Date: 02/09/2013
Period: 01
Class: AP Psychology
It’s a big hall, around 100 people can sit in each room, but it’s entirely vertical instead of raised. The seats are all separate and in a straight line, two together in the middle, three together on either side. The Professor sits there with three textbooks on the table, smiling at the students as they walk in. The room is lit by the windows - large and formidable at the other end of the room. You’re allowed time to talk to your friends, introduce yourself. Most of the students are sitting in the 4th, 5th and 6th row, and the shorter students, and several students with glasses are sitting in the middle rows and the right hand corner. The left hand corner, besides the window, is getting filled up very fast, though if it’s too uneven at the start of class, students will be pulled from the back and made to sit in front.
The classroom is much, much bigger than any of the one’s she’d been in back home Kat decides quite quickly as she looks around from her seat. The décor is nice as well – all the modern-looking furniture placed symmetrically gave the room a clean and sophisticated look as opposed to just plain empty.
The sound seemed to carry throughout the room – even as she sat towards the back, she was able to hear pretty much everything that was being said by the students.
Shrugging to herself, Kat decides that maybe sitting on her own isn’t the best way to go about this. Her eyes are drawn to a few people dotted throughout the room who have yet to find a conversational partner, but finally come to rest on the hunched-over character in front of her, trying his best to hide from the sunlight outside.
Kat pulled her bag up beside her, shoving her books back inside before digging into another pocket. From there, she pulled out a small box of paracetamol and rose from her desk, slipping back around in front of it so she could take a seat next to the brown haired boy.
“Here.” She said, placing the box on the desk in front of him “Even the back of your head looks sick, mate.”
Robert took a seat, still disoriented from pretty much literally having just stepped off the bus and into the campus. All registration was already done in advance and a room was already assigned along with someone from the student council to show him where that room may be. All possessions his parents deemed necessary were shipped there in advance, waiting to be unpacked.
But first, he had to make it through ‘day zero’, or D-minus Zero as he liked to think of it. It was more prudent to get to know everyone around him and the situation than to worry about his own well-being, as such he was a walking-disaster, unkempt and with just a arm-load of notebooks and unsharpened pencils, and a single pen that actually worked… Behind him and to the right were the usual sort of students, preppies and intellectuals with time to spare, but nothing better to do with it than to get an early shot at a college-cred. But to the left were a few oddities… such as the shortest student he’d EVER seen in a college-level course… and he’d been taking these courses since freshman-year… Behind her was some guy that seemed allergic to sunlight, being pestered by a loud obnoxious girl with an accent.
He would’ve snorted in contempt, but the New-York sulphur in the air made deep breathing a bit more problematic for the first few hours, he unceremoniously unloaded his college-ruled note-papers onto the desk, thus clearly marking it as his territory, and sat down. He already knew he’d have to work with at least some of these people… best figure out which ones were least likely to shiv him and steal his work now instead of one hour before finals…
Getting to the room slightly early was both a blessing and a curse, a blessing in the he’d found a good seat by the window where he could wedge himself between the seat and the wall, leaving a good place to rest his head. The curse part was that there was a slight beam of sunlight breaking through near his face so he was stuck in a place of both comfort and disturbance. A quick glance around the room revealed that the majority of the people in the room so far seemed to be the more enthusiastic and straight-laced members of the school so he was in some illustrious company so far.
He had his laptop out on the desk, mindlessly tapping on the keys trying unsuccessfully to stave off the looming threat of boredom. He heard the sounds of someone moving into his row but paid little attention, his eyes blankly looking at the computer screen, his head feeling like it contained a thousand burning hot needles. He heard a girl’s voice, presumably from the higher pitch, offering him something and commenting on his general under-the-weather appearance.
Looking up he saw a girl he could pass as cute, standing next to him offering a box of what appeared to be paracetamol, a god-given cure for his current situation and a chance to regain something vaguely resembling life for the day. His befuddled brain, grindingly processing what was going on finally got the sense to recognise the voice as a somewhat homebound accent, that of his native Australia. The thought that maybe he wasn’t the only Australian at the school was a boon, maybe it wouldn’t be such a boring school after all. He gladly extended his hand, wincing slightly as the movement disturbed his precarious state and took the packet from her hand as he said “Cheers, it’s looking a bit touch and go right now, it certainly wasn’t this bad when I woke up.”
