September 25: Alexander

Alexander

“Get up, boy. You’re gonna be late for your first day.” I feel the kick on the side of my bed before I really hear my dad’s voice. I roll over and see him standing over me, hands on his hips, his face hard like always.
“I’m sorry, Dad.” I rub my eyes and sit up fast. “I thought I set my alarm.”
“It’s alright.” He puts his hand firmly on my shoulder. “We’re all still a little frazzled right now, Son.”
I look around my room. It’s still just a bunch of unpacked boxes and blank white walls. We just moved here. This doesn’t feel like home yet.
“Just get up and find you some clothes. You can start unpacking tonight.” Dad starts to the door. “Me and Jules are leaving now, but Evelyn is gonna drive you to school. Hurry up.” He tosses me a quarter before he walks down the hall.
“Okay, Dad.” I get up and immediately start to make my bed. When I’m done, I make sure the quarter bounces. It does.
I take a fast shower, thankful that Evelyn is already out of the bathroom. She takes forever to get ready in the mornings. I dress in the first clothes I can find: blue basketball shorts, a white t-shirt, and the gray Navy sweatshirt my dad just bought me. When I look in the mirror, I’m for once glad that I don’t have my long hair anymore. Dad made me cut it right after Mom died. He said it made me look like a girl.
So now I have short, Navy-style hair, just like my dad. I’m also glad that I lost all of that baby fat. He made me lose that too after Mom died. So now I’m just a skinny navy brat with short brown hair and cheeks that are always red.
I hate this new house. We just moved to Chicago a few days ago. We came from Virginia, where my dad was stationed. He has a new girlfriend, Julisa. They met on some widower’s website or something. He fell in love with her, thirteen months after my mom died. A month later, we moved here. Julisa isn’t so bad. It’s her daughter that I can’t stand.
Evelyn is my almost step-sister. I’m not used to having a sister, and I don’t want her to be my first. She’s kind of a slut, and she’s always bitching about something. She looks at me like I’m nothing. The feeling is mutual. I don’t know how these living arrangements are going to work. Dad says it’s only temporary.
Evelyn’s family isn’t very wealthy. Their house is small, much smaller than ours in Virginia. Julisa works as a housekeeper in one of the hotels downtown. My Dad found an engineering job here that pays pretty well, so I hope we’ll be moving out soon. I don’t like this house, this neighborhood, this family, this city. I don’t like any of it. I should be starting high school with all of my friends in Norfolk.
“This is stupid,” I mumble to myself.
“You’re stupid,” Evelyn says as she passes my room. I hear her keys jingle and know she’s getting ready to leave.
“Wait for me,” I call as I grab my book bag and turn out the light in my room.
“What do you think you’re doing?” She holds her hand out when I try to follow her out the door.
“My dad said you were giving me a ride to school.” I am confused.
She rolls her right. “Yeah right, like I’d be caught dead with a freshman. The bus will be here any minute.”
Just then, the bus passes us. Evelyn laughs.
“Or not.” She slaps me hard on the arm. “Guess you’re walking, Frosh. See you at school.”
“Are you serious?” My face gets flushed. “It’s fifteen blocks! I have to register.”
“Walk fast.” She shrugs. And just like that, she gets in her car and drives away.
“Bitch,” I mumble. I look at my watch. It’s 7:16. Homeroom starts in thirty-four minutes. I have no choice but to walk fast. Chicago sucks.
I’m about eight blocks in when I see a group of Hispanic kids ahead of me. I look at my watch; it’s 7:33. I’m making good time. Suddenly, I hit someone hard. I look up and see a big Hispanic guy in front of me.
“What the hell is your problem, boy?” He looks at me with hard eyes and has a thick accent.
“I- I’m sorry,” I stammer. “I wasn’t paying attention. I’m late and I need to get to school-”
“What are you doing on this side of the street anyway, pendejo?”Another one steps in. “You trying to get killed?”
“Look.” I can feel my cheeks burning. “I’m new here. I’m a freshman at Five Points, and I’m late-”
“Freshman!” They all taunt me, even the girls. They chant it over and over again, laughing.
“So you’re new here, huh?” A girl with dark brown skin and wet, curly black hair steps in front of me. She runs her hand over my hoodie.
“Yes,” I say quietly.
She smiles. Her lips are big and red. “I think he’s kinda cute.” She shrugs and stands beside another girl.
“Cállate, Damaris.” I hear a voice from the back of the group. A Latino guy, a little shorter than me, approaches me. He is wearing a black tank top, and like the rest of them, he has a gold chain with a crown hanging from his neck. His muscles are huge. He has a scar under his right eye. He is the single scariest person I have ever seen in my life.
He steps right up to me, his nose almost touching me.
“I’m gonna tell you this once, and one time only.” He presses his finger against my cheek. “Are you listening, boy?”
I nod my head. That is all I can do.
“Bueno.” He finally moves his hand away from my face, and I can finally breathe...a little. “Now I’m gonna let this slide because you say you’re new here. And believe me, boy, you’ve got ‘freshman’ written all over you.”
