Neogen: Chapter 3

Reno Walker was slouched in the back of the class, his dark brown eyes scanning the room with a mixture of anticipation and dread. School was a paradox for Reno - a place that both energized and exhausted him. He loved the social aspect of it, the buzz of conversation, the thrill of making people laugh. But the academics? That was a different story.

He could already feel the familiar knot of anxiety twisting in his stomach. He was a people person, not a bookworm. The thought of another year of struggling to keep up, of feeling like he was always two steps behind, was enough to make him want to bolt from the room.

Just as he was contemplating the merits of playing hooky, a movement at the front of the class caught his attention. Anika Patel, the school's resident overachiever, was sliding into her seat, her posture as straight and perfect as a ballet dancer's. Reno found his gaze drawn to her, his mind flashing back to a dream he'd had.

In his dream, he'd been standing in a vast field, the cool grass beneath his feet, the night sky overhead. Anika had been there too, her face illuminated by a ball of energy that had exploded from the ground. He remembered shouting, "It's going to explode!" just before the world was bathed in a blinding light. And in that moment, Anika's face had lit up with a mixture of fear and awe that had taken his breath away.

Reno shook his head, trying to dispel the memory. It was just a dream, he reminded himself. But as he looked at Anika, her dark hair neatly braided, her brown eyes focused on the front of the class, he couldn't help but think she was cute. Sure, she was a bit stuck-up, always buried in her books and rarely joining in on the fun, but there was something about her that intrigued him.

Reno was popular with the ladies, with a short-cropped afro and warm brown eyes that sparkled with mischief. He had a natural charm that made him popular. He was confident, always ready with a joke or a compliment, his outgoing personality a magnet that drew people to him.

Feeling a sudden surge of boldness, Reno leaned forward, catching Anika's eye. He flashed her a charming smile, his teeth a stark white against his dark skin. "Hey Anika," he called out, his voice smooth as silk. "You tired? 'Cause you've been running through my dreams all night!"

For a moment, Anika looked confused, her brow furrowing as she processed his words. Then, to Reno's surprise, she smiled back at him. It was a small smile, barely more than a twitch of her lips, but it was enough to make Reno's heart skip a beat. Maybe this year wouldn't be so bad after all.

The bell rang, signaling the start of class. Reno watched as Mrs. Castle, a petite woman with a shock of curly red hair and a passion for literature, walked to the front of the room. She was the creative writing teacher, known for her love of storytelling and her ability to inspire even the most reluctant writers.

"Alright, class," she began, her voice carrying a hint of excitement. "Let's start the year off right. I want you all to take out a piece of paper and a pen."

Reno felt a pang of anxiety as he reached into his backpack, his fingers brushing against the cool metal of his pen. He pulled it out, along with a notebook, its pages crisp and untouched.

"I believe the best way to get to know my students is through their writing," Mrs. Castle continued. "So, I'm giving you all twenty minutes to write something about your summer. It can be a story, a poem, or just a few thoughts. The goal here is to express yourself."

Reno's heart pounded in his chest, a wild drumbeat that echoed his rising panic. Writing was not his forte. He was a talker, a performer, not a writer. Words flowed easily from his lips, but when it came to putting them on paper, he felt like he was trying to catch smoke with his bare hands.

He stared at the blank page in front of him, the white expanse seeming to mock him. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. He picked up his pen, his hand trembling slightly, and began to write.

After a few painful minutes writing, he read it over, his heart sinking. The words were a mess, a jumble of thoughts and feelings that made no sense. He could already imagine the look of disappointment on Mrs. Castle's face, the pitying glances from his classmates. He felt a flush of embarrassment heat his cheeks, and he quickly closed his notebook, hiding his failure from prying eyes.

Mrs. Castle's voice cut through Reno's thoughts, pulling him back to the present. "Now," she said, her eyes sparkling with anticipation, "I'd like a few volunteers to share their stories with the class."

Reno could hear the rustle of papers as his classmates prepared to share their stories, their faces glowing with pride and excitement.

One by one, they read their stories, their voices filling the room with tales of summer adventures, family vacations, and personal growth. Each story was more detailed and eloquent than the last, the words flowing effortlessly from their lips. Reno could only sit there, his heart sinking further with each passing second.

He prayed silently, his mind filled with a single desperate plea: Please, don't pick me. He kept his head down, his eyes fixed on his blank notebook, hoping that if he made himself small enough, invisible enough, Mrs. Castle would overlook him.

