Forest Lake High. This was Jason Blake’s school now. As he entered through the main gate Jason instantly felt trapped, dread and uncertainty washed through him. The crowd bustling around him glanced at him strangely but he was used to it. He had received those glances all of his life.
Jason was different.
He always had been, wherever he went, whoever he talked to, he made people uneasy, just by being near them. They could sense that his existence was wrong. Because of it, he’d given up on trying to make real friends, and succeeded only in the kind he just sat with at lunch to ease the pain of loneliness. But the sea of faces around him now were unfamiliar.
“New kid!”
Jason didn’t turn, though he was accustomed to the title.
“Hey, hey, new kid!” a hand clamped onto Jason’s shoulder, and his body tensed, ready to flip the assailant over him and slam him to the concrete ground. The gesture was done in sociability however, so Jason settled for removing the hand from his shoulder, a scowl darkening his pale face.
“Whoa, you got hands like a dead guy’s, dude,” the kid grinned. “I’m Caleb.”
Jason nodded once in acknowledgement, brushing his black hair from his eyes.
“It would be pretty cool if you told me your name too,” the kid hinted. “Since we’re going to be friends.”
“We are?” Jason asked, trying not to sound too disinterested.
“Hell yeah,” the kid grinned. “You seem pretty cool, and I’m a good judge of character! So who are you?”
Who Jason was was a completely different matter to his name. He refrained from saying as such, and reached to shake the kid’s hand. Caleb’s hand, he told himself to think of it as, seeing as this kid seemed like the first person Jason had ever met who didn’t shy away from him, didn’t mind touching him. “Jason, Jason Blake.”
“Awesome,” Caleb shook his hand vigorously, his small round head bobbing. “Well, Jace, we better get you to the office to get your time table.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Jason was taken aback by the instantaneous nickname. He’d never had one before.
A group of teenagers were sprawled around the grass on the side of the wide, concrete path. They grinned when they laid their eyes on Jason.
“Welcome to hell,” one said in a deep, evil sounding voice. “Muhahaha!”
“Get a life,” Jason retorted.
Caleb pushed through the crowd swearing at the kids who looked younger than him and apologizing to the kids who looked older and more capable of bashing him. Jason followed him closely to not be separated by the crowd.
“This main path goes straight through the school, at every turning point there’s a sign, you can’t get lost,” Caleb explained. “But you can follow me around until you know the routes off by heart. I don’t mind.”
“Caleb Trent, come here, please,” a voice drawled from behind.
Caleb groaned. “Bloody Mr Harper,” he muttered to himself. “Looks like I gotta go, see ya,” Caleb flashed Jason one last grin before scuffing over to a middle aged man with a full head of dark hair.
Caleb was nice, and he seemed cool enough, even if he was a little quirky. Jason had been relieved to have someone, but now he was on his own again, and kicking himself for letting the hope get to his head.
He was late when he finally found his English classroom in the maze of concrete buildings. Caleb had somehow beaten him, and sat in the back row. The only free chair was at the front. Jason paused at the door, the teacher was busy writing on the white board. He slipped in silently and took his seat. It would do him no good to get in trouble on his first day.
“Where did you get the shirt? Vinnies?” a girl whispered from behind.
Jason glanced down at his clothes as a few giggles went round the room.
He had in fact purchased his school uniform from Vinnies, the local second hand shop. That morning he’d pulled it on to discover it was several sizes too big. His father assured him he’d grow into it and said it was the fashion at Forest Lake High to wear your pants half way down your arse so he’d fit in just fine. Jason didn’t care what he said, he thought he looked like a retard, and had changed into his own black, chlorine-stained, cargo shorts. Unfortunately, wearing his own shirt would mean denied access to the school until he changed.
A paper ball smacked the back of his head. “Porby!” hissed a boy, his voice cracking. Jason twisted around to see a hairy kid in the back row grinning at him, his piggy eyes gleaming. Jason’s middle finger did all the talking, and beside the fat boy Caleb gave him the thumbs up.
Jason glanced at the person next to him. Either way his immediate thought would’ve been crap, but one look at her immaculate uniform, neat writing, hair tied back in a severe bun, books wrapped in plastic to protect them and colored pencils arranged in the order of the rainbow all pointed to one thing; she was a teacher’s pet. A goody-goody two-shoes. A nerd. Double crap. He was in for a year of getting dobbed in for everything he did.
If he lasted a year.
“Welcome to Forest Lake High,” the girl said, “You’re the infamous Jason Blake.”
Jason raised his eyebrows thinking, what the hell does infamous mean? “I’d forgotten my name, thanks for reminding me. But what might yours be?” he asked.
“Kim,” the girl smiled, showing all of her sparkly white, perfectly straight teeth.
The teacher turned around and adjusted his glasses. He looked at Jason. “Were you here before…?” The teacher was old, maybe sixty or so. His eyesight and memory probably weren’t all that good.
Jason gulped and tried his luck. “Yes.”
“Oh…” the teacher said. “Ok.” He turned back to the board.
Jason grinned and pulled a work book out of his bag as more giggles went around the classroom. With a teacher like this he could get away with murder.
He cringed at the thought, suppressing a shudder.
“Is it true?” Kim whispered, leaning towards him with wide brown eyes.
Jason wiped his sweaty palms on his short, then began fidgeting. “Is what true?”
“Did you really set fire to your old school hall?”
Jason’s eyes slid closed. Why could he not just curl up and die? “No,” he replied, his voice gruff. “That was a misunderstanding.” A misunderstanding. How could that apply? People don’t die in a misunderstanding. No, they die when Jason tries to be a hero.
“What happened?”
“Would you sod off?” Jason snapped. “I’m trying to work.” The twelve year old didn’t even have a pen on him, let alone an exercise book. Feeling guilty for snapping at the girl, whom he would later have to borrow a pen from, he put his head in his hands and tried not to think. But the flames consumed his mind.
