It was the last period on the first full day of school and quite frankly, Ashton just wanted to go home and take a nap. There was nothing quite like an extended break to ruin your sleeping schedule and for Ashton, this was no exception. Especially over summer break. And to make her impatience even worse, it was a Friday. But for now, she had to survive through English class and the "new project" that had been announced on the first day of school.

Well, actually, the project had been considered since the end of the school year last year, but she had honestly not expected it to actually get approved. But lo and behold, before her sat a form of questions in regards to the project. "How would you describe your personality?" How the hell was she actually supposed to answer this without being biased? She let out a slight sigh, looking around the room. Everyone else seemed busy hammering away at their sheets, but there was nothing quite like readjusting to writing after any break.

Only about thirty minutes left.

She could do this. Returning to the sheet, she headed for the sections talking about her personality and "life so far". She didn't really have anything creative for username or alias quite yet, so that would wait. And after that was done, she would start mentally drafting up her first e-mail to her assigned partner. Yay, fun.

"Four-One!" Wilson tossed the ball up into the air, before using his right hand to come down on the ball with a snapping motion. The ball flew down on the other side hard and fast, leaving the opposing team little time to react. It was now five-one, with Wilson's side leading. Wilson wasn't too surprised. After all, he had a pretty stacked team with all of the varsity players against the new players of the volleyball team. The volleyball coach always liked the varsity team to scrim with the "casuals". Wilson never really understood why, the varsity team always stomped the new players soundly.

Luckily for the new players, the coach decided to put an end to the massacre and end practice early. Wilson quickly switched into his casual clothes in the locker room, not even taking time to socialize with his teammates like he usually did. In his defense, it wasn't every day that coach ended practice early. Wilson was going to just grab his backpack in his other locker and just chill for the remainder of the period.

After finding his way into the hallways, Wilson spun the dial on his locker a few times. It was the first day after all, he wasn't going to memorize his combo right away. To make matters worse, the second Wilson was able to remember his combo and open his locker, his backpack fell onto the ground and his papers flew all over the place. Guess that was karma for not zipping up his backpack completely before throwing it in the locker.

As Wilson began to pick up the miscellaneous sheets of paper, he stopped as he came across the Syllabus for the "Dear Anonymous" project. It was strange really. Why would the english teachers care about emails or IMs they sent to someone they didn't even know? If it wasn't worth so many points, Wilson would have probably ignored it. He wasn't so sure the teachers were truthful about respecting their privacy anyway.

But Wilson jammed the sheet into his backpack. He really needed to worry about the mess he made first. The project wasn't due till the end of the year anyway, so he wasn't going to overthink it.

Ashley Hart

Ashley had a lot on her mind. It was the beginning of the school year which meant that her birthday was coming up soon. She still had many things to plan like where to host the party, who to invite, what food to serve, and etc. Her Sweet Sixteen party was going to be hard to beat. But she must keep her guests entertained as she had a reputation to uphold. "I wonder if Daddy would let me use his yacht..." she thought to herself though she already knew the answer. He was going to say no. He wasn't a very strict father but if there was one thing that she was not allowed to be near, it was his precious yacht. He uses it to take a break from her and her mother.

She also had to think about this "Dear Anonymous" project or whatever. While she wouldn't admit it, she might actually like this project. All she had to do was email a person anonymously and write a journal. It was an easy way to get points and she needed to get good grades. It also might be a good way to talk to someone without being "Ashley Hart" all the time. The less popular wouldn't judge her so harshly for being dumb and superficial and the ones who want to popular wouldn't kiss up to her all the time either. It'd be a clean slate to talk to someone else which sounded kind of nice to her.

Ashley glanced up at the clock in the front of the room. Class felt like it was going on for ages. She almost forgot which class she was in. But it was the last class of the day on a Friday which meant that after this it was officially the weekend! She wondered if Wilson would want to go on a date tonight, just the two of them for once. She should ask him after class... or she could text him right now.



She quickly typed out the text on her phone and sent it before her teacher could even notice that she was texting. It was just one of her many skills. She slipped her phone back into her pocket and refocused her attention to the board. "When will this class end?"

Jordan was one of the first to hand in the filled out sheet for Dear Anonymous.

He had heard about the project from his little sister, Celeste, over the summer and then again, earlier that day. Before the school year had started, he spent a majority of his summer days shyly asking his sister for opinions and thoughts on what life and his school life would be like while at Wellbridge. Her answers weren't exactly satisfactory as she didn't socialize in the mainstream much herself.

In short? He was a new kid spending his Senior year in the Middle of Nowhere on his own. It didn't stop him from being damn optimistic about it though. It gave him an opportunity to reinvent himself, something that he generally didn't plan on doing anyway, but still! It was an option if he ever decided to act upon it.