The others snicker around us. He joins them for a second before his eyes lock back on mine.
“But this,” he says and points to the neighborhood behind the fence. “Is Humboldt Park. You know what that means?”
I shake my head.
“It means Little Puerto Rico, esé.” He squints his eyes. “That means if you aren’t Puerto Rican, you stay away from this side of West Division Street. You got that?”
“Yeah,” I manage to say. “I’m sorry man, I don’t want any trouble.”
“Don’t talk to me like I’m your friend, ese.” He shakes his head. “I’m just warning you. ‘Cause next time, there will be trouble.”
“I got it.” I nod. “I’ll walk on the other side of the street next time.”
“You don’t wanna do that.” One of the guys beside me says.
“Yeah,” the one in front of me agrees. “That’s where the 808’s stay.” He points to a group of black people eyeing us from the other side of the street. “You don’t wanna fuck with them either.”
The guys on the other side of the street do look pretty scary. “So how am I supposed to get to school then?”
The guy shrugs. “Guess you better walk back that way and go around.” He points behind me.
“But that’s ten extra blocks.”
“Don’t raise your voice to me, son.” His voice gets lower. If I wasn’t scared before, I am now. The sound of tires stopping on the street moves us out of our gaze.
The bus is here to pick them up. “Guess I’ll just ride the bus,” I say and start towards the open doors.
The guy puts his hand on my shoulder and pulls me back. “Trust me, white boy. You don’t wanna do that.”
I see the group of black people walking from the other side of the street. I can see hate in their eyes, as well as the eyes of the Hispanics standing around me. He’s probably right; I don’t want to do this. I’ll just have to walk.
“Again, I’m sorry.” I hold my hand out to shake his.
“Don’t apologize, esé.” He shakes his head, but not my hand. “Just learn. This is Chi-Town. It ain’t your dad’s country club. Watch yourself.”
With that, they all pile on the bus after all of the black kids. The driver looks at me for a second, shakes his head, then closes the door and pulls away.
I look at my watch. 7:37. That was the longest four minutes of my life. I turn around and head back down West Division Street, trying to make up for lost time. My heart is still racing. I definitely don’t belong in Chicago.

*******

When I finally get to school, I’m hot and out of breath. I open the front doors. Five Points High School is deserted. There is no one in the lobby. I walk into the administrative office, where a woman is sitting at the front desk.
“Hi,” I manage to say through deep breaths.
“Hi, sweetheart.” She pulls the glasses off of her face and smiles at me. “What can I do for you?”
I take a few seconds to catch my breath before answering her. “I’m new here, and my dad didn’t have time to finish registering me before today. I’m sorry I’m late.”
“It’s okay, honey,” she assures me. “It happens. What’s your name?” She puts the glasses back on and turns to the computer.
“Alexander Reid.”
She types into the computer and nods. “Yep, we’ve got you here. Everything is taken care of; we just need to get you your schedule. Do you know your way around yet?”
I shake my head. “No ma’am. I’ve never been here before. I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing, sweetheart.” She laughs. “We’ll get you squared away. Just have a seat right there, and I’ll let Mr. Hall know you’re here.”
I sit down in the chair she pointed to and wait. I remind myself to tell Dad how much this place sucks. I could tell when I walked in that the school was huge. Why would he do this to me? And just for some woman. Some woman who isn’t my mom.
“Ah, Mr. Reid.” A tall man with thin black hair and glasses approaches me. “Glad you could make it.”
“I’m sorry about that. My ride kind of bailed on me.” I stand up to shake his hand.
“Wow, nice handshake,” he says with a smile. “Don’t worry about it. Here’s your schedule.” He hands me an index card. “Does everything look accurate?”
I scan the card: Spanish, geometry, physical science, and gym. Sounds like an easy enough semester.
“Yes sir.” I nod. “Everything looks great.”
“Great.” He puts his arm around my shoulder. “Why don’t you follow me out here to the lobby? I’ll have one of our student council members show you around. Do you have any questions for me?”
“I don’t think so.” I shake my head. “It’s just high school, right? No big deal.”
“Right,” Mr. Hall agrees. “I’m glad someone realizes that.”
What is that supposed to mean? I want to ask him, but I honestly don’t want to hear him talk anymore. I just want to get this day over with.
“You can have a seat here.” He points to a bench outside of the office. “Ruby will be here as soon as she gets done with the announcements, which you can watch up there.” He motions towards a television that is mounted to a wall across the lobby.
“Thanks,” I say.
He leaves and I focus on the television. A girl with curly black hair and glasses is talking to me.
“Good morning, Five Point Boomers.” Boomers. What a ridiculous mascot. She starts with the announcements but I don’t really hear them.
“...last-minutes football tryouts will start tomorrow. We still have a few spots open on the best team in the district, so see Coach Barnes in room two-twenty to sign up or for more information.”
