When we finally arrived at school, I already knew I was going to feel like the living-dead throughout the day and would surely drift through my classes in a state of extreme fatigue with a glazed expression on my face. Westlake High perfectly emulated my mood with its dull, stone buildings, cracked windows, and an overgrown football field. Some of the structures appeared as if they would crumble to the ground with a single breath. The whole school looked like a picture out of my history textbook, particularly from the Medieval chapters. As a strong gust of wind ran through the air, I pulled my jacket tighter around my slim body and tugged at my hood so it sufficiently covered my head and hung down, barely above my eyes. Fizzy chuckled at my uncomfortableness, seeing as she never felt the effects of the weather as strongly as I did and would often make fun of me for my lack of tolerance.
“Come on Felix,” she cried abruptly, latching her hands around my arm and tugging me off in the direction of the cafeteria, “If we hurry we can still make it in time to grab a coffee before they’re all gone.” I made a face of disgust at the mention of the school coffee. It tasted like coffee-flavoured water rather than that rich, caffeine flavour that coffee addicts often raved about and never failed to leave my mouth feeling like cardboard.
“I don’t know how you drink that stuff without getting a stomach ache, I doubt it’s fit for consumption,” I point out. Fizzy rolled her eyes, used to my negative outlook, but still continued to drag me along next to her. She had the unusual power of convincing me to step out of my comfort zone, pushing my boundaries and causing me to make decisions that would sometimes behoove me. The pair of us raced down the halls, earning a few perplexed and annoyed glances from onlooking spectators. This was not unusual, seeing how me and Fizzy were often thrown stares of disgust and curiosity. Mostly me, it seemed, but maybe that was because Fizzy was good at ignoring our unkind spectators. As soon as we turned into the familiar long hallway that contained the squat, rectangular Cafeteria the loud, jarring five minute bell rang, disrupting my thoughts and shattering my eardrums.
“I guess my tongue is saved another day, we don’t have enough time to stop for coffee,” I said brightly, turning towards Fizzy with a satisfied smirk plastered on my face. She, however, simply scoffed as if I had suggested going scuba diving in the Atlantic Ocean or some other ridiculous activity.
“Don’t be silly, we’ll just skip class and get something from the vending machine instead.” Fizzy stated this as if it were a fact, like there was no going against her. And there really wasn’t. But I couldn’t skip class again, my parents were already starting to notice my dramatic slip in grades and I had been recently threatened with being transferred to Weathering. Punishments were hard for my parents because I chose not to own a phone, so taking it away was off the table, and I hardly ever went out so they could hardly ground me. Sometimes I wondering what it would be like it I did go to Weathering Academy, just to see what they would try next.
“I’m sorry Fizz, I really just can’t cut anymore school,” I mumbled to the floor, not daring to meet her powerful, controlling eyes. I risked a glance upward and saw her staring at me with such intensity, I had to look down again. “It’s not like I don’t want to hang out with you, I gotta do what’s best for myself sometimes though.” I felt a weight on my shoulder.
“Do you not want to be friends anymore,” Fizzy questioned fiercely, “because that’s what it sounds like.” I shook my head weakly.
“No, of course I want to be friends, you know that,” I said with a sad sigh, “You’re right, of course I’ll skip with you.” Her face lightened up like it was the sun itself, a bright light among the dull atmosphere. Immediately, I became confident in my decision. Anything to keep her from deserting me.