The sharp electronic trill of the alarm clock cut through the stillness of the morning, its insistent clamor dragging Benjamin up from the depths of slumber. Jolted awake, he blinked blearily at the red numeric glow of 7:15 AM and felt a surge of panic grip his gut. First day of school! How could he have overslept?

In a flurry of motion, Benjamin threw back the rumpled sheets and comforter, limbs flailing as he hit the floor running. He snatched up a faded red hoodie from the pile of clothes strewn across his desk chair and tugged it over his head, not caring that it was inside-out. A pair of frayed jean shorts followed, barely clearing his ankles as he bounded toward the bathroom.

The minty taste of toothpaste flooded his mouth as Benjamin furiously scrubbed at his teeth. Foam dribbled down his chin, but he hardly noticed, his mind racing ahead to the thousand things he needed to do. Books, pencils, notebook - did he have everything ready in his backpack? Rinsing and spitting, he wiped his face with the damp towel and ran back to his room.

Benjamin's skateboard hung on the wall, a stoic black monolith amidst the chaotic volcano of clothes and clutter that erupted across every surface. He snagged it without breaking stride and scooped up his backpack from the floor, slinging it over one shoulder as he thundered down the stairs.

"Hey Maddie," he panted, skidding into the kitchen where his little sister Madelyn sat primly at the counter. Her immaculate appearance, from her neatly combed hair to her unwrinkled blouse, only emphasized his dishevelment.

Madelyn regarded him over a slice of perfectly golden-brown toast, raising one sardonic eyebrow. "You know, it would've been really nice if you'd woken me up an hour ago," Benjamin groused, throwing open the fridge door.

"Not my job," Madelyn replied, her tone holding just a whisper of smugness. "Besides, didn't you tell me to stay out of your room last year? If I recall, when I did try to wake you, you hurled a ball at my head."

Benjamin gulped down a swig of milk straight from the carton, knowing it would earn him a look of revolted disdain from his sister. Sure enough, Madelyn's pert nose wrinkled in distaste. "Where's Mom?" he asked once he'd drained the last drop. "Working the graveyard shift again?"

Madelyn gestured toward the bright yellow sticky note on the pristine countertop with a curt nod. Benjamin's eyes skimmed the looping cursive - Sorry for missing your first day, kids. Love you! - and sighed. At least some things never changed.

"Better get going, squirt," he told Madelyn, ruffling her hair in a way he knew she hated. "Can't be late on the first day, right?" Tucking his skateboard under one arm, Benjamin was out the door in a whirl of constant motion, his backpack thumping between his shoulders as he took off down the sidewalk at a run and then on his board.

The wheels of Benjamin's skateboard pounded against the cracked concrete of the sidewalk in a rhythmic staccato, propelling him through the bustling canyons of New York City. He weaved between lumbering pedestrians and darted around street vendors' carts with the deft agility of an urban ballet dancer, trading nods and shouted greetings with the familiar faces he passed.

"Ay, Ben!" One grizzled purveyor of hot breakfast sandwiches caught his eye, brandishing a paper-wrapped parcel enticingly. "Want one for the road? Fresh outta the oven, my friend!"

Benjamin felt his mouth water at the aroma of sizzled sausage and melted cheese wafting from the proffered meal. With a pang of regret, he called back, "Sorry, Paulie, can't stop! I'll take you up on that offer later though!"

Other vendors raised their voices in greeting as the blur of red hoodie and faded denim flashed by. "Morning, Ben!" "Heya, Benjamin!" Their cheery calls trailed behind him, swallowed up by the ambient roar of the city.

Pumping his legs harder, Benjamin risked a glance at his phone - 7:25 AM. Only five minutes until his first class. Heart hammering, he caught sight of the imposing brick edifice of Metro City High School looming ahead and put on an extra burst of speed.

He burst through the front doors in a wake of momentum, stumbling down the tiled hallway with his skateboard clattering along behind him. Benjamin fumbled in his backpack for the crumpled class schedule, eyes rapidly scanning the blocky text.

"What's my first class...c'mon, where is it?" he muttered under his breath, dodging startled students with a distracted "Excuse me, sorry!"

There! First period - English Literature with Mrs. Johnson. He groaned inwardly. Nothing killed the excitement of a fresh school year quite like being trapped in a boring reading class right off the bat.

Benjamin skidded around the final corner, finally spying the room number printed on a battered plaque beside the door. He made a frantic lunge for the doorknob, shoving through in a whirlwind of momentum...and promptly tripped over his own feet in an undignified sprawl.

