Kendall walked over to the bed in the farthest corner, which looked like it was just pushed in their for convenience (and to save space). It was a tight squish, seeing as James and the other two had more space to, you know, breathe!
"How the hell did they manage to fit four beds in here? The room's big, but not that big!" Kendall said, exasperated.
"You'll have to get used to it! One of my roommates doesn't do well to change?" James replied with a smirk.
"What do you mean?" Kendall questioned, seriously pondering about whether or not he was about to be dorming with freaks.
"Basically, touch his stuff and you're fucking dead - literally ." James said in between laughs.
"Woah," Kendall was shocked, he understands not wanting people to touch your stuff (whenever any of his family - especially his father - even touched his video games, World War Three was begun) but literally killing someone...was this guy nuts?
"What's his deal?" Kendall asked James.
"You can ask him when he gets back in about five minutes, he's on a free period right now." James informed Kendall.
"What about you? Are you on a free period?" Kendall inquired.
"Wow, someone's got a lot of questions," James replied in a sarcastic voice.
"But the answer is 'no'- I'm supposed to be seeing Mrs Cartwright today and
no way in hell am I seeing her!"
"Who's Mrs Cartwright?" Kendall said, asking even more questions.
"Dude, did you not read up on this place? Mrs Cartwright is the school's therapist - who every fricking student has to see; we need to talk about our 'problems'." James mimicked Mrs Cartwright's voice.
So not only did his father send him to a place full of nutcases, he was also being made to see a therapist . Kendall's brain was in order - nothing wrong here! He just happened to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time and hanging around with the wrong crowd. Why was he the only one being made to go to reform school? Why aren't the others - who abandoned him, and made him take the blame for the whole thing - not seeing a therapist?
"You do not want to see a therapist, do you?" James stated, chuckling.
"Really? How did you guess?" Kendall replied, using his usual sarcastic tone.
"Just by how your face got all pissy when I mentioned the word: 'therapist' - and look there it goes again!" James laughed at Kendall's annoyed face, while Kendall tried to act nonchalant.
Kendall seized to reply to James, because sometimes the dude could be a serious asshat! Kendall started to unzip his duffel bag, to see what his mother had packed him: a few pyjamas; sun tan lotion; slippers; sneakers and an old flip phone - "just in case you miss me and want to hear my voice!" his mother said, in her chirpy voice.
"Wow is that the new iPhone?" James asked, mocking Kendall's - shit - phone.
"Haha, very funny ." Kendall replied, not in the mood for joking. Along with sending him here, his dad had also taken away his iPhone saying: "You want to go out with hooligans? You want to disgrace this family? Go ahead and do that, but don't expect me to fund for anything of your flash things!" His dad could be a real douche-canoe when he was angry.
knock, knock, knock
"Open up, dude!" someone shouted from behind the door.
"Let's meet your new roommates!" James said with a smile.
James walked over to the door and opened it up, making one Latino boy fall in because he was leaning on it.
"Dude, what the hell?" the Latino boy asked. "Are you trying to kill me?"
"If I was trying to kill you," James answered, in a smooth voice. "I would've done it long ago."
"Point taken." the Latino boy said with a shrug.
"Have you two stopped being idiots now? Is it safe for me to come in?"
someone shouted from outside the door - the voice was familiar to Kendall.
"Yeah, we're finished." the Latino shouted back.
Logan Mitchell then strode into the room, the first to notice Kendall's presence.
" I knew I'd see you around!" Logan said, laughing. "I guess you'll be dorming with me and these two loons." Logan continued, signalling James and the still unknown Latino with his head. "Also, seeing as this one," again pointing at the Latino. "Was to busy acting like an idiot - he's yet to introduce himself!"
"Oh, hi!" the boy replied, as if finally realising Kendall's existence. "I'm Carlos Garcia, and I'm guessing you're the roommate Mr Restler has been threatening us with."
"Yeah, sorry about that, I'm going to speak to Mrs Carter about it. I don't really think there's enough room for four." Kendall told the four of them, who replied by just staring at him as if he was dumb.
"You do know why they've put you in this room, right?" asked Carlos, breaking the silence. "They don't just put us in a dorm away from everybody else just by chance! We're Class As."
"Class A?" Kendall asked, worried about what that phrase entailed.
"You know," Logan said slowly, continuing. "Someone who's in need of special attention - like a Class A drug, something that an cause the most damage. That's what we are: Class A drugs."
"At this school," James followed on. "There's a certain level of trust for each class: A, B and C. Class As are - us, only us four - are not allowed to roam freely, we have to follow a strict timetable (but if you're like me, you'll break it sometimes). Then there's Class B who aren't as bad us, but still need to be watched - their dorms are close to the staff rooms and teacher dorms. And Class C are the unsupervised ones, who are allowed to have a later curfew and roam freely - their dorms are in the attic."
"Roam freely?" Kendall inquired, shocked by the overload of information. "Are we like animals in here?"
"Pretty much," Carlos quipped. "But we're the only animals who aren't allowed out!"
"What do you mean?" Kendall asked, going back to the phase of asking so many questions.
"Others are allowed to go out - we're not! Too much of a risk." James replied, briskly, tired of the subject.
"So what did you guys even do to end up in a place like this?" Kendall questioned, not even bothering to notice James's annoyed tone.
"Me, well some guy wrote in my new History textbook...let's just say he didn't leave the hospital looking pretty." Logan said, the first to speak up. "Word of advice: don't touch my stuff!" Logan continued, sneering sadistically.
Kendall was shocked, Logan seemed all put together and not crazy! If he beat up a guy for writing in his textbook, who knew what else he was capable of?
"And you?" Kendall asked, not wanting to know and wanting to know at the same time.
"Stole some stuff to pay for cocaine." Carlos replied, acting as if it were normal - maybe it was normal for him.
Kendall was surprised, maybe he did fit in with these people after all.