Fears

04

Ryan followed the students shuffling to the exits of the gymnasium. He felt like he was in a sea: there were always people close to his face. Everyone was on shoulder-to-shoulder with each other.

After following them for a while, the crowd began to lessen. He walked up the stairs to the second floor and looked around. He found himself face to face with a view of the entire school. His stomach twisted in a knot. He felt lost.

He took out his schedule and double-checked where his section was. But it turned out it only said the name and not the location. Ryan put it back in his bag. So much for help. Now I actually have to ask people.

But his hands shook on that thought. He never felt so alone.

He clenched his fist. Looks like I have to do the old run-around-and-check trick.

Ryan straightened up his backpack and walked around the second floor. On his left were the different rooms showing students on their seats. The teachers were on the front close to the chalkboard. They looked attentive, but it was only the first day.

On his right were the walls that showed him a view of the area outside. He looked out and the first thing he saw was an empty soccer field. It looks so much better here than. . .

He shook the thought out of his head and continued searching. He looked up at the plagues that showed the section names on top of the doors.

Luckily, he managed to find his own. He took a deep breath and stepped in the door. A few seconds later, about thirty pairs of eyes bore onto him. Ryan felt his cheeks getting hot all of a sudden. Apparently, his classmates noticed and began to laugh. He groaned in response.

"Well," the teacher said. "You must be Gonzalez-Arellano. Come in."

She looked like the typical teacher he saw in movies. Her clothes were spick and span and her black hair--with traces of gray--was neatly tied into a bun. She had this aura of authority around her that made Ryan look like a mess.

Reluctantly, he went in and walked over to his seat and blankly sat in, only to widen his eyes in surprise when he heard a huge fart.

The class laughed even louder. Ryan wanted to sink into the floor and die.

He realized he was sitting on a whoopee cushion. He lifted it in the air.

"Ugh--who did that?" the teacher asked as the class settled into silence again. After a few seconds, she beckoned Ryan. "It's not funny. Ryan, give it to me."

He walked over and gave it to her. Then he returned to his seat.

Larry elbowed him. "I saved that seat for you. You're welcome."

Ryan was starting to think that Larry was the one who did it or the one who helped. Either way, he was still guilty. He could even still hear the fits of giggles in the room. Some even sneaked glances at him.

"I'll let that go since we're just starting. But seriously, up your game more. Whoopee cushions, really? You're juniors for crying out loud," she mumbled a little too loudly under her breath. Then she cleared her throat. "Anyway, class, let me reintroduce myself, for Ryan's sake. I'm Miss Adelaide, or Addie, for short. I will be your homeroom adviser for the entire school year.

"About that, our homeroom will have a special activity. During my period, we will be writing journal entries based on certain prompts. I know some of you don't like to talk to me in person, hence this activity."

The class collectively groaned, Ryan included.

"Now, now. I want you to take a sheet of paper. Let's get to know each other."