It was my first day at Crestwood High, a school renowned for its academic excellence. Ethan and I had both enrolled as first-year students. Ethan was assigned to Class 1-D, known for its focus on extracurricular activities, while I was placed in Class 1-A, where academics were the primary focus.
Ethan and I had moved into a house in Brookhaven, a bit of a commute from the school. Finding a place closer to the city had been challenging. We decided to begin attending classes on Monday. Our house had two floors; I settled on the first floor while Ethan set up his things on the ground floor.
My routine started early-I woke up at 4 AM, though my sleep schedule had been disrupted since the move. Nevertheless, I maintained my habit of an intense hour and a half of studying each morning, followed by a run and some exercises. After my workout, I freshened up and put on the school uniform: a blue blazer over a white shirt, a red tie, and black pants-an outfit that seemed to suit Crestwood's esteemed reputation.
After breakfast, Ethan and I headed to the bus stop amidst the bustling city crowd.
We entered the school through the main entrance, eager for a fresh start. The school was alive with students chatting and moving about.
As we parted ways to head to our respective classes, Ethan said, "Let's catch up later."
In Class 1-A, I walked in, keeping a low profile. The other students glanced at me, their expressions ranging from curiosity to mild confusion. I could sense their thoughts-wondering who I was, what I was about. I remained impassive, letting them think what they would. These were students who, like me, were focused on academics. I didn't feel intimidated; rather, I saw them as potential equals in our shared pursuit of excellence.
As I took my seat, I realized that while they might be curious about me now, it wouldn't be long before I'd make my mark here. I would show them who I really was, but only when I was ready. For now, I was content to observe, to blend in until the time was right.
I hoped Ethan would fit into his new class because, for some reason, I felt responsible for his transfer. After discussing the move with my mother, Ethan and I met at a mall to talk things over, and he was fully supportive. We both moved into the house early and began exploring the bustling city of Brookhaven. Shopping together was a nice change, and it was good to have a partner to chat with. Ethan was a tough guy who took everything in stride and quickly brushed off any setbacks. I found myself drawn to his carefree attitude and wanted to adopt his style.
However, his routine was chaotic. He would only wake up when I called him after my morning run, and he wasn't interested in joining me, preferring to go to the gym at night instead. We spent our evenings watching movies and series in the guest room, where the TV was set up. He was more into fantasy and sci-fi, while I gravitated toward thrillers and mysteries. For the first time in my life, I was genuinely happy for a reason, though I could only express it with a smile. I believe Ethan felt the same way.
I was hoping to catch up with Ethan during the morning break, but he was nowhere to be found. A few guys from my class approached me, introducing themselves, but I struggled to remember their names-names have never been my strong suit. I quickly realized that everyone seemed to have their own groups, and I felt like an outsider. As the bell rang, I quietly made my way back to class, blending into the routine of the day.
When lunchtime arrived, I still hadn't seen any sign of Ethan. With a growing sense of unease, I headed to the cafeteria, hoping to spot him among the crowd. The cafeteria was buzzing with lively conversations, the kind of noise that usually makes a place feel alive, but today it only added to my anxiety. I scanned the room, searching for his familiar face, but he was still nowhere in sight. My heart flickered with unease.
After waiting in line, I grabbed my food and moved to an empty table, choosing to sit alone rather than intrude on any established groups. As I settled into my seat, I found myself scanning the faces around me, trying to spot anyone familiar. But every face seemed to blur together, just like the names earlier. I felt like a ghost drifting through this new environment, unseen and uncertain of where I belonged.
Then, a small thud caught my attention.
A student had accidentally bumped into a senior, knocking his drink over. The spill spread across the table, seeping into the senior's tray. I didn't recognize the senior, but by the way his group of friends sat around him, it was obvious-he wasn't just another student. He was someone who mattered here.
The student who had caused the accident froze, eyes widening in realization. He wasn't small, but compared to the senior, he looked smaller by the second.
The senior slowly stood up, brushing off his now-wet sleeve. The cafeteria noise dipped slightly, a few nearby students turning to watch.
"You good?" the smaller student asked, voice hesitant.
The senior chuckled-a low, amused sound that sent a quiet ripple through the room. He looked down at his damp tray and then back up at the student.
"Yeah, I'm good," he said, his voice calm. Too calm.