It was a bit unfair that he knew nobody though. And as people began to finish up, he noticed that some had begun texting, talking or whispering to one another, leaving him to his own devices. Quite literally in this case as his attention drew to his Canon Rebel T5 which sat at the corner of his desk. It wasn't new, but it was still impressive.

He looked at the clock. Still another twenty-five minutes left of class.

First day of school, first project, last class. Someone kill me now, she thought. This was ridiculous. As she was sitting in the back of the class, shaking her leg, Ariel would be looking over the 'Dear Anonymous' syllabus. The alias and screen name was easy. The personality part, however, was something that she was having trouble with. And then there was the song lyrics from a song that she had previously listened to that day: We all know hurt, so why do you feel the need to put on a pretty face... She rolled her eyes. Guess I'll tell them what they want to hear, she thought as she wrote in the good aspects of her personality.

Unfortuantly, her biology teacher did not appreciate her working on her English work in his class. "Ms. Gray?"

The girls head shot up so fast, you would think that she had have gotten whip lash as her blonde hair bounced in a gentle way it's self. "Yes.. sir?"

"Why are you working on that back there?"

"Because I already know what you're teaching..." It was at this point that everyone had turn to look her straight in the eyes, a knot forming in her stomach.

"Is that so? Well then, Ariel," - he pronouced her name as if it was a dirty word, a sort of sneer forming on his face - "Tell me how out of these two plants, one would end up pink, the other 3 blue, please."

"Simple. Dominant and Recessive traits. I take it you know what a punnet square is, Sir?"

It was at this moment that the man became read in the face, a few snickers coming from the classmates around her.

Just about a half hour left, she reminded herself.

Twenty minutes.

That's what went on in Allen's head, he was playing baseball with his fellow students, some had leave for practice, others were on what's known as a free period, where they could do whatever they want provided it doesn't breach the school policy. Of course, what truly went on his head wasn't about the free period, he's had a slew of those before, and probably won't stop getting them now. After all, one year is all that's left until the removal of a very big problem he found in his side, school. After this year he'd graduate, and unto that, he could do whatever he wanted with his life, join the military, the workforce, or go to college. Allen had particularly come from a semi-wealthy family, but not enough to be considered middle-high or high class, compared to a few of his other friends. But rather, called semi-wealthy since true wealth to him was a number of things that he found worth in.

Nineteen minutes..

His phone had buzzed to find another obstacle, an E-Mail from the teacher, he had his own E-Mail set up as his school one, but he was provided with the credentials to use for another account, instructions, and who else to e-mail, as well as being told very specifically in detail "Break anonymity, and you'll get a zero for this project.", otherwise in layman's bullshit terms, "break anonymity and you'll fail this class." Allen looked up as a rather sharp CLINK! had resounded from a student's bat, he missed that linedrive past the second baseman. He frowned, because not only this meant that the bases were loaded and now things are fair game as the centerfielder had quickly reacted to get the ball to the pitcher.

But it was his turn, Allen rose up, straightening his sports blazer and grabbing his Easton Black Magic bat, it was black, with silver and red around the brand name of the bat. He started to assume position before he had heard an ever so familiar voice going by and away from the field.

"Viiiiirgiiiiin!"

Allen turned around, only to get hit in the shoulder by the baseball after a wayward pitch from the pitcher no less, everyone had heard that, granted, the members of the team were used to heckling. "Well, that hurt..." Allen had thought, granted, the pitcher only grinned. Said pitcher was a kid that Allen didn't get along with on occasion, and found annoying, but never found it worth the time to remember him but by last name, which even then, he didn't want to remember. He pointed the bat the kid and waited for another pitch.

Seventeen minutes...

"Bye, Virgiiiin~!" , those were the words he heard, hearing it when the pitch came made Allen's blood boil, it was a slider, but he wanted to hit it enough to make a point. The ball carried up, not so much as high due to bats not being particularly known for their swinging power below, but rather it hit off the ground and into the pitcher's groin, carried up in both ways to Allen's expectations. It hurt to watch, but Allen didn't care, because it didn't hurt too much. Instead, a sneer was rather plastered around his mouth as he proceeded to take his base.

The emotion was not necessarily panic, but unease. The first day of school, already this was a nightmare for her, even if her brother had started going to school, she barely knew him. She looked about the classroom, eyes constantly on the clock, and the other students. "Was someone going to make fun of me again?" she thought. Everyone else was doing their homework in class, Algebra, a concept she knew well enough, but everyone else had their groups. Celeste was never sure if she could possibly have a group of three or more people working with her, what not with being called a "Vampire" often, and some girls even using less polite terms which she had no idea to respond to, let alone comprehend. "Bitch", "Skank", along with a few other terms she wouldn't want to be caught dead thinking. She always changed in the bathroom rather than the locker room, let alone carried more than one bag, so she could at least pretend that they think she's gone off to someone. Although in her mind she'd know that anyways, even if they think it's true, it never will be. It'd be scandalous, make her unliked reputation even worse, and most of all, she'd get a stern talking to from her mother Katherine.

