different countries, different customs 2

After a quick English lesson in the rather big difference of both phrases caused Michael to feel pretty stupid and embarrassed, he wanted to apologize to the other two students, but the principal started to talk again before he could say anything.

“So Michael, you thought you heard Claire being attacked, stormed into the room and attacked John?”
“Not really, I did ran into the room yes, but I did not intentionally attack John..at least not on purpose..”

Michael saw that the principal seemed pretty skeptical of his statement and wanted to say something, but Michael continued before he could ask another question.

“When you met my father, did he mention something about health problems of mine?”

The skeptical look on the principals face turned now into a confused one

“I don't know what you are talk..ah wait yes he did mention something. That you would have a tendency to..collapse? Fall down stairs and similar things due..a problem with your balance system? But what has that to do with this incident?” and for the first time during the whole conversation his voice seemed to lose his softness Michael had noticed earlier. “Well, when I ran into the room I did not try attack him.”

Michael answered and pointed to the boy next to him

“I had not even the chance to because after I started running I started to feel extremely dizzy and lost my balance, due the mentioned problems. Then I ..”falled” more or less on John, what must have seemed for him like I was trying to attack or push him away.”

“And then John did hit you on your face so strong that you are still bleeding?”

wanted the principal to know, still sounded somewhat confused. John tried to answer

“Well I thought he was”

but was interrupted by Michael

“Actually he didn't. Well yes he did hit me, but not on my nose and neither that hard. But when did I completely lost my balance as I already felt completely dizzy and simple fell down rather unlucky.”

He said and pointed with his free hand on the big bloody thing in his face, but at least the bleeding seemed to be stopping now.

After it turned out that nobody was attacked, and everything was a rather misunderstanding the matter was dropped rather fast. Michael excused himself several times to everyone, and John was told him that he was sorry for the bloody nose. John and Claire went back to their classroom and Michael tried to finish up his paperwork in time so he would not be late for his first class at an high school in the U.S. Luckily is father had already done most of the work and there was not much more to do for him than to pick up his schedule and to find out where and when he as to be.

Walking around the always he had already found the room where his first class would start any minute, but first he had to find something else. He hoped to find a bathroom in time, since he feared that starting his school career while wearing a blood covered shirt would be kind of a black omen. Due this not being the first time he found himself with his clothes full of his own blood due is inner ear problems he always carried reserve clothes with him. He finally found the bathroom he was looking for, rushed into a cabin and changed. After he put his dirty shirt back in his backpack he went left the cabin and washed the remaining blood from his face and hands. After he stopped looking like a serial killer on the run, he had no further reason to waste time and made his way to the classroom.

He arrived just in time before the class started, which also proved to be a lucky coincidence as all other students seemed to be already there and he simply could choose one of the remaining seats without the fear that he stole someone's chair. He wasn't even sure if students here had “fixed chairs” in the classrooms, as their classes did not seem to be fixed either. In Germany you always have lessons with the exact same group for students until you leave the school, while here it seemed to change every time. He could have biology with students he would otherwise never see at the school. He found this concept rather strange and believed it would make it harder to learn to know anyone here, as he would always be with other teenagers every time the ring bells. He was already bad at remembering names and faces, but this way the school might be over before he could have memorized anyone. The desk he had grabbed was in the in the second first row, which came not to a bug surprise to him. The idea that the farther away you are from the teacher the more safer you are from him did most likly apply to all schools, no matter where they were.

He was searching in his back bag, looking for his block when all the students in the room started to stand up at the same time and started to say something. Since they all spoke at once Michael could not understand what they where saying or what they were doing at first, but then realized that they also had put their hands over the place where their hearts were.
This pledge-thing it dawned to him. Not sure how he should react right now, since something like doing the pledge of allegiance did not exist in his home, he felt a short spike of panic rise in him. He could hardly to it with them as he did not know the text anyway..or what to do in general..nor did he simply want to ignore it as he assumed everyone else might find this kind of offensive. While this kind of gesture were nowadays virtually unheard of in Germany they seemed to be very important for the people in this country. He decided to attempt a compromise and stood up from his chair, but did neither try to act like he did know the text nor did he lay his hand over his hand.

I mean..I can't really swear loyalty to the flag of a different nation where I have lived for less than a week. Michael thought . And why to they swear to the flag anyway? I mean..of course few countries do look down to all “patriotic traditions” like his did, but should an oath not be..well to the people? Or the constitution? Or some ideal? A flag, regardless of what she stood fore in the past, or might stand for right now can so easily be misused. Would it not be better if the pledge would refer to something that simply cannot be corrupted or misused in any way. It ran through his head while around him the student and the teacher were reciting the text everyone except him did know, But..well on the other hand..I don't even know how the complete pledge goes. Maybe I should read it up before acting like a smart ass.

