August 18th, 2015 The sound of a loud radio woke Jake up. His hand stumbled to find the snooze button, and he gave it a firm push. He got up, got his Bad Religion shirt (the one with the notorious "crossbuster" symbol), some jeans, and a pair of boxers. He went to the bathroom to take a shower. His mind was racing with thoughts. A brand new house in my name, huh. My mom must've seen this coming, since all the money came from her savings. Jake got out of his shower and dried off. The now legally emancipated man got dressed, and turned on the TV to provide some background noise. He went to the kitchen and started to mame breakfast. After making a large omelete, he checked the time. 5:30 A.M. He had plenty of time. He ate his meal, and went back to the bathroom to brush his teeth. It was the little self-care things that got him, even though he never got cavities. After finishing that up, he checked the time. "I gotta get going." He grabbed two bottles of water, some Pop-Tarts, and put them into his backpack. He then grabbed the keys to his 1996 Chevrolet Camaro, and got into his car. He turned the ignition, and plugged in his phone to the auxiliary port. Heavy metal played through the speakers as he drove to school.

Merle sat up, thinking about school. High school. This was going to be different. Her grades were great and she was good with her bass. Merle put on her black dress and cat hoodie, brushing her black hair out of her green eyes. As Merle left her room, she looked at her electric bass. She grabbed breakfast and ate it, not talking to her family. Once done with her breakfast, Merle found that it was time for her to leave for school. Merle's stomach twisted with anticipation. She didn't want to be picked on this year, but her scrawny demeanor, young age, and good grades, would make that hard.

Nadia went out of her new home a little nervously. She was wearing casual clothes and she felt nervous and a little strange as she was used to wearing school uniforms. She started to hurry off to her new school, looking around at the towering people around her. Hopefully no one will think that she didn't look 16. After asking for directions a couple of times, she finally reached her new school, Brewster high. She went into the school building, looking around the place for awhile. Nadia remembered being told to go straight to the school office to get her schedule and she looked around for it. Before she knew it, she was lost. Looking around she saw a student nearby and went up to the student. "Uhm, excuse me, do you know where the school office is?" She asked politely.

A hard rapping hit the wooden door of Isabella's room. "Isaaa" her mother called through the locked door, the sound of the woman's ring hitting hard rumbled through the apartment. "Isabella, you're going to be late." Isa groaned from the other end. She was face planted in her pillow. Her bare, slender leg peeked from out the covers, as a sign of ignition. "I am never late." she moaned, starting to lift herself up and slide out of the bed, her feet hitting the hard wood softly. Unlocking the door, Isa was met face to face with her mother. "Morning'" she chirped, coming out of the room with nothing but a tee shirt and panties on. "Isabella!" her mother gasped, her daughter's attire not appropriate for the eyes of her newest step-father. It didn't phase her. Getting into the bathroom she did her normal routine of the usual sanitation check list and some of the more cosmetic things; such as hair and makeup. She didn't over do it, but red lipstick was an essential for survival. Getting dressed after her shower, she adorned herself with a baseball style red lightweight cotton tee, a pair of black pegged jeans, booties, and a red bandanna wrapped around her mass of light brown hair. If you couldn't tell, she really loves the color red. "You really should eat breakfast." her stepfather said as she picked up her coat and backpack. "I'm fine." Isa commented, not getting to invested in the conversation. She had a long walk ahead of her after all. She turned the knob to leave the apartment, but stopped mid opening- suddenly remember she was missing something. Her favorite necklace, an apple core. Slipping it on over her head, she made her dash right back out the door, down the stairs, and out onto the street- heading to Brewster for her first day back. She had been attending only for a year now, but that pretty long as far as high schools went for Isa. Arriving not too long later, she went on the quest to find her locker this year. The information had been sent out in the mail a few days ago, listing her schedule, locker room, homeroom teacher, and information about her enrollment there. Finding her locker in the midst of the juniors, she gave a shot at trying to opening it the first time- infamously the hardest time.

