Mr Lester

Chapter 2

(Dan's POV)

I'm walking through the gates of hell.

It's my first day at school. A real life school with real life kids. I know that might be pretty easy to imagine but for me it's like walking onto another planet. I can see small girls and boys running and skipping around the playground, and older teens huddling in corners, by the bike racks and behind a big shed. I follow the signs that say "visitors", hoping they'll take me where I need to be. I certainly feel like a visitor, or an imposter. I get hostile glares from the people around me, sizing me up and dismissing me as that new kid with a nerdy backpack and no school uniform.

I wait on the chair outside the front office, for what seems like eternity, until a chubby lady with round glasses and a greasy brown bun comes to find me.

"Hi! You must be Dan!". She sounds way too enthusiastic for the situation. She introduces herself as Mrs Crowley. "I'll show you to your first class, I'm afraid you've missed morning registration but I'll take you to the first class on your timetable, English".

I sigh and look to the ceiling as I follow the woman through the endless corridors. All I can see is grey painted walls and grey faces on students in grey uniforms. I stick out like a sore thumb in my skinnier than skinny jeans, grey muse jumper and black converse. Plus it doesn't help that I'm probably the tallest and lankiest person in the whole school.

Mrs Crowley suddenly stops at a door, causing me to jerk back to avoid an awkward collision. She opens the door and gives me a beaming smile. I try to return it, but the sight in front of me makes that quite hard.

Six guys sit on desks at the back of the classroom, each wearing a slightly different variation of Nike high tops and a jumper with the hood sticking out. Every so often they flick their greasy hair out of their eyes, which they all have styled in curtains. Two groups of girls stand apart from each other on opposite sides of the classroom, as if they're sizing each other up. One group have small handbags, and very short (and wonky) grey skirts. Their high ponytails flick each other in the face when they turn around which is quite amusing to watch. A couple of them keep putting on more orangey coloured powder which I'm guessing is foundation. As if they could fit any more on their faces. The other group of girls sit in a tight circle on the floor between two desks. They wear heavy black shoes, and carry brown satchels with various band badges sewn or pinned on. Heavy red lipstick and eyeliner accompany the look, and the majority of them are eyeing up one of the boys at the back. He sometimes glances back to smirk at them.

And then there are four or five people sat at desks in the first two rows, reading or listening to music. They look lonely, but peaceful at the same time. Hiding behind their fringes, they sometimes steal a look behind them to see people flirting, throwing paper and applying makeup, sigh, then turn back around. I know how they feel.

I dump my black backpack on a desk in the second row and slump into my seat, settling wth my iPod and headphones. I hear the girls start to giggle and whisper, giving flirty eyes to someone behind me, and look up to see a young teacher with a dark floppy fringe like mine has walked into the room.

"Hello everyone. Please open up your textbooks.". Then he looks to me.

"Hi, you must be Dan. Welcome to my class, my name is Mr Lester."