by Kaila Glass
“Let’s vote,” said Quen. “All in favor of leaving?” Julio, Jamie Tru, and Izzy raised their hands. “All in favor of staying?” Blake, Quen and Rodney’s hands shot in the air.
“Wait a minute!” Julio interrupted, pointing at Rodney. “Who is this guy, anyway? He’s not a part of Nerds, Inc., so he can’t vote.”
“We could make him part of Nerds, Inc.,” Blake offered. “His name’s Rodney Hicks and he’s in our grade at Seven Hills.”
“How do we know he’s nerd enough?” Julio asked, arms crossed.
“I’m really good at math,” said Rodney. “When my dad and uncle opened their first auto shop in my hometown, I crunched all the numbers and filed their taxes every year. I’m taking Pre-Calc this year if you don’t believe me.”
The other kids murmured their fascination.
“What’s your elective?” Quen asked.
“Robotics.”
“That’s mine, too,” said Jamie Tru, giving a small smile. “You’re gonna love our class.”
“What are your hobbies?” Izzy asked.
Rodney scratched his head. “I have a bunch of them, but my top three are video games, masturbating, and solving really hard math problems.”
“We can’t let this guy in,” Julio declared. “He’s obsessed with fapping! He’ll make HQ all sticky!”
“What? It’s perfectly natural,” said Rodney. “And I don’t know about you, but I am not content with blue balls. In fact, raise your hand if you are.”
The only hand that rose in the air was that of Izzy.
“Put your goddamn hand down, Izzy,” said Julio through gritted teeth.
“Why?” Izzy asked. “I think it’s funny! I like this guy’s honesty, too.”
“Any friend of robots is a friend of mine,” said Jamie Tru.
“You’re cool with me so long as you promise to always wash your hands,” Quen told Rodney. “Let’s call for another vote. All in favor of joining Rodney?” All but Julio’s hand went up. “All opposed?” Julio’s was the only that rose. “Then it’s settled. Welcome to Nerds, Inc., Rodney!”
“Goddamn democracy,” Julio muttered, his arms crossed.
“Everyone here has a codename,” Jamie Tru said to Rodney. “I think Pepsi would suit you best, y’know, ‘cause your bottle’s always shaken up.”
The other members of Nerds, Inc. nodded their agreement.
Then, without warning, Julio pushed Blake into the pool. Blake swam to the surface. “Hey!”
“Yeah, jerk,” said Izzy. “I was gonna push him in when he least expected!”
“Why don’t you both join him?” Julio asked. He pushed Izzy in, causing a huge splash. Then, he turned to Rodney.
“You don’t have to ask me twice,” Rodney said before jumping. Jamie Tru and Quen soon followed, laughing all the way.
“Who wants to play Loch Ness?” Izzy screamed.
“I’d have to be crazy to agree to play Loch Ness with you,” said Jamie Tru.
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.” Izzy swam after him, while Blake, Quen, and Rodney struggled to hold her back.
Blake froze mid-tug, an unpleasant feeling creeping up his spine. He looked up; Julio glared down at him from the edge of the pool, his arms folded.
Blake swallowed.
Whoever heard of a McCracken without enemies, right? he thought.
14
Seven Hills
In the blink of an eye, June faded into July, which blossomed into August. When Blake awoke on the first day of school, his face wet with Rascal’s saliva, it seemed only yesterday that a small army of bloodthirsty teens and canines had sought for his end and a handful of self-proclaimed nerds asked him to join their clique. If Rascal weren’t there to lick him awake, Blake would have concluded that the last few months were nothing more than a bizarre lucid dream. Perhaps this was another one of Mirallegra’s miracles?
Blake showered and dressed in his uniform: black chinos, a white button-down, and a black tie. He and his brother stepped out into the hall at the same time. They stared at one another.
“You look like a tiny version of Dad,” Phoenix commented.
“You look like Dad with long hair and no beard.”
“‘Morning,” the boys chorused when they entered the kitchen.
“You look like men,” said their father, smiling through his neat beard.
Their mother’s heels clicked against the linoleum as she walked over with a steaming plate of eggs and placed it on the island. They fixed their plates and ate together at the nook.