As the sunlight protruded through the curtains and crawled up to Brad's bed, the young man was still sound asleep. He partied the night before in total disregard for the first day of school, celebrating the last day of summer with his best friends. The room was fuggy and reeking of alcohol. The smelly socks and sweaty t-shirts lying around the room and a half eaten pizza from last week didn't help either. Surely enough, he even forgot to set the alarm. Luckily, his mother knows her Brad's bad habits and decided to wake him up personally. The stumping of her feet as she climbed the stairs to Brad's room jerked the boy out of sleep as a reaction to an uneasy feeling whenever he hears someone coming over. He didn't quite get up, though, he waited with his bleary eyes for his mother to enter the room and tell him to get up instead, as if the extra few seconds actually matter. The doors shrieked open as a woman in her mid forties entered it with caution and to her surprise almost immediately covered her nose with her hand to tone down the stench: "Christ, Brad. Get up. You'll be late for school." "I'm up, ma."- said the boy from under the cover in slow-motion, almost as if he was sedated. "Now."- the irritated mother responded as she turned around to leave before diverting her head back again in disgust: "And for God's sake, clean up a bit". It took him about 10 minutes rolling in bed before finally creeping out and slowly making his way to the closet to pick out something to wear, before going for a shower. The cold water in a warm summer morning felt like a good idea. In fact, it felt so good it took him another twenty minutes just to get out and dry off before dressing. As he made his way down the stairs to get something to eat, he found his parents sitting and drinking coffee by the dinner table, his father reading newspapers while his mother cleaning up after the two in a rush. "Oh shoot, can I have some cereal?"- he asked politely, realizing he's late for breakfast. "I told you to get down like half an hour ago."- his mother snapped back in annoyance -"If you want to eat something make it yourself. I'm late for work, and I suggest you hurry up because your school starts in less than twenty minutes". At this point Brad glanced over the clock that was hanging off the wall in their dining room, realizing he's in a bad spot "Ohhh crap crap crap!", he repeated as he rushed over to the cupboards to take out the cereals and then stepped over by the fridge to take out the milk. He quickly poured the two in a bowl while continuously looking back at the clock. This chaotic behavior was observed by his father who was calmly slurping his last drops of coffee: "You might wanna pack some books while you're at it". Young man instantly squirted the milk back into the bowl to his father's disgust as he suddenly understood he forgot to pack his backpack. He quickly spilled the bowl in the sink and rushed back up to his room to get his things ready. Okay, okay. Calm down. It's your school, bro. What could happen? You're never late. Classes are just early. -he encouraged himself as he rushed back down with the backpack hanging off from his right shoulder and stormed through the front door while casually raising his right arm to say bye to his dad. As he got out he checked his wrist watch that now said he had only 10 minutes left to get to class. Alright. No problem. I just gotta drive a bit faster. I can totally pull this off. -he thought as he sat down in his '68 Camaro and took off in a rush.

Briar was dying. She was sure of it. That could be the only explanation to what felt like a power drill making several hundred holes in her skull while her brain was being trampled upon by a herd of elephants. She attempted to open her eyes, which took a lot more effort than she'd remembered, and immediately found that an extremely bright light kept her from being successful in her endeavor. Was she in heaven? That couldn't be. She was pretty sure if there was an afterlife, she already had a throne set up for her in hell. "Hey," a booming voice pierced her eardrums next, "wake up. Your sister is here." Oh. She was definitely in hell. Briar groaned, which only proved to make her headache worse, but she forced her eyes open. She stretched her limbs and allowed her eyes to focus on the room again, thankful that the light had been turned off. As the burning of her eyelids lessened, memories from the night prior began to rise up to the forefront of her mind again. "You were pretty smashed last night, bro." Briar waved her hand dismissively at Hans, a heavily-muscled brute that Briar discovered really had a heart of gold. He'd been her right-hand man since she entered high school. Briar turned to the bedside table and grabbed the glass of water set there. After she took it along with some advil, she extended her hand for Hans to help her up. The 'last-day-of-vacation' party the night before had been particularly wild, and Briar understood why. Most of the people there were seniors, and they hadn't seemed prepared to handle a world outside of their high school kingdom. "You're going to be late." Briar shrugged as she entered Hans' bathroom. "Don't really care," she replied, which got her a light-hearted chuckle from Hans. Briar showered and got her things ready, which didn't really take more than half an hour. She donned her usual attire - a band shirt and ripped jeans paired with her converse - and put on a pair of sunglasses. She walked out of Hans' apartment, with the man handing her a stick of cigarette on her way out, and entered her sister's car, ignoring Aster's stern glare. She rolled down the window and lit the cigarette, much to Aster's dismay, and watched as the scenery passed them by. The car soon came to a halt outside the high school's gate. "Make this year different, Briar," Aster pleaded with her. Briar scoffed and took a final drag of her cigarette as she got out. "Gotcha, Herr Fuhrer." She added a salute to that before turning on her heel and walking away from her sister. She flicked the cigarette in the direction of a random freshman, and made her way inside. She looked for her locker, knowing that with the administration's hate for her, it'd probably be placed near the bathrooms or the AV club room. To her surprise, her locker was placed along with the other juniors' lockers and she grinned. She stepped beside another junior - Isabella or whatever, Briar didn't really remember. She seemed to be having a bit of trouble opening up her locker, and the noise was making Briar's headache act up again. "Here," she offered, not waiting for a reply before she hit the edge of Isabella's locker with her fist. When she saw that it opened, she moved to open her locker with ease.