While Michael was still arguing with himself he could make out the words “justice for all” and everyone sat down again. He followed their examples and wondered how many noticed what he did, or not did in the last minute..or if anyone cared at all. The teacher turned away from the flag which was standing in the corner and went to a desk and picked up a piece of paper. According to Michaels schedule his name was “Mr. Johnson” and was their biology teacher for the year..or semester. High schools seemed to changed their schedules sometimes in the middle of the year, but Michael was not sure how that worked and since it was still several month away he did not care much either. The teacher started to check the attendance. Name after name he called out the students who answered always with a single word like “here” or “yeah”. Mt. Johnson looked like he was in his early fifty, was wearing a simple suit with a green fly. While he was not yet bald, he looked extremely tired and worn out, like this job, or something else had taken a heavy toll on him. His voice was monotonous and reminded one more of a synthetic computer voice instead of that of a human being..as far as teacher could qualify for humans. Michael tried to catch up a few of the names and tried to remember who answered to it, but when it came to person, faces and names, his memory was short than that of a goldfish. As Mr. Johnson reached the end of the list he looked up from his paper, directly and Michael.

“And you would be?” asked the biology teacher in a voice that made it clear that he did really care for the answer.

“Michael, Michael Reiter. I am new student, my family just moved here.” was his answer, rather surprised that he got a somewhat correct answer in English out of his mouth without thinking about it before.

“Mh” was the only response he got from the teacher. Mr Johnson opened a book, looked around it for a short times, apparently looking for a certain page, and then started talking about the way the inner organs of a frog work. Or something about that. As soon as biological terms started to fly around in the room Michael lost all track. He could not even make any notes to look the words up as he simply did not know what the teacher was talking about. He hoped he could get the notes from one of the other students later...but since he did not know anybody he had no idea who he should ask.

Time passed slowly while Mr. Johnson kept on reading and talking, with few students taking notes, and even those did not seem very interested in the subject. While everyone was bored the class seemed to be surprisingly quiet for the moment and Michael could hardly hear any chatter from the students around him. Maybe the teacher was quick with whatever forms of punishment existed at American school, and Michael was pretty sure that detention seldom was as entertaining as in Breakfast Club. So he spent his time trying to look around and to catch a few views of his new classmates. Since he was not sitting in the back of the room this was kind of hard without drawing too much attention, and from the handful of students before him he could not see much expect their hair. It seemed that he shared the room with about 25 other students and the females seemed to outnumber the boys by a small amount (but there were two students Michael was not really sure if they really were females. Emos apparently did also exist in the U.S.).

He managed to survive the class without any further faux pas like the one he had with John and Claire, and even the remaining classes until lunch went by without anything interesting happening. He was amazed how dull most high school apparently could be. While in Germany the teacher usually engage in discussion with their students, here they pretty much ignored the class as long as they kept quiet. You could basically replace them with with a voice recorder and a sign to press play when the lesson starts At home, a good teacher was considered someone who could let his pupils to all, or almost all the talking, since they usually paid more attention to what they self say, instead of what their teachers are telling them. His first day on this school reminded him of the old Chaplin movie Modern Times. Just that instead of pulling levers or turning wheels on has to try to take notes in a language he was far from fluent. He guessed it was somewhat worse for him compared to his new schoolmates since could not participate in the lively chatter that sparked to live whenever students had walk to their new classes. As Michael was on his way to the cafeteria, he had not to lock for any signs, he simply followed the masses, he remembered a saying he once heard somewhere:

To truly feel alone you have be around a lot of people.

Now he believed he understood what it meant. He was in a different country, on a different school were people spoke a different language and so far the only contact he made with any of them consisted pretty much of a fist into his face. At least there was one danger he knew he would successfully avoid at least today, the food they sell in the cafeteria. He had made his lunch himself at home, as he was not sure what they would serve here, or if he even had the time to buy something. He entered the cafeteria and found himself having made the right decision this morning. The room was rather small, considering how the number of students wanting to eat here, and the queue was already huge. There dozens of bigger tables in the middle of the room, with smaller ons at the wall, just big enough for maybe 2 or 3 students to sit there. The tables were filling up fast, and if Michael had had to wait in the queue first to get his lunch he most likely would not have found a free seat, but since he could simply ignore the waiting masses he found a still free table at on of the wall near at the far end of the room. He sat down on of the two chairs at the table and started look for his lunch, hidden somewhere in the deeps of his bags.

“Mind if I sit here?”

Michael needed a second to realize that the question was directed at him as he still trying to make his way into the abyss of his back bag.

“Hm? Sure..” Michael mumbled while his head moved up. As his eyes met the person standing in front of him, a flash ran through his whole body, a flash from the past. He felt like he was hit by an electric shock, his heart started pumping and panic was spreading through his whole mind. Michael jumped from his stair and tried to walk a step back but just hit his chair which felt over.