This catches my attention. If I’m going to enjoy my time here even a little bit, I’ve to be on the football team. I make a mental note to stop in room two twenty before the day is over. I was always too fat to be on the football team back home. Not anymore though.
The bell rings a few seconds later. Immediately, the lobby is full of people. I’ve never seen so many kids in my life. Five Points really is huge. I sit awkwardly on the bench, trying not to make eye contact with anyone that passes by. A girl with dark red hair sits down next to me, her arms crossed over her chest. She shakes her leg like she’s nervous or something. I don’t even think she notices I’m sitting next to her.
Nobody notices the freshman.
Everyone is a part of a clique. And everyone in the cliques looks the same. They are all robots. I wonder what clique I will fall into. At this point, I just need to make it to my first class.
Across from me in the lobby, I see the blacks in the right corner and the Latinos in the left. They are divided, just like they were on the street.
“Manny!” I hear someone call. I see the kid who got in my face at the corner shake hands with another Latino. Manny. So that’s his name.
I look away, hoping he doesn’t see me. I see Evelyn leaned against the wall talking to some guy. He looks older than her. He’s really tall and has dark, wavy hair. He’s a good-looking guy. I wonder why he’s wasting his time on her. She wraps her arms around his waist and he kisses her neck. A group of blonde girls walking past them stares and points. They all laugh and whisper to each other. And she was worried about me ruining her reputation... Slut.
A few moments later, a second bell rings. The kids slowly leave the lobby, heading to class I assume. Within a minute, the lobby is empty again. It’s just me.
“Here he is,” I hear. I see Mr. Hall approaching with the curly-haired girl from the announcements.
“Hey Audrey,” the girl says to the redhead next to me. Redhead doesn’t respond.
“Alexander, this is Ruby St. Clair, our student body president.”Mr. Hall stands in between us.
“Yeah, I saw you on the TV.” I force a smile. “I’m Alex Reid.” I hold out my hand. Habit.
“Nice to meet you, Alex.” She shakes my hand pretty firmly, for a girl.
“Ruby will be showing you around campus today,” Mr. Hall explains. “Try to make it quick though, I don’t want you getting too behind on the first day.”
“Yes sir.”
“Thanks again, Ruby.” Mr. Hall pats her on the back and looks at the redhead. “Let’s go to my office, Audrey.” She stands up and follows behind him.
“Well,” she says. “Let’s get this tour started. “Over here to the left,” I point, “is the cafeteria. It’s pretty huge, and you should know that everyone has a designated section. If you sit in the wrong section, you’re liable to get hurt.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean stay close to the front, with the other freshmen.” She says it with a smile, but it seems forced. “You’ll understand once you go to lunch today. What lunch do you have?”
“Uh.” I check my schedule. I’m such a freshman. “C lunch.”
“Me too. It’s the worst, way too crowded. But you get used to it.” We leave the lobby through a set of double doors.
“This is the prep hallway,” she explains. “Stay out of here during all breaks, especially in the morning. They feed off of freshmen, trust me.”
“Wow, is this tour supposed to help me or scare the shit out of me?”
“I’m sorry,” She chuckles. “Let me just be honest with you. Here at Five Points, you’re given a label. Usually, you don’t get to pick your label. You’re a prep, a nerd, a theater geek, a stoner, an emo, the list goes on. This school is all about cliques. Cliques don’t mingle with other cliques. For example, the nerds do not mingle with the preps. We have two gangs here, the Cholos and the 808’s. If you cross paths with one of them, or piss them off, you’re screwed.”
I’m pretty sure I’ve already crossed paths with them. I can’t imagine there being anyone worse than the people I met earlier. I get scared again just thinking about it.
She must see the fear. “Look, I’m not trying to scare you. I’m just warning you. Stay out of this hallway, unless you have class here or you plan on becoming a theater geek. They hang out on those stairs over there.” I point to the stairs dubbed the thespian stairs.
“Not really my scene.” I shake my head. “I do think I have class in here though. Spanish One.”
She takes the card. “Yeah, room twelve. It’s right over here.” We walk to the room. She pats me on the back “They won’t kill you if you don’t give them a reason to.”
“Okay. I’ll try my best.”
“So, who are you, Alex? Where did you come from?”She’s trying hard here.
“I just moved here from Virginia. My dad is in the Navy, he was stationed there for a while. But he met some chick and we had to move.”I hate talking about this.
“You don’t like the woman?”
“She’s alright, I guess. It’s just that… never mind.” I shrug. We head outside towards another tall building.
“Okay.” She nods. “It’s cool if you don’t want to talk about it.”
“She’s cool. But her daughter is a total drag.”I get annoyed just thinking about Evelyn. “She goes here too, she’s a junior. She refused to show me around, said hanging with a freshman would be bad for her rep. And her rep is already trashed, from what I understand.”
“Who is she?”
“Evelyn Rhodes.” I hate saying her name. “You probably don’t know her; she doesn’t seem like your type of friend.” Definitely not, judging from the American Eagle shirt, the new jeans, and the perfect hair.
