Chapter 4

“Mitchell?” called Mr. Nichols.

“Here” the burly football player called from his seat, dead center of the room. His ipod was lazily draped from one ear, and the heavy bass of the rap song we was listening to was audible even from across the room.

Instead of lecturing us on the use of electronic devices in class, like he usually did, Mr. Nichols simply nodded absentmindedly, and proceeded down the attendance list. “Scarlet?”

“Here” responded the girl dressed in all black in the back of the room, sounding utterly bored.

“Where?” Mr. Nichols asked, scanning the room, clearly forgetting which student belonged to the name.

“Um, here…” Scarlet repeated, her expression hinting to her annoyance.

I couldn’t help but feel bad for my English teacher… he’s been flustered and vacant minded for a few weeks now, loosing all sense of charisma and energy. I’m assuming it’s all due to the fact that his wedding band has recently gone missing from his left hand… what was the story there?

“Okay ladies and gentlemen,” Mr. Nichols started once role call was taken. “Last night, your homework was to read chapters 3 – 5 in the ‘Great Gatsby’ and make notes on the character development of Nick Carra-” He was cut off by a quick rapping on the classroom door.

The attention of the entire room averted towards the door to see the school’s slightly pudgy principal standing there expectantly. Mr. Nichols swore quietly under his breath before composing his face and swinging the door open. The two men spoke under the doorframe in hushed tones as the class slowly lost interest. Students took advantage of the interruption and crossed the room to talk with their friends, momentarily ignoring the seating chart.

“Oh I know…” whispered one of the girls next to me to her friend “But who’s the guy in the corner?”

“I think he’s the new kid… the one Mel was talking about at lunch” her friend replied, “I hear he just got out of Juvie…”

I curiously looked at the two girls, following their gazes out into the hall. There, standing awkwardly behind the principal, was the dark haired boy I’d seen on Friday. I suppose I’d been right, he was a new student.

I watched him as he shifted his weight from side to side, looking impatiently at the principal. He rolled his eyes often at the words being exchanged, which made me wonder exactly what the principal was telling my English teacher. Seemingly bored with the ordeal, he glanced over Mr. Nichols shoulder and scanned the classroom. I quickly averted my eyes, for fear of being caught staring & I pretended to search for a page in my notebook.

“Alright everyone, party’s over, go back to your seats” Mr. Nichols ordered. The class collectively groaned as they shuffled back into order. I looked up, seeing the principal gone & the boy standing alone in the doorframe with hesitant eyes and a posture that would make any chiropractor cringe. “As you may have guessed, we have a new student today” Mr. Nichols began monotonously.
Every pair of eyes in the room turned towards the boy, quickly analyzing and scrutinizing while the teacher droned on about how we should be ‘very welcoming’ and the like. I watched him lean against the empty blackboard as every girl in the room was probably rating him on some fabricated datability scale, and every guy was sizing him up as either a possible friend, or possible competition.

He’s quite tall, trumping Mr. Nichols by far. His tousled dark hair fell over his ears, and in front of his eyes. His frame was lean, and hidden behind a simple black hoodie and worn in jeans. His skin was a soft caramel shade, and his expression slowly grew to a scowl. Scrutiny was clearly not boding well with him.

“Go ahead and sit wherever there’s an empty chair Ryan” Mr. Nichols concluded, putting a name to the mystery boy. Ryan nodded and made a beeline for the desk in the back row. Typical. He say down with a huff and never once returned anyone’s glares or even so much as cracked a nervous smile.

“As I was saying before,” Mr. Nichols said, continuing where he left off “You will be split into groups of 4, and given half of the class to compare and contrast your notes on the character development of Nick Carraway” His eyes quickly scanned the room and landed directly on me. “You…” Mr. Nichols struggled with my name

“Parker” I prompted

“Yes, Parker. You are doing quite well in this course, do you mind skipping out on this activity and filling our new student in on the novel we are studying?” he asked with no real opportunity for me to decline.

“Not a problem” I answered politely.