The school may be part of a place in the middle of nowhere, formerly she had gone to a city that had a bigger high school, but being out of her comfort zone in a smaller house compared to the luxury of the family estate was a big, shocking change. Celeste knew at least a few others, but no one bothered her at her former high school, and taking a year away from the estate had done much to bother her. Why would people call her those names? Was it because she's from the high-class? Was it because it's fun to make fun of people who looked so different? Was it because of her clothes choice, or did someone know about something? "No no no, I've learned from my mistakes, paranoia won't get me anywhere. Even if they did know something, one way or another."

Celeste continued to scribble down on her homework nervously, her mouth going slightly wavy as she started to break out a cold sweat, although she kept her head low to not draw attention. Although she could already feel everyone elses' gaze, she tried her hardest not to panic, sshe was, as her mother puts it on occasion, she's a delicate flower, capable of wilting at the slightest touch, whatever that meant. Even her hoodie, which looked like was big for her, was white with rosen designs at the end, no vines, but just simple roses, of course, the area between the petals were also white in this case too. She started to ask questions, various ones at that "Does this school have a uniform? Do they have any sports teams, does esports exist here?" Et cetera et cetera. Celeste herself was part of a team made up of herself and her friends from the old high school, one of which had given her fashion tips.

But that's all in the past, she had to deal with her temporary one-year life here, outside of her comfort zone, outside of people respecting and greeting her in town with "Miss Noire". She didn't entirely like attention, good or bad, but she preferred bad attention over good attention, anyways.. She looked at the clock, finding two minutes towards the end of the period. She decided to pack up her things in order to leave. It wasn't long now until she was given a text on her phone informing her about an e-mail. "I'll look at it when I get home, I guess..or rather...'home'.."

Becca twirled her pen between her fingers in time to the clock ticking on the wall, seconds seeming minutes long as she stared at the math work present in front of her. This stuff is simple, all revision from at least a year ago. Not that Rebecca didn't like revision weeks, they made her feel smarter in comparison to her usual average grades, but she was itching to leave the school. Sitting still and getting lost in her thoughts, once her greatest skill, no longer fulfilled her new-found adventurous and hyperactive nature. She lookwd around the room at the students in her class, some participating in their schoolwork, some idly watch the clock tick second by second and some finding a certain interest in their laps where their phones undoubtedly sat. Her eyes eventually met those of her middle-age teacher who sat at his desk more interested with whatever sat on his laptop screen than the class of bored seniors.

Slowly Becca slipped the syllabus for this year's english assignment from her bag and softly placed it on her desk. She continued tapping her pen on her desk as she flipped through the syllabus for, what was probably, the 20th time that day. What crazy concoction of an assignment have the school started? she thought to herself, rolling her eyes slightly. This would be interesting to say the least, if could work out positively or negatively depend on who each person got as a partner. This would be easy for Becca, she's great at talking to people, whether it's be online or in person she just hoped her accountability partner wasn't someone who would get on her nerves. She raised her head back to the ticking clock, could this lesson go any slower. She ran a hand through her deep blue hair with a sigh then looked up to see her teacher approaching her desk. How Rebecca hadn't noticed him she didn't know but now he stood in front of her desk glaring at the blue-haired girl.

"Why hey there sir, what can I help you with?" Becca asked him cheerfully, bouncing slightly in her seat. Her teacher evidently did not approve of the teen's greeting and frowned at her before peering at the papers on her table. Of everyone in my class, students not even focusing on any sort of schoolwork, of course he singles out me she thought bitterly to herself.

"That doesn't look like math,"

"No, sir, it's english,"

"And is this English class?"

"No, sir, maths," Becca replied sheepishly, pulling her math work from under her english things, holding back a cruel name and a sarcastic response.

"Nice we understand each other and it's going to stay that way," the teacher said threateningly before walking back to his desk. Becca rolled her eyes and pulled out the english syllabus once more.

---

---

Kain lazily looked at his mother, his eyes scan his lazily done hair and strapped on drapes of his clothes. He wasn't looking forward to another school semester, especially after the fun break. With a long sigh he turned around and picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder.

"First day of school, fun." he said to himself, sarcasm practically oozing off his words.

Kain was wearing a blue hoodie that was zipped up halfway, with black strips askewn forming a random pattern. He had silver plated earrings on both of his ears, and some plain jeans to match.

As soon as he arrived to school, he was to be at a maths class, whilst walking to the class some people whispered something about his eyes as he passed them. Kain ignored this, he knew his eyes had this peculiar color. When he arrived, he sat at the left side of the class, next to the window as per norm. The beginning was another introductory class, and Kain tuned out because he knew this stuff wasn't really important, and boring.

