We'll dance again

I fly out of bed at seven thirty. Four and a half hours sleep will get me through to lunch where, if I’m lucky, I’ll find a nice bathroom cubicle where I can take a nap.
My mom drops me to school plenty early so I get to wait around in the halls getting stares from everyone nearby. The bell goes off and I push my way in to more geometry to try get a seat that isn’t under Mr. Roberts’ nose. I’m hoping he won’t notice me take a nap if I sit in the back or shielded by the glare or morning light from a window.
Somehow I’m one of the first people in the room yet one of the last to sit down and manage to grab a seat between a guy with a cold and a girl who has all the work done within seconds so she can scrape things into the desk. I don’t think I want to read that desk.
At lunch I can’t find a nice cubicle in the bathroom. In fact I can’t find a bathroom. This school is smaller than my old one and yet I’ve managed to get so lost I’ve entered a part of the school facing out over a swimming pol. I didn’t even know there was a swimming pool.
I find my way down and outside. The pool is stretched out before me like a blue road to hell because at the opposite side is a long red wall. I’m curious to see what’s on the other side but I don’t want to get even more lost.
More tired than I had planned, I march around the edge of the school. For a flatish small building its walls seem to go on forever. There’s a shady few steps where I envision all the emos or maybe band kids would hang out because it’s outside the band room but no one sits there. Every student at this school seems to be cut of the same plain cloth. Why am I here? I bet the other school has people who I wouldn’t hate.
The front steps are in front of me but that only promises an expedition to find my locker and classes again.
When I’m finally at my locker again trying to balance all the books I hear footsteps. “Hey you!” a gruff voice says.
I turn around. “Yea you. You’re that kid who told me I’m wrong in English,” the guy says. I knew that’d come back to haunt me. But seriously, how can you mispronounce every third word? “You’re the new kid so shut up. My girlfriend’s in that class and you made me look real stupid.”
“I think you did a good enough job of that yourself,” I say the words before I can stop myself. Fuck.
The guy’s eyes narrow. “You think you is some sort of funny guy, huh?” Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“No, I just know I’m literate,” why am I still talking, “and you aren’t.” Okay shut the fuck up Iero, I like the way your throat is, unslit. The guys fists ball up and he glares a glare that could freeze fire.
He breathes a calming breath. “I’m not going to beat the shit out of you right now, because there’s teachers everywhere but also because I’m a nice guy.” With that he knocks all my books onto the floor, pulls the things at the bottom of my locker out and shoves me in. I’m trying to push against but he’s strong and I’m currently bent very awkwardly inside a metal box. The door swings closed and I hear the feint sound of a lock. Fuck.

I spend the last ten minutes of lunch and the first ten minutes of chemistry shoved inside my locker. I’m not sure whether it’s from lack of oxygen or tiredness but at some point I pass out. I only wake at my liberation. The metal door creaks open and I fall out on top of a guy with huge hair. He looks quite shocked at the fact that some dude just fell on him out of a locker. I would be too. I’d be shocked just to find a junior who fits in a locker.
“Oh… Sorry… Thanks…” I mumble rolling off the guy and onto linoleum.
“It’s okay. And um you’re welcome. I saw the stuff on the ground and was just going to put it back in…” He says standing up. He has really amazingly big hair. “I should get back to class, are you okay”
“Yea. I’m okay now, thanks again.”
“It’s cool.” He walks off at a quick pace in the direction I think the bathrooms are in. I don’t really feel like going to chemistry anyway so I organize my locker and go sit in a janitors closet for a nap.

