Ray's day starts off. Not pleasantly either!
Several curses tumbled around Ray's head as his mother drew up into the parking lot. “You're going to start riding with Samuel and Brandon next week.” She said. “Why can't I just take a bus or something?” He asked, nearly instantly regretting it. He knew what she would say almost as well as he knew his own name. “Because. The kids might pick on you, and I don't trust you riding a bus anyways. You always ask the same thing.” His mother scolded.
Yeah, but I can't stand that goody-two-shoes Brandon and Samuel's just fuckin' annoying.
But of course, he didn't say so out loud. He merely sighed, and said, “Whatever, mum.” His mother glared at him, and said, “Don't whatever me, young man! Show some respect.” Glancing at the clock, he said, “I have to get going. It's 8:20.”
“Fine, but we're talking this afternoon.”
Good grief! It's not even 9 AM and she's already starting World War 3.
Ray slipped out of the car, shoulders hunched and bag slung over his shoulder, and began trudging into class. She rolled down the window, and yelled, instead of goodbye, “And straighten up that back!” Stepping inside the barred gate that made him feel even more like he was entering a jail, he eyed the peeling and chipping light pink with distaste.
Couldn't they have picked a color that wasn't so ugly? Or did they get a massive ass discount on 100 gallons of pepto-bismol pink?
Several kids looked at him with contempt.
Here they go again.
Climbing the stairs, he winced faintly as the rough material of his school pants scraped against his fresh cuts. But there wasn't anything that could be done for it. He'd just have to grin and bear it. Entering the classroom, he was faced with several rude giggles from a small clot of girls in the corner of the room.
What is it? Do those stupid whores always have to travel in a huge pack? Is it like they only have 10 braincells combined or what?
Ray was mildly disturbed to find that his thoughts were this vicious early in the morning. And school hadn't even started properly to begin with! He could feel the beginnings of a headache starting. No doubt, they were laughing at his hair. Again. It wasn't his fault he had inherited his mother's overtly curly hair.
His teacher caught sight of him, and gave him a disgusted look that clearly said, “Oh. It's you again. Eww.”
Sitting down, he heard the ancient bell ring loudly, signaling that the day was about to start. Brandon sat down in the desk to his left, and smirked at him in a condescending manner. Why did he have to get stuck in this hellhole of a school in the first place for? Oh yeah, cause whenever he brought up the question of going to a public school his mother came up with all kinds of excuses...
His behavior was too bad for a public school. It was not.
He couldn't get up on time. Public schools started half an hour later!
He didn't want a school with uniform. Public schools allowed more freedom than this shithole.
How would he get there? It was closer to his mother's workplace.
He'd never been in a public school. Well before first grade, he'd never been to school point blank, but that didn't stop her, now did it?
There were lots of kids in public school. So? There's a fuckload more people in the real world that she likes to bitch about.
He was interrupted from his thoughts by Brandon poking him rather roughly in the arm, and saying, “Hey Toro? Are you deaf? The teacher said to take out your homework.”
Yep, it was gonna be a long day alright.