He was staring outside the window, watching people play sports. Kain was now itching to play sports. Wanted to feel that rush again, you know. In the middle of his daydreaming, the teacher called out,

"Kain."

"KAIN!"

His voice rang in the class, Kain was broken out of his stupor,

"How attentive Mr. Millers, now would you answer the question on the board, if you were paying any attnetion then you probably co-"

"249 times 10 to the power of 12." Kain blurted out nonchalantly, interrupting his lovely teacher, who was now fuming a colorful shade of red. Kain, boredom obviously present in his dull yellow eyes turned back to watching the window.

"Goo- Good. Just like I taught you!" the teacher said, wiping sweat off his brow, the class stifled their laughter as he stomped back to his seat.

His phone vibrated in his pants, taking a quick glance at the screen, it was something about the new project thing. Personally Kain didn't really pay too much attention to it,

I hope this is atleast a little bit interesting, otherwise I'm gonne die of boredom this year. he apprehensively thought to himself.

---

His chin resting on his hand, Colin stared out of the window drowsily. The weather’s way too nice to be sitting inside... he commented inwardly as he watched people pass by, enjoying the sun. Although the summer heat had passed, it was still warm enough for him to wear trousers of a lightweight fabric and a simple, dark blue t-shirt.

Colin looked down at his table, where his free hand partially covered the document which he was supposed to hand in for the new project for English class. He had already finished answering the questions as posed on the paper, but there were still twenty minutes left before he could leave the classroom.

His attention drifted over to his arms; despite spending most of the past two months inside, he surprisingly still had a healthy tan. After eventually getting bored of lazing in the sun, he had settled himself to learn programming over the summer break. Starting with C, he had written a few small programs as part of online assignments in the language and had gotten a little more advanced in it by now. If only I had the creativity to come up with some cool program...

He glanced over his shoulder towards his more creative friend. Julian appeared to still be engaged in filling in the form. I bet he’s taking it as if he’s composing another master piece, Colin snickered. Returning his gaze to the sheet in front of him, he decided to add a few extra sentences here and there. Might as well fill it in as accurately as possible, for whatever reason they may need this information. How the hell are they even going to grade this though? On how well we can describe ourselves? On our use of the English language? He shrugged as he finished writing and looked outside once more, waiting for the bell to ring.

Feet on desk, gum in mouth, and phone in hand, Darius was doing all he could to curb boredom by scrolling through his chats, but he was lickety-split growing disinterested in them; gathering easy blackmail from easy fuck boys could only be amusing for so long. Eyes leaving his phone for a moment, all the teen saw were people as eager as him to escape the cage that is Wellbridge High School. The sunny weather, on top of the fact it was Friday, only boosted the boy's desire to leave.

I'll just wait. I mean, there's what, twenty minutes left? No point in risking getting in trouble at this point... yeah. No point. It was a new year which meant more fun, more specifically another Halloween, and the rascal already had ideas for his costume. Ooh! There was also that new English project he was excited about for multiple reasons: a new friend, an easy grade, plus he'd get to help someone; Darius couldn't find a reason to hate it if he tried. Unless of course, he got stuck with King Killjoy himself, Julian Edmund. Thoughts left the boy's mind as quickly as they flew in while attempting to occupy himself, but the thought of Julian stirred something in him. Fuck it.
Darius' attention shifted to his study hall teacher. She were seemingly unobservant, too busy focused on watching whatever it is they were watching on their laptop. Having overzealously torn out a piece of paper from his notebook, the juvenile scribbled something with haste before folding it and shoving it into his pocket. A wicked smirk came across his face. He returned his attention his phone before typing with a certain expeditiousness.

To: Vincent @Amaralyn, Rebecca @SouffleGirl123
I'm bored af. Let's do something today! Meet me at the usual spot.

Ah. The delinquent looked back at his teacher. Once it was safe, he sneaked away and took one of the many hall passes he carries on him out of his back pocket. After walking for a bit, Darius gleefully slipped the piece of paper he scribbled onto into Julian's locker before chuckling; he relished in pissing off King Killjoy. He walked off to his own locker with a spring in each step, and after snatching his things he hopped onto his skateboard. It was time to get the hell out of here. Going through the halls in a rather noisily manner, he popped an ollie and whispered to himself,"Sick ollie." If the teachers presumed it was a cart or opened their doors and saw him didn't matter to him at this point. Having found an exit, Darius made a swift exit and made his way to the bakery with a smile on his face the whole time.

High school, home to the ultimate human conundrum that we call teenagers, and place of burden that currently housed Samuel Nathaniel Childers, and his 6th period biology class. Sam hated this place, but not for the reasons you might presume. Sam actually enjoyed learning, but he hadn't learned anything new in several years, and everyone around him was a complete moron.