“Bleib weg von mir!” Stay away from me! He shouted in German, and raised his arms as he he would expect to be attack any moment. Somewhere in his mind a faint voice tried to tell him that he must be wrong, that it was not her, it could not be her, but it was yet to faint to make itself heard, as his eyes clearly told him otherwise. The girl standing before him looked just like Lydia, his last, his first, girlfriend. Her face had the same prominent cheeks which were almost as red as her shoulder long hair. The style of clothes was similar too. All her clothes were dark, she wore top which sleeves went until her hands which were covered by fingerless gloves. Her short skirt was held by a belt decorated with metal studs, and under it she wore long dark pants. Except for necklace with a round silver looking medal, she did not wear any jewellery. She was holding a bottle of water in the one, and a lunch bag in the other hand.

“Wha...?” She began to say confused but interrupted herself “Are you alright?”

It is not her, slowly that tiny voice of all the remaining reason he had left was making itself heard. She looks much like her, but not the same. The eyes have a different colour...and her breast are smaller than Lydias. Michael felt a small spark of guilt after the last though but mostly relieved that the person in front of him was indeed not the one person he was glad he had left behind in Germany.

“Äh” he muttered, “Sorry, I thought you were someone else and ...” He did not know how to explain his reaction, at least not without getting into a conversation he would prefer to avoid and doubted anyone would want to hear. The girl took a quick look around the room, which was already filled up while even more students entered. As she doubted she would find any other free seats he shrugged her shoulders lightly and sat down, while Michael picked the chair back up, still somewhat nervous, and sat down too.
“Do I look so scary to you?” She asked Michael with a slight amusement in her voice over his weird reaction and took a sip from her bottle.

“Sorry, no it is just..you happen to look very much like a person I...” He stocked there for a short moments looking for the proper words without giving away to much “... a person I once knew, and the last time we had been together in a room..was not an experience I am very fond of.”

“So bad that I almost gave you an heart attack?” She questioned your further, “Ah and by the way, I'm Ann.”

“My name is Mich..” again he stopped himself realizing he was again using the German pronunciation. “Michael” he said again, this time the English way.

“You do not even remember your name right? That must have been quite a scary bitch...” Ann countered, giving Michael the feeling that she enjoyed all this..similar to the way people enjoy watching videos of other falling down and hurting themselves..he wondered if there was an English word for 'Schadenfreude'.

“No, its just..my family just moved here from Germany. And my name is actual Michael, but Americans are never able to say it right, that why I go by the English version.” He tried to explain

“Mikael” She tried, getting pretty close to it. “Doesn't sound that hard..so...Mikael but enough dodging. What did that girl do you that I can still see you shaking?”

“How do you know that it was a girl?” Michael asked surprised.

“Well you did say that I look like her,” Ann pointed out, “And last time I checked I was still a girl.”

“Oh..right” Michael answered. The combination of logic and females was not something he was used to. “Well..Lydia, that was her name, was my girlfriend and at one point things started to take a bad turn...and the last time I saw her she attacked me with a glass bottle...”

“Hell hath no fury...” Ann started the famous quote, but Michael did not know it and could only give her a confused look. “Never mind, but what did you do that pissed her off so much that she attacked you?”

“Actually it was something I refused to do.” was Michaels answer which earned him a raised eyebrow from Ann. He shacked his head slightly. “Sorry, I would prefer not to go into too many details. Besides, you would most likely not believe it anyway.”

“Lunch is still 30 minutes, my food sucks and I have nothing else to do...try me.” She challenged him. “I promise not to laugh...except of course it is completely hilarious.”

Michael first did not want to change his mind, but on the other hand he often wished he could have talked to someone about what happened with Lydia, but back home he kept, at least most of the story, to himself. He was also somewhat relieved that someone was actually talking to him, after he spent several hours as a phantom to others. Finally, the way she looked, talked and acted, reminded him of the girl he once loved and gave him a weird feeling of calmness. The way Lydia did before she took a turn into crazy town. He had not made up his mind yet, but his mouth opened on his own and made the decision for him.

“She..she wanted me to beat her. I don't really understood why..but for some reason she tried me to start hitting her, and the more I refused the madder she got, until she attacked me with the bottle.” Michael gave her the short version of what had happened.

“Okay...I have to admit I did not see that coming.”

Ann answered after a few seconds of silence, and for the first time it was her who seemed nervous. Michael assumed she was thinking what to say next, but instead of waiting for her, he started talking again. He told her about the ever bigger mood swings Lydia had had, how she started to act more and more unreasonable, exploded in anger for no reason whatsoever and then turn all her rage into sadness within seconds. How he found her lying on the floor crying the one moment, and shouting at him at the next. Ann listened, and all traces of that mischievous joy he had thought to have seen in her face earlier was gone. She did not interrupt him a single time until he had told it all.