The classroom felt unusually still, almost empty, except for Max, Elliot, and Moses sitting near the back. They glanced at the clock for what seemed like the hundredth time.
Max leaned back in his chair, frowning slightly. "It's like the teacher isn't coming," he muttered, tapping his fingers on the desk.
Elliot shrugged, a lazy smirk on his face. "Yeah… seems like it. Maybe she overslept."
Moses, ever the practical one, leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. "Or maybe she's just running late… or didn't make it to school today."
Max frowned. "Wait… what subject is first anyway?"
Elliot pointed at the timetable pasted on the wall near the door. "Math. First period is math."
Moses nodded. "Then that explains it. She's not here today."
"Why not?" Max asked, curiosity lacing his tone.
Moses smirked slightly. "She's my mother's friend. Mom said she's not feeling well this morning."
Max tilted his head, considering this. "Okay… that makes sense."
A quiet moment passed as the three friends looked around the classroom. The room had already been refreshed over the summer: new desks, brighter fluorescent lights, and freshly painted walls in soft cream with accents of navy blue. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, illuminating dust particles that floated lazily in the air. Outside, the sounds of New York City seeped in—the distant hum of traffic, the occasional siren, and the chatter of students moving along the courtyard.
"So… the timetable's the same as last term?" Moses asked.
Max nodded. "Yeah, everything's in the same order."
Elliot leaned back, folding his arms. "Then what do we do now? Wait around and stare at the ceiling?"
Moses grinned. "We can either play around a bit or talk about what we did during the holidays."
Max's eyes lit up. "Alright… let's play."
Elliot raised an eyebrow. "Wait—you said you wanted to take first in class, right?"
Max smirked. "Who did I say that to?"
Elliot laughed. "To Steven. How are you going to do it if you're busy playing games?"
Max leaned back, one hand behind his head. "I play first. Then I read for ten minutes. Simple."
Elliot raised his hands. "Not bad. That's actually a good way to start the day."
Moses chuckled. "Enough about games… let's talk about your birthday. How are you planning it?"
Max shrugged. "There's not much to say. It's just going to be at my house."
"Even if it's small, tell us," Elliot prodded.
Max leaned forward, grinning. "Fine. Party starts an hour after school. Guests arrive, the party kicks off, anyone bringing gifts gives them, and I'll open them after an hour. Everything ends by six."
Moses tilted his head. "So… four hours in total?"
"Exactly," Max confirmed, smiling.
Just as the three were settling into their discussion, the bell rang, echoing loudly through the school corridors. Students scrambled, some heading to their lockers, others rushing to meet friends, and the hallways were instantly alive with the energy of a new school day.
The next teacher entered—Mrs. Joan, who taught English Studies. The students greeted her in unison, "Good morning, Mrs. Joan!"
"Good morning, everyone. Please sit down," she replied, her voice calm and welcoming.
The students quickly obeyed. Max, Elliot, and Moses pulled out their notebooks, prepared for whatever the first lesson might throw at them. Mrs. Joan had them copy notes from the board, her handwriting precise and neat, every line carefully formed. Max concentrated, letting the steady rhythm of writing calm his nerves.
Then it was Break time but time slipped away, each period passing faster than the last. The Science teacher came next after break. Notes were extensive, assignments detailed, and by the end of it, Max felt the familiar weight of academic rigor—but he didn't mind. He thrived on structure, even on a long, seemingly endless day.
The last subject before lunch was quick—another assignment-heavy period, which is History. Max appreciated the efficiency; it gave him time to organize his thoughts for the rest of the morning. Soon, the bell rang, signaling break, and students flooded into the hallways or rushed to the playground. The courtyard outside was alive with the laughter and chatter of teenagers, the faint smell of the city streets mixing with the aroma of food carts in the distance.
Max, Elliot, and Moses lingered inside, enjoying the quieter space of the classroom. They unpacked small snacks from their bags and began talking casually, the conversation drifting from the holidays to upcoming school events.
The bell for the end of lunch rang abruptly. Students shuffled back inside, the noise fading into a low murmur as Mr. Sam entered the room, introducing himself as their other English teacher. He had a commanding presence, his voice firm but not overbearing. He began the lesson, engaging the students with questions. Max listened attentively, occasionally exchanging glances with Elliot and Moses.
After English came Civic Education. Mr. Thompson, the teacher, instructed them to copy the lesson notes carefully and complete the classwork he assigned. Max worked methodically, the rhythm of writing helping him stay focused while keeping the conversation with his friends alive in whispered exchanges.
"Got it done yet?" Moses asked quietly, glancing over Max's shoulder.
"Almost," Max replied, pen scratching across the page.
Once all students completed their work, they submitted it to the table at the front of the room. Mr. Thompson gave a final nod before stepping out, leaving the students to prepare for the last period.
The last period is the Elective/Clubs but since school just resumed no one has yet to picked a club so they had to end school early.
The sound of the last bell of the day echoed through the hallways. Backpacks were hoisted onto shoulders, sneakers squeaked against polished floors, and laughter and chatter filled the corridors once more. Max, Elliot, and Moses made their way to the front entrance.
As Max stepped outside, he inhaled deeply, the crisp New York air filling his lungs. Cars honked in the streets, the chatter of parents greeting their children filled the sidewalks, and the faint scent of food from nearby food trucks reminded him of home.
He turned to his friends. "Alright… goodbye for now, guys."
Elliot waved, smiling. "See you tomorrow, Max."
Moses grinned. "Don't forget, we've got to discuss strategy for that race competition."
Max chuckled, a sense of contentment settling over him. "I won't forget. See you tomorrow."
With that, Max headed toward his waiting limo, waving one last time before stepping inside. It had been a long, eventful first day at Lincoln High—full of new routines, new teachers, and new opportunities. For the first time since leaving his old life behind, he felt a spark of normalcy, a sense of belonging, and a small but growing excitement for the days to come.