Sam sat in the back of the class with the one of the few people he could consider "Not a complete idiot" in the entire room, Ava Johnson. The two of them have had the same classes every year for a long time, and have been friends since middle school. Their friendship was destined to happen, since outside of always being around each other, they are also two of the most outwardly boring people in the entire school. Most other people would probably fall asleep talking to someone like Sam or Ava.

Samuel shifted in the uncomfortable plastic chair, staring at the mass produced wooden platform that sat in mid-air while connected to his accursed chair, never to move. There was little in this room to focus on, as the teacher's constant droning on about the same old subject bored Sam to no end, and he just wanted something else to take his attention away. His eyes shifted to Ava, who sat next to him as usual, hoping for some solace in her dull words. Of course, none could be found, as talking over the lesson would be a dumb idea, and Sam was sure that both he and Ava knew this. Sam's eyes resorted to scouring the bland classroom, which ended in Sam staring out someone he only vaguely knew, Serafina, or Ariel, as everyone called her.

Sera seemed to be filling out the form for the Dear Anonymous project instead of focusing on the teacher's words. She must have not finished filling it out during English, like everyone else.

'Some people are just too slow with certain things, I guess.' Sam thought to himself as he silently stared at the girl, turning away when he realized that his actions could be perceived as creepy. The teacher was now back within Sam's view, and had just stopped his lesson, staring at the girl who was currently ignoring his teachings. Everyone stared at Sera as the old man gave her a question, which she answered with the requisite amount of sass. A small amount of laughter was clearly audible, and Sam would have joined in if he wasn't as bored as he was.

The teenager simply readjusted his glasses, and returned his view to Ava, searching her face for any semblance of something interesting, though, that probably wasn't the best place to look.

Ava Johnson - Boring²
Day One (Sept 4, 2015) | Grade 11 Biology Classroom

---

Ava Johnson was not having a good time.

As far as the first day of school went, there was really only two things to expect out of any given period: an extensive elaboration of a course outline full of useless information everyone either knows or doesn't care about, and forms to fill out yourself and/or with your parents. Despite being what some would call "a massive fucking loser", the girl found no joy in such a boring class period; even having massive amounts of work to do trumped simply sitting down and listening to something she could and did read over in about ten seconds. This, however, was the unfortunate reality that she could not escape - though not for want of trying.

The class did have a few fortunate diversions though, and such events were respite for her taxed soul. Consider the... 'What was her name again?' This thought was socially acceptable because Ava was not someone who knew people. This meant that she was not obligated to answer it, yet she still visibly crinkled her face trying to come up with the proper answer. Ultimately, she decided that it was not worth it. Such an act was only pointless filler among pointless filler: pointless filler². Whatever the case, the source of this pointless filler was the young blonde lass who had drawn the ire of the teacher by doing such a horrendous thing as pursuing the completion of a school-mandated form. How utterly barbaric.

That was sarcasm. Ava was a very funny person; people simply didn't appreciate her. It was very sad. However, this girl had said something funny. Typically, the system is input humor, output laughter. Haha. Ha. HA. (Un?)Fortunately, Ava was not an asshole and would not physically laugh at the teacher for trying to do his job. That was not a daijobu thing to do. Instead she would do it in her head, like any responsible American citizen would when faced with the disgrace of their countrymen. Fortunately for the teacher, he would not be subject to further humiliation from Ava, at least. She had already filled out her Dear Anonymous form and handed it in during the English class by using the power of good time management and honest answers.

...Okay, maybe not that last one.

From the corner of her eye, she caught Sam Childers watching her. It reminded her of a certain book about a forced romance between a vampiric stalker and his emotionless human stalkee. But Ava knew the truth behind this boy's fixation with her face. She knew that there was no romantic subtext. Besides, if he was under the impression that she would be doing something interesting, quirky, or otherwise romcom protagonist-esque, he would be wrong. Perhaps he would come to the conclusion she was an inhuman monster of composure. Indeed, there was no way someone with a personality as extreme as Ava's could be considered human. But as luck would have it, she was in a bored mood today, so Sam would get some wholesome, child-friendly entertainment this period.

Ava drew a picture of a dog. It was a pretty shitty looking dog. Like, the kind of dog that mother dogs show their pups in order to dissuade them from smoking the dank kush or snorting cocaine. Although, it appeared that that was not the intent behind this terrible work of art, for in the background were flowers and a smiley sun. She passed this dog picture to Sam on her right. Upon closer inspection, it could be seen that it had an empty speech bubble. The void contained in that speech bubble posed Sam the greatest of unspoken questions: what was the dog saying? Was it happy? Was it sad?

...And what dark secrets did it hold about the true nature of humanity?

