The Tide Between Us

And yes, the day has finally come.

School.

Nick wakes me up bright and early—6:30, to be exact. I get dressed carefully, examining my options like it's a life-or-death decision.

I throw on a T-shirt underneath a hoodie, along with some blue baggy jeans. Cologne, deodorant—check. I pack the backpack Nick got me with notebooks, pens, and all that other boring stuff. I throw in a pack of gum, too. Because. Well, just because.

"Ready, buddy?" Nick asks as I waltz down the stairs.

"Yep," I smile, nerves tucked behind my teeth.

"It'll be okay." Nick nods, reassuring as always. He's back in his usual suit. We get in the car and head to school.

Jamie and Skye are already standing outside when we pull up, and god, it looks awkward.

"Thanks," I say to Nick before getting out of the car. I sling my bag over my shoulder and try to breathe like a normal person. "Hey," I smile at Skye and Jamie.

"Hey!" Skye beams immediately, all sunshine and easy energy.

Jamie just nods, hands in his pockets, eyes flicking to the ground.

Skye and Jamie take me to the office, where they explain a few things and I get my student pass. I'm in one class with Skye and two with Jamie. That's it.
I've got art with Skye, then English and geometry with Jamie.
So I know people in three of my six fucking classes.

Luckily, my first lesson is with Jamie, and I have homeroom with both of them.

"That's Mrs. Green. No one likes her," Skye whispers, and I nod.

"Sorry I'm late," Vinnie says as he rushes in. He looks exhausted.

"Very well," Mrs. Green nods, not even really looking at him. "I believe we have a new student?" She glances around the room.

Maybe if I don't move, she'll think I've always been here.
Then she makes dreaded eye contact.

"Would you like to introduce yourself?" she asks. I glance around slightly.

"I'm Riven. I moved here two weeks ago," I say, and the room falls pretty much silent.

"Nice to meet you, Riven," she says with a forced smile.

After homeroom, I head to English with Jamie.

"Skye told you, huh?" he asks, and I narrow my eyes.

"I'm not dumb. Anyways—" he sighs. "I don't know what to do. She won't talk to me."

"Try again at lunch. I can stay away for a bit?" I offer, and he nods.

"Thanks. I feel bad—it's your first proper lunchtime here."

"It's okay, don't worry," I chuckle lightly. He just smiles at me.

So it turns out I'm in most of my lessons with James, too. Remember buzz cut guy?

I've had my first three lessons. I couldn't find Jamie or Skye at break, but I spotted Skye with a group of girls, so I ended up alone.
It wasn't bad. I just did a little people-watching for fun.

Now I have biology. And I'm fucking lost.

"You good?" I hear a voice I don't recognize.

It's blue-haired guy.

"Oh—yeah. Just a little lost," I reply through gritted teeth.

"Where are you meant to be?"

"Biology."
I'm late.
One thing about me: I hate being late. I hate people who are late when they could've prevented it. I'm always early.

"I'm not heading there, but I'll show you."
He's being more helpful than Skye or Jamie. Sorry—that was mean, but come on.

He shows me where I'm meant to be, and I walk in, late, unfortunately.

"Ah, there you are!" the teacher says in a chirpy voice. She seems nice already.

"Sorry," I mumble.

"It's okay!" she exclaims, pointing me to a seat at the back—next to James.

Well, fuck me.

"Hey, homo," James says as I walk toward the desk.

I roll my eyes.
"Back at you," I mutter.

_____

The next two lessons drag by slowly. When lunch finally hits, I stick to what I said—I stay away from Skye and Jamie.
I told them it was fine.
But I feel extremely lonely.
And I must look it, too.

"Can I sit with you?" I hear a voice I recognize—Vinnie.

"Of course," I say, looking up at him.

"Why aren't you with your friends?" he asks, glancing over at them.
They look like they're arguing.
I make eye contact with Skye. She gives me a 'is this guy serious?' kind of look.
I just smile.

"They're resolving some kind of argument," I explain, and he nods.

That's when I notice the scratches.
They're faint, but they run down his neck and arms—like someone actually clawed at him.

"Are you okay?" I ask, quieter now.

He nods, too quickly.
"I'm just tired," he groans, brushing it off. "My mom isn't well and just likes taking her anger out on me."

I see it happen—his face falters, his shoulders dip slightly, and his eyes well up. Not full-on crying, but that kind of glassy, burning feeling that comes when you're too tired to function and your body just feels everything at once. Too much all at once.

"Are you free later?" I ask gently.

"I have hockey practice, but after that I am," he says, voice low. I nod.

"Do you wanna come over for dinner?"

He pauses, then nods slowly. "Yeah... yeah, that sounds good."

"If you need to stay over, you can. There's a spare room." I offer it casually, like it's no big deal, even though it kind of is.

"I should probably go home... but thank you. Dinner sounds good though," he says, giving me the faintest smile. One of those tired, crooked ones that doesn't quite reach the eyes but still feels honest.

I shoot Nick a text to check if it's okay. He says yeah, but he'll be home late—tells me to order from that salad bowl place if we're hungry.

_____