Chapter 3 (Not the best start/Adam & Co)

Not the Best Start…

It was 7:45 in the morning, and the early, tenacious sun urged Dar-ren to wake up by shining itself on his squinting eyes, sitting up and do-ing that unorthodox ritual of waking up in the morning.
“Gooooodooooooooddlllooorrrdddd.”
“Ohhoohhhohohoohhhhhhhhhhhhhh”
What a crazy dream, he thought, wiping his mouth with a drowsy backhand .He grimaced that his pillow got damp from the overnight mouth leakage.
He wondered if he was the only person up, or if he needed to implore his mother to start the car for him once again. Either way, he knew no rest on his reform plans, looking at his favorite, charismatic wrestler pinned from across his wall.
When he got sick of stretching and thinking, he rolled off the bed. “Plunk”.
There, he fell asleep and he had to get to school at eight o’clock , right when Mrs. Everstein had to go to work.
"See ya hon." She waved to her husband who bolted out the door.
"…Okay. Jonathan, where’s your brother?” Mrs. Everstein suddenly re-membered.
Jonathan answered, eyes entranced to the folly of morning cartoons. “The dumb or misguided one?”
Mrs. Everstein was far from amused. “Jonathan...especially now, you are not being cute. You saw Adrian go to the bathroom a while ago.”
Knowing who she was talking about now, Jonathan slyly leaned back on the couch and eyed her with his fake charm.
“Mom, don’t worry. He stalls everyday adoring his favorite wrestler like he’s going to propose to him.”
Rolling her eyes, she poked at the power button on the T.V.
“Mom…” Jonathan pleaded, trying to gain possession of the power button on the 36 inch T.V. Quick reflexes as his, she blocked it with her long fingernails and ‘an invisible broomstick in hand in samurai warrior stance’ that never ceased in its work.
“The Precious Swords is on!” He whined through a full toothed smile. “You can not end the season finale!" He whined.
"Please!”
No, and get your shoes on. We’re wasting precious time!” She ordered him, slinging on her bag in the middle of the stairway.
“DAAAARREENNN!!!!! IT’S NO TIME FOR FUN AND GAMES! BY THE TIME YOU GET UP, WE’LL BE GONE!” She shouted at the summit of her lungs.
The smell of French toast burning served as the aroma, but Darren’s nose was impervious.
“What’s the deal with this boy and his siest—”
Before she could finish, a hastened Adrian skipped the fast breaking portion of the morning and sprinted to his car.
“See you later guys.” He said, an arm nearly colliding with the top of Mrs. Everstein’s forehead.
“Whoa, Adrian…about took my head off! Hey wait for your brother!”
“Mom, you’re taking him!” He yelled from the garage.
Darren finished the last set of winning poses right in front of his wrestling idol right before he took a seat, about to doze off again. Despite the situation, he was as oblivious as if he was under the knife of a plastic surgeon.
The woman sighed, noticing that one of the kids didn’t head off to the bus stop and only one was left in the house.
“Okay, Evelyn? We can’t play this game.”
“I'm in here, mommy.” A monotone, quiet voice was heard in the compartment where they washed and dried clothes. She flung the charcoaled toast like a Frisbee in the trash.
“Evelyn! We are behind schedule and we need to go drop you off.” She megaphoned through the laundry chamber.
She slowly opened the door and let out a tear.
“I don’t want to go! I’m scared.”
Mrs. Everstein understood, but she rushed them in the garage, put-ting an arm over her. Even Jonathan felt a little remorse for her. She nearly felt her vision blur, reaching a hand for her soft face.
“I know, honey, but today’s too much of a big day for you. There is no way we can hide away from it. “It’s a very big day.” She nestled close to kiss her cheek, and properly adjusted her pink splattered Barbie book bag that Evelyn was almost going to fling against the floor as protest.
“Not that big.” She said solemnly, looking up.
“Evelyn, be strong for me.You will survive.” Her mother sighed, opening the door to the garage.
“Wait you two.” she instructed them, rushing back to the foot of the stairs.
