The next day our first class was English and Casey sat in front. I was not your "good boy" so I sat at the back of the class.

As I told Mr. Stone, I didn't tell Casey about what he'd said. I didn't want to create unnecessary drama between them and make things awkward between Casey and I.

We had Mr. Winslow for English. I awaited his annoying voice to send me to my slumbers, but none came. Instead, there was tapping. Mr. Winslow was sitting on his chair, tapping on the desk, and rhythm was something he didn't have.

"No class today?" Eric Anderson asked, grabbing his schoolbag and getting ready to stand up.

Eric Anderson was the bad boy of the class. He made noise, gave awful answers to easy questions and disrupted the class every chance he got, kind of like I was. Maybe that was why we had an understanding.

"Sit down Anderson!" Mr. Winslow barked.

Eric slumped down into his seat. A few more minutes of tapping...

I only came to class to get both my mom and Casey off my back so I did not mind. I merely opened my magazines and paged through. Eric opened his mouth.

"Not a word from you Anderson. Anyway, let us get started, we have wasted enough time already" Mr. Winslow said, getting off his chair.

"...We?" Terry Roe asked. Another bad boy...

"Okay class, today we'll be talking about short stories...." Mr. Winslow said, ignoring Terry's question.

Suddenly, the door opened.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I am lost. Is this English?"

We all looked at the girl who had just walked in. She was beautiful, extremely beautiful with long brunette hair and grey eyes. Her body was just immaculately built, every breast and every curve carved with immaculate precision. Her eyes opened up a world of possibilities, while her lips invited you to heaven. Her skin was pure olive, probably never been touched by dirty hands. Her long thick eyelashes fluttered, and so did my heart.

"Yes Miss Cornwall, we have been expecting you", Mr. Winslow said. "...over 13 minutes ago", he added, looking at his watch.

"I'm sorry. I was lost", the girl said in her sweet voice.

"You should have come earlier. Coming late on your first day is not impressive. I had set out the first fifteen minutes of class for introductions. They will get to know you as time goes on. Anyway class, this is Amanda Cornwall, our new student".

Eric opened the applause. She had definitely stolen a few hearts.

When the applause died down, Mr. Winslow said," now Miss Cornwall, you can sit next to Mr. Stone, right over there".

"Whoa wait, introduction!" Eric shouted.

"Time has already evaded us Mr. Ander..." Mr. Winslow began but Eric interrupted with calls for an introduction. Few students joined him. Surprisingly, I stayed quiet.

"Okay, okay! Well Miss Cornwall, the class has spoken".

Amanda looked shyly at the class and back at Mr. Winslow. She brushed her hand and smiled.

"There is not really much to tell. My name is Amanda Cornwall. You can call me Mandy. I am 18 years old. I have just recently moved here from Silica Town. I play tennis. I love bowling and hiking. After graduating high school I want to study medicine. Yeah, that is it".

Mr. Winslow seemed impressed.

"A girl with dreams, unlike you Anderson...and of course, you Linley", he said.

I raised my eyes. What was wrong with that man? What had I done?

"I do see those magazines you know", he said smirking.

"Good. Then you know that you bore more to a point of sleep...but this desk is way too rough for me to sleep on", I said yawning.

The class burst into laughter. Mr. Winslow just couldn't let me be good for a day, could he? Amanda walked to her seat by Casey's side. I looked for a hint of a stifled laugh or a smile, but none was there. What the...? Even Casey was laughing. I mean, I did not crack that joke to make her laugh even though it was not a joke but the truth, but surely she had a sense of humor?

"High five!" Eric shouted at me.

I held my hand up, imitating a high-five.

Mr. Winslow sighed. The dimple on his chin suggested he was biting the skin in front of his lower teeth, probably debating what to say to me that would wound me as much as what I said wounded him. It was not as if I made it up, he really did bore me, especially when he talked about similes and metaphors and blah-blah. I needn't know them, my English was fine.

He sighed again and his face relaxed. I had clearly won. He gave me one last look and then focused on the class in general.

"Today, I am going to teach you how to write a story and then, you are going to write one on your own and read it in front of the class, next week Monday, no excuses. Afterwards the class will ask you questions based on the story. Any genres are allowed, but your story must be appropriate...."

"Sorry sir, is a story about having sex with my girlfriend appropriate? I will detail it perfectly", Marcus Taylor asked.

