On the first day of school, beginning with the most inconsequential of events, in the most unexpected of ways, Ardwyn’s life would change forever.

The day started like any of the rest, with Ardwyn asleep underneath the warm covers, when his alarm clock went off.

“First day of school, and you’re already late!” his mother shouted from the kitchen.

Ardwyn turned over, wishing he could sleep for another hour. The summer had zoomed by in an instant. The momentary freedom of no school, swimming pool parties, friend get-togethers, staying out late at night — all that was over, now replaced with the harsh reality of a strict schedule, temper-tantrum teachers, homework — Ardwyn grunted. He was not looking forward to the first day.

“I packed you lunch.” His mother came into the room. “You’re still sleeping?” she asked in shock.

His mother was melodramatic over the smallest of things. Even when casually watching a movie she would jump up and shout, with Ardwyn exhaling deeply and sighing at the exaggerated emotions.

“I’m getting up!” he said, his voice slightly raised. He would rather break the comfort of sleep than deal with his mother’s melodramatic antics.

“You’re not excited for your first day?” his mother asked.

“No,” Ardwyn plainly said, and got up, sitting on the edge of his bed.

“When I was your age, I loved the first day of school,” his mother said with excitement. “New friends, new teachers, new classes — a new beginning!”

Without waiting for Ardwyn’s reaction, his mother rushed back into the kitchen. She had to leave the house by seven to beat the morning traffic rush on her way to work.

“I packed you lunch.” He heard her call from the kitchen. “A ham sandwich, and an apple.”

The lunch sounded plain but Ardwyn calmly expected the fact. They were poor, and there was hardly ever anything in the refrigerator. Whenever he mentioned there was no food, his mother would always say, “There is plenty to eat! What do you want me to cook for you?” She just simply refused to acknowledge the fact that they were poor. They were not middle class as she often would say, but at best perhaps not completely impoverished. Most days all Ardwyn could make himself to eat was a cheap white bread sandwich with some ham and mayo. Sometimes there was peanut butter and that was a luxury.

But Ardwyn never complained about the state of their finances. He knew his mother, a single parent, was doing the best she could.

Ardwyn rubbed his eyes and stared at the window for a moment, readying himself for the coming day. He walked to his closet and opened up the doors, looking for what he would wear. He only had a few shirts, shorts, and jeans.

On most days he wore a few pairs of jeans cycled back to back, hoping the other students wouldn’t notice. The jeans were blue, worn, and easy to blend in without revealing Ardwyn only had a few clothes. Or at least he hoped.

Last September he turned fifteen. Only one more month and he would turn sixteen and be able to apply for a job at the local grocery supermarket. He eagerly anticipated being able to earn money, buy new clothes, and not look like the poor kid at school everyday.

“Okay, I gotta go!” his mom shouted from the kitchen. “You need anything else before I leave?”

“I’m fine, mom,” he said.

“Remember, the bus leaves at 7:15, fifteen minutes earlier than last year. Don’t be late!” And with that his mom shut the door and left for work.

Twenty minutes of freedom, in total peace and quiet before confronted with the school day. Ardwyn sighed.

He picked out his clothes, his best blue worn jeans, with some holes in them that looked somewhat stylish, and a black plain t-shirt. By not wearing any shirts with logos he could get away with wearing the same thing more often.

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He threw the clothes over a chair and stepped into the shower. His mind went through all of the things he might expect the first day of school. He hoped he would see at least some of his friends in his classes.

Ardwyn turned off the water, dried himself, and brushed his hair. He looked at himself in the mirror. He had changed over the summer. He didn’t feel like a kid anymore. His acne had gone away, and his skin had evenly toned. His body leaned out more, and the effects of working out had started to show. The black t-shirt looked good on him, and showed the frame he had developed over the summer by lifting weights in the garage.

He felt more confident in some strange way, which was foreign to him. Last year, he had been the skinny kid. Now he wondered what others would say about his summer gains at school, or if they would even notice.

