𝙑𝙞𝙗𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙉'𝙃𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙣

Chapter 𝙏𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙚

Enez Lyons
First Day of School
8:16

We make it to my second period by 8:16, even though it started at 8:12. I thank Die and tell her I'll text her later. As I enter the classroom, I feel embarrassed about spilling all my shit on her, but I suck it up as all eyes fall on me.

"Miss Lyons?" the teacher asks me, looking at the roll on his computer.

"Yes sir," I answer, glancing around for a seat. I awkwardly wait for further instructions, but when it's evident that the teacher was going to keep clicking away on the computer, I started searching for a seat. The spots in the back were all filled up, much to my dismay, so I'd have to come early tomorrow to get a good spot, I see.

I sat in a front corner, antsy and annoyed that I could fell random kids staring holes into the back of my head. I fumbled with my mechanical pencil, feeling my phone going off underneath my thigh. It must be the group chat Die and dem put me in. Or either it was Asia, my best friend from Baltimore.

I really want a blunt right now.

Sighing, I force myself to pay attention to the teacher. "Again, I'm Mr. Waltrip," the teacher says, "and I will be teaching you all English this year."

I raise my hand, like the good lil student I was.

"Do you assign a lot of homework?"  I ask.

"You do the work you don't finish in class. I do not believe in homework," he smiles. The class agreed. I could already see that I was finna like this teacher. I relaxed in my seat, sliding my phone from underneath me, and checking my texts.

Bestie💙🥶: u in class??

Bestie💙🥶: I saw Eda live and she's in the galleria. ion kno what dat is, but I'm guessing das a place

Bestie💙🥶: just was givin u a heads up

Me: srry I was busy tryna find a replacement bestie, ian c yo text, I appreciate it ma

Me: jk jk 😂😂

Bestie💙🥶: I was finna say... 😞

Me: I can't replace u ma 🥲 u 2 crazy

I get off my phone as the teacher walks by, accepting a piece of paper he was giving us. It was his syllabus for this class, his expectations, and supplies and shit like that. I take a picture of it and shoot a text to my mom, even though I know she probably could care less. I read over the syllabus while the teacher talks, not feeling like following along.

"Can somebody read this paragraph?" the teacher asks.

Some girl volunteers, and reads the paragraph damn near choppily. I know some third graders who can read better than that, but I keep my opinion to myself. "Thank you," the teacher says to her. "I'll read from here guys. No more volunteers." I turn my music back on and close my eyes, having already looked over the paper.

Someone taps on my desk and I realize that it's the end of class. I raise my head up and wipe dried spit from my mouth. It's Dynera, and she's smirking down at me. "You got a class near here?" I ask her groggily, picking up my pencil and pocketing it. We start walking out of the class, the teacher typing fast away on his computer again.

"Nahh, I walked here from my second period," she told me. "You hear about that kid today?"

"Ian hear about shit. I was asleep," I mumble.

"The school sent out an email, apparently somebody brought a weapon on campus. We was in lockdown for fifteen minutes Dumbo," she flicked my arm. "Damn," I say, "I slept through allat?"