There was a lot of whistling in the room. Apparently, Marcus was "the man". I raised my eyes a bit to see Mr. Winslow's fuming face. He was not necessarily good-looking, and frowning did not do him any good. He was balding, and at that moment, it looked as if more hair had fallen off at Marcus's question. It was a funny sight to watch.

I cast my eyes back to my magazine. I saw a car I liked and did the arithmetic of the cost in my head. Although I hated math, I was pretty good with numbers. Math was the only subject I excelled in, without even trying. I never really tried anything. It wasn't because I was lazy, I just lost interest. Concentrating on anything was a lot of work. I had long suspected I had ADHD, but it hadn't been clinically diagnosed.

"No Mr. Taylor. It's not appropriate", Mr. Winslow said calmly. "Now class, give me any short stories you know".

Five hands shot up. Ever since seeing my dream car, I had lost interest in the magazine and actually paid attention to Mr. Winslow. Lana "the nerd" and Vanessa Costner had their hands up, even Casey and the new girl too. Eric also had his hand up. He had an answer for everything.

Mr. Winslow nodded at Vanessa.

"Red sky, by Laura Wilkinson", she said.

He nodded and then pointed at Casey.

"Velvet, by Olivia Hans"

"...an extraordinary author", he mused, then, "Miss Cornwall?"

"Lands of Azuria, by Nathaniel Baker", Amanda replied, cracking her knuckles as she did.

My heart started beating faster. I could swear I had heard that name before. Azuria... Where had I heard it? Could I have come across that book? Where? I had a library pass because Casey forced me to get one. I had never been at the library. The only book I had ever opened was my notepad, and it was full of drawings.

"Hmm, I have never heard of it. Yes Miss O'Connor?"

"The color of my skin, by Laura Wilkinson"

"Very well. In class, we will be doing..."

There was loud coughing.

"Got something stuck in your throat Mr. Anderson?" Mr. Winslow asked. You could see irritation on his face. It was actually funny.

"No. See sir, I had my hand up, you passed me. Now I understand that it might be time for you to get your glasses, so I will forgive your mistake. I am ready to give my answer".

Mr. Winslow resigned to Eric's demand. "Go ahead", he said.

"Thank you. I read this book a while ago...."

Mr. Winslow rolled his eyes. Even I could not believe Eric read a book, unless of course that book was a playboy magazine.

"The book is called, "How I fucked your mother well", by Taylor Anderson. I know what you are thinking, but no, we are not related. Boy, I wish we were! He is such a good fucker...I mean writer. It is pretty detailed..." Eric said, in that dramatic tone that he always used.

Everyone laughed; everyone except Mr. Winslow. Even Amanda laughed.

"Anderson!" Mr. Winslow reprimanded.

"You do not believe me? I have it with me here if you want to take a look at it," Eric said, acting slightly wounded, and then," Be warned sir, you will be hooked, that is, if your, err...."

He looked down Mr. Winslow's pants and I immediately knew what he meant to say at the end.

The class, finally getting it, laughed. If you did not know it, you would swear there was a thunderstorm outside. Eric was crazy, but that day he was worse.

"Anderson, get out of my class!" Winslow shouted amidst the laughter.

"Wow, this is a new record", Eric said as he grabbed his bag and headed to the door. "Now I'll have to last fewer minutes in class tomorrow than I did today".

"Better yet, don't come to class!" Mr. Winslow bellowed.

The laughter died down.

"Anyone want to follow him?" Winslow asked.

I most definitely hated being in class, but I kept quiet. Sometimes I rebelled publicly and sometimes, I never cared. He hadn't yet filled in the attendance register. I was itching to get out of class, but I was determined to be a good boy that day. I kept my hands on the metal legs of my desk, tightening my grip. It was like as if my hands would go against my wishes and shoot right up.

"Very well, let's continue".

*

After English, I had Spanish. Spanish was the only class I did not have with Casey. After English we had met in the corridor outside class and discussed where to meet after class.

I casually walked into Spanish class. As usual, I was late. Spanish class was not interesting, just like English class. I did not even know why I was enrolled in Spanish class, maybe because my middle name was Alejandro. I scanned the class for my friend Logan while Mrs. Montez watched me suspiciously. Not that I cared.

For some reason, Logan was sitting in front. As soon as I saw the person he was sitting next to, I knew why. Her perfect head was hidden from view by Logan's big one, but her hair told me all I needed to know.

"Will you sit down Mr. Linley?" Mrs. Montez asked impatiently.

"Err, I really cannot make up my mind on where to sit", I lied, knowing I would irritate her.