But fate, it seemed, had other plans. "Reno," Mrs. Castle called, her voice echoing in the silent classroom. "Would you like to share your story with us?"

Reno's heart stopped, his blood turning to ice in his veins. He looked up, his eyes meeting Mrs. Castle's. There was a gentle smile on her face, a look of encouragement that only made him feel worse. He was trapped, caught in the spotlight with nowhere to hide.

He swallowed hard, his throat dry as a desert. He picked up his notebook, his hands shaking as he opened it to the page with his scribbled sentences. He took a deep breath, bracing himself for the humiliation that was sure to come.

Reno stood up, his legs feeling like jelly beneath him. He could feel the eyes of his classmates on him, their gazes heavy and expectant. He cleared his throat, his voice barely more than a whisper as he began to read.

"My summer was... pretty good," he said, his voice shaky but audible. "I hung out with friends and... played a lot of basketball."

The words hung in the air, stark and bare in their simplicity. There were no tales of grand adventures, no poetic descriptions of personal growth. Just a simple, honest account of a summer spent in the company of friends and the joy of a game he loved.

Reno could feel the silence stretching out, a chasm opening up between him and his classmates. He could see the confusion on their faces, the disappointment in their eyes. He had failed to meet their expectations, to deliver a story that was worthy of their attention.

With a heavy heart, he sat down, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. He could hear the whispers starting, the soft rustle of papers as his classmates shifted in their seats. He kept his eyes fixed on his notebook, the page a stark reminder of his failure.

Just as Reno was starting to regain his composure, a deep voice cut through the silence. "What kind of bull crap was that? You look like a moron," Jay, the school's star football player, sneered. At 6 foot 5, he towered over the rest of the students, his muscular frame a testament to countless hours spent in the gym.

Laughter erupted from the class, a cruel, mocking sound that made Reno's stomach churn. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, the sting of humiliation threatening to overwhelm him.

But Reno was not one to back down. He turned to face Jay, his dark eyes meeting the football player's icy blue gaze. "You look like your father would be disappointed," he retorted, his voice steady despite the pounding of his heart. He paused for a moment, letting his words sink in before delivering the final blow. "If he stayed."

The class erupted, a wave of gasps and laughter washing over the room. It was well known that Jay's father had left the family years ago, a painful chapter in the football player's life that he rarely spoke about.

Reno could see the rage flashing in Jay's eyes, the hurt hidden beneath the anger. He knew he had crossed a line, his quick wit and sharp tongue getting him into trouble once again. But as he sat there, the laughter of his classmates ringing in his ears, he couldn't help but feel a small sense of satisfaction. He might not be the best writer, but he knew how to hold his own. And he wasn't about to let anyone make him feel less than he was.

The bell rang, signaling the end of class. Reno quickly gathered his things, slipping out the back of the room before anyone could stop him. As he walked down the hallway, his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. He knew he had to be more careful. Pissing off people like Jay could have serious consequences.

Reno decided to make a quick stop at the bathroom, wanting to make sure he still looked good despite the day's events. He checked his reflection in the mirror, adjusting his hair and smoothing out his shirt. Satisfied, he left the bathroom, his confidence returning.

As he stepped out into the hallway, he walked straight into the towering figure of Jay. The football player's face contorted with anger. "You little crap!" he snarled, his fist flying towards Reno's ribs.

Reno braced himself for the impact, his muscles tensing as he prepared for the pain. But to his surprise, he felt nothing. Instead, there was a sickening crunch, followed by a scream of pain from Jay.

Reno looked down in surprise to see Jay clutching his hand, his face pale with shock. His hand was twisted at an unnatural angle, clearly broken. Jay staggered back, his screams echoing down the hallway as he stumbled towards the school nurse's office.

Reno stood there for a moment, stunned. He felt his ribs, expecting to find them bruised or broken, but there was nothing. No pain, no discomfort, just a sense of surprise and confusion.

He didn't wait around to see what would happen next. Instead, he turned on his heel and walked away as fast as he could, heading for the field door.

As he disappeared down the hallway, a figure emerged from the shadows. Mr. Weber, the school's janitor, watched Reno's retreating figure with a thoughtful expression. He had seen everything, his silent presence unnoticed by the students. With a final glance at the direction Jay had gone, he returned to his duties in silence.