“DARREN, YOU SEE THAT BIG BUILDING OUT YOUR WINDOW? IF IN ONE AND A HALF MINUTES YOU’RE NOT READY, THAT’S WHERE YOU’LL BE RIDING YOUR BIKE TO UNLESS YOU CAN HITCHHIKE!”
The engine roared within the house. An empty box hit the rear of the minivan, and the awake, flabbergasted Rip Van Winkle knew how screwed he was.
Zooming down the stairs in his music adorned pajamas, Darren saw that they were already in the driveway. His mother waved farewell, the kids in the car laughingat him.
“This……sucks.”
Astounded at the fact that the only source of information regarding where his school was already it the road to drop of his siblings, he stood lifeless in the garage, hoping that this was the ending portion of his dream.
“Man, I shouldn’t have slept too long!” He lamented as he pressed the garage door opener and sluggishly crept up the stairs. "This woman can not be my mom!"
After he took a brief soak in the shower, Darren looked out the bath-room window and could see a large building many school buses and a massive parking lot.
It looked to be a bustling high school, the lofty flag marking his destination.
He sighed, full of that reality of stinking up the school. He didn’t want to walk down the road like a frizzy haired, yellow toothed hitch-hiker baring his thumb tirelessly during the duration of his first classwith bypassers screaming "GO BACK TO KANSAS!".
Darren whisked the door of his room loaded with AC/DC and REO Speed wagon posters and a large poster of that brawny African American with a wide afro taped on his door, with the label ‘ALFONSO BROWN, SOVEREIGNER OF THE UWA! NO ONE CAN TAKE ME DOWN WITHOUT ME WINNING!’
Darren kept that as his attitude, springing off his bed to body slam himself ontoa mess closet. He swam through heaps of garments, picking out his tan and green striped polo shirt and a pair of green cargo pants.
Weaving through his shirt and slipping on the cargo pants, he jogged down the stairs and fetched a banana from a homemade basket and then hopped on his teal and silver bike to hopefully end his dilemma.
The brisk warm weather seemed to make it good for Darren’s first day, giving him time to relax with anticipation. Doing a standing pedal, he rode past Kendra’s sprawling abode, and journeyed on the sidewalk. A blazing silver car whizzed by, his rider stance slightly amiss from the sound and the velocity.
Each tread of his bike just continued to escalate his confidence. A boy on a cool fifteen speed bike, wind and slope all for him and high hopes, everything was irresistible.
Then, he got tired and stopped to walk his bike, a tedious task it be-came, eyeing his which was that red dot of a stop sign a thousand miles away.
“Whew. Man.” He wheezed out loud, within the rare moments a car would slow down as if to give the boy a ride but only to the condensing traffic half a mile ahead.
His spirit wouldn’t cease to give fire of his anticipation of a new school accommodating a social reformer, despite how his muscles felt like concrete.
“Here we go.” Darren said, firmly placing the front tire to the metal bars, and as he did the recognition of the Holy Trinity in light speed, he walked in expecting the least of Oarsman.

Adam & Co.

Having devoted to memory his locker combination and his classes he got from his old mailbox in his old home, he walked down the hallway with a steady first day of school stride. His game plan was trying to derive a picturesque view of the inside of the school as to avoid getting nervous going there consecutive weekdays. However, Darren thought of it as a theater, where anything can happen and was open for everybody to see.
However, it seemed like it was intermission, but all the actors were out on stage. There were kids hanging around lockers talking about vari-ous things, one teacher discussing to other teacher compelling views of their migraines and their rough schedule.
Locker 456 glistened on the steel exterior telling him ‘you’re safe here’. Darren eagerly spun a quick 5-19-36 to open up his locker, and stuffed his bag in it, holding the top of the bag to suspend it on the hook.
Doing that with no problems, he had no choice but to uneasily follow the instant flow of the traffic which led to the cafeteria, the intersection.
So he eased on down the highway, carefully cautious of all the de-tails of this multi-leveled place—like the posters that regarded students to ‘It’s gotta be cool, everyone’s in this pool, so jump into school!’, showing a teenager who decides to jump into a pool of papers—students and teachers, and a diploma at the opposite end of the pool, ‘Just say no’, ‘Do your best’ and all the like.