Jacob Rojas

---

You could always tell the new teachers from the old. The signs were subtle, invisible almost, and sometimes even hard to miss. But once you noticed them, they were as stark as a raven in the pure snow. There was a spark in their eyes. Bright, intelligent, optimistic. Innocence that rivaled a newborn lamb's. A visible ideology that students actually wanted to learn and that all it took was a small little push in the right direction for the scum that was teenagers to become shining examples of society. Of course, this never lasted long. Three weeks at most before life's monotony took over and the startling truth of the system's brokenness wore away the gleam, adding another lifeless cog to the machine that was highschool.

Staring at his new US History teacher, with his pop-culture reference filled introduction and his overly cheerful walk, it was obvious to Jacob that this man was merely another toy for the school to break. Then again, who wasn't? It was just that this toy was newer and shinier than the rest. More likely to snap than the rest.

Jacob sighed and tapped his pencil against the desk. First day of school and already his mood was turning sour. Perhaps it was due to the fact that it was a Friday of all days, or that freedom was only less than a half hour away. Neither did well to appease Jacob's restlessness.

Biting back another sigh--a habit, he made a mental note of, to attempt to undo--he reached into his bag and slipped out his English assignment. It was one of the few things he looked onto without dread regarding the school year, but even then he felt a stir of apprehension stir in his gut. Sharing private feelings with a complete stranger? Anonymous or no, it went against many of his own personal rules. Still, it was a major grade and Jacob wasn't going to risk not graduating. With a quick glance around to make sure he wouldn't get caught, Jacob pressed his pen to the page and got to filling out the questions.

Wilson heard a slight ding, informing him that he had received a new text. He rummaged through his pockets, sifting through miscellaneous wrappers and other crap before managing to get a sturdy grip on his phone. Wilson turned on his screen to find he had received a text from Ashley. It was probably to ask him to go out with her tonight again, as she did every other day.



Ashley... was predictable at least, but it didn't really make the relationship any better. Ashley always wanted to be around him, and quite frankly, it was emotionally tolling. Before Ashley, after practice Wilson would usually go home, but now he found himself being dragged along to do god knows what. The times Wilson would decline usually meant Ashley texting him all night anyway, so he found it more productive to just go along with her plans. She was sweet but... Ashley was too much for him. In fact, Wilson couldn't bear to actually try and break up with her. Not to mention the awkward interactions his normal group would have when they would figure out they weren't a thing anymore.



At least Wilson still had a few moments of peace before he would inevitably go out with Ashley tonight. It also probably meant Wilson should do go hang out with other people that didn't try and hog all his time. Wilson sprinted down the hallways, narrowly crashing into pretty much anyone that was in his way, and he soon found himself in front of the door to the cranky old biology teacher's classroom. Wilson was pretty sure the old teacher stopped caring about actually teaching since he had tenure and was about to retire anyway. He wouldn't be surprised, seeing how the bio class was utter shit. Wilson took out his phone and texted his friend Sam, who was probably about to kill himself from the horrors of boredom in bio.



When Wilson was sure the bio teacher wasn't facing him, he stuck in face in the window and produced a middle finger in the bio teacher's direction, while mouthing the words eat shit. Oh, and Wilson waved at Sam too.

From out in the miasma of boredom and monotony came Ava's hand, which delivered a crudely drawn image to Sam's desk. This drawing seemed to contain one of life's great mysteries: What in the world had Ava drawn? At first glance, it seemed like a poorly drawn, malformed dog, but there was no way that anyone could draw a dog that badly. Sam ultimately concluded that Ava had drawn a massive dysfunctional salamander, which somehow made much more sense than a dog.

Sam's contemplation of the drawing was cut short by his phone, which vibrated in his pocket. The bored teen pulled his phone out of his pocket, and checked the text that Wil had just sent him, before returning his phone to its rightful place. He wanted Sam to leave early, and Sam was entirely willing. Of course, in typical Wil fashion, Sam's friend walked up to the biology room's window, and produced his middle finger, all while the Teacher wasn't looking. Sam heard several students try, and fail, to hold in laughter.

Though, if Sam was going to ditch, he felt slightly bad for Ava, so he decided to invite her along. He didn't bother to Text Wil, as he was sure that his friend would be fine with him bringing Ava along. So, Sam took his pencil to the speech bubble above the dysfunctional salamander, wrote his message, and returned the terrible drawing to its creator.

The message read:"Wilson wants me to ditch. You're free to come along, just leave a minute or two after me."

Luckily enough for Sam, he had left all of his stuff in his locker, bringing only an inconsequential notebook and a pencil to his biology class, which he felt fine with leaving behind. Sam silently got up, walked to the front of the room, asked to use the restroom, and walked out to meet Wil. Once outside, Sam whispered to Wil.

"Hey, I invited my friend, Ava, to come along. I was hoping you wouldn't mind."

