Chapter 4

(Chapter song ‘Good Time' by Owl City)

QUINN “Quinn! Hurry up!” My dad yells from downstairs.

I stand in front of my mirror. I look over my black hair. I inspect my face and check my breath.

I fix my jacket and blow out my nerves. I can do this.

I turn and grab my backpack off the end of my double bed. I walk out the door of my redecorated room. It’s a teenagers room now.

I’ve been 14 for a few weeks now. I homeschooled myself in that time. Not that I needed it, but Trish insisted or she would rat me out to my dad. Nothing like being coerced by a house.

My mom took me to the education board after a couple of weeks of decompression. I wrote five hours of tests and they concluded I needed to be in high school at least. Skipping 8 grades has to be some sort of record.

We pull up in front of Solomon Collegiate. I open the door and step on the sidewalk.

There’s a massive courtyard with bike racks, trees and grass. The school is three floors and huge. A banner with the ‘Solomon Cougars' hung over the front doors.

Teenagers walked in and out of the doors in singles and groups. Some sat under the trees and hung out by the racks. Cars pull into the large crescent driveway to drop kids off and some have their own cars.

I look around and adjust my pack strap on my shoulder.

My dad comes around and stands beside me. “Pretty impressive, huh?”

I glance at him and look to the school. “I guess.”

My eyes float to an auburn haired, blue eyed girl standing with other guys and a girl under a tree. Her friend leans to her and whispers in her ear as they both look at me. The blue eyed girl smiles and gives a little wave. I slowly build a smile on my lips and give her one back.

My dad claps my back. “Let’s go.” He pushes me forward.

My head is cruising everywhere as we enter the large halls. Lockers line the halls and trophy cabinets display awards from the schools sport teams.

My dad leans to me. “Maybe you can bring home one of those.” He points to the big cups.

“Why?” My brow furrows.

“Because. It’s good ta have some sport under ya belt.” He smiles.

“You didn’t play sports.” I eye him.

“No, but learn from my mistakes. Join da football team.”

My head turns to the auburn haired girl as she holds her books in her arms. She gives me another smile and wiggles her fingers off her arm at me as she walks by. I smile bigger this time and wave back.

My dad leans to my ear. “Trust me, son.” I turn my head to him. He’s watches the girl walk away then looks at me. “Join da team.” He winks and claps my shoulder and directs me to the guidance councillors office.

****

“So, Quinten Preston. You’re quite the special young man.” Mrs. Frye, the schools guidance councillor sits behind her desk. Her black hair is pinned up and she adjusts her grey suit jacket. Her brown eyes slide between me and my father as I sit feeling a little overwhelmed.

It’s not that I feel like I don’t belong, but I feel the sheer size of it all is a bit…scary.

She flips papers in my school record. “Quinn. Your test scores were impressive. 1600 on the SATs is…Well, we all know what that means.” She chuckles.

My dad chuckles too. “That’s my boy.”

He ruffles my hair and I shove him off with a scowl. I fix my hair as I huff my frustration.

“With a 190 IQ score, I have to ask. What do you expect from us, Quinn?” She leans in her desk and folds her hands.

I shrug. “Don’t know.” I mumble.

My dad chuckles again. “We’re still adjusting ta all this.”

She nods. “I see. Ok. Tell me, Quinten. What’s your favorite subject?”

I glance at her then my dad. “I like biology.” I mumble as I tick my head.

“Good. I can work with that.” She turns to her computer and starts to type. “What about math?”

“I guess.” I’m not really enthusiastic about it, but I have to do something while I’m here.

“Now, Solomon High has all kinds of clubs and teams you can join.” She turns from the monitor to me. “What do you think about student council?”

“What’s that?” I ask.

“Well, it’s the student government branch to the parent council. Students vote on the student body president and form the student council. They discuss the issues of the school and present them to the faculty.” She informs.

“So, you train kids to be emotionally manipulative and lie to the public?” I arch a brow at her.

My dad sits up. “Quinn!” He grits, trying not to raise his voice. His eyes shoot daggers at me.

I shoot her a look that is probably more smart ass than anything else.