Managing still to remember not to make any eye contact with any-body on this crazy day, he couldn’t help but to recognize a well-known relative smugly walking down the hall.
“Hey Darren, you meet your woman yet?!” he bellowed, passing by him with an open smile, audible enough for hallway dwellers to hear. The boys that were with him suddenly cackled in laughter as they witnessed Darren’s terror-struck dazed expression.
That was it. That kid would be a stranger from then on.
He wondered how his brother can combine so well in new school air so quickly it was to be disturbing. Looking at him in complete disbelief, Darren just wanted to hide in a trash can until everyone left.
It was the commons.
Teachers and staff were patrolling areas of the purple and light-green painted place—students coming in and out, yet the capacity just rapidly expanding. Taking another step toward the epicenter, the adrena-line instantly surged through his body, knowing that people were eventu-ally going to notice this alien.

*********************************

Visualizing the students in the hallway as paparazzi from the recent episode, Darren came into another environment within an environment right when he glided into the double doorway.
Every table that was there was far from vacant.
There were four hundred faces of miscellaneous proportions flood-ing the surface of the gathering place, and a good number that eyed his figure contributed more itch powder among his nerves. The sign of Adrian was not there, despite the large number, but nevertheless, seeing a cocky, jug headed, blond wouldn’t cure anything.
Suddenly, he heard a high pitched whistle. He faced a dark haired kid graciously signaling him to come take a seat, two empty spots fingering him to the location.
“How are you doin’? Man, you look tense!”
Darren agreed with a tense nod, plopping down to a seat.
"Yeah man, have a seat!" The boy’s face brightened up. “Adam Seville, my friend!”
The four that were sitting with Darren’s new friend all waved at him, yet seeming to not match this one’s spontaneity.
His eye’s glowing, Darren was lit as much as he had, an arm shooting from his thigh.
“Ooh! Yeah, nice, that’s it!”
Darren relaxed with one of his grins, clearing his throat.
“Darren Everstein.” He replied instantly.
“Hm, Everstein! Quite colloquial German! No, Jewish! I like that combo buddy!”
Darren laughed at that thought.
The boy’s long nose flared heartily, stretching out his arms facing away from his face. “Oh, what do I know, and why am I talking names anyway? So where did you come from? There’s a less retarded question for you.”
“Pittsburgh, PA.” Darren nodded, thinking he should sneak into the intercom and blare out all his info so he won’t get s many random stops. “I’m pretty glad I moved here. Glendale Oaks is pretty awesome.”
“You’re telling me!” The boy chuckled. “You guys must be trillion-aires or something if you can afford to live in such a place.” The boy crept closer. “You know this kid will be coming over for Christmas!”
He was already laughing, his hands patting rhythms on his back.
“I’m pretty glad for you man! As far as this crapshack’s concerned, we do get a lot of new people but they scared, especially if they met my sad, loser self.”
Darren chuckled, feeling a little nervous. Talking to new people once again wasn’t as difficult as he figured during his hermit years. How-ever, rehabilitation for a good social life proves arduous to start.
“But hey, don’t worry. You can add me on your buddy list anytime! It would probably do me more good than you, but who knows, pal?” He said, smacking his elbow with glee. “Seriously, you see me, just come on down. I’m always here, and apparently a whole lot of people that want to see my sorry a** make a fool out of myself. Oop! Whoopsies!”
Darren’s grin became a bigger, more elated one. The boy leaned in closer to him.
“That’s Adam for you.” A girl shouted to Darren.
“And I’ll even tell you about anybody in this place if you want, cause the crew that I hang with are like that. We talk about people so much, even my mom! I’m like the ‘gossip’ queen or king—your prefer-ence—and biggest douche-bag too! C’mon! You know what I’m talking about!”
Both of them exploded. Darren liked it finding out there were oth-ers out there that put themselves down, but not in such a way to be proud of their faults.
Kendra!