He brushed his hair, grabbed his backpack and the paper bag lunch from the kitchen counter, and threw on his shoes. The backpack felt light, just a notebook, and two pens, not much else required for the first day of school.

He took a long exhale and shut the front door behind him.

The sun rays came out from behind the horizon lighting the large oak trees of his neighborhood in a golden glow. The morning frost had settled on the grass sprinkled in white icicles, but even in the t-shirt he was still comfortable. By afternoon the sun would be out.

When Ardwyn got to the bus stop he was the only student there, just like last year. 7:10, five minutes before the bus showed up. In moments, the bus pulled into the stop, the loud hiss of the engine releasing, a familiar sound he was used to.

He looked back one more time on the street of his neighborhood, a final glance leaving behind all of the summer memories, and walked up the steps of the bus.

On the bus there was a mix of students he knew from last year, and some he didn’t know. He exchanged glances, nodded at some.

Ardwyn settled in a seat in the back with a large rip in the seat cushion, exposing the gray upholstery, and sat down. He took off his backpack and stared out the window.

The bus rolled through the quiet neighborhoods of the East side, across the tracks where most of the poor kids lived, including his neighborhood. There was a noticeable change in the air when the bus rolled over the tracks to the West side of town, where the rich neighborhood kids, usually waiting at the bus stop with their parents, in luxury cars, boarded the bus.

The parents seemed like they didn’t even have to work. They had the time to just wait at the bus-stop every morning in a relaxed unhurried manner. One of the parents, a dad who always wore sunglasses, leaned against the side of his Porsche, as if just for the chance to show off every morning.

The father waved goodbye, to Michael, his son, still holding his car keys in his hand, making sure to get in his car immediately so that others would know that the Porsche belonged to him.

Ardwyn had known Michael since meeting him in the school band class. Even though rich, Michael seemed down to earth and friendly enough.

While Ardwyn’s clothes were plain, and few, Michael wore brand name shirts, with designs, polos — Ardwyn had lost track how many clothes Michael had. It seemed that all throughout the year Michael had never worn the same clothes twice, including a different watch every other week.

“How was your summer?” Michael said with an easy going smile when he sat down next to Ardwyn.

“Good, yours?” Ardwyn said.

“Not bad,” Michael said. “You had any time to practice?”

Ardwyn and Michael both played trombone in the school band. Practicing after school was strongly encouraged.

“Not a lot actually,” Ardwyn said. Carrying the large case of his trombone was a pain, while Michael had two sets of trombones, one in the school band shelf, and the other at home. He didn’t have to lunge the big trombone case around like Ardwyn if he did decide to take his trombone home for practice.

“Yeah, I also didn’t play a lot,” Michael said. “But I’m actually excited about band this year. You know, that’s not the cool thing to do, but whatever.”

Ardwyn thought, you don’t need to act cool if you have money. Sometimes Michael noticed that Ardwyn didn’t have lunch at school, and would offer to buy him lunch. Ardwyn usually declined, but Michael bought him lunch anyway without seeming the slightest unfazed by spending money. Money for Michael seemed to be a given of life.

“You checked your schedule? When is band class?” Michael asked.

“I believe second period,” Ardwyn said.

“That’s earlier than last year. I’m excited about performing though, summer was cool but got boring.”

Boring was not the word that Ardwyn would use. While Michael looked forward to class, Ardwyn would rather sink in a hole than go to school. He had just a few sets of clothing before he had to start wearing the same thing, and feel the dread of being self conscious in a never ending string of school days, while pretending like he wasn’t hungry during lunch and having to decline Michael’s offers for lunch on the days that his mom didn’t have enough money that week to buy groceries, when rent came up.

Ardwyn sat there in silence. He showed no hints of how he was feeling in his expression, trying to hide hints of his poverty, while half suspecting everyone could somehow sense it on him anyway.

Just one more month, Ardwyn thought. One more month and he could apply for a job at the local grocery store and earn something.