He quickly popped two tablets out of the packet and swallowed them with a sip of water, being somewhat careful as they went down to ensure that’s where they remained. He sealed the box up and handed it back to her saying in a rather gravelly voice “I’m Dylan Bryder by the way, just transferred in from Australia, judging by the accent you’re another export over here?”
Bella didn’t know why she chose that seat, she went to it almost as if the GPS drove her to it, but as she sat down and looked at it, the red dot that was her blipped as if in achievement of reaching it’s destination. She sighed, looking down. If this were her previous school, she’d be dancing right now. Dancing as though she had never danced before and would never dance again. She stood up after keeping her bag down, she liked carrying her books around, it made her feel more comfortable with herself, and looked around as she stood up, before pushing down her peacoat.
She caught it in time though as it slipped off her thin shoulders to the desk behind her. You couldn’t see the bones, well, not yet anyway, and she looked behind as the arm of the coat fell on the desk of the person behind her. She took it up quickly, making sure it caused no harm and then folded it into her bag. Folding big things into little things. She should write that on her resume because it was an art! It was then that she heard it, the conversation behind her, or the start of it. She turned to look at him, and understood what the fancy accent girl meant when she said he looked sick. Just then she received a message and then sighed.
“I told you I’ll be at practice in the evening. I’m cutting back to go to school.” She told her director.
There was a reply almost instantly, she was surprised to think how this man’s fingers worked. Yes but the show…
“If you don’t trust I can do it with the hours I am putting in, chose someone else. I’ve done Coppélia a thousand times, it’s easy.”
That’s why we want you, you’ve done it a hundred times. For different Directors. People will only understand my version of it when compared to that of…
He was rambling again. For God’s sake Jean, put yourself together! She wanted to yell at the man, he was always like this in New York, he wasn’t any better in Paris but New York gave him jitters. “I told you, I’m cutting back to go to school. Daddy had to call a lot of people to get me here and I want good grades.” She replied. “If you want me to come in earlier, come pick me up after school. 4PM sound good?”
But Bella just liked abusing him because he took it. It made her feel important. Much much more powerful. But she sighed. She wanted to be dancing not in a stupid task, and then she put her phone away. Looking up at the teacher. Jean’s non immediate reply meant he was happy with how things turned out. But she wasn’t. She had missed the chance to get into the conversation behind her – what could she have said anyway? And by the way the teacher looked at her, she knew he had caught her texting.
It was just then that she saw him, why the hell was he so tall? One of his parents must have been a great oak and the other an anorexic yeti. She had met tall dancers in her life, she had danced with them, she held her own against a 6”0’ Marcius in Swan Lake. But this guy seemed way taller than him and that was something she thought to be… impossible. She shrugged, feeling much closer to the ground and much off her high horse. She looked back at the teacher who grinned evilly.
Professor Wilke tried to keep smiling with all the students coming in, but once they had filtered in he stood up, surprised that there was silence after almost half an hour of just noise after noise. Most of them knew the rules, they had been there before, but he could see several new faces now, and he sighed louder, one with her face buried in the phone. As usual these children had no respect for anyone.
“Good Morning Students.” He started, “Welcome to St. Clarence High School.” Some of the students who knew him answered back, wished him the same, chipper than usual, but it was just the first day, they’d learn to hate him soon enough, he thought to himself a little jokingly. But more than the girl with the cellphone, what worried the Professor was the tall lanky boy, who looked as though he had just emptied the school supply. “Here you. Boy. Take your bag to one of the chairs back, and get only one book back. Sit next to this nice young lady here.” He said, pointing at Bella, “Both of you can help each other on your new day in school!”
Only when the boy sat next to her did he realize the err of his ways. He could barely see the little thing now, which would only encourage her to text more. But there was nothing he could do about it now, and he sighed going along, looking around the classroom, mumbling something about being “Roughed up during the journey to school!”
“I’m not going to bother with introductions today, I’ll get to know each and every one of you in my own way and telling me your names will not help me.” “Well.” He said, grinning “First off, write a little page about what you think of Psychology and why you took it!” He smiled as there was a flurry to get pages and pens out to finish the task he gave them!
Kat’s lips curled into a smile as the boy called Dylan handed her back the box and introduced himself. Though she didn’t know Dylan, it made her feel a lot better knowing that there was someone else here far away from home, though hearing the accent – or rather, lack of to hear ears, was somewhat of a surprise.