I don’t have as much homework today and am finished and fed by five thirty. I decide on my way down the road that I’ll go back to the library car park.
I glide through the park which is now full of elderly people and children. In the next few hours this scene is going to become it’s polar opposite.
The library is still open when I get there but there’s only one car. Out of respect and the assumption it belongs to the librarian I skate on the other side. I’m trying to do a 540 shove it on the flatland and floor myself. Perfect timing four two girls with long braids and freckled faces to emerge from the library. They don’t laugh at my failure, just roll their eyes and murmur “uneducated emo” and continue walking toward the park. What lovely people this town sports.
I keep trying to do the shove it when I hear wheels on tarmac. I look up in mid-air and lose concentration. I completely flop myself again landing ungracefully on the tarmac, scraping my palms and leaving a small hole in each knee of my jeans. Excellent.
I hear sniggering. When I finally find the will to lift myself from kissing the ground I see a group of guys about my age on skateboards looking down at me. “Didn’t you read the sign boy, no bad skateboarding,” one with black hair says. Okay that’s not a good thing to differentiate them with because all but one has black hair.
“Uh yea I read it,” I’m not really sure what to say. Probably could have come up with something more sarcastic or clever but my attention is caught by a guy in the back. He’s wearing eyeliner and the same shirt as me.
One of the black haired ones skates forward a bit, “Who are you? I don’t think I’ve seen you before and I thought I knew all the boarders.”
“Yea I’m new. My name’s Frank,” I say picking up my board as it begins to roll away.
“I’m Pete,” another one with black hair says, skating behind the other guy and smiling.
“Hi,” I manage to say before they are all being introduced by Pete who is now skating in between everyone.
“This is Gabe,” he says going between the sarcastic dude and me, “this is Gerard,” he waves at the guy who stole mu outfit, “his brother Mikey and our converted skater Bert. I like your shirt by the way, the misfits’ rock.”
Gerard’s head snaps up and his eyes settle on my shirt and he smiles. The dude is kind of hot… Temptation to say “my eyes are up here” is strong but I fight against it.
I nod slowly. People are never this friendly straight off. And they certainly never compliment my clothes. Maybe they’re going to beat me up… Then I notice under his hoodie Pete is wearing a Metallica shirt.
“What school are you in, I didn’t notice any new students in my year, what about yours Mikey?” Pete asks, Mikey shakes his head.
“I’m in Riverside,” I say carefully. I hadn’t seen these guys at my school but I pray to something that they’re in my school too.
Pete’s face falls, “Aw shit man, that school is full of… um…”
“Hipsters?” prompts Gabe, now trying a simple Ollie.
“Yea…” everyone’s skating now.
“How did you find our skating spot?” one asks going toward the ramp. Bert, I think.
“Uh I just skated through the park… I’ll go now,” I mumble putting my board on the ground and making my way toward the park again.
“You don’t have to!” at least two say at the same time. This feels really weird.
What’s weirder is when I stay they just do what I assume normal skater guys do: skate. They skate and play music and skate and talk about music.
I’m really shy at first until someone has an opinion completely opposite to mine. “No, no, no. The significance is…” or “Yea but the guitar in that song is way better than any of their new stuff.” I feel like one of those “I like their earlier stuff people” but the others don’t seem to notice.
We all decide to leave at the same time, skating through the park in V formation like we’re some kind of gang, not five guys and some dude they just met who disagrees with them on the best Iron Maiden song.
We pass two teenagers making out in the middle of the path. Gabe throws stones at them until they move. I wish I could throw stones too because the guy had shoved me in a locker.
“You should have said I would have thrown more, bigger, sharper ones,” Gabe grins as we sit on a park bench. Gerard is tightening his wheels or something. The sky above is brown and there are orange flickering lights all over the park, every third one broken or just dead. “Seriously I can’t believe you went to riverside,” Gabe says staring off into the distance, “it’s a school full of pricks who do sports like football and baseball and get into top colleges just because they can do that.”
“I didn’t know which school was better my mom decided, I’m from New Jersey,” I say standing up. It’s embarrassing how I’m standing and only now as tall as the sitting Gabe.
We skate out of the park, kicking up gravel and dust in our wake. At the edge of the park we go our separate ways, Gerard and Mikey skating with me onto my street. We reach their door houses before mine. “Wanna hang out tomorrow?” Gerard calls over his shoulder.
“Yea sure!” I skate home grinning like an idiot.

When I’m in bed later I open my laptop. Five friend requests. I start grinning at my screen like an absolute dork. Accept, accept, accept, accept and accept. I don’t think I’ve ever had so many people actually want to talk to me… It feels way better than having two people to talk to, both of which prefer each other’s company way more. Actually I’m not even sure if they liked me at all, just pitied. Either way, I have people to throw stones at jocks with now, even if they’re not in my school.

Notes

Here's the shorter, second installment. Next chapter might take longer but as soon as it's finished i'll post it here :)))