A NEW BEGINNING

The morning sun stretched lazily over the horizon, its golden light slipping through the cracks in the wooden window shutters. Outside, the wind carried the scent of damp earth and freshly cut hay, mingling with the soft chirping of birds perched on the fence posts. The distant sound of cows lowing in the fields and the rhythmic clucking of hens filled the air, marking the start of another day in the countryside.

Inside a small but cozy home, the scent of warm bread and sizzling eggs drifted from the kitchen, creeping under the doors and into Zach's room. The modest wooden walls bore signs of age, the floors creaking lightly under the movement of the household. A thin, handwoven curtain swayed gently with the morning breeze, letting in soft rays of sunlight that stretched across the simple bed where Zach lay.

A loud knock came at his door, jolting him awake.

"Zach, wake up! Breakfast is almost ready!" a familiar voice called.

Zach groaned, turning onto his side, burying his face into his pillow. His muscles ached from yesterday's work—hauling sacks of wheat, chopping wood, and helping with the livestock. He wasn't ready to get up just yet.

Another knock, more impatient this time.

"Zach, I mean it! You're going to be late for school!"

With a reluctant sigh, he pushed himself up, his dark hair a messy tangle from sleep. He rubbed his eyes and stretched, his joints popping slightly as he swung his legs off the bed. The cool wooden floor made him wince, but he ignored it as he made his way to the small washstand in the corner.

Scoop, splash. The cold water against his face was enough to jolt him fully awake. The reflection in the cracked mirror above showed a lean young man with hazel eyes still heavy with drowsiness. He ran a hand through his unruly hair, attempting to smooth it down with little success.

After changing into his usual school attire—nothing fancy, just a simple button-up shirt and worn trousers—he turned to the two bags sitting in the corner of his room. His belongings. It wasn't much—just some clothes, a few books, and necessities packed neatly into an old, sturdy duffel bag alongside a smaller bag for his school supplies.

This was it. He was moving into school today.

He heaved a sigh, slung one bag over his shoulder, and grabbed the other before heading out to the kitchen.

---

The kitchen was warm and inviting, the scent of buttered bread and fresh eggs filling the air. The wooden table, though slightly worn from years of use, was set with simple ceramic plates and tin cups filled with warm milk. The fire crackled in the small hearth, adding to the cozy atmosphere.

His mother was by the stove, flipping eggs on a cast-iron pan while his younger sibling sat at the table, munching on a thick slice of bread. The little one's feet swung under the chair, eyes lighting up as Zach entered.

"You finally woke up," they teased, grinning.

Zach rolled his eyes, ruffling their hair as he pulled out a chair. "Yeah, yeah. Morning."

His mother turned with a knowing smile. "You worked hard yesterday. I figured you'd have a tough time getting up." She placed a plate in front of him—eggs, some slices of smoked ham, and warm bread fresh from the oven. "Eat up. You'll need your strength."

Zach muttered a thanks before digging in, savoring the simple but hearty meal. His father wasn't in the kitchen, but the sound of an old truck rumbling outside told him exactly where he was—checking if the damn thing would start this time.

His brother eyed his bags with a pout. "You're really leaving today, huh?"

Zach slowed his chewing, swallowing before nodding. "Yeah."

A small silence stretched between them before they mumbled, "It's gonna be weird not having you around."

Zach smirked, reaching over to ruffle their hair again. "I'll be back during breaks. Don't miss me too much."

Their mother chuckled. "Don't let him fool you. He'll miss home more than we'll miss him."

Zach only shrugged, stuffing another piece of bread into his mouth. She wasn't wrong.

After finishing his meal, he grabbed his bags and stepped outside.

---

The old truck sat in front of the house, a beaten-up thing with faded paint, rust on the edges, and a dented front bumper. It had been in the family for years, barely hanging on, but it still worked—mostly. His father stood by it, sleeves rolled up, wiping his hands on a rag after checking under the hood.

"Did it start?" Zach asked, setting his bags down by the passenger side.

His father grunted. "Eventually." He eyed the luggage before nodding toward the back. "Load 'em up. We'll be heading out soon."

Zach hoisted the heavier bag into the truck bed, securing it before tossing in the smaller one. As he dusted off his hands, his mother stepped onto the porch, arms crossed.

"Behave yourself, alright? Focus on your studies."

"I know, Ma."

"And don't get into trouble."

Zach smirked. "No promises."

She gave him a look but sighed, walking up to give him a quick hug. "Be safe."

His brother ran out, wrapping their arms around his waist. "You better not forget us when you get all smart and important."

Zach chuckled, hugging them back. "Like I could ever forget."

His father climbed into the driver's seat, starting the truck with a loud rumble. "Time to go, Zach."

Taking a deep breath, Zach hopped in, glancing back at his home one last time as they pulled away.

---

The drive to school wasn't long, but the bumpy dirt roads made it feel longer. The countryside stretched endlessly—fields of wheat swaying with the wind, patches of forest breaking up the golden landscape, and the occasional farmhouse dotting the horizon.

Zach leaned against the window, watching as they passed familiar sights. He'd never lived anywhere but home, and now he was heading to a place where he'd be surrounded by strangers. It was exciting… but also a little nerve-wracking.

His father didn't talk much during the drive, only occasionally muttering about the truck's condition whenever it sputtered.

When they finally reached the school gates, Zach sat up straighter, taking in the sight before him. Students were arriving—some on foot, others in carts or vehicles much fancier than theirs. The school building stood tall in the distance, a mix of brick and wood, not too extravagant but still imposing.

His father pulled up near the entrance, putting the truck in park. "Need help with your bags?"

Zach shook his head, already stepping out. "I got it."

He grabbed his luggage from the back, slinging one bag over his shoulder while dragging the other along. His father didn't say much—just gave him a firm nod.

"Take care."

Zach nodded back. "See you soon."

With that, his father drove off, leaving Zach standing there, staring up at the school.

Taking a deep breath, he turned—and promptly walked straight into someone.

"Oof—watch it," came a voice, slightly amused.

Zach blinked up at a boy with dark brown curls and amber eyes, dressed in the same school uniform.

"Didn't see you there," Zach muttered.

"No worries," the boy replied. He extended a hand. "Name's Caleb."

Zach hesitated briefly before shaking it. "Zach."

"Well, Zach, try not to walk into anyone else, yeah?" Caleb chuckled before stepping past him. "See you around."

Zach exhaled, shaking his head with a small smirk before hoisting his bag higher on his shoulder and heading toward the dorms.