A siren echoed through the whole house, louder and louder. Wyatt slowly opened his eyes, "Silver" he said quietly. A another voice spoke, but it wasn't that of a humans, it sounded more like a robot... "Yes Master?" it said. Wyatt sat up on his bed, "Alarm off, please" and just like that the siren stopped. Wyatt got up and sluggishly walked to the shower, "Shall I have breakfast ready master? Toast?" it asked. "Thank you silver, whatever will be nice." Once Wyatt was out of the shower he put on his Grey hoodie, black jeans and skater shoes. "Have fun at school, master" was all that could be heard as Wyatt left his house. He looked around the neighbourhood and his face never changed, bored. He put on his ipod and headphones and proceeded to walk to school. Wyatt knew the layout of this school like no one else. He knew the ways to get to where he wanted without any human contact. Wyatt headed straight for his first class, Contemporary US Studies.

(For your enjoyment, play "Jet - Are you gonna be my girl" while reading) Loud screams of tires and the smell of burnt rubber was spreading through the town as Brad didn't hold back on the gas pedal trying to get to school in time. The sound of "Are you gonna be my girl" was bursting out from his radio as was evident to everyone in the school yard before he even got there. The smoke from the exhaust pipe of his old Camaro rising above the school's fence alerted everyone that Hot Menace is back, baby! -as he noted to himself. He made a sharp turn while still in gear and entered the school parking lot where there were still kids hanging out and going towards the school. I don't even know why I doubted myself. Self five. -he thought as he came to understand he made it just in time. He got out of his well kept old-timer and took his bag from the back seat before heading towards the school entrance. As he made his way people he passed by gave him casual stares, almost as if they were disappointed he was back. But he took it as a welcoming committee and let out his signature loud whistling noise- "WOOO!" -as he slammed the front door behind him. He had a relaxing walk towards his locker while hand-clasping a few buddies and saying hello to some girls along the way with only two minutes left before the class started while everyone around him was in haste. He left the excess books in the locker and proceeded to his first class - Contemporary US studies.

Merle walked to her locker, head down ignoring everything around her. She fumbled with her locker but managed to open the stupid thing. Merle hoped with all her might that there weren't any of her 8th grade classmates in her class. They hated Merle. The had bullied Merle almost all of last year and Merle did not feel like repeating that hell. Merle grabbed her books and headed to her first class. Merle's first class was world history. Fabulous. history first thing in the morning. Nothing exciting just history, in a class filled with already tired students.

Jake walked into the school. He was given his schedule early, and found out that he had Contemporary US Studies, one of his honor classes. If Jake wasn't a musician at heart, he would be a history teacher. He found his way to the class, being a minute late. "Hey there! I'm guessing you're Jake?" A man in his late 20s said this. "Yeah. Sorry about being late, it won't happen again." He said this and sat down. "It's ok, haha. I know you just moved here." The man laughed a bit as he said that. "Nice shirt, by the way." The man pulled up a PowerPoint, and explained the class. "My name, if you haven't had me, is Mr. Weber..."

As Brad entered the classroom the first person he noticed was his bro, Tyler - a 6-foot-one African American wide receiver who immediately smiled at him as his eyebrows raised in excitement at the sight of his best friend. Brad sat down by Tyler as was their usual place, in the back of the classroom. "Bro, have you heard from Matt?"- Tyler interrogated. "Nah, man. What's up?"- Brad curiously answered back. "I heard he got in trouble with his parents after coming home last night."- Tyler explained with a slight grin on his face- "Apparently he mistakenly went to his parents' bedroom and went all out pissing on their bed." The sheer thought of this 5'11 goofy kid who's their best friend drunk as a skunk, wobbling while attempting to hold balance, skipping from one foot to the other, urinating on his parents' marital bed made them burst out in laughter. The chat was cut short as at that point the teacher walked in. "Good morning, class. I am Mr. Daniels and I will be your teacher this year"- the man said who was apparently in his mid forties. He is wearing a plaid shirt under a sweater and some pants and loafers. He has an unusually thick brown hair with some patches of grays on the sides and a pen that was hanging off his sweater pocket on the right side of the chest. "I am going to skip the introduction with you guys so I can focus more on the subject."- he said confidently while standing above his desk looking over the classroom- "I will learn your names as time goes on and I expect you all to do your homework and studying on time". Sure thing, boss.- thought Brad as looked at his new professor in annoyance. "The first topic is the Reconstruction period of 1865-1877. after the Civil war, so please open your books to page 5."- Mr. Daniels continued as the class obediently followed his instructions.