“And besides, That’s my way of doing things for newcomers like you, cause you’d be lost with such huge linemen out here, like that one guy with his bag o’ chips, he knows what I’m talking about!” He replied, giving him the handshake along with the smooth extension the two put together based on instinct.
“I seek to please unlike my mother’s word! I just can’t control myself!”
“I know how that is.” Darren eyed him, noting how experienced he was about that.
“You’re telling this kid. I cheat on so many people, even my mom!”
He couldn’t believe his ears, but he leaned closer.
“Oh ho, listen. She gets jealous if I hang out at a friend and talk to their parents, and she flipped on me that I happen to just eat dinner there! You eat potato salad and beef stew at Ben and Vince’s without telling me first, while we’re have marinated ham chops? You’re grounded!”
Darren slapped his knee, clenching on to it. This encounter of a person was bounds above in contrast to the old school.
"I’m tired of that woman’s cooking, and plus man, you gotta chill with your other folks out there in order to find out whose food kicks bet-ter a**.” He threw his arms at the air in front of him. “Women these days. Tsk tsk tsk. I’m not going anywhere about my sister!”
Suddenly a lean, formal looking boy launched his seat next to Adam.
“Look at this stud! How have you been, buddy?” He stretched a lengthy arm around his neck.
“Nothing spectacular. I got a new car though.”
“You rich little finch! I can’t even sell my POS for even a bike!”
“Adam, seriously...yours may be a beast, but it’s still something” Eric started, breaking out in another weary smile. “It’s a 95 Impala. Green, for goodness sake.”
“Oh well! Here’s Darren, the new kid! This is H-G-E…hopeless gripe Eric!” The ‘hopeless gripe’ tried his best to stifle his amusement. “Dude, that’s not funny.”
“Well, Adam’s right, dude.” One had commented.
“Oh man!” Adam’s fist covered up his lips. “I’m so sorry. Make fun of my flaming nostrils next time and we’re good!”
Darren grinned at him. “It’s nice to meet you Eric.”
“You too.”
“So.” He put an arm around Darren. “Found any hot little freshman angels in this place yet?”
“I won’t be surprised if Andrea’s picked.” Eric coughed.
Continuing his search, he found the needle in this diverse haystack, hitting him out of the blue. She had the recognizable figure Darren knew right off. It looked like a blond haired girl with a diagonal white and black blouse on, or so he thought. Trusting Adam, he gave him his first assignment.
He asked away, for clarity sake. “Adam, who’s that girl sitting at the end... with the brownish gold hair? And she has a pink, sparkling bag.”
Sticking his head out like an ostrich, he directed his eyes toward Darren’s description.
“Whoo…Gooood God! That's a nice, nice pick, son!” He cocked his eyebrow and rubbed his chin. “That is Kendra Orion.”
“Jackpot.” Darren said to himself.
“Ain’t she sexy.” Adam concluded. “My wet dreams still can’t be stopped because of her—”
“Adam, that’s gross.” The lady on their table stopped him.
He nodded. “You got that right, it’s gross but the truth about us.”
“Oh by the way, I’m Beth” The girl started, done with her three minute tête-à-tête with a boy next to him.
“Ben.” The kid also introduced himself. “How’s it going, man?”
“Darren Everstein and I’m doing pretty good.” he replied nodding, getting used to saying his full name.
“That’s cool, Darren!” The girl grinned.
“Do you guys know about the party she's having?” He continued, hoping that was already common knowledge.
“No way in this world.” Adam spoke up in fervor. “She even got up to talk to your lucky self about that?”
Darren was rapidly looking for words to say.
“I guess so.” he uttered sheepishly, nodding his head. The girls a ta-ble behind Katie giggled, studying the retiring, passive stance Darren sported.
Eric’s thin elbows were pounded on the table creating a sound like boulders. “…Explain this.”
“…she, lives in Glendale Oaks, and as she walked up to me, I almost forgot my name.”
The whole group imploded against the brown surface, Adam wheezing like a mad man.
“Ohh, ohh, oh God, this kid knows her potential! First time veteran right here, guys.”
