It was a regular morning. As always I was listening to music. I was walking to school, the first day of seventh grade at a Manhattan Middle School. Heck, maybe it was just how cold it was outside or maybe it was my ADHD, but my music should've been able to keep me calm.
I met up with my friend, August, he had curly brown hair that was covered up by a hat that read probably New York Knicks but I wasn't sure, probably my dyslexia kicking in. Did he wear that hat all the time? I had no clue. He wore sweat pants, a pair of sneakers and a baby blue sweater.
"Hey Peck, who's your teacher this year?" August limped beside me.
"I think it's Mr. Hopper, you?" I looked over at him, his hazel eyes shimmered with relief.
"I got Mr. Hopper too. Did you hear that he was Scottish?" He looked forwards again.
"That's so cool, to have a Scottish teacher!" I threw a fist into the air out of excitement.
"Yeah, it's really cool." August chuckled nervously.
"What's the matter?"
"Nothing, I'm just tired."
"Come on, you don-"
I was cut off as the first bell rang, a herd of sixth and seventh graders ran into the school to escape the frigid outdoors. August and I hurried inside. We entered our huge school, it had two floors, a gym, a "music studio" as Mrs. Jade liked to call it and eleven classrooms.
"Let's get to Mr. Hopper's class and fast!" August grabbed my hand and tugged me up the stairs to the second floor.
"I can make it up to the second floor by myself- oof!" I bumped into another kid. I looked up and scowling down at me was Mathew Glinden.
"Watch it, freak." He snapped and continued up the stairs.
"Come on, August, let's go." I continued up the stairs with my friend.