“Oh, I know her alright.” She laughs. “Everyone knows Evelyn. You’re right about the reputation thing. I think hanging out with a freshman is the least of her problems.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, here is your geometry room.” We stop at room one fourteen in the math and science building. “You’ll come here for second period. And you’re lucky; you have physical science third, which is right up the stairs.
“Cool.”I check my card again. “My last class is gym.”
“That’s in the gym,” She laughs again. I’m glad she finds this so funny. “Which is right there.” She points to another building. “Just go in through those double doors.”
“Okay.” I nod, a little overwhelmed. “Anything else I should know about this place?”
She shrugs. “You’ll get used to everything after a while. You’ll probably feel like everyone hates you. Don’t worry, everyone hates all freshmen. It’s just a part of the process. Like I said before, stay out of the way and you’ll be fine. Try to stay under the radar. I’m a peer counselor here, so if you need anything or anyone to talk to, I’m available on Mondays and Wednesdays from three until four-thirty.”
“Wow, you do it all, don’t you?” She’s an overachiever, I can tell. I hate overachievers.
“Not really,” she shrugs. “I like to keep busy. You’ve got time to make it to your first class,” She looks at her. “Is there anything else you need?”
“I just need to know where room two twenty is, so I can get some information on football tryouts.”
She stares at me and shakes her head. “You don’t want to do that.”
“Why not?”My old insecurities come back.
“We have one of the best football teams in the district. Freshmen never make the team. Except Anderson Stone, he was the first to make varsity his freshman year.”
“Well, I’m about to be the second.”
“Remember what I said about staying under the radar?” She stares at me hard. “Trying out for football is probably not the best tactic.”
“Whatever, I’ll find the room on my own.” I’m not about to let the school president tell me what to do. “Thanks for your help, Ruby. I’ll see you around.” I turn back to the main building to go to Spanish.
“Bye,” she calls after me.
Spanish is a total drag, like I expected it to be. Luckily I only had to sit through half of it. My teacher, Senora Pierce, thinks that it’s okay for her to talk to us in Spanish. Even though we are only in Spanish One, she expects us to know everything she is saying. This is going to be a long semester.
My second class of the day is geometry. I hate math, but for some reason I’m ridiculously good at it. I took algebra in eighth grade. And I’m one of the only freshmen in my class. Mr. Reeves skipped right over the typical introduction stuff and went straight into lecturing.
“Does anyone have the answer?”Mr. Reeves, who’s got to be at least seventy, looks at the class.
Thirteen. The answer is thirteen.
“Anyone?”
Thirteen.
He looks at the roster on his desk. “Miss Boyd. Janey.” He looks around.
Janey is the emo girl sitting in the back right corner. She’s three seats down from me. Her hair is dark blonde, streaked with brown and a little bit of red. Her bangs hang low over her face. Her nails are painted black. Her jeans are tight, and black. Her long-sleeved shirt is striped with different colors. She wears a black, puffy vest over it.
She bites her nails but doesn’t look directly at the teacher. I can see that she hasn’t written down any notes.
“Janey?” Mr. Reeves calls her name again.
Thirteen.
She doesn’t say anything. She just keeps biting her nails.
The answer is thirteen.
“Janey?”
Silence.
A few people in the room start to snicker quietly.
My face starts to flush. I’m embarrassed for her.
Thirteen. The answer is thirteen. Just say it. Say it, Janey. Say it!
“Thirteen.” It was me that said it, not her.
Mr. Reeves looks at me. So does the rest of the class. “Well, Mister...”
“Reid,” I say. “Alex Reid.”
“Thank you, Alex Reid.” He turns back to the board and writes the next problem.
I look over at Janey. She doesn’t look back.

******

Lunch comes faster than I expect. Physical science is going to be the death of me, I decide as I follow the crowd to the cafeteria. I remind myself to go ahead and set up a tutor. When I get to the cafeteria, I see that it is just as divided as every other part of this school. Ruby wasn’t lying.
I file in line and put food on my tray. I’m glad to see that cafeteria food is the same, no matter what state you’re in. After paying for my food, I look around at all of the tables. The preps are sitting in the front right corner, next to the long tables. I can easily spot the football team and the cheerleaders. In the back, I see the blacks and the Latinos. Everyone has their place. So where is mine?
I remember what Ruby said about freshmen sitting at the front. I take a seat at the end of one of the front tables. An awkward Asian kid sits down next to me. I pull out my phone to text my friend Ethan from back home.
This place sucks. Can’t wait until Thanksgiving break.
I leave the cafeteria a few minutes before the bell so I can stop by the football coach’s room for tryout information. I knock on his door softly. He’s at his desk, but looks up when I knock.
“Coach Barnes?”
“That’s me.” He nods. “How can I help you, son?”
“I just wanted to come by and get the information for football tryouts. I just moved here. I’m Alex Reid.” I step into the classroom and hold my hand out.
He shakes it. “Nice to meet you, Alex.” He looks me up and down. “You’re a freshman, aren’t you?”
