Only The Strong Survive (ch. 2- Tikaani)

The morning bell rang clear and strong, dismissing us from the commons to our lockers.

I’d think that if the government wanted us to go to school that they’d create a less drab learning environment. Lockers line halls of yellow and beige tiles that amplify sounds by tenfold- creating a hypnotizing, mundane, and loud existence for six and a half hours a day.

Everyone in high school seems to walk at a literal snails’ pace and don themselves with many weird colognes and perfumes. All of these attributes irritate me, so I passed the groups with ease, their artificial scents washing over me.

I wrinkled my nose distastefully.

After seven years I had given up telling people anything I’d smelled or heard. I stopped because this ended with them giving me that ‘your mother should test your sanity’ look and blatant disregard. Then I’d get that look of pity, and I am not a pity chaser.

So essentially I was sick and tired of talking to people who don’t understand me, who knew I was weird.

And I am weird, openly so. People always think I’m weird, because I dress in abstract ways and don’t spend time on my hair, or hang out with the popular people. I figure that if you’re a decent person it shouldn’t matter if you were popular or not. I’m not popular for oh so many reasons, currently because of my latest anti-trendy look. These result with me looking like I do now- a reasonably unknown band’s concert tee shirt, loose jeans, my bright auburn hair tied with a camo hair tie so I could actually see.

I made it to the other end of the hall to my locker without too much difficulty. I opened my locker and swung my backpack into it, leaving my binder and books in my locker because first period was gym and I’d need none of it.

Jogging back across the school, I made it into the changing room early. After all, I’m not popular and I don’t have any friends to talk too. I was changed and in the gym before the minute bell rang.

Today was soccer, so I went to the rack and dribbled one out.

But apparently I wasn't not the only person who could change quickly. Another guy, a tall redhead in our school colors of blue and gray was there, testing the air pressure in them.

Turning, he acknowledged my presence and smiled with pale green eyes. “Hey,” he said kindly.

“Hey,” I replied. “Are you new here? I haven’t seen you in the halls.”

New boy nodded, “Yeah, I moved here a week ago but just got enrolled into school now. My name is Maguyuk.” He was silent, as if expecting me to laugh at his name. “But my friends back where I lived called me Mag.”

“Okay Mag.” I said smiling, which was uncommon. “Cool name, mine is Tikaani.”

“That must be a bitch to spell,” he smirked. Mag had a loud voice, and soon the people who had come in were staring at us strangely.

“Eh, you get used to it.” I scoffed, thinking of the multiple ways our names could be messed up.

Maguyuk laughed harder than anything I’d said warranted, making people give us suspicious looks.

Soon enough the gym teacher came in an started dividing us into teams. Mag and I were on the same team.

We walked back into our given team and I awaited the call for us to run out into the soccer game.

Mr. Jacobsen, our gym teacher, had gotten us all psyched up but had, as accustom, forgotten to take roll. Just last week I’d gotten him to perfect how to pronounce my name because of my grueling stubbornness of ‘tick-on-knee’ to help him. So I empathized with Mag when Mr. Jacobsen butchered his name. “Justin, Ellie, Tikaani, Caleb, and Mag-Maguyook go in next. Get ready!”

Bracing my leg against the wall, I burst off the wall at the teacher’s whistle and rough shout of ‘Free ball!’

I went running toward it but Mag blew passed me and got to it first like an Olympic sprinter, sending it flying across the floor.

This kid, this ‘Mag’ kid, didn’t seem like a normal person, his smell that is. People have smells, and yet people still don’t believe me when I tell them. Not only did he smell different, but he was lean and sculpted like a Greek god for a guy of sixteen. I didn’t find too many people hot, but hot damn I wouldn’t deny that Mag was better looking than anyone at the school. Who had that kind of body except young Marines and models? And still yet, nobody our age could wail on a soccer ball like that.

Now that got me thinking.

I blocked the sneak attack goal and continued thinking. Only one other person in the entire school smelled like that, and that was that one preppy girl- Taffia.

I blocked another goal shot with ease, causing cheering from my team.

Taffia and Mag- how were they similar?

All three of us had unique hair: Mag was more of a ginger, Taffia was a 'honey brunnete', and I had darker red hair. So I didn’t think that counted as a similarity. We were all kind of tall. But the only legitimate similarity between the three of us was that we had weird names.

At the end of the game (we lost) everything went wrong- but it was only when I tried taking my bus home that things went completely weird.

That’s when the day officially sucked.