“You kidding? That is messed up, you gotta admit it.” Ben added. He had that slight, southern accent. Darren thought of him an auctioneer if he had spoken fast enough.
“What a surprise.” The pale faced Eric said lowly.
Each pair of faces on the table exchanged faces with the other.
“So how long has it been since you moved here?” Beth asked quite inquisitively, breaking up the silence.
Darren shrugged. “About two weeks. I think.”
“That’s it.” His eyes looked as if he would make a declaration. “She’s a tramp! I swear to God. That’s it!”
“A little shallow, isn’t it?”
“Already the first day and you’re still talking crap?”
“So, there’s nothing wrong with that!”
Voices went.
Darren instantly felt that tension. He didn’t know what to make of the girl he had been trying to link with over the last few weeks of his shining summer. He continued to listen, setting up a positive, emotional filter from everyone’s voices.
“Let’s see who she claims is going. There’s Kyle, Gary, Danny…”
The girl there scoffed. “It doesn’t matter. Danny’s cooler and less of a jerk than Gary.”
“Anyway, A.J’s posse, Troy’s ghetto…” He could be heard in a huge portion of the room. “It’s outrageous!”
Adam hit the table hard, laughing.
“Troy’s ghetto! C’mon, even you know he’s got more money than you do!”
The boys there agreed with snickers.
“Yeah, you’re lucky to even get lunch money.”
“Get a job and quit relying on your cheap a** parents!”
“Woo, this fool needs to shut his mouth in later life, or else he’d be hitting the casket soon!” Said Adam to Darren, pointing to himself.
“Are you talking about Eric?”
“Nah. Me buddy! I hate threatening people, cause I suck at good comebacks, before I aim them at people’s mother. Oh man, Eric, you gotta forgive—“
“Don’t bother apologizing, Adam. My parents, indeed, are cheap-skates, thank you Ben for mentioning it.”
The flabby, freckle faced boy saluted him with all fingers.
“Like yesterday…my mom made me eat half a block of Ramen because she obeys the serving sizes.”
“You’re telling me!” Adam leaned out his head and arms at the center. “I went to his house and I swear it’s like his family rations food over there! 'Eric, don’t make me whip out the belt if you eat another block of that Hershey bar'! Yeah, that's his dad!”
“I know! Yesterday, my mom bought corn flakes and she was making a big deal about it.” He started, quite annoyed in his look, maybe from also staring at the table’s oaken colors ever since the seven man coalition gathered.
“Your mom makes a big deal about a lot of things, dude.” Ben sighed, arching his back again st the top of his chair to unleash the pops that followed.
“Oh my Gosh, that is disgusting!” His girlfriend squealed.
“She was like, ‘four boxes will last for two weeks and I don’t see why that is not enough! There’s bread and OJ and oatmeal, and your father is on a diet.’ ” Eric put on his best conservative- nagging-mother-on-a-mission accent.
“That has to suck.” Darren interjected, picturing his mother in that stance.
“Yeah.” He made a half smirk. “What a filthy excuse, considering my mom is a lawyer. And my dad eats all of the food anyway, his excuse be-ing that working at a factory—”
“Hold it! My goodness!” Beth shook, her chest flying in such directions, so much that Adam’s head bobbed while he stared among the many others. “Your parents are cheap, okay?”
Darren did see, but reverted back to the clean, new school environ-ment of his mind.
“C’s. Those boobies are C's” The staring one mouthed to them.The boys snickered, Darren laughing louder than anyone else on the table.
“You are so perverted!” That didn’t amuse her, eyes lowering in contempt. “Why don’t you go stare at Claire’s, Adam? I'm not a four cent whore like her!”
“OHHHHH!”
“She won’t care anyway!”
Adam nodded vivaciously. “Yes ma’am. Here’s a woman that knows her rights, gentlemen and lady!”
Beth gave him a slap also.
Keeping to his limits, Darren knew that no where in his mind would he want to tangle with the confines of temperance of an obstinate teen-age girl. One of his worst fears was seeing one snap unleashing her fire that would burn up all of his self-worth.
He let the four to give him a documentary of their characters to help with his upcoming film.