“Oh wow, didn’t expect anyone else from home to be here” she said sheepishly, running a hand through her hair.
“Not an unpleasant surprise though. My name’s Kat Watson, nice to meet you.”
She wanted to start up another conversation, but apparently the teacher had other plans. After a length introduction which left with nothing more than “write something about psychology”, Kat made a small, annoyed sound and reached back over to her bag, putting the box of paracetamol away and pulling out her books and binder once again.
Channelling her cynicism, Kat began to pour out onto paper EXACTLY what she thought of Psychology. Despite having picked the elective and having enjoy previous psychology classes, she couldn’t help but resist pointing out the underlying crude nature of the subject. Finding more personal amusement in discussing certain Freudian theories above anything else, Kat’s finally came to a rest. Quickly re-reading what she wrote, there was something of a second thought about if this was actually a good idea or not.
“Oh well.” She decided, now spinning her pen between her fingers “Hopefully this dude has a sense of humor”.
Rob fumed silently as he had to gather his loose notebooks, and move most of them to the back of the class in perhaps the most public humiliation a teacher can bestow upon a student, and took a single notepad and pen to the desk beside the short dancer. He felt like blaming someone for this decision, but there wasn’t anyone left to blame besides himself.
The student he’d been placed besides was young, this much he was now certain of. She was new here, and rather well-financed judging by how her eyes were secretly glued to the smartphone hidden in her lap. How she delicately hid the thick woolen pea-coat was an impressive slight-of-hand he hadn’t seen very often, usually only learned later out of necessity rather than by an early whim.
He leaned back in his chair as he silently contemplated how to respond to the professor's question, his notebook conspicuously remained closed on his desk. Robert never studied for exams, he believed he either learned his lessons well enough to know them forever, or hadn’t learned anything at all yet. He then glanced back at the new student, genuinely curious why a freshman actually wanted to tackle such a difficult course so early.
After counting all one hundred and twenty-two ceiling-tiles, Rob sighed and opened his notebook, then whispered aside to the freshman “So why are you taking this course?”
“I didn’t think I’d meet another Aussie over here either, apparently there’s was something wrong with the crowd I was with back in my Perth school so instead I got flung across to this side of the world to some fancy school. Parents, hey?” he said jestingly to the girl before he was somewhat rudely interrupted a flying jacket sleeve sliding across his desk before suddenly disappearing where it’d come from, one second it was there the next it was gone. Trying to focus on the quick movement made his head spin and he did his best to stay upright. He looked up again to see the teacher dressing down some lanky fuck for bringing too many books nearly causing Dylan to laugh. What a teacher, somehow he got the feeling the tall guy wouldn’t be happy about it and just to make it worse he was made to sit down next to the girl in front of him who barely looked like she’d hit puberty.
Great now he had some skin and bone skyscraper blocking his view, although on a positive note he could now hide from the guy’s view somewhat easier. He slid a little further down into his chair, allowing the guy’s somewhat greasy hair to block the teacher from view, creating the perfect education situation for his current predicament.
He was then asked to write down their perception of psychology onto a piece of paper. Taking a few seconds to think about it, he scribbled down some notes about human mentality and where it could be exploited. “I hope he does too, it’ll make this class somewhat more easily” he said to Kat while idly playing with the sheet of paper.
Pree: Bella wasn’t sure what to write, but by the time she got her book out and began digging for her pen, she realized she didn’t have one. It was just then that Agnes’ voice floated back into her head, “Well, I’m going to have you talk to a student today, and that’s when you’ll think of me.” She forgot to pack her writing things! How could she?! This was more than humiliating. She took her cell out as the big boy sat next to her, and then put her cell back inside, sitting up right looking at the teacher as if he had shot her dog.
Why her? Why HIM? Why was he so tall? She pouted at him, glaring a little but stopping and looking back at her sheet of paper, staring and then looking at the empty page of the boy next to her. She turned to him and then looked up, wondering what he was looking at. She hoped it wasn’t a spider, she hated spiders. She sighed and then listened more to the conversation between the two behind her.