“You want me to drop you off this morning?” their father asked. “Your school’s on the way to work.”
“No, I’m biking with my friends,” said Blake.
“I’m biking, too,” said Phoenix. “Mind if I tag along?”
Blake grinned. “You’ve never biked me to school before.”
Phoenix shrugged. “First for everything, right?”
When their plates were cleared, the boys gathered their bags. Blake’s mother kissed his cheek at the door before he grabbed his bike from the porch. Phoenix dodged their mother’s kiss on the way out, descending the stairs behind Blake with his bike over his shoulder.
Quen stood waiting with his bike outside their gate, waving.
“Hey, Phoenix,” said Quen. “You coming with us today?”
“That’s the plan,” Phoenix answered as he and Blake stepped out of the gate.
Without another word, they started down the street. The sun beat down on the back of Blake’s neck as they zigzagged through traffic and sped down the bike lane. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, each taking turns racing down his face.
It’s just like it was on the roof, said his Inner Critic. Is it happening again?
Blake looked at his brother beside him, watching the wind whip his long black mane. Though his hair was lively, his eyes were empty, a light blue void. If Blake was going to survive his first day at a new school, he would need to clear his mind, too.
I’m not in Rosewood anymore, Blake thought, shaking his head. It’s just hot today, that’s all.
The trio turned into a wide stone archway that read SEVEN HILLS PRIVATE SCHOOL in elaborate black letters. Dozens of students, all clad in black and white, climbed the front steps into the school building while others lingered on the front lawn. Blake, Quen, and Phoenix stopped at the bike rack at the foot of the stairs and locked up their bikes.
“I’ll see you later,” Phoenix told Blake as he made to leave. “Don’t put anyone’s eye out, alright?”
“No promises,” Blake said under his breath, watching his brother go.
“Was that Phoenix? Aww, I missed him!”
Izzy pulled up on her bike, Julio and Rodney tailing her.
“I never get to see him,” she complained, dismounting. She, like the rest of them, wore a white button-down tucked into her black chinos. Her hair was woven into two braids that snaked down the sides of her head and ended in a big puffball. “He’s so elusive, like an antelope, or an alien. You think he’ll let me braid his hair?”
“I think if you even touch it, he’ll body slam you,” Blake answered. “Please don’t try it, Izzy,” he added when a wicked grin spread across the girl’s face. “He’s really serious about his hair. The only one he lets come near it is Mom.” Blake looked away. “And he hasn’t even let her touch it lately.”
“I hope I get to meet him soon,” said Rodney, snapping his bike lock into place. “He just seems so cool! He writes music, right? And he plays, like, four instruments, so he’s basically a one-man band. And I bet he has tons of crazy stories from Rosewood, too!”
“That would be pretty cool,” said Julio, “but I doubt a junior would wanna hang around a bunch of eight-graders.”
“Yeah, and he’s a loner,” Blake added, “so convincing him to hang out with anyone would be impossible.” He looked around at his friends. “By the way, where’s Jamie Tru?”
“That should be him now,”
Julio answered, pointing.
Their heads swiveled to the stone archway, where two cars had pulled up: a black SUV and a red, roofless sports car.
“Aunt Charisse!” Blake called out, waving. The woman in the crisp white blouse who drove the sports car beamed and waved to her nephew as Finn climbed out of the passenger’s seat. Then, the back door of the black SUV opened, Peaches, dressed in a white button-down, a plaid skirt, and black stockings, hopped out onto the sidewalk, and walked through the stone archway with Finn as the SUV and sports car pulled off.
“Hey, Peaches,” said Blake. “You ready for your first day of school?”
Peaches stared at her black ballet flats and twirled the end of one of her French braids around her delicate finger. “I dunno,” she said in a low voice. “I’m… I’m kinda nervous.”
“Don’t be,” said Finn. “You have me. I’m new, too, remember? We can start sixth grade together.”
“And I’m here before and after school if you need me,” said Blake with a reassuring smile.
Peaches looked up, her light green eyes twinkling. “Thanks, guys.”
