Part Five

I woke up this morning, still riding off of the high of the past few days. The sun poured through my bedroom window, warming the walls with its golden glow. I blinked awake, the memories still fresh—night swims, whispered conversations, and the feeling that everything in my life was finally shifting. I am starting to feel better about school.

American Heritage doesn’t have a dress code, per say. They expect us to dress in presentable attire. Button down shirts, slacks or chino pants, suits even. It is not enforced, but strongly encouraged. I tend to wear what I want.

I laid out my look the night before. I went shopping a few weeks back for new clothes, still hanging in my closet with the tags on them. I figured, this was my chance to start new also. I mean I have a friend this now. Some one wants to hang around me. Things can be different. Right?

I bought my brand new fit from Classic Standards. It’s a new luxury black owned street wear brand. I wanted to impress Malcom. Show him I wasn’t a loser.

After taking a long hot shower, I lotioned up and got dressed. I decided to pair my new patent leather, black, white, blue, green and red Jordan 1’s with the matching hat with my distressed stone washed jeans, a graphic tee of a sea turtle and a khaki colored cardigan sweater.

I was standing in the mirror styling my hair and putting my hat on when Malcom called me. I picked up the phone and answered. Malcolm’s face popped up on my phone screen, his room behind him still dim. He was already dressed in a navy hoodie, his hair neatly cut, but I could tell by the way he rubbed his eyes that he wasn’t fully awake yet.

“Man, I can’t believe I’m about to start at a whole new school,” Malcolm said, stretching.

“Yeah, welcome to my world,” I muttered, propping my phone up against my mirror as I made my final adjustments.

“Thats a dope look Aubs”

“Oh, thanks.” I played it cool, but that really made my day. I even like the nick name he started calling me. I have never had one before.

“I figured I’d give you the rundown so you don’t walk in blind.”

Malcolm smirked. “Go on, then. School me.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Okay, first thing—Markus already hit the jackpot. My sister is basically high school royalty, and since they’re vibing, he’s gonna be fine.”

Malcolm raised a brow. “And what about you?”

I hesitated. “Let’s just say… I’m not exactly at the top of the food chain.”

He frowned. “So where does that put me?”

I grinned. “Somewhere between not a complete outcast and still figuring it out.” I said while shrugging my shoulders and stretching my hands out.

Malcolm laughed. “Alright, hit me with the important stuff. What’s the social breakdown?”

I leaned forward, counting off on my fingers. “You got your sports jocks—Marcus will already be in. Bradley Preston is the leader of that crew. Then there are the populars and rich kids—Alissa runs that crowd. After that, you got your artsy kids, your emo’s, your alternatives, your stoners, your nerds, and then people like me—floating somewhere in the in-between.”

Malcolm smirked. “So, why aren’t you with Alissa’s crowd. You are rich and that is your sister?”

“I don’t have what she has. People like her.”

“Well I am people, and I like you, so what does that mean”

I didn’t have an answer for him. I stared off away from the screen so it wouldn’t feel so awkward.

Finally breaking the silence, Malcom asked. “So, where would I fit in?”

“You’re my friend, so you fit wherever I do, i guess.” I said simply. “But if you plan on hooping, you will get in with the basketball team. That’ll help.”

Malcolm nodded, thoughtful. “Good to know. Okay, what about teachers? Who do I need to watch out for?”

“Mr. Patel—chemistry. Dude acts like he’s training us for NASA. And Mrs. Caldwell—math. She doesn’t believe in calculators, which should be illegal.”

Malcolm laughed and groaned. “Fantastic.”

I laughed. “You’ll survive.”

“Oh before I forget.” “Avoid Principal Hobbs at all cost. He doesn’t seem fond of the educated versions of us, if you know what I mean.” I said brazenly.

“I am picking up, what you are putting down.”

A knock sounded on Malcolm’s end.

“Yo, we leaving in ten!” Marcus called from outside his room.

Malcolm turned back to me. “Guess it’s go-time.”

“Yeah,” I exhaled, grabbing my bag. “See you there.”

We ended the call.

I stared at my reflection for a second longer. This was it.

No turning back now.

Right when I turned to get my stuff, I heard Alissa yelling for me to come on.

To Be Continued…