Zac couldn't believe it. He'd been in this classroom for what? 15 minutes? And already was the class being forced to do work. No easy first day just BAM hard work and research. Not just research but research using those electric boxes from hell. Yup, the computers. Students sat glaring at the screen in boredom. Some more engaged in the subject scribbled notes. Of all things though, the industrial revolution? History was more fun when they learnt about ancient times. At least Zac could use all the stupid beheading puns that every history teacher he'd ever had had undoubtedly heard more than once. At the moment, however, Zac sat at the hard plastic chair (as he had had the swivel stool confiscated from him for concentrating on spinning on it instead of actually doing his work) and continuously stabbed the computer's on/off button to no avail.

"Shawn, get your lazy ass here and tell me why the button on the thingy won't turn my computer on!" he summons his brother in the seat next to him in a hushed tone.

Shawn was busy, and didn't want to be bothered at the moment. Filling out the English sheet in class as he had spent all of his time in that particular class playing Call Of Duty in that class, he heard his brothers voice. Yet another calling of another something stupid to help him with. Unfortunately, the matter of the fact was, Zac just wasn't tech savvy. With a great sigh, Shawn would get up out of his chair and walk over to his brother, getting a questioning glance from the teacher to which he responded with a shrug. Seeing that his brother kept mashing the button over and over, Shawn gave him a stern smack on the back on his head. "You idiot. You can't press it over and over. Your sending the laptop mixed signals. By the way the button is called the on button. Here." He smacked the other boys hand away and mashed the button once, firmly. The screen lit up brightly.

"I knew that!" Zac yelled, much too loud for a classroom setting, resulting in a 'shush' from his teacher. "Just making sure you knew what to do!" he claims, poking his twin with the tip of his black pen, leaving a tiny black dot on his arm.

Shawn lunged, snatching the pen out of his twins hand and in return, drawing a large line down his arm. The teacher began to walk this way, but Shawn didn't care. Him and his brother did these things all the time. The teachers just had to get used to it. "Paybacks a bitch, bro," he responded.

"That wasn't payback! That was unjust you moron!" Zac yells, grabbing a pink highlighter from his bag and scribbling on his brother's arm. Miss what's-her-name continues to approach the boys, unknowing to them. It was obvious they had never been in any of her classes before or she would have given up right then.

"BRO! What's wrong with you?"

"With me?!" Zac snaps back. "You're the one who draw a line done my arm, I was clearly defending myself!"

"Boys," shouted the teacher. "Stop it right this instant or I will send you to detention!"

Shawn and Zac laughed. "That don't scare us, ma'am, we're the Hunter twins."

"Why, we've seen more detentions then students." he adds beaming, throwing his arm around his twin, the last war momentarily forgotten in this verbal fight against teacher what's-her-face. "And don't go thinking we act differently there!"

Shawn, being the taller of the two, wrapped his arm around the back of his twins neck in return, ruffling his hair. "Seriously, we're best friends with Coach now. He didn't even make me run last week. Dude loves us."

"The way these other teacher have let you run around is just unruly!" The teacher was starting to turn as red as a tomato in the face, and both of the boys were beaming from ear to ear.

"Well then," said Shawn. "Imma call you Umbridge. Whatchya think bro? Should we call her Umbridge?"

"Well I was gonna say we call her miss Stiff but Umbridge seems perfectly fitting!" Zac replies, giving his brother a good-natured whack on his arm, "Not like we're gonna remember her real name."

"Oh so true, dear brother."

"Boys, that is rude. See your way to detention now, please."

"There's ten minutes of class left. Seriously?"

"Nah bro," he says, pushing his younger, yet taller, brother's arm from his neck. "Coach has detention today, let's go be 'punished'" he replies, giving his brother a sly sidewards glance screaming mischief. The teacher, however, was probably just relieved they were no longer bothering the rest of her students and watch them leave.

Ava Johnson - Hello. It's Me.
Day One (Sept 4, 2015) | Grade 11 Biology Classroom

---

"That's not what a dog would say..."

Ava's mouth was downturned as she stared in horror at what had become of her beloved creature. Instead of the entertaining dialogue she had been seeking, there was only this... this... this violation of the sacred, unspoken pact between man, woman, and beast. Deep in the depths of her maidenlike heart, she shed a single tear. Slowly, her gaze rose from the desecrated image of her hound and fell upon the form of her so-called "friend", Samuel Childers as he made his way out of the classroom, violating the rules like he had violated her art. She stared straight into the depths of his black-hearted, Trumpian soul with all the rage of a doujin protagonist who was getting NTR'd by the horde of gross old men defiling his qt3.14 waifu. She would remember this, and she would seek her vengeance!