"Here." The voice came from nowhere and Isabella flinched as the fist came soaring by her face and slammed the locker. It opened without hesitation. Her lips parted in both awe and shock. "Well thanks!" Isabella chirped, watching the girl open her locker on the first try. Isabella had seen this girl in a few of her classes, and came to know her as Briar. Briar didn't have the best reputation in school, but Isa held not much of an opinion on someone until she truly knew them- which she did not. "First times the charm when it comes to you huh?" Isa commented with a small smirk across her painted lips. "If only I was that lucky!" she continued the small talk, but didn't really invest in conversation with the girl. "See you around then, Briar." Isabella commented, closing her door with a loud bang, and heading towards her first class: Contemp. US Studies. Oh joy. Isa got right to class before the teacher's introduction. A few minutes later would have definitely made her tardy. Not something she wanted to get on her first day back. Unfortunately, Mr. Daniels did not believe in the whole 'first day activities' that most teachers would do, and got right into handing out books and getting to work. It was becoming clear that this period would not be a fun one. Isabella let out a sigh, as she turned to the announced pages.

The new teacher was giving his presentation to the class but all Brad could hear was bla bla bla "yeah bro, we get it. USA kicks ass."- he thought while barely holding his head up with the support of his right arm which was resting on the desk- "Jesus Christ time is passing so slowly."- his thoughts continued as he paid attention to the clock needles rotating. "Fuck man, I'm hungry, my stomach will start eating itself if I don't get any food soon. I should NOT have skipped that breakfast". He diverted his look towards his friend who was sitting a foot left of him to see what he was up to and then noticed Tyler was sound asleep- "That's my boy. I probably should doze off too, this is bullshit." "...you there, in the back."- suddenly a voice broke through Brad's disregard of the teacher's instructing as he looked towards the blackboard. "Me?"- he replied a bit stunned. "Yes, you. Can you answer the question please?"- Mr. Daniels asked completely throwing Brad off. Suddenly he was no longer hungry or tired as the adrenalin rushed to his head causing him to mumble: "Uhh. Yeah."- he studdered- "Uhm. George Washington?" As the answer had nothing to do with the teacher's question suddenly half of the classroom started giggling in attempt to suppress the laughter. "Alright, moving on..."- the teacher continued with a voice of disappointment. At this point Brad just sank in his chair attempting to be as unnoticeable as possible for the rest of the class- Well as used as I am to being wrong, this was embarrassing. Great first impression, dumbass.

Briar mumbled her replies to Isabella as she deposited all her books into her locker. They were organized according to their size, squeezed together so that it would need an extreme use of force to pry them from their spot. It didn't even matter since Briar had a feeling that those books will not be leaving her locker any time soon. If she needed books, there were always people she can coerce into offering their books to her. That was one of the benefits of creating 'pets', as she liked to call them, ever since she was a freshman. Isabella left and Briar sighed. Her skull was still pounding and the brightness of the hallway lights wasn't making it any better. She skimmed over her schedule and groaned. Contemporary US Studies was next and Daniels was one of the teachers that had an active vendetta against her. She had to chuckle at the thought. She supposed Mr. Daniels had a right to be angry at her. She did trash his brand new car the year before - got her gang to destroy it and spray-painted the entire thing with all the insults the students have whispered about him. First day and her first class was with a teacher that hated her? Oh, Briar had a feeling this would be good. She hang around outside the classroom, leaning against the row of lockers there and causing whatever trouble she could with the people passing by her. Adrianne, a red-head senior that Briar spent some time with in her freshman year, even walked past her and offered Briar a stick of cigarette. It just so happened that the janitor was making his rounds, so instead of lighting up their sticks, Briar and Adrianne set fire to the man's mop. After a bit of a laugh at the janitor's expense, Adrianne went on her way and Briar finally decided to enter the classroom. Laughter was just dying down and Briar arched a brow. It didn't seem like they knew of what happened outside, so it had to be some student making a fool of themselves inside. She spotted one guy attempting to blend in with his chair and grinned. What was that boy's name? Brad? Well, he surely didn't know how to deal with Daniels. "Well, well, well. Finally decided to join us, Peyre?" Mr. Daniels spat out as Briar made her way to the empty seat directly in front of Mr. Daniels' table. "You know how I love history," she fired back with a wink, causing some of the other students to chuckle underneath their breath. Briar swore she could see steam coming out of the man's ears, which made her let out a chuckle of her own. She gave Mr. Daniels a salute, before closing her eyes and taking a nap.

