Part TWO of Chapter Eight!

“Are you lost?” Flashman’s voice broke through Seth’s silent panic.
He looked up. Yes. “No,” he clamied.
But he really was. He was confused at the whole structure of the building; it all looked alike. One pod was just like the other. The Language Arts room was always beside the Social Studies room, which was across from the Math room, which was always beside the Health room, which was always vertical from the Science room. In. Every. Pod.
Well, no, except for the one pod that was above the Gym, and the Band room, across from the stage. And, except for the library, above the front office and entryway.
Flashman took Seth’s schedule away from him and looked at it. “Oh, the Art room’s behind the stage on the second floor. Yours is the one on the right, 2D. 3D is on the left,” he smiled helpfully.
But Seth didn’t find it all that encouraging. He was still lost. Where were the stairs, again?
“How ‘bout I walk you?” Flashman offered. “That’s my next class, too.”
Great. “Cool,” Seth managed.
Flashman lead the way up a set of back stairs in a seventh grade pod. Then they took a left down a hallway, and took the second door on the same side.
“New student!” Flashman called, moving a girl much shorter than him out of his way. “Make room!”
They moved to a table in back with four stools, all vacant. “Nobody sits here. Or there, or there,” he said, motioning with a long hand. “I gotta grab my project, so…just sit somewhere.”
Seth sat.
Class started a minute later, after Flashman had sat down a couple stools away from him. An artsy looking teacher with black glasses, looking very ‘Tina Fey’ waltzed freely through the class door fluidly. “Good morning, class,” she sang. “Today we will continue working on our self portraits.”
Flashman raised his hand. “Ms. Teacher, we have a new student.”
“Flashman! Way in the back – Good morning to you,” she said, acknowledging his presence. “Yeah, um, Seth, was it?”
Flashman smiled. “That’s the kid,” he laughed once, hitting Seth on the back lightly.
The teacher walked down the isle between the rows of tables. Kids were working diligently and monotonous. The teacher had a clipboard in her hand and looked as if she was taking roll. She flipped the page on front over the clip, and appeared to search the content of it. “Ah, here we are, Seth Shepherds?”
“Yes Ma’am,” Seth answered, inwardly rolling his eyes. That would be, what? The sixth time today?
The teacher smiled and held out her hand to shake. He took it. “Seth, then. I’m Ms. Colfer. Have you ever taken an art class before, Seth?”
“Yeah…at my old elementary school,” his tried to smile, and failed.
Ms. Colfer withdrew her hand. “Okay, I’m just going to start you off with drawing yourself. I have mirror over here that you can use. Do you think you can do that?”
Seth shrugged. “I don’t know. I suppose.”
“You suppose,” Ms. Colfer echoed walking over to another table and grabbing supplies for him. “You don’t know. Oh! The sadness! The horror! You poor, pathetic young man!”
She dropped the stuff on his workspace. “There you go, Mr. Shepherds.”
“Drama queen,” Flashman muttered.

Half of Chapter 8

8.

Lunch was crowded. There were people at every table, and were no empty spots, so Seth observed. It was a large room, and sound echoed even though there were blocks to prevent that sort of thing.
He went through the lunch line, and paid for a sandwich and milk with the money Sasha had given him that morning.
When he was out, he looked around for Jenn. Maybe she was around somewhere, saving him a spot with her friends. When he didn’t see her, his energy dropped. He wandered aimlessly around the cafeteria hoping he’d see her. Then, “Seth!”
He turned to see Sam and Jenn sitting at a table with a bunch of other kids that he didn’t know. “Hey,” he said.
Jenn scooted over on the bench and patted the seat next to her. “You can sit here,” she said.
He sat where he was told, and conversation started up again. “Is the science test hard?” a boy asked.
Another guy spoke up, “Not if you know the patterns in the Periodic Table. Like, um, atomic number, mass, and a ton of crap like that,” he said, and then pointed at Seth. “Who’s he?” he asked. “Jenn, is he another one of your ‘friends’?”
She looked hard at the boy. “Really, Flashman?” she said sternly.
The kid watched her for a second, and then his eyebrows went up and his mouth opened.
“Oh! Right, right, right,” the boy, Flashman, said, nodding. He was tall, maybe five-foot-five, five-foot-seven, or so, and had big brown eyes behind thick designer glasses. He wore a nice brand of sweater-vest with a collared shirt. His brown hair was cut evenly around his face, skater-style, and brushed to the side.
Jenn took a bite of her pizza. “This nut-ball’s Alex Flashman,” she pointed to the glasses-kid, addressing Seth, then to the other boy who’d asked the original question, “And that’s Chase Witthers. Flashman’s our best computer hack, and Chase provides funds.”
Seth watched her warily behind his dark hair. He spoke quietly, “For what?”
Chase spoke up, “Different things.”
“Revenge, getting even with teachers…,” Flashman counted off his fingers. “Grading systems…”
Jenn laughed once, elbowing Sam. Seth stayed silent as he chewed his sandwich.
“Attention, Eighth Graders!” someone on the mike up front fumed.
“Oh, God, here we go,” Flashman groaned, leaning back on the bench.
“Would you please check the lost and found for any lost items? We are donating all clothing items left over the weekend. I repeat. We are donating all the clothing items left over the weekend. Thank you.”
Everyone exchanged looks until Chase finally broke the silence and laughed. Then the bell rang.