...Probably not, actually. God, school was boring if she was being driven to dank thoughts such as those. Honestly, she didn't give two shits about the dog picture's failure in granter her respite from this droll scenario. Unfortunately, Sam's message was something that she would have to decline for now. Ava was a law-abiding citizen who would not stoop so low as to join these hooligans in their strange behaviors. Besides, what if she got in trouble? It would be like those educational videos she had watched said: first you skip class, and then you're taking a pipe in the crack for some crack in your pipe. That was not the life that Ava wanted, no siree. She was going to graduate, get a PhD in some Fine Arts course, make a bazillion dollars, and then off herself doing something radical instead of growing old in a nursing home. So she crumpled up the picture of badly drawn dog (rest in peace badly drawn dog, may god have mercy on your soul), walked up to the front, and dropped it into the paper recycling.

Then she waited. And waited. And waited. If she had to make a comparison, time was moving like a snail on a treadmill at max speed. That is to say, it wasn't. Because it was dead and slammed against the wall, guts oozing from the shattered remains of its shell as the life slowly and painfully disappears from its eyes. Did the snail have a loving wife? Beautiful children? Grandchildren? Nobody would know, for its death would simply be washed away by a disgruntled custodian who told administration that they need to invest in better doors because small creatures kept getting into the goddamn building.

And like that disgruntled custodian, Ava would quit. She got up, requested that she leave for womanly purposes, and met up with Samuel Childers and his "Wilson" friend, who hopefully was not secretly some kind of drug addicted junkie who gathered them to steal their money and stab them between the ribs. After all, he was the basketball guy right? Drugs weren't good for cardiovascular health, she was pretty sure. And more importantly, he was dating Ashley.

...Hmm...

"Hello," she greeted the two upon catching sight of them outside, "It's me. I am here. What is happening?" She looked at Wilson. "It is nice to meet you," she greeted, holding her hand out for a shake.

Ashley Hart

The teacher was going on and on and on about what she expected from the class for the school year and what they were going to learn. Ashley, herself, was hoping that something, anything would save her from her boredom. As if her prayers were answered, Ashley felt a slight vibration in her pocket that was thankfully not loud enough for anyone in the class to notice. It was probably Wilson! She quickly checked her phone.



Yay! Wilson had texted her back... and he said yes! The reply wasn't as enthusiastic as she would've liked but oh well. She did not really expect him to agree though and now had to think of where to go. Maybe something simple would be best. She would be happy with just eating dinner with her boyfriend.

She slowly began to pack up her stuff as there were only a few minutes of class left. Unfortunately, her teacher was the type of person to draw out the class to the very last second! Most of the kids sitting around her were already asleep but her teacher still didn't take a hint.

After she finished, she stealthily pulled out her phone again to text Wilson back.

To:Wilson @Nytem4re
Is sushi okay? Or if you want, you can come over and we can use the giant home theater to watch something on Netflix?
What are you in the mood for?

Regardless of what he says, Ashley will need to go home first and get ready. She could feel the "bleh" of school on her skin and wanted to take another shower. She would probably have at least two hours before Wilson comes over which was more than enough time for her to look presentable for their date. Now all she had to do was wait for Wilson's reply and for class to end.

"No need to whisper man. We're pretty much in the clear. Yeah, I'm cool with her coming. The more the merrier right?" Anyways, Wilson doubted the old geezer would be too busy rambling about his bio class to notice that there were two people possibly ditching. Even then the three could probably bolt out the gates or something. It was the the first week, not like the school would care about it just yet. Probably would think it was just some new kids that interpreted the bell schedule incorrectly.

"It's me. I am here. What is happening?" Sam's friend announced her arrival with... oddity? Wilson wasn't sure of his first impression of the girl. Quirky? Weird? Strange? She greeted Wilson in an unusual style, while extending her hand out for a handshake. "It is nice to meet you." Wilson also decided to greet Ava warmly. "Ava right? Any friend of Sam's is a friend of mine." While Sam probably hated most of his new friends, Wilson carried no animosity towards Sam's. He really had no reason to, and the most negative thoughts were probably Wilson's comments on how strange Sam's friends were.

Wilson's phone rang again. He quickly scrolled to his messages and scanned the contents of Ashley's text.

From: Ashley
Is sushi okay? Or if you want, you can come over and we can use the giant home theater to watch something on Netflix?
What are you in the mood for?

"Just one sec guys. Gotta text the girlfriend." After excusing himself for a moment, Wilson swiftly wrote up a text to reply to Ashley.

To: Ashley @karamonnom
Sushi's fine. Sure, we can watch something after.

"Anyways.. I'm going to see if we can't get one more." Wilson scrolled through his contacts, attempting to find someone Sam wouldn't chew out because he hated them or something. Which was pretty much 99% of his contact list unfortunately. Wilson was about to give up before he stopped on the contact The Tutor. Wilson didn't think Sam had any ill will towards Ashton, as far as he knew, so Wilson typed up a quick text.

To: Ashton @Cynder
Uhhh. So I know we don't really talk much, but if you don't have a tutoring session with Ashley, you mind coming with us just to hang? Kinda just weird with Sam and his odd friend, and you're probably the only other person I know that he can tolerate.