“How did you know?”
He chuckles. “It’s written all over you.”
I’m getting pretty sick of hearing that. I bite my tongue and just nod. “Yes sir.”
“Well, son, there’s no rule that says freshmen can’t try out for the team.” He hands me a few forms. “Just know that they usually don’t make it.”
“I understand.” I nod.
“Now, we do have a few positions open for equipment staff. We are always looking for extra help with water, laundry, things like that.”
“Thanks,” I say. “But I want to be on the team.”
He sighs and stands up. He is big, like a football player. His skin is dark and his face is starting to wrinkle. “Well, son, best of luck to you. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Thanks.” We shake hands again just as the bell rings. I’ve got to go to gym.
Once we are all in the gym, our teacher starts going over the rules. There are other classes spread out all over the gym, so it is hard to hear.
“You’ll need to dress out every day.” Mr. Perez paces back and forth in front of us. “If you don’t dress out, you’ll get a zero for the day. This starts tomorrow. You’ll need to keep all of your belongings in the locker room. Bring a combination lock with you. We aren’t responsible for anything that gets lost or stolen.”
I lean back in the bleachers and cross my arms over my chest. You’d think teachers would understand that all gym classes are the same after sixth grade. We don’t need to hear the same rules every year.
“This is just basic Freshman Gym. We’ll be doing everything from basketball to soccer to strength training. Today we’re just gonna play some dodge ball and get to know our classmates. But first, you all need to go put your things in the locker rooms. Boys over here, ladies over there.” He points to the locker rooms and we all take off.
The locker room is huge. I put my stuff in a locker close to the back, hoping no one will steal anything. I am stuffing the football papers in my backpack when I hear someone behind me.
“Whoa, freshman. What the hell are you doing back here?”
I turn around to see a big guy standing behind me. He is almost a foot taller than me and twice my size. He is all muscle. He has dark red hair, the color of rust. The scruffy hair on his face is the same color.
“I’m just putting my stuff in a locker.” I point to the locker behind me.
“Can’t you read?” He points to a sign on the wall above the row of lockers. “These are the football lockers.”
I look at the lockers and notice that most of them already have stuff in them.
“Oh, I’m sorry, man.” I open the locker and start to pull my stuff out. “I didn’t see the sign.”
“What have we here, James?” I hear a voice to my right. I look over and see a tall, muscular guy with his shirt off. He’s ripped. His hair is dark blonde and cut short.
“Just some freshman,” the redhead snickers. “I think he’s lost.”
“What you got there, freshman?” The blonde snatches the papers from my hands. “Football team parent consent form?”
“I’m going out for the team.” I try to make myself as big as possible. Don’t make yourself look weak. Stand tall. That’s what my dad always says.
“Oh is that right?” The blonde grins and holds out a hand. “I’m Anderson Stone, team captain.”
I reach out to shake his hand but he pulls away. “And you should know,” he continues. “There isn’t room for any freshmen on my team.”
I nod. “Well, Coach Barnes said it’s not impossible, so I’m at least gonna try. I’m new here; I thought it’d be a good way to meet people.”
“Nice try,” James laughs. “But you do know football is a contact sport, right?” He squeezes my arm. “We’d kill you out there.”
“I’ve played before,” I lie.
They laugh. “Yeah boy, but you never played for the Boomers. We’ve got some tough teams in the district.”
Anderson nods. “Yeah, but we always need somebody to wash our uniforms. You look like somebody that could handle that.”
“Whatever,” I snatch the papers from him and start to walk. They each put a hand on my chest.
“Do you know who I am?” Anderson’s face is hard. “Don’t you get smart with me.”
“I’m gonna be late for gym.” I try to push forward.
“You’ll leave when we say you leave.” James steps closer to me. “You need to learn your place here, Frosh. Otherwise, it’s gonna be a long, hard year for you.”
“I got it.”
“I don’t think you do.” Anderson shakes his head. “No, ‘cause see, I still see a little bit of attitude in your eyes. And I don’t like it when freshmen get an attitude with me.”
This is the last thing I need right now. I just want to get through gym class and go home. I take a deep breath and try to keep calm. I know about five moves my dad taught me that could have them both down in a matter of seconds. But I’m so nervous right now and I don’t want to risk messing it up and getting killed.
“Guys, please.” I sigh. “Just let me go.”
“What’s going on boys?” I hear a voice coming towards us. They both turn around.
“Hey Jeoff,” they both say. They exchange handshakes.
Jeoff is a black guy, kind of skinny, with a baggy red t-shirt and gray basketball shorts on. I recognize him from the street corner earlier this morning.
“Long time, no see, man.” Anderson smiles. “How was your summer?”
“Can’t complain.” Jeoff shrugs. “What’s going on here?”
“Just putting my little freshman friend in his place.” Anderson smacks me hard on the back. “What’s your name again, Frosh?”
“Alex,” I mumble.
“Yeah, this is Alex.” James laughs. “He’s thinking about going out for the team.”
