FicWad

"So, here we are." said Billie Joe, my new dad. "Magnolia Crescent. Um, your rooms are in the basement, if you wanna check 'em out."
Me 'n' Pete both nodded. We liked Billie. He was childish and fun, and would take care of us. He was different from the other people we got landed with. We headed downstairs, both with boxes in hand.
"Hey, Pete, are you okay?" I asked, knocking open the door at the end of the staircase.
Pete nodded. "I just don't like moving, you know? Too many new things." Pete didn't like change.
"It'll be fine. There willl be plenty of hotties in this new school, I'm sure of it." I told him, though I wasn't sure of much.
"Aw, Frank, I gotta get you a boyfriend!" he cried, his goofy grin back on his face.
"Nah, I don't need one." I said, putting my box down and pulling out some sheet paper and noteboooks that were in it. I have some odd hobbies.
"Prude." he stuck his tongue out.
"Music's my girlfriend." I told him, sticking my tongue back out.
He tackled me.
"Hey, guys?" Billie's voice was at the top of the stairs. We stopped wrestling. "Are you getting the rest of your stuff?"
We started laughing and rushed upstairs to go get our stuff.
***

On Monday, we got carted over to our new school, Magnolia High. We were about a month late, but we didn't really mind. A month less of school is great.
The building was very old, with large, brownish red bricks and big wooden doors. It looked like it was out of Donnie Darko. I saw a bunch of punks hanging around the bleachers off of the parking lot, and a bunch of abercrombie girls near the stairs into the building.
We waved good-bye to Billie and headed in. The school was unremarkable and was filled with a bunch of wierdos. We found the Principal's Office without much trouble. Her name was Mrs. Applebottom, so of course I had that song playing through my head for the entire time we were in there. She gave us our schedules and dismissed us. we bid each other good-bye and went to our lockers. Mine was down this isolated hallway near the art department. Pete had one near drama. How fitting.
I had locker number 13. I smiled. It was my favorite number.I put in the combo and opened it. A dozen or so papers fell out of it. I heard snickering coming from a bunch of jocks a few feet away from me. I sighed and pt my stuff in. I can't kill them until I live on my own, so...
"Hey, are you okay?" asked a guy who passed by.
"Yeah." I sighed. "Why do all schools have assholes?"
He laughed. "I've been asking tha question for centuries."
I turned to look at him, then froze. He had a flawless face, with longish features. His skin made marble look lively. I would have sworn that he belonged in a coffin if it weren't for the sparkle in his eyes. He wore black rimmed glasses that were slightly to big. He was smiling at me, showing very white, pointy teeth.
"I'm Mikey." he stuck out a hand. I remembered how to move and talk again and took his hand.
"Frank."
"Nice tat, Frank." he was referring to my scorpion, I think. I've got a bunch, but that was the only visible one.
"Thanks." I smiled a little.
"Hey, what's your first class?" he asked, opening the locker next to mine.
"Um......." I consulted my schedule. "English with Mr. Kim."
"That's my class, too!" Wow, he was easily excited. "I'll take you there. You'll love Mr. Kim, he's awesome." he started dragging me down the hall, looking through some of the papers that were shoved in my locker.
"Freak, noob, crackhead- most of these are pretty usual, you know- orphan?" he looked up at me.
I shrugged. "Me and my friend Pete got adopted recently. My parents died in a fire."
"Oh." he looked down.
"Don't worry about it. I was like, two. I don't remember them very much, and I don't care much." I smiled at him when he looked back up at me, his eyes x-raying me. "Don't worry about me." I insisted, seeing he still looked a little worried. "If you meet Pete, worry about him. His parents were herroin addicts. He got taken by Social Services when he was six." I laughed a little. "He is still a little touchy about it. But we're all the same, really. It doesn't matter. He takes it too seriously."
"How can you be so carefree about it?" asked Mikey, pulling me into class. "Other kids go to therapy for less."
I shrugged again. "I don't remember them, and I don't blame them. It was in the cards that it would happen. Everybody dies, Mikey. It just depends how and why." I sat down at the back of class,leaning my chair against the wall behind me. He sat next to me, muttering to himself. I caught some of it.
"... 'everybody dies'. That's not true. So not true." he continued muttering.
Meanwhile, all I could think was: "What?"