It's Good to be Back

Ciel* · #1

(*Edited. It looks so much better now that I've thought it through. Heh...*)

Wow... this place hasn't changed one bit...

The boy adjusted the crooked frame of his glasses, bending them back so they could fit perfectly on his face. How in the hell they got crooked in the first place was beyond him. He had just fixed them while he was walking over to school, and to his memory, there were no drunken hobos looking for a fight. Of course, that was rare in itself, especially if you live in the classy cul-de-sacs of Highland Beach. The brunette was unsure if there were ANY hobos setting up camp in the slums of Highland Beach, because... he's never even been near the general store overlooking Clifton Court(I can't believe I remembered that name after all this time, and I almost forgot the name of my high school...)

Brad Kavanagh was not who you could consider as a prep by any means of the word. Sure, he lived in the Oceanview Terrace where many preps called home, and his parents were rather wealthy in his own eyes. It's hard now to imagine how someone like Brad being a geek, since his body was built like a lightweight boxers. A while back, however, Brad was the nerd of nerds. His glasses were thick, and his shirts always had a pocket protector somewhere on them. The only thing he needed was the large bucktooth, and he'd be set.

From video games and manga to the Chess and Newspaper clubs, Brad was like a carbon-copy of all the stereotypes surrounding nerds. It didn't help matters when you're a nerd AND a honor student. With that type of reputation, bad karma from other students usually follows. Brad has gotten so used to all the hate, name calling and harassment that it he just became used to it. He wouldn't flinch, cower in fear or any of that, but instead he acted as if nothing even happened. Whatever insult This pissed off most of the bullies who were making Brad the blunt of their jokes, and would just storm off. This technique almost always worked, and rarely ever led to actual violence.

The boy slowly sat down on a nearby bench, crossing his legs as he drops his bookbag next to him. His hand moved to brush his brown hair out of his eyes, then slips his thing glasses off of his nose. Did that black eye go away? he thought to himself. He pressed his palm against the bruised area of his eye, and suddenly pulled his hand back, wincing in pain. Shit! I would... hazard to guess that it's still there... I wish prison had mirrors. It would be so much helpful.

Brad sighed softly, laying his head back slowly. Jesus... stop getting so worked up... you're still just a normal Chess club nerd from California. You're the same Brad Kavanagh that you've always been, completely unchanged. Well, maybe I've changed a little, but just.... tougher.... After a minute in denial, Brad just looked down and growled. Not only did he have a black left eye, but a rather small but noticable scar was scratched across the other(a reminder to him that he shouldn't piss off the guy with a shard of glass). Aww, fuck it... I have changed. It's all thanks to that shit I had to go through. Then again, who could blame me for changing? I mean, prison isn't the place for the smartass nerd I used to be. I just... had to change...

Now that he thought more about how much he's changed. Everyone remebers Brad Kavanagh for being a hopeless nerd, but now he's almost as built up as a football player. How will the other kids react? The worst thing that could happen is that everyone avoids him. He's too tough to relate to his fellow nerds, yet all the other kids wouldn't want to get close to THE Brad Kavanagh, who was as big of nerd as one could become. Brad just shrugged, assuming he's making too much of a big thing of this.

He slowly looked down at his schoolbag, and opened it up slowly. Normally his bookbad would be full of books, but that wasn't the case today. He was just released from jail the day before, and he didn't exactly have much time to gather all his things. In fact, the only things in the bag itself were the items

he had on him when he was put in jail: A notebook and an extra pair of glasses. Brad sighed loudly, closing his eyes again. Perfect. Two of the most useful items in the whole goddamned world. JUST PERFECT. I don't even have a pencil for the notebook....

There was something else that Brad had, though. He put his hand into the pocket of his jeans, taking out a homemade switchblade. It had a small blade, but rather sharp and lethal if used properly. Oh, wow... I keep forgetting that I had this on me. Brad closed the blade back up, a smirk crossing his face. The possession of switchblades were legal in California, but Brad wasn't too sure if he could open it up in public. He put it back into his pocket quickly, and then got up. He threw his bookbag on his back, scanning the Campus again, making sure if anyone saw him with his blade out. Brad turned to the entrance of Southridge, a sly grin crossing his face. He decided that he'll just wander around some more, just to see if he'll find any of his friends from way when. Besides, he wasn't too excited about going to classes on the first day he was released from jail.

All in all, Brad thought to himself as he walked into the high school, It's good to be back in Southridge.

((Continued in Give me a 'P'!))