By the time the lunch bell rang, Dylan had decided that he had rather enjoyed the block schedule. His last school had all seven classes daily. At the Academy, though, they had four classes a day and their classes were twice a week. The last day of the week was for specific clubs, sports teams, make up labs, tests, or whatever else teachers wanted to do.
Dylan had met several of the varsity players and immediately decided that trying out for the wrestling team would probably land him on the C-team. He could definitely make varsity for track and handball, and he probably even had a chance at a few other sports, depending on if the seasons conflicted.
“Mr. Jones.”
Blue eyes blinked in surprise and Dylan looked around, trying to figure out which teacher he had managed to annoy on the first day. To his confusion, the teacher was not talking to him, but rather his cousin. Howell looked penitent, almost.
“How many times, do you need to be reminded about the dress code?” the teacher demanded as she pointed at the offending multi-colored hair. “Do you want detention that badly?”
“No, Ms. Fredricks,” Howell said meekly.
“This is the only warning you’re getting this year,” the teacher snapped. “Your hair better be a normal color by tomorrow.”
The teacher stormed off, leaving no actual threat hanging in the air. The idea that his cousin got detention would have normally completely intrigued Dylan. Howell tended to be a good, smart kid who followed the rules. What really was interesting, though, was that Dylan knew for a fact that Jones was not Howell’s last name. After all, Dylan was the one who had first suggested that Howell go by his last name.
“Wow, Howie,” a tall red-head said as she rested her arms on Howell’s gelled hair. “I think you just broke my record on pissing off Ms. Fred. It’s only the first day.”
“I don’t know if it counts, Amb,” a boy with a puzzle box said. “She didn’t actually threaten detention. Anyway, we all have history next so we were thinking of just hanging out in Salad’s room for lunch.”
“I thought the history teacher was Salazar,” Dylan interrupted.
The red-head was almost eye-level with Dylan, which was definitely tall for a girl, and her green eyes seemed to be sizing him up. Howell’s ears were a little red as he pushed Amb’s arms off him and realized he needed to do some introductions. The puzzle box boy only looked up with the vague interest of wondering if there would be a fight.
“It is Salazar,” Howell explained. “Salad’s just a nickname. And Dylan, this is Amber and Jordan. Guys, this is my cousin Dylan. He also has history with us.”
“Let’s go,” she ordered. “Cal and Shelly are already there.”
Dylan followed, semi-amused as his cousin tried to free his jacket but also annoyed with how the girl was acting. The classroom they went to was on the fourth floor of the school, and Amber had stopped dragging Howell and instead dragged Jordan who kept stopping to work on his puzzle. Inside the room were two girls. One was that blond, Callie, and the other was an incredibly hot, dark haired girl who must have been Shelly.
“Found him,” Amber announced. “Freddie’s already hounding him about his hair. Oh, and the new kid is his cousin, Dylie.”
“Dylan,” the teen corrected.
Shelly just shrugged and went back to the data book she was reading, taping the screen to highlight and occasionally scribbling notes on the screen’s margins. Her hair was a brown that was so dark it was nearly black, but as she ran her fingers through it Dylan could see that the underside of her hair was bleached to nearly white. Shelly did not even look up when Amber snatched up the dark-haired girl’s bag and began rummaging through it.
“Main pocket,” Shelly said. “It’s a salad wrap of some sort.”
Amber pulled out the blue plastic lunch box while Callie pulled out a little box of homemade cookies. Dylan blinked in surprise as the group arranged the desks in a circle and handed food out like a potluck, except only Shelly and Callie brought food. Amber had sighed dramatically, but still gave Dylan the extra salad wrap.
“Do you guys do this every lunch?” Dylan wondered.
“Howell never bringing lunch annoyed the girls,” Jordan
“Just as much as you forgetting to eat,” Amber snapped as she pulled the puzzle out of Jordan
“That reminds me,” Dylan said, digging into his bag. “You dropped your book.”
Callie blushed, something she seemed to do easily, and graciously took the book back. He would have thought his cousin’s friends would have been a total nerd patrol, but that did not seem to be the case as Dylan studied the group. As soon as Shelly closed her data book, the gang started lunch.
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