Julio appeared and Blake’s side and shoved him out of the way. “Where’s your brother, TB?”
“Hey!” Blake protested.
“Jamie Tru is still at home,” said Peaches.
“Why?” Julio demanded, his arms crossed.
“He can’t decide on his shoes,” Peaches sighed.
“Again? Ugh, he does this every year!”
“C’mon, Tess,” said Finn, taking her hand. “We better go find our homeroom.”
“Okay,” she replied in her soft voice. “Bye, guys. Bye, Big Brother.”
“I’d give anything for a girl that cute to call me Big Brother,” said Rodney as Finn and Peaches climbed the stairs. “Or better yet, Onii-chan.”
“Jamie Tru, why the hell are you still at home?” Julio screamed, his smartphone to his ear. “You’re gonna make us late!”
Quen held out his hand to Julio. “Let me talk to him… Jamie Tru, it’s Quen… Yeah…? What about the ones you bought last week? What? I thought you liked them?”
“So did I!” Julio chorused, throwing his hands up.
“Okay, what about the ones with the zipper up the side…? Which color? How many do you have?” Quen’s eyes widened. “Wow. Well, why not wear black to match your pants…?” He grinned. “Great! We’ll see ya soon.”
Julio took back his phone from Quen and checked the time. “There’s still some time. I’m gonna go take an angry shit.” Without another word, he fled up the stairs.
I didn’t know people took angry shits, Blake thought. Or is that just Julio?
“What are we waiting for?” Izzy exclaimed. “We need to find our homeroom, too. Let’s go!”
They followed Izzy up the stairs and entered the building. The group squeezed through the crowd of students that clogged the hallway and climbed a nearby staircase, exiting on the eight-grade floor. Though they were spread out along the long, white hallway, many of the eighth graders formed a throng in front of a bulletin board that hung in the middle of the hall; Nerds, Inc. joined them. Rodney, who was the tallest, peered over the students’ heads and read the bulletin board.
“Sweet! We all have the same homeroom teacher: Ms. Fulton.”
“What’s the room number?” Quen asked.
“Two-thirty-eight.”
“I’ll tell Jamie Tru,” said Quen, pulling out his phone.
As Nerds, Inc. walked down the hall, they passed other small cliques. Some giggled among themselves while others huddle together and whispered in secret. And a few unfortunate kids lingered alone, unsure of their place and intent on staring at their shoes.
“Two-thirty-four… two-thirty-six… two-thirty-eight,” said Izzy as she opened the door.
The classroom was empty apart from a few nervous-looking eighth-graders sitting at their desks and a bespectacled young woman in a long pencil skirt and a crisp, white blouse behind hers: Ms. Fulton.
“‘Morning,” the kids chanted as they entered.
“Good morning, everyone,” said Ms. Fulton as she shuffled through the papers on her desk. “Shoot, I knew I was missing something,” she muttered, standing. “I’ll be right back. Behave yourselves while I’m gone… Oh, hello Jamie. Welcome back,” she said as Jamie Tru appeared in the open doorway.
“It’s Jamie Tru, Ms. Fulton,” he said. “When are you gonna start callin’ me by my full name?”
“When you legally change it,” the teacher answered. The door slammed behind her.
“Just our luck,” said Jamie Tru to his clique. “And I thought we wouldn’t have time this year. Let’s do it there.” He pointed to an empty desk in the back.
“Perfect!” said Izzy.
They followed Jamie Tru to the back where he withdrew a stack of textbooks from his bag, set them down on the desk, and arranged them into an untidy pile. Quen and Izzy repeated his actions, placing their textbooks on the ground around the desk’s legs.
“What are you guys doing?” Blake asked.
“Setting up for my back-to-school picture,” said Jamie Tru.
Blake stared, and Jamie Tru explained further.
“Every year, kids get new back to school clothes, right? But we wear uniforms here, so the only thing we get to show off is our shoes. Every year, I take a picture of my new shoes and post it to my Instagram. I’m posing here this year.” He took his seat at the desk and tossed his feet atop his textbooks.