Gasps and a sudden outbreak of hushed titters rose from the assembled students as all eyes swiveled to gawk at the panting figure of Benjamin crumpled in their midst. He froze, one arm half-flung out to brace his fall, mortification heating his cheeks.

The jarring trill of the bell chose that moment to pierce the silence, cementing his entrance as the absolute pinnacle of embarrassment. Benjamin's wince melted into a rueful grimace as he lurched back to his feet, adjusting his askew backpack.

"Nice of you to finally join us, Mr...?" Mrs. Johnson arched one eloquent eyebrow from behind her desk, her expression a portrait of long-suffering patience.

"Parker," Benjamin muttered, heading for the only remaining empty desk with his shoulders hunched. "Benjamin Parker. Sorry about the...yeah"

The elderly teacher waved away his apology with a cluck of her tongue. "Well, now that our last straggler has arrived, perhaps we can begin. Welcome to English Literature, students..."

As Mrs. Johnson launched into her syllabus spiel, Benjamin let out a silent sigh. Yep, it was shaping up to be that kind of first day already.

Mrs. Johnson’s words washed over Benjamin in a dull, monotonous drone. He struggled to keep his wandering mind focused on the elderly instructor, idly doodling in the margins of his notebook. A sharp sting against the back of his head pulled him from his daze.

Whipping around, Benjamin felt a grin tug at the corners of his mouth as his eyes landed on a familiar face - Kwame, one of his closest friends. The other boy's black and blonde locks were swept rakishly across his forehead, multiple silver studs glinting from his eyebrow and nostril. Kwame's lips curved into a mischievous smirk as he gave an exaggerated eye roll, jerking his chin toward the crumpled wad of paper that had served as his projectile.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

"Kwame...didn't see you come in," Benjamin mouthed, keeping his voice to a bare whisper.

The other boy's smirk blossomed into a full-blown grin, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. "I've been here the whole time, doofus," he stage-whispered back with relish. "Nice grand entrance by the way. Really setting the bar high for the rest of us on the first day of junior year, huh?"

Benjamin rolled his eyes with a quieted snort, his flush deepening as he recalled his humiliating tumble through the doorway. Before he could formulate a retort, Kwame was speaking again in that whisper pitched to carry across every desk between them.

"Me and Naomi were waiting for your lazy butt at the usual skate spot, but you never showed. Thought maybe you weren't coming in today after all." Another projectile flew through the air, this one a precisely folded paper football that bounced off Benjamin's shoulder. "Either that or you're just tragically terrible with time management."

Benjamin opened his mouth to protest, but the words died on his lips as Mrs. Johnson's voice sliced through their hushed exchange like a blade.

"Am I interrupting something over there, gentlemen?" She pierced them with a withering glare from beside the chalkboard, one perfectly arched eyebrow inched toward her severely pulled-back hairline.

"No, Mrs. Johnson," the two boys chorused, shaking their heads in overly innocent unison.

The English teacher held their gazes for one long, skeptical moment before continuing with her lecture. As her back turned, Kwame caught Benjamin's eye once more with a conspiratorial grin. Silently, the pair of them dissolved into stifled snickers, earning a few curious looks from their confused classmates.

The bell sliced through the classroom, signaling the merciful end of first period. Benjamin sagged with relief as the sudden clamor of voices and scraping chairs filled the air around him. He stuffed his notebook haphazardly into his backpack and rose, falling into step beside Kwame as they merged into the churning stream of students flooding the hallways.

"What's the joyous agenda for second period?" Kwame asked with a sly grin, nodding toward the creased schedule Benjamin was unfolding.

Benjamin's groan was an answer enough as he squinted at the paper. "Algebra II with Mr. Singh," he grumbled, shoulders slumping. Of course, his torture would continue seamlessly into the next block.

A bark of laughter burst from Kwame's lips as he waved his schedule aloft, the smug look on the other boy's face making Benjamin's insides churn with envy. "Sucks to be you, dude. I've got P.E. this period - home free!"

"You're a junior this year, genius." Benjamin fixed his friend with a flat look. "Aren't you supposed to be loading up on classes that actually matter? Instead of just gaming the system for an easy ride every semester? Actually, how come I can never make it in P.E?"

Kwame arched one pierced brow in a perfect mirror of their English teacher's earlier expression. "Hey, I played by the rules fair and square. It's not my fault the course registration system is a janky mess." He tapped his chin in an exaggerated pantomime of thought. "Although...now that you mention it, I do seem to recall Coach Davis swearing up and down that he'd never let your scrawny butt darken the doorway of his gym class again after that little 'stunt' you pulled last year."