Mrs. Frye holds up her hand. “It’s totally fine Alpha Preston. Politics isn’t for everyone.” She smiles.

He grumbles something, adjusts his suit jacket as he sits back in his chair.

Mrs. Frye hands me a brochure. “This lists all the extra curricular activities Solomon Collegiate has to offer. Look through it and if you want to join, come to me and I’ll help you. It’s a great way to build relationships with your classmates.”

I flip through it. “Ok.”

She prints off a paper and hands it to me. “Here’s your timetable and the books required for your classes. There’s also a school store, if you want school shirts.” She grins at me and again I arch a brow. I’m not really feeling the whole cheering for the school thing.

“We’ll look through it. I’m sure Quinn’s excited to get to class, aren’t ya, bud?” My dad looks at me.

“Oh yeah, super excited.” I say with a little lacing of attitude.

Mrs. Frye pushes from her desk. “Ok. I’ll call an escort and they will help you with getting around for your first few days.”

She leaves for a few minutes.

My dad leans to me. “Look. I know you feel like your too smart for this place, but just give it a chance. Make friends. You could use some good friends right now.” He smiles at me.

I look down at my timetable. “Yeah, I guess.”

One thing about being suddenly book smart is, you have no idea how to be socially smart. A normal kid spends 8 years building that skill. Not me. I have my doubts that I can relate to any of these people.

After about fifteen minutes, Mrs. Frye walks back in with a kid who’s my height. His brown hair is messy and he has freckles everywhere.

“Quinten Preston, this is Eli Granger. He’ll be your escort.” She introduces.

Eli holds his hand out. “Is it Quinn?”

“Yeah. That’s cool.” I reply.

He adjusts his white shirt collar under his blue sweater. “Great. Come on. I’ll show you your locker.”

I look at my dad.

“Go on.” He waves me off. “I’ll pick you up after school.”

“Ok.” I get up and follow Eli out of the schools office.

“Everyone’s in homeroom now, but when they’re out, these halls get crazy so it’s best to memorize the map.” He says with his hands in his pockets.

“Map?”

He walks to a display case that almost touches the floor and ceiling. He points dramatically to it looking at me. “The map.” He points to an area at the bottom. “We are here. There’s one on every floor. There’s also phones on the walls to buzz the office if you need to. Emergency exits are anywhere you can get your ass out of the building fast.” He smirks.

I chuckle while I pull on my bag strap.

“Seriously, there’s signs pointing to the exits. You’ll find them.” He points to a sign saying exit.

“So, what school did you go to?” He asks as we walk into a stairwell.

“Solomon Elementary.” I answer.

“I went there. I don’t recognize you.” He says as we climb the echoing steps.

“You wouldn’t. I wasn’t part of the older grades.” I say.

“What do you mean?” He looks over his shoulder and furrows his brow.

“It’s complicated.” I answer.

He shrugs and opens the door to the second floor.

The halls are all shiny and the lockers are all blue and yellow.

“You, my strange friend, reside at this location, right here.” He points to a locker. “My place of residence is right here.” He points to a locker two doors down.

He hands me my lock combination and I commit it to memory. I open it and throw my bag inside.

“Ok. When you get to class, we'll get you your books.” He says as he grabs his books and closes his locker.

“Alright.” I agree.

“I have the same timetable as you so I can show you where all the classes are.” He claps my back and we enter the classroom beside the banks of lockers mines in.

There’s a tall male teacher at the front and the class is full of grade 9 teenagers doing math work. The walls are covered with math problems and posters of Einstein. The numerical conversion for Pi is taped to the edge of the wall and ceiling all around the classroom. I don’t even have to read it to know what it says.

“Can anyone tell me what the answer to this equation is?” The teacher writes on his smart board and stands with his hands in his pockets, waiting for an answer.

3x² + 12 + 9x – 20 + 6x² - x.

I stick my own hands in my pockets and puff my chest out. “9x² + 8x + 8.”

The whole class turns to me as I look for confirmation from the man in the black dress pants, white dress shirt and discount tie.

“Very good, Mister…” He searches.

