1 Oakleaf Highschool

"Peter? Peter! Wake up! "

I opened my eyes and turned to the speaker. It was my friend Adrian. He was looking at me with that half laughing and half gloating expression that he usually has when I screwed something up. He looked exactly like how you imagine a nerd. With his nerdy glasses and pimply face, that smug face was asking for a punch.

"What is it? "

I had just woken up and my mind was still hazy. Why else would I ask such a stupid question. By the time I realized what was happening, my dear friend already helped me out.

"Look!" he whispered pointing his eyes subtly at the teacher who was glaring at me. Shit! I can't believe I fell asleep in the classroom. In hindsight I guess it's natural since I slept very late last night. I found about this cool concept called negative mass. Existence of it has not been proved but I was so into learning about it that I slept late. I am what you may call a science freak. Anything related to science and I am in.

I immediately straightened up, wiped my mouth and tried to look as if I was paying attention to class all along (and failed miserably). Oakleaf highschool takes discipline VERY seriously. Once some guy was suspended for just smoking cigarettes in restroom. So I was understandably nervous at been caught red handed like this, especially since I had never encountered situations like this before.

Mr. Walsh, our history teacher, did not look happy. He has a reputation for being especially strict, the smoker suspension incident I mentioned before was his deed as well. As a senior lecturer, he had quite a high status in school and I don't want to get on his bad side. As he had stopped speaking, all the students turned around and looked at me as well. I could hear someone snickering.

"Mr. Olson, care to repeat what I have been explaining right now? "

I tried to find clues from the chalkboard to find appropriate reply but all I could see was some nonsensical scribbles all over it. I knew I couldn't find any help from Adrian from that smug face of his. I signed. When all else fails, go for the truth.

" I don't know sir ", I admitted. There was an awkward silence where no one was speaking and Mr. Walsh just frowned while staring at me. After what felt like hours he finally snorted and said something about paying attention in future. I signed, relieved that he was not pursuing this matter further.

I had heard rumours that he loathed liars and so I guess my gambit paid off. I attentively listened to rest of the class and only when bell signalling the end of the class rang did I finally relax. Adrian slapped my back while laughing and said, "Ah~~~ my friend, the classic exclusive Mr. Walsh glare. You are finally at the receiving end of it. Tell me, how does it feel to finally stop being a teachers pet." I shrugged his hands off my shoulders.

"Piss off! Why didn't you wake me up earlier? You could have totally prevented this from happening." As it was the last class of the day, I headed outside briskly,leaving him behind. Oakleaf is an old school, and it being a public school, it doesn't get lots of funds. As I walked outside, I peeled off painting from the wall and wondered when was the last time it was painted.

"Hey! I didn't know you would get this mad! Wait up! Man.. You walk fast", puffed Adrian as he caught up to me." Relax man.. Nothing happened right? Besides, I didn't know you were sleeping until it was too late. Why do you care about it so much? "

" You know how strict this school is, if my dad gets to hear about it... " I paused abruptly, imagining the consequences.In fact, I don't care about this school and it's rule. I was studying in a prestigious private institution since young. There I was used to carefree life. I could study what I wanted to, skip what I didn't.

Here in public schools, there's mandatory attendance where by the end of the year I must have 90% attendance. In every. Damn. Course. And I have to attend all the couses. Crazy! And the worst part is I have to sit through all these boring classes when I already know everything I need to know. It's just formality by this point as I feel I am in same league as 12th grade students. And I can't even skip directly to 12th grade either, as it's against school rules. So that's all I can do. Waste my youth away.

But why am I here then? Well.. It's a long story. As I said, I used to study in a private institution. My dad was the president of Allstar Corporation, which was worth billions. My used to just stay at home, or attend parties or just did what rich wives usually do. Everything was great, with me being a prodigal rich kid and all. But one day there was this bank robbery and... Long story short, the robbers went crazy when police arrived and fired a shot. At my mom.

So her death shook my dad pretty bad. I was thirteen at that time. It's been three years now and my dad still hasn't recovered. He left all the company work to his secretary and cooped up at home. Somehow he got kicked out of company, became unemployed. Rented out his old mansion so we live in small apartment now. Private schools take up lot of money apparently and since we couldn't afford it, I just got shipped to this dumb school.

And here's the thing, my dad is still depressed as ever and whenever some problem crops up, he starts getting all teary reminiscing about old days when mom was here.. I just couldn't face him when he is like that. So I try my best to not create trouble as this school is infamous for informing parents for smallest of incidents. I never messed up this bad. Until today.

" Man.. Are you one of those guys who are scared of their parents. That's why you... " ,he kept on rambling. I am not very close to Adrian, so he doesn't know my glorious history. And I intend to keep it that way. Since I have been here for only 3 years, plus the antisocial vibe I have been giving didn't earn me any friends here. Especially since these guys have been together since they were little.

The closest friend I have is Adrian and that's not saying much. We get along fine, but this guy talks way too much so I tune him off most of the time. "... hear me? You have to stand up against your parents. You are practically an adult now. Are you even listening? " See?

"Oh? So why then, do I find you never out of your house after 9? Why don't you break curfew to 'stand up against your parents?" I replied spitefully. That sent him off on another tirade. See? We get along fine. The trick with chatty people is to focus questions back on them so they get to talk about their favorite topic - themselves.

We kept chatting as we reached the bus stop. Here in Auria, we get drivers licence when we reach 18. So students only have to options when travelling from and to school. They either take the school bus or parents drive them to school. And then there some who use bicycle but I guess it's healthy and they live nearby so it's alright.

Considering my situation, naturally I have to go by bus. And it's not bad. Most of the time. I picked a window seat after climbing the bus as I found it was unoccupied. I switched on my mobile to see if there was any text. I usually turn off my mobile in class because of you know - the discipline thing. As expected, no text messages. The bus was full by now and those who came late had to spend the journey standing, as always.

I plugged in my earphones to listen to some music and watched the scenery as the bus accelerated. Time passes by fast when you listen to music and look - it's my stop. As I got down from the bus I walked slowly towards my home. This is usually worst part of the day. I don't know what mood my dad is in when I get home.

Sometimes he will be bright and cheery, full of optimism. I love those times and used to believe it would last forever - it never did. Most of the time he is silent and depressed. I could handle those situations quite well. But what I dread is him going off and getting drunk. Whenever that happens there's lots of shouting. Lots and lots of shouting and screaming and sometimes even throwing stuff around.

Those days I get so mad I couldn't think clearly. What gives him right to behave this way? I mean, sure he lost his wife but I lost my mom too you know. And here I am trying to live my life as best as I could while he is still not over her death. It's frustrating, so we shout. We scream at each other abuses until our throat gets hoarse. We do it until we are tired of shouting. Then we go back to our lives - or whatever left of it.

Welcome to the life of Peter Olson.