School Rules and I Drool Like a Llama?Mature

I walk to the corner of the street and wait for my bus to arrive. To prepare for this, I take out a football helmet and some padding and quickly apply the items to my body. After I'm completely armored, I pray to God for my safety and well-being. Finally, I slide my body behind the stop sign for an extra step of security, not that it mattered much with my bus.

HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK!

That horn. The horn that would haunt my nightmares every night since I entered high school. The horn comes from the bus that takes me to school every weekday morning. This bus driver in particular, who everyone simply addresses as "The Driver," is about as old as the full-grown tree in my front yard. He means well and is one of the nicest people I know, but I'm certain he's almost 100% blind. His driving makes this apparent.

The bus wrecklessly makes its way to the bus stop, shifting back and forth uncontrollably within the confines of the street. It finally skids to a stop, facing sideways to the angle of the corner of the street, smoke steaming from the ran-out tires. The door opens and The Driver smiles at me.

"Good morning, son, I like that watermelon on your head!" He says with a grin.

"Thanks..." I mutter to him nervously.

"Well, quick drooling like a llama and get on the bus! We got three more stops to go to."

Quit drooling like a llama?

With extreme hesitation, I make my way onto the almost leaning bus and scan the available seats. I see a completely empty spot near the back of the bus and make my way to it. The very moment I sit down, the bus spurs to life again. I quickly get into the fetal position within my seat to prevent my predetermined death. The bus swerves and skids to get into a straight position on the road, then The Driver floors it, the bus traveling at max speed to reach its next destination.

As I lay there, bumping up and down and sliding back and forth in my seat, I can't help but overhear some of the conversations my fellow classmates are having during the ride. Some people are talking about a rumor they heard that my History teacher, Mrs. Harrisson, is having an affair with a student. I also hear a couple girls talking about their period. Eww. And... what's that sound? Is someone fighting on the bus? I look up above my seat to see two male students literally pounding each other in the face with bricks. Both of their faces are bleeding profusely and my fear of the bus escalated to a point in which I believed never existed.

How have I survived high school up to this point?

After another death-defying twelve minutes of bus riding time, we finally arrive at my high school, which is curiously named "James Bond High School." I have no idea why the school faculty decided to name the school off of a fictional character, but it's not for me to judge, maybe he was just that inspirational to the person who founded this school. After a quick inspection of my body, I take off my protective equipment, hop off the bus, and make my way to the front doors.

I enter the school to the sight of a couple of jocks giving a couple nerds wedgies. An interesting view to start off my school day, I shadily avoid the commotion and walk to my locker. I don't necessarily belong to any school clique, but my only friend is a huge gamer, so I suppose that makes me a gamer to some degree. I'm not normally picked on by anybody, I'm just ignored, which is fine by me. Everyone here is too obnoxious and annoying, including the teachers. There are a certain few that don't make me want to kill myself everyday, which is why I haven't gone crazy yet.

There's Gus, whom I mentioned before as a huge gamer, someone I met last year during a field trip to our local grocery store (yes, you read that right). And Kendra, the girl I actually kinda like, y'know, like like? She's a beautiful girl who's a year ahead of me, participates in sports, popular, long, flowing blonde hair, blue eyes and a cute little overbite. The best part is that she seems normal. She talks about normal things, is interested in normal things, and I haven't heard her mention toilet water once (it's a thing here).

I realize I'm daydreaming when the bell rings to let me know that I'm late for class.

Why me?