“So, that’s why you were late?” Blake asked, ogling Jamie Tru’s black leather sneakers, which looked like they cost more than his family’s mortgage. “You wanted to pick the perfect pair for your picture?”
“That’s right,” said Jamie Tru, crossing his legs. “By the way, Ms. Fulton will be back soon. One of you needs to watch the door.”
“One-two-three-not-it!” said Quen and Izzy in unison.
“Not it!” said Blake a millisecond too late. “Shit…”
Blake walked to the door, his friends laughing behind him. He raised himself on the tips of his toes, just tall enough to see through the small, rectangular window. The crowd surrounding the bulletin board had thinned, though a handful of clique still lingered. Then, at the end of the hall, making a hasty comeback was Ms. Fulton, papers in hand. He turned back. Izzy was crouched down at the base of the desk snapping pictures of her phone. Jamie Tru, meanwhile, pretended to be asleep, his arms folded behind his head. Blake opened the door, allowing students to enter before he made his way through and caught his homeroom teacher halfway down the hall.
“Ms. Fulton?”
“Yes…?”
“Blake. Uh… I’m new, and I’m kinda nervous.” He rung his fingers together.
Ms. Fulton beamed. “That’s perfectly normal. Just know that we’re happy to have you, Blake. Come along, homeroom is about to start.” She made to leave, but Blake stepped in the way.
“Wait, I’m scared.”
Ms. Fulton paused. “Scared of what?”
Blake looked around and pretended to ensure that there weren’t any students eavesdropping. “The other kids,” he whispered. “I was bullied a lot at my old school. They made fun of me for being smart, called me a nerd… What if no one here likes me? I don’t think I can make friends here.”
“Nonsense. Everyone at Seven Hills makes friends one way or another, and I’m confident that you’ll do the same.”
Blake looked up at the sound of footsteps. Ms. Fulton turned to see Julio hurrying down the hall.
Took him long enough, Blake thought. How long does it take to take an angry shit?
“Ah, Julio!” said Ms. Fulton. “You’re just in time. I want you to meet Blake. He’s new to Seven Hills.”
Can’t let him give me away, Blake thought. Gotta act fast.
Without much prior thought, Blake stuck out one of his feet, looked down at his sneaker, then back up at Julio, whose piercing grey eyes formed slits.
“What is
that, some kinda weird dance?” he asked.
“Uh…”
“‘Cause if it is, you suck.”
“Julio, that was very rude of you,” Ms. Fulton scolded.
“Well, the truth isn’t always polite, Ms. Fulton,” Julio said with a shrug. “In fact, the truth is usually really mean, like the fact that Blake here is paler than a ghost. He looks like he hasn’t gone outside since Obama took office. He probably thinks sunlight is just an urban myth.”
“Julio, that’s enough,” said Ms. Fulton, hands on her hips.
“Alright, alright,” said Julio, his hands held up in surrender. “But before I go, I have a little advice. Blake, you’re the skinniest kid I’ve ever seen. Don’t turn sideways when you get to homeroom. You don’t wanna be marked absent on your very first day of school.”
Ms. Fulton opened her mouth to speak but hesitated when the bell rang. “Let’s go, you two. It’s time for homeroom.”
Blake and Julio followed Ms. Fulton back into the classroom, where a chatty student filled nearly every desk. The only available seats were in the front row, which Nerds, Inc. had claimed for themselves. Blake sat beside Rodney and Julio took his seat next to Quen, with Izzy and Jamie Tru between them. Ms. Fulton stood behind her desk and signaled for the commotion to cease with a simple wave of her hand.
“Hello and welcome back to another year at Seven Hills Private School. I am your homeroom teacher Ms. Fulton. Before I hand out your schedules for the semester, I want to go over a few rules.
“You are to report to me every morning before your classes begin, or you will be marked absent. We also have a zero tolerance for tardiness. The first time you are late to class, you will receive a warning. If you let it happen a second time, however, you will be given detention.
“Every Friday is considered a “free day,” during which you will report to homeroom as usual but spend the first half of your day however you want: in the library, in the gym, in the courtyard, so long as you are on school grounds. However, you are to inform me of your plans for the day, because I will check up on you periodically.