“So let him.” Jeoff shrugs. “Might be good to have some fresh meat on the team.” He smiles.
“Well, we told him we think he’d do a better job as a water boy.” Anderson squeezes my shoulder. I try not to wince. “We’re just concerned about him getting hurt out there.”
“Jeoff plays basketball,” James explains. “He doesn’t know what it’s like to play football.”
“Yeah,” Anderson agrees. “’Cause he quit football to be a drummer.” He shoves Jeoff playfully.
“I am a drummer.” Jeoff shakes his head. “And I’ll show you boys how I do next semester during basketball season.” They all laugh for a second before he turns to me. “Why don’t you guys let the freshman get back to class?”
“Yeah, he’s not worth it.” James agrees. “Let’s go lift some weights.”
Anderson nods then turns to me. “Remember what I said, Frosh.” He shoves me pretty hard before they walk away.
Jeoff sticks around for a second while I gather my stuff. “Don’t worry about them; they’re just jocks.”
“Yeah, whatever.” I throw the papers in my bag. “I’m sick of this place already.”
“I wish I could tell you it gets better.” Jeoff pats me on the back. “But it probably won’t. Just take my advice...Don’t go out for the football team. You probably won’t make it, and it gives them a reason to mess with you.”
“Well thanks, but I don’t need some homeboy giving me advice.” I throw my bag over my shoulder and push past him.
“What?”
I turn around. “Just forget it, dude. I’ve had a shitty first day in this place, and I don’t want any more trouble.”
“Dude.” Jeoff shakes his head. “I’m not gonna fight you. I just saved your ass from ending up in the trashcan.”
“I appreciate it.” I sigh. “I’ll see you around.”
I shove my stuff in a locker and hurry out of the locker room. Dodge ball has already started by the time I get out there. Someone throws a ball that hits me in the head.
I am so tempted to just walk off the court and go home. But Mr. Perez is staring looking right at me, so I pick up the ball and throw it to the other side of the court. I wonder what else God is going to hit me with today.

******

The last bell doesn’t ring fast enough. I hurry out of the gym with all of the other freshmen. I know bus one-thirteen goes right by my house, so I find it in the long row of old yellow buses. I’m one of the first kids on the bus so I take a seat near the front.
“Hey man,” someone behind me says. I turn around and see a guy in the seat behind me. He looks older, but even sitting down I can tell that he’s shorter than me. He has a long scar that goes from the bottom of his right eye, all the way down his cheek. It’s really faded, but still noticeable.
“What’s up?” I mumble.
“Not much; glad the first day is over.”
I didn’t expect him to keep talking, but he’s the first person who’s been nice to me all day so I talk back.
“Me too,” I agree. “I’m Alex.”
He holds out his hand. “Crash.”
We shake hands. I lift an eyebrow. That can’t really be his name. He must read my expression because he smiles.
“It’s a long story.”
“It always is.” I nod.
“Yeah.”
We sit there for a few seconds without saying anything. More kids come on the bus, most of them looking at least half-normal. We pull out of the lot behind a few of the other buses.
“It’s actually not that long of a story,” he says out of nowhere. I turn back around.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” He nods. “I was in a pretty bad accident about seven years ago.”
“Oh,” I say quietly.
“Yeah.” He points to his face. “That’s how I got this big scar. It was the summer before sixth grade. And when we got back to school, everyone started calling me Crash. I never really stopped them, so it just kinda stuck.” He chuckles.
“Well, I guess it could’ve been worse than a scar and a cool nickname.”
“Yeah.” His voice gets a little softer. “My dad died though. And my baby brother, he almost died.”
“I’m sorry, man.” Everything is awkward for a second, like it always is when someone talks about a dead relative. “My mom died a little over a year ago. She had ovarian cancer.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Crash nods his condolences. “It sucks losing a parent.”
“Yeah, it really does,” I agree. “And it doesn’t help that my dad just picked us up and moved us all the way here from Virginia.”
“Oh, you’re new here?”
“Yeah.”
“Damn.” He shakes his head. “The only thing worse than being a freshman at Five Points is being a new freshman at Five Points.”
I don’t even bother asking him how he knows I’m a freshman. I’ve got it written all over me.
“Tell me about it.”
“Yeah, that place is a crazy house.” He runs his hand through his curly brown hair. “Don’t let it get to you. It’s all about cliques and how much money you have.”
“Yeah, I noticed.”
“Just try to be like me.”He points to himself. “I don’t fit into any cliques. I’m friends with everyone, and I do my own thing. Just be funny. That’s all you have to do.
“Maybe I’ll give that a try.” I sigh.
“Do it,” he urges. “And here.” He hands me a card. “I go to a support group once a week. It’s for kids like us, ones who have lost a parent.” He shrugs. “Come sometime if you want. The people are pretty chill and they always have cookies.”
I look over the card. How to Cope. Group Support System. Holden Center. Thursdays 6 pm. “Okay.” I shove the card in my pocket. “Maybe I will.”
The bus slows to a stop and he stands up. “Well, this is my stop.”
