James

I usually gave no crap about outfits- since I rarely left the house. And I never had the prospect of meeting girls in person.

And... Today I didn't care either. But Mom had brought me a bunch of Jackson's clothes- I picked a red soccer jersey and pulled it on over my long-sleeved black undershirt. I didn't notice what team it was or even where it was from, but there was some silver trim on the sleeves that looked kinda cool. 

I stuffed the three textbooks, my laptop that was covered in random hybrid animal stickers, and about forty notebooks into Jackson's backpack, but not everything fit, so I swapped it to mine. Not sure why I had one. It was dark gray with cartoon planets all over it. Probably a birthday gift from my aunt, Alex's mom. They were nice. I only remembered the nine year old version of Alex, though. 

Mom handed me a brand new dark blue hockey stick and shoved me out the door. Wasn't sure why I needed it.

I pulled out the list I'd made that morning.

Obstacle one: The bus. Not a typical ugly yellow one- But a fancy and sleek one with twelve double seats on each side. It was less like a district transportation bus and more like a public transportation bus- not to mention baggage compartments. The bus stop and arrival time wasn't school regulated, but one happened to be just outside of the neighborhood that made it all the way to two blocks from the school. 

As it pulled up to the stop just as I rounded the corner, about six kids climbed on, flashing bus passes. I gulped and followed- It was mostly empty, so I slumped on the passenger side seat six, ignoring the jolt from the force that made me wince. 

"Hey, guys," Someone shouted- a buff dude leaning over the back of my seat.  "It's Jackson, guys!"

"Huh?" I asked, clutching the hockey stick. "Who are you?"

"Captain of the PVS 15 hockey team- The fall one, anyway. But you'll be trying out in two weeks, huh, stealing my spot?"

I remembered my mom saying something about that. "Oh. Yeah. Um... What's your name?"

"Michael." Then his face turned serious. "And no one calls me Mike."

"Yeah, only his mom," A dark-skinned boy laughed, leaning from the seat in front of me. "Michael's good. We usually win about eighty percent of our games, and before him, we won seventy-five. But with you, we'll raise that eighty by about thirteen percent." 

Smart and athletic. I guess I was having to be like that too, though I didn't have a choice. (Note the smart was already happening) "You the team geek?" I asked weirdly, attempting to sound like Jackson. Not that our voices were different in the slightest, but our attitudes and tones were. 

It was Michaels turn to laugh. "Yeah. He's Adam, by the way. "

"Uh... Anyone on this bus I should know?" Also how to talk to girls?? 

"Oh, most people at this school are jerks. But some of the girls are cool, and all the nerds are kinda fun to mess with. Like... Austin over there." He jabbed his thumb at a blonde boy with glasses- He had a business-looking collared sweater and dark blue jeans, and he was doing something on his laptop. Michael tossed a fudge-dipped granola bar at him. 

Austin picked it up off the seat next to him and waved without looking up from his laptop. 

"Seems cool," I said casually. Michael nodded. 

"Minnie and Bella are dumb, and then there's Patrick. He doesn't ride this bus but all the girls have a crush on him. Except for the sensible ones, of course. This girl named Ana obviously likes me." Michael pointed to two girls two rows in front of me. One brunette with purple fade and the other blonde, both wearing way too much makeup. "Those two don't even go to our school, but they ride this bus just for the cute boys." Michael winked at Adam, who rolled his eyes. 

There were some adults sprinkled in the mix, looking annoyed that so many kids frequented this stop.

He leaned back in his seat- but he was so tall I could still clearly see his head. I was probably his height, but he was definitely bigger. More muscly. 

"What's your advisory?" I asked Adam and Michael. "And... You guys are in ninth, right?"

"Adam is in tenth, though he's our age. I have Mr. Albert. He's got some old lady that teaches English. Mrs. Wenkel?" 

Ugh, Jealous. Of Adam. 

Adam nodded. "And you, Jackson?"

I sighed. That was going to be hard to get used to, not wanting to say, "Actually, it's James." 

"Mrs. Bee." 

"Oh, she was a good teacher," Adam smiled. "But you better hide your face when the clock strikes eight- She always picks a random student to give a 'kindness card' at the end of class, and the next day they have to stand in front of the whole class and explain exactly what they did. Stuff like 'pick up any toilet paper in the bathroom' or 'clean up a mess at lunch.' My worst one told me to give Mr. Albert a massage- And he smells really bad."

I shuddered. "Will do." 

Michael slapped me on the back. "You're cooler than you seemed on youtube, buddy! Much less posh and full of yourself. Just a little league hockey player, haha."

Haha indeed. So not everyone loved Jackson's stupid face. 

That was when the bus stopped- And I saw the gigantic four-story school for the second time. Tall tinted windows at the end of each hallway, and balconies outside of each classroom excluding the first floor. 

The large front concrete staircase where I'd nearly tumbled onto Charlotte went up an entire story- and there was another huge one inside that led down to the first floor. 

Michael tapped me on the shoulder. "C'mon, buddy. I'll show you Mrs. Bee's room."

. . . . . . .

As I walked in, the chatter in the room quieted. Michael waved and left, so I just stood there kinda awkwardly in the front of the room. No teacher was in sight to usher me to a spot. 

