THE ENTIRETY OF the next week was a lonely blur of school registration, class scheduling and shopping for supplies. Derrick wondered what that first day would be like, starting sophomore year in a new place. Despite being a grade apart, both he and Cassandra had the same history class—World History—since their previous school taught the history classes in a different order.
On the morning of that first day, Derrick got dressed, pulling on a pair of jeans, his black Chuck Taylors and a black t-shirt emblazoned with the CBGB logo across the front. He’d never been to New York, never even been to a punk rock concert before, but he’d once seen the lead singer of the Third Eye Blind wearing the exact same shirt. He found one at the mall in Clearwater back at the beginning of summer and snatched it up almost immediately.
Going into the kitchen, he found Cassandra sitting at the kitchen bar in one of the stools that resided at it. Though Doug’s house—their house, he had to remind himself, though it still didn’t quite feel like home—had a formal dining room, they ate most of their meals together at the bar in the kitchen. Cassandra was working on a bowl of cereal when Derrick walked in. Her hair, normally frizzy and curled, was straightened, falling well below her shoulder blades. She wore a skirt that barely went to her knees. Turning to see him as he shuffled in, she gave him a once over.
“You look like a slob,” she said.
“Well, you look like a prep,” he retorted.
Cassandra scoffed as she shoved a spoonful of Froot Loops in her mouth. Dee came down from upstairs, followed by Doug in his police uniform.
“Good morning,” Dee said. She looked at Derrick. “That’s what you’re wearing on the first day?” she asked, giving him a judgmental up-and-down.
Derrick shrugged. “This is what I like.”
“I just thought you’d want to make a good first impression,” his mother said.
Doug clapped him on the shoulder. “Leave the boy alone. You want him to go to school on the first day looking like Urkel?”
“Well, no,” Dee argued. “But I don’t want him looking like Kurt Cobain either.”
Derrick feigned mourning. “May he rest in peace,” he muttered.
Cassandra scoffed again. “God, he’s been dead since we were in kindergarten.”
“It’s only been five years, Cass,” Derrick said as he shot her a look of disdain. “I know you were in kindergarten five years ago, but only because you had to repeat it a half dozen times.”
“Whatever,” Cassandra said. “Anyway, don’t talk to me today. I don’t want you to ruin my first day by people knowing we’re related.”
“Cassandra Nicole,” Dee said as she poured a cup of coffee after pulling a mug from the counter. “That’s not nice.”
“I’m not trying to be nice, mom,” she said. “I’m trying to make new friends.”
“I don’t want people thinking I’m the brother of some snobby prep like you anyway,” Derrick said.
“That’s enough,” Dee said, her hands on her hips. “Both of you.”
Doug chuckled to himself as he held out his travel mug for Dee to fill from the glass carafe. He kissed her. “Alright. I’ll see you guys this evening,” he said. “Enjoy your first day. And please, don’t give your mom a hard time.”
“We won’t,” both Derrick and Cassandra said, almost in unison.
“I won’t be home until close to seven,” Doug said as he sipped his coffee. “What kind of pizza do you guys want? I’ll stop by Pizza Point on my way home.”
“Do they have deep dish?” Derrick asked.
“They make a great Chicago-style pie,” Doug said. “That sounds really good.”
Dee and Cassandra both requested a supreme pizza, full of mushrooms, peppers and Italian sausage. Derrick preferred his pizza simple—pepperoni and cheese.
Doug kissed his fiancé again and left through the garage door. Cassandra went back to her cereal as Derrick poured himself a bowl from the box. He poured in enough milk until the bowl nearly overflowed with pastel rings of sugar.
“We need to leave in about 15 minutes,” Dee said.
“I think I’m going to walk,” Derrick said.
Dee raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? You don’t want to be seen with mom on the first day?”
Derrick mumbled a “No, I think I’ll be fine” with a mouthful of cereal.
“God, Derrick. Don’t talk with your mouth full. It’s rude,” Cassandra hissed.
In response, he rolled his eyes and shoved another spoon of cereal into his mouth, chomping loudly.
Dee snapped her fingers. “What did I say? Be nice.” The last two words were sharp and succinct.
After finishing his breakfast, Derrick grabbed his backpack and Walkman from his bedroom, kissed his mom goodbye and started down the road. As he walked on the sidewalk, he glanced at the house next door, the one where the girl that he’d seen the night they moved in lived. He’d seen her in passing a couple of times since, every time stopping in his tracks. He had no idea what her name was or anything else about her other than that she lived next door and she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. He hoped that, as he walked past, she would come out from the front door at the same time. In his imagination, he thought about walking to school together.