"Let me help you out. Sit next to our new student", she said.

Her eyes were shiny. It was a challenge.

"Well, Mr. Linley?"

I hesitated. I could see Mrs. Montez was enjoying that. I scanned the room one last time. It was not that I did not want to sit next to Amanda; I just did not sit in front. It was not me. I looked at Amanda and Logan. They seemed to be engaged in a gripping conversation. There was a vacant seat just next to Amanda.

"Very well, Mercedes", I said, addressing Mrs. Montez by her first name.

She stared daggers at me and I shrugged, smirking. I walked over to Amanda and Logan. I took my seat on Mandy's right side quietly.

"Yo, Rile, I thought you were not coming to class", Logan said.

"...Would not miss it for the world".

My sarcasm went right over the top of his head and he said," Any reason in particular?"

"Yeah, I just love Spanish and Mrs. Montez is a great teacher", I said with false enthusiasm.

I had a sarcastic mouth. Mr. Winslow had once told me it was the only thing I was good at. Sensing my sarcasm, Amanda smiled.

"Where are my manners? Mandy, this is my friend Riley, Riley this is Mandy", Logan did the introductions.

I was tempted to tell Logan that he did not really have manners, but I decided against it.

"Nice to meet you", Mandy said casually.

"Likewise", I said smiling.

"You are in my English class, right?" She asked.

I nodded.

"Class..." Mrs. Montez began her usual lullaby. As usual, I zoned out. Normally, Logan and I would have had conversations at the back, but it was not easy to do so at the front.

My mind drifted off t nothing in particular.

When it came back to the class I found Mandy looking at me curiously. I looked around and everyone was concentrating on Mrs. Montez. I turned and look into Mandy's eyes. She looked away. I realized that she did not swiftly look away, more like took her time. She did not feel embarrassed being caught staring.

I looked around and everyone had their books out. I took my notepad out. As I paged through my drawings, Mandy whispered,

"Nice. Did you draw those?"

I nodded. I continued paging, hoping there was a blank page left so I could draw throughout that boring period.

"You'll know!" I heard a voice. The voice repeated itself over and over again. It was a female voice. I looked around, searching for the source of the voice. The class was dead quiet; no one seemed to be fazed by the yelling.

All of sudden, I felt like I was an outsider, looking into the class. I felt invisible, like no one could see me, no one, but one.

"What's your inspiration for this?" Mandy asked quietly, pointing to a drawing. It was a drawing of a room. There was a girl in the room, chained to a bed. The girl's face was not shown, but she could be no more than 17 years old. I noticed Mandy's eyes seemed bigger than before.

"When the time comes, you'll know" a voice said.

I frowned. The voice had not come from the class. It seemed to have come from me. How? I had not opened my mouth.

Mandy raised her brow, indicating that she wanted an answer.

"I really don't know. That picture just came to mind".

"She who will..." another voice said. No, it was the same voice as earlier.

I came upon a blank page. I started sketching. Immense pain lashed through my hand and I dropped my pencil. The pain disappeared as swiftly as it came. I frowned as I reached for my pencil. Mandy also reached for my pencil and our heads ended up butting against each other.

"Alejandro! Alejandro! Alejandro! Run for your life!" A voice said. It was a different voice now. It was more violent and more present, my head started spinning.

"I am sorry. I just thought I should get your pencil for you. I am sorry", Mandy apologized, massaging my forehead as she did.

"Don't!" I said, removing her hand from my forehead callously.

She looked hurt. I wished I could take it all back, but I could not, yet she was so selfless she had wanted to ease my pain first, not hers.

"I see you have already managed to poison our new student Mr. Linley. Pay attention Miss Cornwall", Mrs. Montez's voice butted in.

"I need to breathe", I said standing up. I walked as fast as I could out of the classroom, not waiting to hear what Mrs. Montez said. The corridors were deserted. I walked to the bathroom and sat on the toilet seat for some minutes. I took two long deep breaths, trying to remember something, anything. That last voice... It had not been the first time I heard it. I definitely had heard it somewhere, but where? I closed my eyes and concentrated hard. I focused my mind, hoping to hear that first voice again. It was hopeless. I shrugged, giving up. I had slept late the previous night, watching a movie. The movie must have been be etched in my brain, simple as that.

I looked at my left hand, my drawing hand. I did everything else, even wrote, with my right hand. Drawing was my left hand's specialty. The voices may have been imaginary, but the pain had been real. I stretched my hand. It seemed fine. What was happening to me?

*