I look out the window and see a big building with a sign that reads “West and Sons.” It is some sort of landscaping business.
“Gotta go to work.” He sighs. “I’ll see you around, Alex.”
“See ya.”
He gets off and makes a run for it across the parking lot. I wonder what he’s doing working at a place like that.
I sit in silence for the rest of the ride. It’s another ten minutes before the bus finally makes it to my street and stops in front of my house.
“Thanks,” I mumble to the driver and hurry down the steps.
There is a motorcycle parked in the driveway. I don’t know who’s it is, but it’s a beauty. I run my hands over the glossy bike, all black and shiny.
“Hey kid,” I hear a voice coming from the house. “Keep your hands off my bike.”
I look up quickly. It’s the same guy that was with Evelyn in the lobby this morning. She follows behind him, adjusting her shirt and running her hands through her hair.
“Sorry,” I stammer. “She’s just beautiful.”
“Thank you,” Evelyn says sarcastically. “Now get lost, freshman.”
“Do you have to call me ‘freshman’ when we’re not at school?” I turn to her.
“Shut the fuck up and get in the house,” Evelyn sneers at me. “You’re giving me a headache.”
“Leave the poor kid alone,” the guy coos at her. “I’m Riley, by the way.”
“Hey, I’m-”
“Not important.” Evelyn cuts me off. “We have to go, Riley. I gotta get my car before they close the gates.” She pushes him past me towards the motorcycle.
“See ya around, kid.” Riley half grins at me and gets on his bike. They speed out of the driveway.
Nobody else is home. I walk into the kitchen and look for something to eat. The cabinets are almost empty. No wonder Evelyn is so skinny. I know there is a convenience store just a few blocks away. What I don’t know is if I want to even risk going outside again.
An hour and a half later, I’m starving. I grab my keys and walk back outside. It gets cold early in Chicago. I’m glad to have my hoodie on. I walk pretty quickly towards the store. There isn’t much around this neighborhood. Most of the houses are pretty old and run-down. I guess this is considered the middle-class of northwest Chicago. The store is between a Laundromat and a car wash. There are a bunch of guys hanging out outside of the Laundromat. Some of them are skateboarding, others are smoking cigarettes. I pass them quickly, making sure I don’t make eye contact.
The store is warm and smells like peanuts and cough syrup. A short Chinese man is at the front putting oranges into a basket.
“Hi,” I mumble.
I walk quickly to the back and get a soda. The store is small so there aren’t a lot of options, but I finally decide on a bag of Doritos and a can of chicken noodle soup. Mom used to make it for me when I didn’t feel well.
The old man rings up my groceries and I pay him. “Keep the change,” I say.
When I get back outside, a guy on a skateboard whizzes past me, knocking the bag out of my hand.
“Whoa, sorry man.” He stops the board and walks towards me. “Sorry about that, I didn’t see you coming.”
“It’s fine.”
“You new around here?”
“Yes,” I grumble.
“Yeah, I didn’t think I recognized you.” He nods. “Where are you from?”
“I just moved here from Virginia.”
He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Cool. I’m Brian. Brian Phillips. You go to Five Points?”
“Yeah, I’m a freshman.”
“Cool.”
“I’m Alex.”
“Alex,” he repeats. “Alex Reid?”
“Yeah,” I say skeptically. How does he know my name.
“Are you the Alex Reid that just moved in with Evelyn Rhodes?” He laughs softly.
“Yeah, how did you know?”
“I’m her...” He trails off. “Her friend.”
“Oh,” I say. “Cool. I didn’t know she had many of those.”
“She doesn’t.” Brian shakes his head and chuckles.
“Hey Brian,” one of the guys calls from the Laundromat. “We’re gonna go light up again. You coming?”
“Yeah,” he calls back. “Guess I’ll see you at school, Alex.”
“See ya,” I mumble.
Stoner. I should’ve known. Long, greasy brown hair, quiet, mellow voice, red eyes, grungy flannel shirt, the stink of pot reeking all around him. There’s a stereotype if I’ve ever seen one. I need to get home.
A car stops beside me. It’s sky-blue BMW convertible. I wonder what it’s doing on this side of town.
“Do you need a ride?” A pretty blonde rolls down the window and looks at me. She’s beautiful.
“Uh,” I stutter. “No thanks, I’m good.”
“Are you sure?” She smiles. “It’s kind of cold out there.”
“Okay.” I shrug and open the door. I’m almost scared to touch it. The inside is just as nice as the outside: leather interior, nice sound system.
“Hey,” she says once I’m buckled in. “I’m Samantha.”
“Hey, Samantha.” I smile. “I’m Alex.”
“Nice to meet you, Alex.” She starts to pull away. “Where am I headed?”
“Uh, right on Callahan.”
“So you’re not from around here, are you?” She asks without looking at me.
“How can you tell?”
“Because nobody walks around alone out here unless they are from out of town.” She chuckles.
“You’re alone.”
“Touché.” She nods. “I volunteer sometimes at the soup kitchen a few blocks away.”