They said words funnily, and it was fancy but it made her giggle. Kat Watson, that was the girl’s name though she hadn’t gotten a good look of her as yet. She then sighed, stretching her legs, feeling a bit caved in with a big tall rock standing next to her. Or, sitting more like it. Aussie? Were they Australians? She was at the Sydney Opera House once, she performed several shows there! She was about to turn around and join the conversation, when she decided against it. Talking was never a necessity in ballet school, there was always sound, music, and dance, and that eye contact, a gentle brush of the hand was enough to convey more than words could. Once she sat there helping a girl put her shoes on, best girl she’d ever met, they never spoke a word!
That’s when the boy asked her the question, making her jump. He sounded nice. “Ello.” She told him, before she realized there was a question. “Because this is a college credit course!” She answered, “I’m hoping to get into a good college and study hard and become a college graduate!” Of course if she was dancing right now, she wouldn’t have that, that would be a more non achievable back up plan and she’d have to retire by 30. She shivered a bit herself, as she remembered as a young one, making fun of all these ‘old people’ coming to dance.
And she never wanted to dance again. Not after the last production, the one that her dad directed.
But she couldn’t get out of it entirely, too many questions, too much requests, the stardom – the fame. Her friend told her she wouldn’t last six months in this life. This was her prime and she was already doing so well. “Do. You. Um. Pen?” She asked the boy next to her softly. What the hell would she write on this page? She didn’t know one thing about Psychology. She just randomly took courses that had AP in front of them and seemed easy.
Rob smiled, and produced his only working writing utensil. “Afraid I’ve only got one.” He paused, then gently lead his pen on her desk. He wondered what she thought of him, and resumed gazing at the ceiling, floor, the irritated teacher, the tops of the windows, then let his sight settle on the desks by the window; including the students in those desks.
He could make-out her features plainly. She was young and short, but the freckles told a tale of living out in the sun. Not just in good weather, but actually living most of her life under bright lights. So he decided to take a poke in the dark and ask another question: “Do you happen to know any good parks?”
Kat chuckled and nodded in reply, leaning back in her chair and stretching. She couldn’t believe it, but up until now she had failed to notice the miss-matched pair sitting in front of Kat and her new acquaintance. It would be boring for her to just label them as boy and girl, but in reality their heights completely contrasted one another to the point of it being ridiculous. Next to her, she looked like a hobbit, and while she was sitting next to him, he looked like the illegitimate child of slenderman. She felt for Dylan though, having to sit directly behind the tallest guy in class. That feeling left quite quickly as she saw him sink down further into his seat, effectively making him invisible to the teacher at the front.
“Sooo…” Kat began, folding her arms behind her head “Which class are you in? Actually, how the hell do these class things actually work? I…I think I’m a Sophomore?”
Kat shook her head with a sigh.
“Just couldn’t make it easy for everyone and have year 10,11, and 12 or something could they, instead of screwing around with ‘Freshmen’ and ‘Sophomore’?” she continued nonchalantly, taking the time to gaze out the window.
As dull as it was to talk about the weather, Kat couldn’t help but take the slowly darkening skies into account. Perhaps she should have worn her winter uniform today like she was supposed to, although the calling to wear a vest had apparently been too strong for her to deny at the time.
When the president of the student council requested special dispensation for the student council to attend some sort of emergency meeting, it always made Spencer spend more time wondering in trepidation rather than actually walking towards the council room. She reckoned that the president must have read the year-end student council editorial in the St. Clarence Herald.
Announcing that Spencer was a girl was done in the lowest key way possible. On the eve of the final texts heading to the press, she added the line “And Spencer Bishop is actually female. But she does not mind all those Valentine Day chocolates girls give her.” into the final text.
The first thing she noticed when she stepped into the council room was the President, seated down at a large round table and peering over a photo. Peering, perhaps, was an understated word, considering the beads of sweat rolling down the face of the waif of a president.
The girl shot a glare towards Spencer that could cut down trees. A chill went down Spencer’s spine, but she held her ground and her expression.
“You mention this in an editorial like that but not to any of us?!”
Spencer forced a pathetic smile. This probably wasn’t the reason that Lisa called the council into meeting, but it shocked her all the same.
“Sorry,” was all Spencer could say.
Lisa clenched her teeth and shook her head furiously, as if to shake the thought out of her head. As Spencer took a seat beside the round council table, she noticed the rest of the council members. Especially Charlie, the miniscule black-haired council member that could be mistaken for a middle school kid. It was hard not to notice him when he was glaring just as hard as Lisa was.
“You’re taller than me. How the hell is that even possible?!”
Spencer straightened out her tie and smiled weakly at Charlie.