The Philosophers' Game

Chapter 3: The First Day

 Chapter 3: The First Day

“Well, look at that. Your locker is conveniently right next to mine,” the chestnut-haired boy in front of me said with a charming grin. He came to a stop and tapped on my locker, #134. Then he opened his, #135, and carelessly tossed a binder inside it. I noticed his muscles bulging and curiously wondered if he was an athlete, or if he just liked to work out.

“Quite the coincidence,” I muttered under my breath. He definitely seemed like the overconfident type. The kind who could get any girl he wanted, if he wanted.

Slowly I entered the combination, then opened my locker. But I just stared blankly at the gray walls and shelf and metal hook inside, realizing I didn’t even have anything to put in there. Sure, I had a backpack full of writing utensils, paper, and a binder, but I’d missed school registration due to moving, so I had yet to pick up my textbooks. I therefore ended up just shaking my head and closing the locker moments later.

“I’m Nathan, by the way. Can I do the honor of showing you to your first class?” he offered kindly. He had just closed his locker and was pinning to the pocket on his blue polo shirt a large, round button with the words “ASK ME” on it.

“That’d be great. And I’m Candace, in case you didn’t hear. Seems like word travels fast through this school,” I replied gratefully, and handed him my schedule.  He just nodded. “What’s with the obnoxious button?”

“Oh, it is a little obnoxious, isn’t it?” Nathan smiled sheepishly and tugged at his shirt pocket. As he led me down the hallway, he explained somewhat proudly, “I’m required to wear it. See, I’m ASB vice president, and everyone in ASB is required to wear one of these for the entire first week of school. We’re supposed to help out the freshmen if they need it.”

“Wow, VP, huh? Have to admit that I’d be a little more impressed if you were the president,” I teased, though my mind was already speeding ahead. He had at least some kind of power in this school and was therefore a good person with whom to align myself for the game.

“Ouch,” Nathan joked, putting a hand over his heart and pretending to be hurt. “But no, that title belongs to Drew over there.” He then pointed, of course, to Socrates, who looked as preppy as ever in a pair of Sperry’s and a Ralph Lauren button down and shorts. He was walking in the opposite direction and holding hands with a lanky blonde cheerleader, one I didn’t recognize from the popular group on the steps outside.

I cursed in my head, but had to wonder why Socrates wasn’t winning the game with all that he had. When he gave his VP a short nod of respect, he caught my eye and had to bite his lip to stop himself from smirking triumphantly. I just shook my head and sighed, wishing he would’ve told me more about the game, or at least the fact he had a girlfriend. I realized I still had a lot to learn about my new friends. Maybe the only reason Socrates got the other Philosophers to let me in the game was by reminding them that I had almost no shot of winning. So far it seemed like each guy had claimed a different road to Victory, roads that put them in slightly stereotypical but still very powerful positions.

Meanwhile, Nathan waved to or was stopped by at least twenty different people as led me to the school office, where we were going to make a short stop to check in with the vice principal and pick up my textbooks. His friends seemed to be a mix of regular students and jocks or cheerleaders, many of whom had been in the popular group outside. Only when Plato’s friend #17, tall and dark-haired, bounded over and hounded Nathan about why he was wearing a polo shirt instead of his jersey did I realize that Nathan was both the Star Football Player and the Most Popular Guy in School, which made him an even more important ally than he was already.