As this odd girl entered the room, Brad straightened up in his chair taking a good look at her before leaning over to the side a bit in order to capture Tyler's attention, who was previously woken up by the laughter of the classroom. "Dude, who is that?"- Brad asked quietly while looking at the girl take a seat. "Some goth chick or some shit. I don't know."- Tyler replied with lack of interest then proceeding to yawn and sink back down in his chair while crossing his arms. "Yea, she's got a mouth on her."- replied Brad before settling in his chair and continuing to pay attention to the girl in the front row who was now resting her head on the table, supposedly sleeping.

The student she went up to completely ignored her and Nadia looked around awkwardly, wondering if there was someone else that she could ask. Sadly enough everyone else had went to their respective classes. Nadia sighed and continued her search for the office. Her first day was not starting out well. After some time, she found the school office and went in, getting her schedule and locker number. She then hurried off to find her first classroom, contemporary US studies, honours. After some more time of searching, she found her classroom and knocked on the door before entering. "Uhm, Hi" she said nervously to the teacher there. "Ah hello, you miss sure are late." The teacher said with a smile. "Are you.. Nadia?" He asked, looking at the class register. "I'm mr Weber and I'll be your teacher for this class. Go on and have a seat" he told her and Nadia nodded her head, hurryin off to find an empty seat. She sat down and glanced around her new classmates. Maybe this school wouldn't be so bad..?

Perks of being in an honors class : skipping all of the crap you already know. "The regular class is starting with the Reconstruction Period" said Mr. Weber, "but we're gonna skip straight to World War 2..." Jake smiled a bit when he said that. He grabbed his notebook and started to write.

World War 2.. She had read up on it before coming to this school. Nadia took out her notebook where she had already written down some notes there and began comparing her notes with what her teacher was teaching them about, adding in the things she missed out while making her notes.

Briar had almost slipped into dreamland when she felt the burning gaze on the back of her head. She was used to such stares, as she really wasn't a person that blended in with the shadows. Her fashion sense, her attitude, or her overall demeanor always seemed to draw people's attention - both for the good and bad - but they usually lost interest after a while, or knew well enough not to stare for too long as it always seemed to get on the blonde's bad side. Briar enjoyed the level of respect and indifference people regarded her with. She even loved the hate that some had for her. But this... This felt different. She raised her head and looked behind her to find that same boy, Brad, staring at her. There was a look of something that seemed like intrigue in the jock's eyes. Briar arched a perfectly sculpted brow before throwing a wink his way. This seemed to get Daniels' attention and he turned towards Briar abruptly. "Ms. Peyre? Cohorting with Mr. Stanwick, eh? Perhaps you'd both like to work together on a fifty page paper about the Reconstruction Period?" His voice was taunting, and Briar heard some of the other students' breath catch in their throats. Briar peeked over her shoulder to look at Brad again before leaning back on her chair. "Nah. I'll pass." It obviously wasn't the right thing to say. "You will write it or you will fail! That's final!" Mr. Daniels bellowed.

The original exhilaration and ego boost stimulated by the girl's wink promptly plummeted as the professor suggested the two should work together. Okay, not that I have anything against working with her, the key word is "working" - thought Brad as he made a repulsed face. He turned his head in awe towards Tyler who was laughing. "Shut up."- Brad muttered, however Tyler disregarded it and simply covered his mouth. "If you disregard the homicidal stare and 'tortured-soul' attitude, she's actually fuckable"- Tyler replied under his arm silently while continuing to giggle. "Is there a problem, Mr. Stanwick?"- Mr. Daniels inquired while crossing his arms looking at Brad with raised eyebrows. "No, sir. Thy will is my command."- Brad replied in a bit of a rebellious manner. "Looks like the two of you share something in common, after all."- the teacher dubiously retorted- "An attitude".