"Jackson," a quiet voice said, and I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was Charlotte. Her blonde hair hung in the same thick loose braid it had a few days ago. "Didn't know you'd be here so soon."

"Yeah," I smiled. I knew Jackson would've probably made a comment about him coming early just for her, but he was an idiot and one should never trust an idiot. "So, uh... You in this advisory?"

That was a stupid question, I realized, as the words left my mouth. Of course, she was- And her slow nod a second later confirmed. 

Okay, now don't trust me either. 

"There's an empty seat in the second row, second to the right," Charlotte said. "Oh. And, my name is Charlotte."

"I know," I answered, then facepalmed. Mentally. "Sorry. That sounded super creepy. I... googled Avery Dasah." Gah. Okay. Dumb. Still super creepy. 

Charlotte looked at me weirdly but just shook her head. "Alright. See you." Then she turned and sat in the front row diagonal to where she'd said an empty seat was. I mentally smacked myself and sat down. 

Mrs. Bee then walked in. Her brown hair in a tight McGonnagal style bun, and a ruffled blouse with poufy sleeves you'd expect to see on a Disney princess. Square glasses and dark mauve lipstick made her look like the strictest teacher you'd ever have, but then her face lit up. "New student, everyone!"

She walked over to me, pulled me out of my chair, and shook my hand. 

And I learned exactly how enthusiastic Mrs. Bee could be. When she realized most people already knew Jackson aka 'me', she asked questions and even pulled up a video of 'me' playing hockey- And her expression when she saw herself sitting in the crowd was mildly funny. 

I guess little league hockey teams are obsessions for teachers these days. 

"Alright!" She smiled a kindergarten-teacher-worthy smile that said she was going to have a great time relaxing while we all took naps. Some people probably needed them. "Thank you, Jackson! And as you're new, I'll be giving you a kindness card today!" 

She pulled out a sticky note covered in duct tape- A hot pink strip of it- That read, 'hold the door open for someone.' Not too bad- I could do that. 

"Uh, It is his first day here," Someone laughed, "Maybe not blast it off with one of those hanging out of his backpack?" 

I looked back- It was the Minnie girl. I'd never seen her, but she was here. She just looked like the girl Michael had described. And she was looking straight at me. 

She also had brown hair, but long, silky, and light, slicked back into a high ponytail probably meant to copy Grande. But when I realized everyone else was still watching me and so was Mrs. Bee, waiting for my answer, I just blinked and said, "Uh, no, it's fine. I can hold a door open." 

And... Mrs. Bee gasped. "You're not supposed to tell anyone what you got!" 

I sighed. "I'm-"

"No, never mind. I'll just give you another one." And that was the moment she probably decided she didn't like me. 

And it wasn't even my fault! No one told me. Shows how irrational teachers can be. And I was starting to worry- My usual snappy attitude was fading away at school. People here were weird.  

My teacher handed me a new card. 

Oh, how wonderful. 'Carry someone's stuff for them.' The best idea for a new kid on their first day of school. 

And since Advisory was only like thirty minutes, and all the chatter and videos and questions from Mrs. Bee about my arrival had taken up most of the class, the bell rang the second I finished that thought and I was shuffled out of my chair and towards the door, my backpack still unopened and on my shoulders. 

In the hallway, Minnie squeezed her way towards me and smirked. "Wanna carry my backpack for me?" 

I raised an eyebrow. Now she was being weird. "What?" 

"Oh, I just recognize that card," She laughed, pointing to the yellow sticky note with still-hot pink duct tape around the middle. "I drew a little star in one of the corners once when I was bored. Anyway, what's your next class?" 

"Um-" 

"Thanks, Min, I'll take it from here," YET anOTHER voice interrupted. If people were this obsessed with Jackson I felt sorry for him... Though, he did love attention. So maybe not. 

Charlotte gave a half-smile as she passed me- But said quietly over her shoulder, "Just talk to me like a normal person," Then stopped, turned around, and grinned, "Hey!! Jackson! How was class?" 

I opened my mouth to let out a confused answer- But then I saw Patrick round the corner, and realized she was probably trying to get rid of him. So I clapped my hands together and answered, "Mrs. Bee is... interesting, huh? How long has she been teaching?" 

"Oh, uh," Her eyes narrowed as Patrick reached Minnie, who was two feet away from us, glowering at Charlotte- Then she grabbed my wrist and dragged me behind her. "I don't know, maybe five? What's your locker number?" 

"Um, 708?" 

"Ok. That's a few away from mine-" She switched to a whisper, "Thank you, Patrick's been really weird lately." We walked in silence for a minute, then Charlotte must've realized she was still holding on to my arm- She dropped it and a light pink blush settled across her cheeks for just a moment. 

"Right here," She mumbled, then added, almost as an afterthought- Like she was checking for something- "You know how locker combinations work, right?"- Like an afterthought. I was nervous to answer, but her stubborn gaze forced me. I wasn't sure if her expression meant she'd kill me if I said anything other than yes. 

But I needed to get the school issued textbooks from inside?

"Um, not really." 

Her expression darkened. "Oh. So you're still going to be that type." Then she turned around and walked away.

"What? Charlotte-"

She turned her head over her shoulder and rolled her eyes at me, then continued back the way she'd come.

"I don't know how!"