“Preston. Quinten Preston.” I smile.

He stands in front of me. “Ok. Mr. Preston. Care to share how you reached that conclusion?”

I scratch my temple and stuff my hand back in my pocket. “I would, but I feel like explaining rudimentary mathematical equations to someone with a mediocre teaching degree kind of sucky.” I stare him down.

The class snickers and he shoots them a look.

I side eye them with a sly smile.

Eli leans to me from behind. “Not cool, buddy.”

I look over my shoulder and smirk.

He crosses his arms. “I’m Mr. Robins. Take your seats. Both of you.” He glares at me.

I look for an empty and I see the girl from earlier. I smile, but she doesn’t smile this time. Eli grabs my arm and walk down the aisle. I take the empty desk behind her and Eli is across from me.

Mr. Robins continues his lesson, but I don’t pay attention. All I can concentrate on is the silky hair of the beautiful girl in front of me. I don’t really understand what I’m feeling as I stare at her.

I want to say something, but I don’t know what. Her scent is subtle. Like summer rain. I wonder if it’s her shampoo that smells like that.

I hype myself to lean forward and introduce myself when I’m beaned in the head with a wad of paper. I sit back and furrow my brow.

A big blonde guy in a school jacket shakes his head no at me. I scowl at him and he sends it back with a fist in his hand.

“You boys need to take it outside?” Mr. Robins says from the front of the class.

We both whip our heads to him.

“No, Mr. Robins. We're cool.” The guy says and settles into his seat. He shoots me a warning glare and slump back in my seat.

I see the girl turn her head to over her shoulder. Her blue eye meets mine and I’m flooded with nerves. She turns back and I blow out a breath.

****

High school really isn’t that bad once you get used to it.

Sure, I’ve been here three months and I’ve had eight warnings and my dad got called twice, but otherwise…it’s pretty good for keeping my intellect entertained.

Friends, on the other hand, is a little more difficult.

Eli’s pretty much the only one that wants to hang around me. I don’t know why. I’m super smart and super funny. I never had a problem when I was little.

“You know, insulting peoples intelligence does not make friends.” Eli says to me as we break for lunch.

“What English teacher thinks Dickens was any kind of a cultural influencer? All he did was sugar coat his prejudices under the guise of helping the working classes. It’s ridiculous to assume he has any affect on modern society today.” I shake my head as we walk into cafeteria.

“Ok, Quinn. You’re hurting my brain and I’m trying to mentally prepare my stomach for Taco Tuesday, ok. Second, calling your English teacher a literary hack is only going to get you suspended.” Eli walks to the food line and grabs a tray.

I follow him. “I’m just saying, with the pack budgets this school gets, you think they’d get better educators…” My words trail off as my eye catches my first crush enter the cafeteria. They follow her as she sits down with her friends. “Just three words. ‘Hi, I’m Quinn.’ Why is that so damn difficult?”

I found out her name was Rita. A human. A totally hot human. I’ve been trying to get the balls to talk to her, but every time I see her I choke.

“Just do it. She’s not going to come to you.” Eli drops five tacos on his tray.

I glance her way and place an apple on mine. “I don’t know. I used to be able to talk to girls and now…it’s different.”

Eli wraps his arm around me. “When you talked to girls, your pants didn’t rule the conversation. Now, they do. Welcome to puberty, my friend. Makes our muscles big and our brains stupid.”

I cinch my brows and turn my head to him.

“In the woman department, idiot.” He shoves me down the line.

“I studied all the dating advice…How to approach, how not to. I went over all the peer reviewed studies on human interactions and communication. This shouldn’t be this hard.” I counted on my fingers as I listed all the things I’ve researched on how to just say hi to Rita.

Eli puts two puddings on his tray. “Look. You can’t study how to interact with people. You have to actually do it.”

I pay for my food and Eli joins me as we walk through crowds of students to a table. “What if she tells me to go away? What if she laughs in my face? What if she runs away screaming?!” My eyes widen as I walk around a group of girls giggling.