A flush crept up Benjamin's neck as flashes of memory bubbled to the surface - the fateful afternoon of the great dodgeball insurrection, the rallying cry that had sparked it all, and the sheer pandemonium that had ensued. Maybe it hadn't been his finest moment in hindsight.

"Yeah...maybe he blacklisted me," Benjamin muttered, hunching his shoulders beneath the weight of Kwame's amused smirk.

The other boy's responding snicker was cut short as a familiar figure shouldered his way through the teeming crowds, skateboard gripped casually in one hand. Naomi Singh - their third musketeer.

"Hey, dudes!" The shorter boy's angular features split into a broad grin, his blunt wolf-cut fringe flopping roguishly across one eye. Streaks of vivid teal and violet peeked through the jet-black strands. "You guys got stuck with Johnson for English Lit, huh?"

Kwame nodded with a longsuffering sigh. "A damn shame you couldn't join in the fun, Naomi. We would've had that old bird tearing her remaining hair out within the first ten minutes."

"Ten minutes?" Benjamin scoffed, unable to resist joining in on the playful ribbing. "Please, Kwame...we all know you two trouble magnets would have had that poor woman in tears within the first five."

Naomi grinned, his eyes crinkling with mirth as he raised one hand for a high-five that Benjamin was all too happy to return with a satisfying smack of skin on skin. Kwame rolled his eyes in mock exasperation, but the curl of his lips belied his amusement at their friendly back-and-forth.

"Alright, alright...as much as I'd love to stand around swapping stories about emotionally scarring our educators, I've got better places to be." Kwame jerked a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing vaguely down the hallway. "Pretty sure the gym's calling my name."

"More like the ladies in there are calling yours," Naomi quipped.

Benjamin laughed as Kwame flipped them both a one-fingered salute, already backing away with easy, loping strides. "Catch you losers later. Try not to let the schoolwork scramble your brains too much while I'm off being productive!"

Chuckling under his breath, Benjamin adjusted the straps of his backpack and set off in the opposite direction with a halfhearted wave. "See you boys at lunch..."

Naomi called out something about praying for his survival in math class, but the parting remark was nearly drowned out in the surrounding noise. Benjamin grimaced - it would take a miracle to make it through Algebra II without suffering a grisly demise by way of mind-numbing boredom.

He trudged onward, following the path leading deeper into the sprawling maze of math and science hallways. Bodies shifted and parted as Benjamin wove between them, the shuffling current of students carrying him inevitably toward his dreaded destination. Just as he reached the appropriate wing, a familiar face caught his eye amidst the churning sea of strangers.

"Natália!" Benjamin's face split into a grin as he altered his trajectory, angling toward the slim figure waiting by the classroom door. Striking even in her simple jeans and t-shirt, the girl's bright white locks and warm brown skin seemed to glow with an inner luminescence.

She spotted him at the same moment, full lips curving into a sunny smile that never failed to send an odd little flutter warming Benjamin's chest. With a few long strides, he covered the remaining distance between them.

"Hey, Nat. How's the first day back treating you so far?"

Natália's nose crinkled adorably as she shrugged one slim shoulder. "I dunno...feels like I'm still stuck in sophomore year half the time. Just with new teachers and classrooms, you know?"

Benjamin chuckled ruefully. "Yeah, I feel you on that one. Besides the, uh, mildly embarrassing start to my morning in English Lit, it hasn't been too terrible, I guess." He slid into the desk beside her with a sigh. "Didn't see you around much this summer - where'd you end up disappearing to?"

"Brazil," she replied easily, plush lips pursing in mild reproach. "Didn't I tell you I was going to visit my grandparents for a few weeks?"

Suddenly, a foggy recollection flickered in the back of Benjamin's mind - hasty goodbyes exchanged in the hallway amid a rush of end-of-year chaos, some vague mentions of travel plans... "You know, you probably did mention it," he admitted with a sheepish grin. "I'm just terrible at remembering specifics sometimes."

Natália's look of faux indignation melted into an amused smirk and soft giggle that set Benjamin's heart fluttering anew. He basked in the warmth of her smile for a long, lingering moment...until the ringing peal of the bell sliced through their hushed exchange.

As the echoing tone faded into expectant silence, Benjamin suppressed a groan and sank in his seat, resigning himself to the coming onslaught of algebraic torture.