I already filled out a pass for you."

                He handed me the slip of paper and I packed up my things, leaving the room. My advisor told me as the weeks went on, she'd call me down to help me settle into a few different things. She'd told me she didn't want to do it all at once and overwhelm me.

                I made my way down to the academic office, going up to the secretary and signing in. She waited until I'd written down my information before checking it and heading back to the advisor's office.

                She came back out a moment later. "Mrs. Parisio will see you now."

                "Thanks." I moved past her and went to Mrs. Parisio's office, knocking and letting myself in.

                "Hi, Nolan," she greeted. "Take a seat. We have a few things to discuss."

                "Fantastic." I sat down across from her. "So, what are we discussing this time?"

                "Clubs," she said, typing on her computer. "Every student is required to join a club unless they have a valid excuse. If I remember correctly, you're unemployed and have no family members to look after outside of school. That means you get to join a club."

                "Lucky me," I said with a sigh. "What are my options?"

                "Limited," she said, eyes scanning the computer screen. "Most clubs fill up in the first week of school. All the sports clubs are filled, and so are most of the smaller ones. We have to limit them due to room capacity and teacher availability." She began typing again. "I thought you might like the debate club since you're very...outspoken. But even that one is full."

                "That's a shame," I said, frowning. "I like hearing myself talk."

                "It looks like your options are..." She clicked on something and read it over. "The math club, the Italian club, the economics club, and the dance club."

                I furrowed my brow. "I'm sure I'd look great dancing the salsa and crying in Italian as I calculate the future of the economy, but I'm not sure any of those clubs are exactly in my field."

                "I'm sorry, Nolan. You joined Braxton late, so most clubs are filled," she said. "There's nothing I can do. Unless..."

                She began typing again. Okay, okay, "unless" was good. Except if she meant "unless I can get you in the French club instead of the Italian club" because oh god all I knew was that Dexter's Lab scene where he seductively whispers "Omelette du fromage".

                "Okay, so I do have another option for you," she said.

                "Should I be excited or afraid?" I said.

                "It's the school's Social Action Club, or SAC for short. Normally the only official members are the planning committee, who recruit volunteers depending on the project they're working on. But I might be able to sign you in as part of the committee. I heard they got a little overwhelmed by all the planning last year," she said.

                "What do they do?" I asked. It certainly sounded better than me attempting to dance or speak Italian.

                "They do a lot of volunteer work. They raise money and awareness, complete projects around town, and help other parts of the country or other countries in general. They're a volunteer and community service group," she said. "They have a bit of an odd meeting pattern depending on what they're current objectives are, but you'd just help them figure out what they wanted to focus on, figure out the logistics behind projects, help set goals, and help recruit volunteers."

                I perked up a little. "I like doing volunteer work."

                "Perfect. I'll speak with their teacher advisor today and get you officially signed into the club," she said. "Their teacher advisor will email you their meeting schedule for the week."

                "Is it safe to get my hopes up about this?" I said.

                "Absolutely. I'm sure I can get you in. One more member should be all they need to handle the workload for the year," she said. "You can head back to class now. Let me write you a pass. Make sure to check your email between tonight and tomorrow."

                She filled out a pass and handed it to me. I thanked her and left her office, feeling relieved. A club where I just did volunteer work sounded fun. Thank god I didn't have to do math or learn or a new language or break my legs attempting to do a split.

                I went back to class and kept myself hidden most of the day so Drew couldn't find me. By the time school was over, I'd managed to evade him and the others and felt pretty proud of myself for it.

                Still, I locked my car the moment I was safely in it and checked my backseats to make sure no one was waiting there to ambush me. These kids took their academics way too seriously for my liking.

                I drove myself back to my Uncle's house and went inside, wondering if he was home. That question was answered almost immediately by the sound of crashing from the kitchen and the following string of curse words.

                "Things going well in here, Uncle Brian?" I said.

                "Oh- Hi Nolan," he said, looking over his shoulder at me. He was standing on a chair, the high cupboards open and their contents piled on the floor around Brian's chair.

                I knelt down and began picking up the things that had fallen out of the cupboards. "I'm officially a Braxton student, club membership and all."

                "What club did you join?" he asked, taking the stuff from me and shoving it back in the cupboards.

                "The Social Action Club," I said.

                "Oh, yea, that club. They set up all sorts of fundraisers and help out around town. Good kids. Sounds right up your alley." Brian shoved the cupboard doors closed, waited to make sure they wouldn't burst open, and climbed off the chair holding a container. "Look, I've got to head back to work. You're on your own for dinner tonight. I think there are some leftovers in the back of the fridge."

                "The leftovers you're about to put in that container?" I said.

                He frowned and smacked his palm to his forehead. "Oh, shit, right. Okay, no leftovers. Should be stuff to make a sandwich though. I'll make it up to you later, I promise. I've got to run, though."

                "Bye, Brian," I said as he packed away the leftovers and grabbed his car keys, hurrying out of the house.

                I sat down at the counter, shrugging out of the blazer I had on. Braxton required a uniform, though I looked damn good in it so I guess I couldn't complain too much. White button up, dark blazer, red and black stripped tie, and tan slacks. I looked like I was going to waltz in and buy out your business, ruin your marriage, and laugh heartily when accused of murdering my competitors.

                How professional I looked didn't put dinner on the table, though. I got up and grabbed the sandwich stuff, throwing together one and sitting down with it.

                I took out my phone as I ate, checking my school email. No word from my advisor or the teacher advisor of the Social Action Club yet.

                I shrugged it off and put my phone back in my pocket. At least now, the Social Action Club would help me make friends and give me something to do around town. Finally, my life around here could liven up a bit.

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A.N.- So here's the new story! I'm a little nervous about it since I'm still coming off my Conversion Academy high (I promise not all my stories will be like this, let me get it out of my system). Thanks to the members of NFJC squad who were there when I started talking about this idea and sparked it back to life

Let me know what you think so far!

Thanks to @maxgraybooks for the fantastic cover (and for saving my unartistic ass once again)!