He clapped a hand on the smaller student's shoulder, squeezing just enough to make the moment linger. His friends smirked, clearly enjoying the tension.
"But, man..." The senior shook his head, glancing at his tray. "That's a shame. You ruined my food."
The student swallowed, shifting on his feet. "It was an accident."
"I know, I know," the senior said, nodding. He looked over at his friends, as if confirming something with them. "But, you know, accidents usually come with apologies."
The student's face twitched. He was caught in a trap that wasn't really a trap-no fists raised, no real threats made. Just a moment that stretched too long, with too many eyes watching.
"I-I'm sorry," the student muttered.
The senior's smirk grew. That was what he wanted. Not an apology, but the moment-the power shift, the control.
"See? That wasn't so hard." He patted the student's shoulder twice, like he was doing him a favor. Then, with an exaggerated sigh, he turned back to his seat. "Don't worry about the food. I'll just grab something else."
His friends laughed, a few shaking their heads like the whole thing was a joke. The student stood there for a second too long, face red, before finally turning and walking away.
The moment passed, the cafeteria noise returning to normal, but the tension still clung to the air.
A sinking feeling settled in my stomach. What if I accidentally crossed paths with someone like that? I was new, unfamiliar with the social dynamics, and the thought of making a wrong move-of becoming the next target-was terrifying. I quickly lowered my gaze, focusing on my food and trying to make myself as inconspicuous as possible. But the fear lingered, a constant reminder that I was still navigating this unfamiliar and potentially hostile environment.
"Wow! Quite an introduction to Crestwood, huh?"
A student with striking blond hair and a charming smile slid into the seat across from me, flanked by two others. The brightness of his hair made him stand out immediately-one of those details you couldn't ignore even if you tried. Before I could react, Ethan appeared out of nowhere and sat down beside me. I hadn't seen him since the morning, and his sudden arrival was a relief.
"First day here, right?" one of the guys across the table asked, breaking the tension.
I nodded, still trying to shake off the earlier scene. "Yeah, it is. Ethan, where have you been? I couldn't find you anywhere," I asked, my curiosity piqued.
"This is Ryan," Ethan said, gesturing to the blond guy with the easygoing smile. "We're in the same class. And these two are Julian and Logan, Ryan's friends. They've been showing me around while I figured you could use some space to make your own connections. But from the look on your face, it doesn't seem like you've had much luck."
I gave a half-hearted smile. "Not exactly."
"They're members of the soccer club," Ethan continued. "What do you think about joining them?"
Ryan leaned forward, a curious look on his face. "So, Daniel, what do you think of Crestwood so far? Besides the welcoming committee in the cafeteria." He smirked, clearly referring to the fight we'd all witnessed.
I laughed nervously. "It's definitely more intense than my last school. I wasn't expecting that kind of welcome."
Julian, sitting next to Ryan, nodded. "Yeah, Crestwood has its moments. But it's not all bad. You just have to know how to stay out of trouble-or find the right people to back you up." He shot a playful look at Logan, who grinned in return.
"Don't worry, man," Logan said. "Once you're in with the soccer crew, people tend to give you some space. We stick together."
Ethan jumped in, still grinning. "He works out every day, so I'd bet he's a solid player. He could probably score a banger from anywhere on the field. You might want to watch out-once he's in, you all might be fighting for your spots."
Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? You play? We're always looking for new talent. What position?"
"Midfield, mostly," I replied, keeping it simple. "I've played different spots before, though."
Logan nodded approvingly. "Midfield's where the action is. You'll fit right in."
Julian chimed in, "And if soccer's not your thing, there are plenty of other clubs here. But honestly, soccer's where the real fun happens."
Ryan leaned back, giving me a thoughtful look. "Plus, it's a good way to make connections. You get to know people, and suddenly the school doesn't seem so big and intimidating anymore."
Ethan nudged me. "Yeah, and you might even get to dodge a few cafeteria brawls if you're lucky."
I laughed, feeling more at ease with every passing moment. "I'll definitely think about it. Sounds like a good way to get involved."
"Cool," Ryan said with a nod. "We've got practice tomorrow after school if you want to drop by. No pressure, just come check it out."
Logan added, "And if you're not into soccer, we can always grab a bite after. There's a pretty good burger joint near the school."
"It's kind of our hangout spot," Julian said with a grin. "You'll like it."
I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. Despite the rough start, maybe Crestwood wouldn't be so bad after all.