"You don't even know what you're talking about! Flash could totally beat Superman in a race!"

"Superman could just beat him up! The race would be finished by then."

"But that's against the rules!"

Jesse signed heavily as he unwillingly listened to the conversation of the two geeks seated in front of him. They had been talking the whole ride, and not to mention that the girl seated behind him was blasting screamo so loud he could hear it himself. It would be a wonder if she didn't go deaf by the time they reached the facility. He banged his head on the back of the geeks' seat over and over, the repetitive thudding helping him to stay calm, but they continued on as if they didn't feel a thing. In the background he could hear the chatter and giggles of his new school's peppy cheerleaders, and it made him want to cut his own ears out with a dull knife. If only his father hadn't taken his cellphone away, and for such a stupid reason. It would at least give him something less irritating to listen to. "Superman can fly," Jesse mumbled, staring down at his lap. "Therefore it's an unfair race."

One of the geeks twisted in his seat to stare back at him. "You're not even into comics, Jesse Silk," the geek said suspiciously. "Your parents pay the teachers to raise your grades. What would [i]you[/i] know anyway?" 

Jesse felt his blood begin to boil. He pictured himself winding back and letting a punch go right into the geek's face, breaking his nose and knocking off those stupid glasses. Just the image of it satisfied him. As he opened his mouth to say something smart back, a jump out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. Whatever had happened, he had missed it, but the students that had seen it were laughing, and the boy seated across the aisle had a bit of water running down his clothes. "Never mind it was just a tree," said the culprit, and Jesse's eyes moved to rest on Saxon's mischievous face. 

"What a clown," he mumbled, snarling at him. He knew Saxon, it seemed like the jokester had some popularity, but not much in Jesse's opinion. Jesse turned to look out the window. "Can't even sit quiet for an hour without trying to get attention," he said to himself. "Great Jesse, you're surrounded by a bunch of losers." In the window, he could see the reflection of the girl behind him, Alvira. The crazy girl. Another clown, just like Saxon. 

Jesse exhaled loudly and groaned, just as the dull-looking building came into sight. Before the bus even managed to stop, students were already rushing to get off. Jesse grabbed his backpack which had taken up the seat beside him--due to the fact that no one wished to sit with him, which didn't really surprise him--and slung it on. He stood, wearing dark slacks, a white long-sleeved button-down shirt, and a golden colored vest. Even though he hated this kind of attire, Jesse always prided himself on dressing well. As the teacher began reading off the groups, the realization of exactly all who were in his group sickened him. Jesse figured that as long as he kept his mouth shut the day would go by smoothly, but he couldn't promise that. He just hoped Dante didn't try to start something with him. 

Jesse waited for Saxon and Alvira to pass him by. His eyes caught onto a face that had piqued his interest: Terraline Gray. Her dress was as bland as her personality, but Jesse had imagined himself talking to her. He found himself mildly interested in her; for her to be so quiet, she [i]had[/i] to be hiding something interesting. Another female in his group, Penelope--he refused to call her 'Pen'--had already gotten outside. Penelope, such a pretty name for such a boyish girl. Jesse knew that if he had a sister, his father would never let her dress like that. And now here he was, in a group with Penelope Galloway, bland Terraline Gray, crazy Alvira, Dante-wannabe-MMA-what's-his-face, and Saxon, whom he knew would irritate him to the very depths of his soul. What were the odds?

After most had exited the bus, Jesse felt it was his turn to leave. He eased pass Mrs. Fliss like a ghost, as she lectured a red-haired boy about still being on the bus. He met eyes with the bus driver as he descended the few stairs, communicating a silent message of pity to the poor man. How much did he get paid for this? Surely not enough. The air felt good on Jesse's skin and his eyes landed on Penelope first. He sauntered over quietly, taking a peek at Alvira's zoned-out eyes, once again feeling a lurch of sickness. This trip would surely be Hell.