“That sounds fun,” I say sarcastically.
“It is. I love it.” She’s not saying it sarcastically. “I get to meet lots of cool people.”
I can’t imagine homeless people being anything but lazy and dirty, let alone cool. But her voice is nice, so I let her keep talking.
“It’s just fun to help people.”
“Yeah,” I say.
“So where are you from?”
“Virginia,” I say for the fiftieth time today. “Take a left up here.”
“What brings you all the way to Chicago?” She is way too cheerful.
“My dad met this woman online. I guess they fell in love, so he found a job up here and we moved.”
“You don’t sound too happy about it.”
“I’m not.”
“Oh,” she says softly.
“I’m sorry.” I turn to her. “I’ve just had a really bad day. I shouldn’t be taking it out on the girl who gave me a ride.”
“It’s cool.” She smiles. Her smile is so pretty. “I understand. You’re a freshman?”
“Yeah,” I say.
“That’s cool. I’m a senior this year. I’m guessing you go to Five Points?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Don’t worry, it’s not as bad as you think.” She pats my leg softly. I twitch. “You’ll make friends in no time.”
Easy for you to say, I think to myself. “I hope. I’m thinking about going out for the football team.”
“Oh really?” She seems excited. “My boyfriend, Anderson, he’s the captain this year.”
Oh God. Her boyfriend. Anderson. Team captain. This ride just got a whole lot worse.
“That’s cool,” I try to hide the disappointment.
“Yeah, he’s great.” She nods. “But don’t be upset if you don’t make it. Freshmen usually don’t.”
“I heard.”
“If you play tennis, we’re always looking for new players on the tennis team.”
“Really?”
“Yeah!” She looks at me and smiles. “I’ve been playing since I was little at my parents’ country club. It’s fun.”
“I used to play at our club back home.” I nod.
“Awesome.” She laughs. “You should definitely come out then. We need more guys.”
“Maybe I will.” I smile. “This is me up on the right.” I point to the small house. Evelyn still isn’t back, but my dad’s car is in the driveway.
“Are you sure?” Samantha looks puzzled.
“Yeah.”
“Isn’t this where Evelyn Rhodes lives?”
“Yeah.” How does everyone know my evil stepsister? “She’s my dad’s girlfriend’s daughter.”
“Oh...” Samantha looks down. “That’s cool.”
“Not really.” I shake my head. She smiles a little. “Thanks for the ride, Samantha.”
“No problem, Alex.” Her smile is back and she looks up at me. “I’ll see you at school. Don’t forget what I said about tennis team.”
“I won’t,” I say as I’m getting out of the car. “Are you sure you’re okay to drive these streets alone? It’s getting pretty dark.”
“Please,” Samantha snickers. “I’ve driven these streets a million times. This is my city. Besides.” She reaches into her bag. “I’ve got pepper spray.”
We both laugh. My first real laugh since I’ve been in this stupid city. “See you tomorrow.”
“Good night,” she says before driving away.
Inside, my dad is sitting at the dining room table with a bunch of papers scattered around him.
“Hey, Son.” He looks up at me and smiles.
“Hey.”
“How was your first day?”
“Horrible.” I empty my soup into a bowl and put it in the microwave. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Well, what made it horrible?”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Dad.”
“Don’t raise your voice to me, young man.” He stands up from the table and is next to me in a second.
“I’m sorry, Sir.” My voice is much quieter now. “I just had a really bad day, and I’d rather not talk about it right now.”
“Alright,” he sighs. “I understand. I know this has been hard on you. It’s hard for me too.” Doubt it. “But you’ve got to be strong right now. It’s what your mother would want.”
I hate when he does that. I hate when he says ‘it’s what my mother would want.’ No. My mother would want to be with us. Not here; in Virginia. She would want everything to go back to the way it was when we were all happy, and it was okay to be fat, and my friends were right down the street, and there were no gangs, and no jocks, and no stupid stepsisters. She would want that.
“Okay, Dad.” I manage to say it.
He puts his hand on my back. “That’s my boy.” He rubs his hand up and down over my sweater. “Now, don’t get carried away with those Doritos. Eat just a handful. And make sure you get your work out in tonight.”
He walks back to the table. I take the hot soup out of the microwave. It burns my hands. I want to throw it at him. I want to watch the soup burn his face. Would that make me strong? That’s what Mom would want, right? I guess I’ll have to do a thousand pushups and a thousand crunches. Then maybe Dad will think I’m strong.
“I’m trying out for the football team tomorrow.” I know that will make him happy.
“That’s good, Son.” He doesn’t look up from his work. “I hope you make it. You can do an extra set tonight. Then your muscles will be good and ready.”
I want to hit him. I want to throw something at him. I want to pound him on the head a thousand times. I want him to see that I’m not happy. I want to beat it into him. That’ll show him how strong I am. I want to scream at the top of my lungs, I’m not okay. But I can’t. Navy brats know how to hold their tongues.
“Yes Sir.”