“God, you’re so dramatic.” Eli shakes his head. “Look. All you do is walk up to her and say…”

His sentence was interrupted with me hitting Rita in the chest with my tray and sending her to her ass. My lunch of mac and cheese, smashes into my chest and falls to the floor.

The students around us jump back and start to laugh.

“Oh shit!” Elis eyes widen as his head flips back and forth between us.

My whole body lit on fire. My head is beat fucking red and my face turns from shock to utter humiliation.

“Oh my god! Rita…You ok?” I almost spill my own ass to the floor, slipping on the noodles on the tile.

“Are you serious?!” She holds out her sweatshirt which is now covered in orange juice.

“Rita…I’m so sorry, um…Here...” I squat down and grab a napkin off the floor. I try and pad the juice off the front of her sweater.

“Just…Will you stop!” She yells.

I stand back up. “Sorry. Let me help you…” I hold my hands out to her.

She pushes them away. “No. I got it.” She fixes her hair and stands up.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see…” I look her over.

“Clearly.” She groans as she wipes at her maroon Hoodie.

“You got…um…” I reach out and pick a noodle out of her hair, show it to her and throw it on the floor.

She scowls at me and looks at her sweater. “I can’t believe this.” She grabs the hem and pulls it off. My brows stitch up. She’s now standing in front of me in a baby blue tank top. Her chest is dappled in wet spots from the juice.

“I…I can wash it for you.” I offer. My body starts to sweat as I try to not feel like a complete moron.

She looks at me. “No. It’s OK. Besides, it looks like you have your own laundry to do.

I look down at my own sweatshirt covered in cheese, noodles and chocolate pudding. I rub my nape. “I guess I do.” I swipe all the solid food off and reach back, pull it off and straighten my t-shirt.

“ALRIGHT, MOVE!”

The crowd parts and the lunch lady comes into the circle. She waves the kids away. “Move along! Nothing to see here! Get going!” She barks. “You two! Get going!” She shoos us out of the mess.

“Right…um…I’m sorry…for the mess…” I say to her as I step out the way, pushing Rita back. “I can help…if you want.”

“Just get out of the way, you clumsy boy” My mouth goes small and I look at Rita. She shrugs and we look back at her.

“Go!!” She yells.

We both arch back, turn and walk briskly out the second door to the cafeteria.

Rita makes a hard right and I catch up to her. “I’m really sorry. I feel awful.”

“That’s surprising.” She glances at me.

“What? That I’m sorry?” I raise a brow.

“No, that you actually have feelings.” She eyes me.

I furrow my brow. “I have feelings.” I stop and cross my arms.

She turns to me. “Really because you certainly don’t act like it. You definitely have no clue how they work.”

“Yes, I do. Emotions are influenced by a network of interconnected structures in the brain that make up what is known as the limbic system…”

She throws up her hands. “Ugh…No!” She stomps to me, grabs my hand and pulls me down the hall to the side of the school leading into the football field.

“What?!!” I flop my hand out as I’m dragged away to my social execution.

She pulls me to the bleachers over looking the field. “Sit!” She barks.

I look around and then down at her. She motions her head to the seat next to her.

“Ok.” I mumble and slide down to the bench beside her. I sit stiff, chewing on my lip. Not really knowing how I’m supposed to behave or even make sense of the feelings I have right now.

“Look, Quinn. First off, relax. I’m not mad.” She leans on her knees and clasps her hands together.

“You aren’t?” I raise my brows to her.

She smiles a bit. “No. It was an accident.”

I blow out a breath and lean my elbows on my knees. “Thank God.” I say as I hold my head.

“Second, we all know you’re smart. You don’t need to show it off and make people feel bad. You need to stop hurting people’s feelings.” She stares into my eyes.

“I don’t mean too.” I say. “I just tell the truth.”

“Sometimes the truth doesn’t need to be said. Cool people don’t hurt people.” She informs.

“People are weird.” I mumble.

She leans to me and giggles. “You’re really weird.”

I roll my eyes to her. “You don’t even know the half of it.” I grin.

She smiles back.

I lean back on the bleacher seat behind me and cross my feet on the bench below as we talk and that’s where I land my first girlfriend.