“Oh hey,” he would say. “You walk to school too?”
“I do,” she would answer. “What grade are you in?”
“I’m a sophomore.”
“No way! Me too!”
They would walk side-by-side and he would fall in love with every word she spoke.
However, it didn’t happen. He walked by, the front door held shut, not seeing the girl next door. After he passed her house, he pulled his headphones over his shaggy blonde hair and pushed play on the Walkman. He had put in a tape that Doug had found in the attic. It was from a band called Goo Goo Dolls. Derrick had heard a couple of their songs, but Doug explained that before they were mainstream, they were a punk band from Buffalo, and that he should give the tape a listen. So, he shoved it in the device before walking out the door and let the sounds drown out his anxiety and first-day jitters. He found himself bobbing his head to the music. It was raw and edgy. He couldn’t believe this was Doug’s at one time.
The walk to school was an uneventful eight blocks. As he got closer to the campus, he saw more cars, could hear the cacophony of music blaring from vehicle sound systems in the high school’s parking lot.
The sprawling campus looked huge, from the main building, to the gym and football field. As he got closer, Derrick pulled his class schedule from his back pocket to determine which door to go through. The first class listed was Biology I, in room 1102. His mother had brought both him and Cassandra to the school earlier that week to see where their classes were, but now he wished he’d spent more time paying attention to the exact location of each classroom. He hadn’t even made it to the front doors of the school and he already felt lost.
In front of the school, sandwiched between the front entrance and a large horseshoe drive through, was a collection of round concrete tables and benches. There were several groups of students congregated there, all different stereotypical cliques. It didn’t matter which school or which city you were in, the group dynamics remained static. A huddle of boys in athletic shorts and letter jackets—despite the temperature climbing close to eighty degrees in the afternoons—stood together while another group of boys in baggy jeans and beanies played hacky sack in a circle nearby.
There was a group of girls huddled together, backpacks slung over their shoulders. Though Derrick scanned their faces for the girl next door, she was nowhere to be seen.
Derrick didn’t know where to go. He knew he would stick out like a sore thumb sitting by himself on one of those concrete tables, but he didn’t know how to approach any of the kids to introduce himself. Before he could, the bell rang, a sharp, high-pitched chime breaking through the sound of music in his headphones. He fell in order behind the rest of the students as they all started making their way into the halls of the school.
Fluorescent lights above them shone brightly, reflecting off the speckled linoleum floor. The lockers lining the hallway, all in Mount Vernon maroon and white, were rushed upon as students began depositing their backpacks and pulling supplies for their first classes.
Derrick looked again at his class schedule and decided to try to spend the next four minutes looking for the classroom. He’d find his locker later.
“1102,” he said aloud to himself. An open door close by had a black plaque with white lettering mounted next to it. It read 1120, which meant he should be able to find 1102 at the end of this long hall.
Shouldering his way down the hallway, Derrick followed the plaques mounted beside each door until he got to 1102. He stood in front of the door and stared at it, confused.
It was the supply closet.
He looked down at his schedule again to verify that he’d read it correctly then looked back up at the sign on the wall beside the door: 1102 SUPPLIES
“Are you lost?”
The girl’s voice came from beside him and, pulling his headphones off his ears, he turned to the source.
It was her.
The neighbor girl.
She wore a pair of jeans that flared at the bottom and a blue spaghetti strap shirt covered by a denim jacket. A black choker necklace fit snugly around her neck. She looked gorgeous, with her brown hair framing her round face and falling over her shoulders.
“Uh…” he stammered. “I, uh…” He stopped to collect his words.
“What class are you looking for?” she asked.
He simply handed her the paper schedule in his hands.
“Oh, Coach Vargas,” she said. “The front office must have mistyped this. He’s in 1120, at the other end of the hall.”
Derrick sighed. Of course it was.
She looked at the schedule again. “D. Townsend. What’s the ‘D’ stand for?”
Derrick took the schedule as she handed it back to him. “I’m Derrick,” he finally was able to get out.
“I’m Haley,” she said. “I’ll walk with you to class.” She started down the hall back toward 1120 and Derrick fell in step beside her.
Haley. She had a name, and it was Haley.
“Didn’t you guys move in next door to me last week?” she asked as they walked.
“Yeah,” he said.
“I thought so. You looked familiar. Is Chief Davis your dad?”
“My stepdad. Well, about to be. My mom and him are getting married in October and they decided it was best that we move in before school started,” Derrick said.
“That’s cool,” she said. “He’s been our neighbor for a long time. Well, ever since the old Chief died.”
Derrick’s brows furrowed. “The Chief inherits the house of the old one?”
She laughed. “No. His dad was the old chief. And then when he died, the new Chief Davis got the job, and he also inherited the house. My dad is on the city council so they talk a lot.”
“Oh, cool,” Derrick said. That explained why Doug had the job while being so young. Small-town politics.
“Yeah,” Haley said. “We always have a back-to-school pool party in my backyard the weekend after school starts. It’ll be this Saturday. You should come over. Since we’re neighbors. You’ll be able to meet everyone here at school better that way.”
“Oh, um,” Derrick stammered again, mentally kicking himself in the ass. He felt like he looked stupid, unable to get words out of his mouth. He always imagined he’d have more confidence when it came to girls, but anytime a member of the fairer sex talked to him, he clammed up for some unexplainable reason. Perhaps it was because now all he could think about was this gorgeous girl in a bikini. “Yeah, that sounds great.”
The tardy bell rang just as they walked into class and as Haley took a seat next to her friends who waved her over, Derrick took the only free seat left, toward the front of the classroom. As he sat down, he glanced back at Haley and she gave him a wave. It filled him with a nervous warmth.
Coach Vargas, a short, squat man with tan arms and sunburned nose under a visor, black hair spilling out the top, came into the classroom and sat a shoulder bag onto the desk. He introduced himself to the class, though it was apparent that he was well-known in the school. As he took the roll, he got to Derrick’s name. “Townsend?” he said.
Derrick raised his hand.
“You a new student?” the coach asked.
“Yes sir.”
“Great. Where are you from?”
“Clearwater, sir,” Derrick said sheepishly.
“Well, welcome to Mount Vernon High. Hope you like it here,” he said.
Derrick mouthed a thank you and Coach Vargas got to the work of the day which amounted to nothing more than going over classroom and lab rules and the syllabus for the semester. Each student received a packet with classroom requirements, including lab tools. Derrick flipped through the syllabus and saw that they’d be dissecting frogs later in the semester.
After the bell rang and class was dismissed for their next period, Coach Vargas stopped Derrick on his way out the door. “I know coming to a new school can be rough and making new friends isn’t easy, but getting involved in extracurricular activities can help. Do you play any sports?”
Derrick said no, but that he was signed up for choir and theater.
“Try tennis out. I’ve been coaching for twenty years, and we’ve been to State every year for the past decade. It’s fun and we have a good time. Plus, colleges love to give out tennis scholarships.”
From behind them, Haley, her arms full of books spoke up. “You should definitely try out!” she exclaimed. “We have a ton of fun. Coach Vargas is the best.”
“Um, okay,” Derrick replied.
“Alright, you two better get on before you’re late for your next class. Where are you headed?” the coach asked.
Derrick looked at his schedule, the lines in the paper now permanent from folding and unfolding, the edges frayed from being shoved in his back pocket.
“English, with Mrs. Rogers,” he said.
“Oh great, you’ll love Becky. She’s a great teacher. Her class is in the next wing over,” Coach Vargas said.
Derrick thanked him for the advice and hurried on to the next class before the next bell rang.
In the hallway leaving Coach Vargas’s classroom, Haley turned to the other direction, but not before stopping. “I’m headed to Algebra,” she said. “Find me at lunch, if I don’t see you before then. I’ll introduce you to all my friends.”
Derrick nodded and turned toward the direction of his next class with a huge grin on his face. He’d never been one to receive female attention before. In Clearwater, he was just Derrick Townsend. But, here? In this new school? He could be anyone. He liked that idea. He could be whoever he wanted to be. He could be popular. That would infuriate Cassandra, and he smiled to himself at the idea. If at this new school he was one of the popular crowd while she had to watch from the sidelines? She would really hate him then.
He arrived at Mrs. Rogers’s classroom and found an anonymous seat in the middle of the rows. Right when the tardy bell rang, another student plopped into the desk next to him. Derrick looked over and did a double-take.
The kid, with a mop of brown hair that fell over his ears and nearly in his eyes, wore a pair of ripped jeans and a plaid flannel shirt tied around his waist, like an Eddie Vedder clone. And he wore the same CBGB shirt.