ONE

MANY DIFFERENT CHARACTERS populated the halls of Degrassi Community School. A group of boys with guitars had congregated on the stairs, some jocks were tossing a football in the middle of the hall…some people were chilling by their lockers, finishing up homework. Laughter echoed across the linoleum through corridors clad with club posters, announcement bulletins, and grades posted in classroom windows.

I readjusted my sling-backpack, allowing my eyes to wander. KC chuckled next to me. "Why so serious?" he asked, making himself crack up.

"You're not funny."

My brother rested one of his big hands on my far shoulder and shook me playfully. "Relax, Jordan. What are you worried about?"

"I'm not worried about anything!" I shrugged out of his hold. "It's just a new school and my first day —why are you looking at me like that?!" I socked him and he winced, although his annoying smile returned as he cradled his arm. "Besides, don't go all older sibling on me…we are the same age."

"Fair enough."

The truth was that he was born two minutes before me, and while this fact was blatant on his face, I was grateful he didn't say anything. I am not usually this jittery, but in all honesty it really was only first-day nerves. Although it was a first-day for a lot of things, not only for attending that school.

"Hey KC," greeted some cute, curly-haired, bespectacled girl. Her eyes darted to me and she gave a sweet smile. "Hi, sorry…KC, who's this?"

"Jordan," he began, grabbing my shoulder again. "This is my girlfriend, Claire." I felt both of my eyebrows rise in unison. KC had a girlfriend? Since when? "Claire, this is my sister, Jordan."

"I didn't know you had a sister!" Claire turned to me and offered her hand. "Welcome to Degrassi!"

I shook her hand obligingly, flashing a smile. So KC didn't tell anyone about me. Well, I couldn't blame him. What could he say? Hey, everyone, remember how my parents are in jail and I stole a car and now live in a group home? Guess what. I have a twin who ran when the police tried to detain us and they finally caught her, so now she's going to move into my group home today!

Did any of these people even know our story? I guess I should have asked that question while we walked to school.

"Thanks," I told Claire, giving her hand back. "So, uh…how long have you and KC been together?"

She smiled and her eyes fell on him. "Not too long. But we've been friends for awhile." Her attention was back on me. "What's your locker number? I'm sure we could help you find it."

I opened my mouth to say something but was interrupted. "Hey Claire, KC." An Indian-looking girl appeared next to Claire. "Wait —who are you?"

"Alli," KC began, a wary tone in his voice. "This is Jordan. She's my sister, and she's joining Degrassi."

"Since when do you have a sister?"

"Pleasure to meet you," I cut in before my introduction could be protracted any longer.

Her eyes flicked to mine for the briefest of seconds, but then she looked away and flipped her hair. "Have you guys seen Johnny anywhere?"

"No, I haven't, sorry," said Claire.

This so-called Alli rolled her eyes and strutted off.

"That was Alli," repeated KC as we started walking again, Claire on his other side. "She's…." He didn't need to finish his sentence. I had already grasped that Alli and I would probably not be the best of friends.

We walked in silence for a few steps when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the locker with the numbers 243 on its placard. The three of us veered and KC's girlfriend helped me configure the lock.

"What's your first class?" she asked as I unloaded the brick-like textbooks the principal, whom I was told to call The Shep, had given me earlier that morning.

"She has Media Immersion with us," KC answered for me. I didn't know why he was hovering above me like he was. I told him that if he didn't want to associate with me he didn't have to. We had never been close ever since I had told him I was gay, and that was a couple years ago. Plus we hadn't talked in the six months I was homeless and he was here. But if he wanted to role-play like we were some white-picket fence family, I could care less. I wasn't here to infringe upon his life. I was here because the police said so.

"Claire-bear!"

I turned to investigate the source of the squeal and was confronted by a bubbly blonde hugging KC's girlfriend. Her face was plastered with summer-y makeup and that smile was…disconcertingly happy. I couldn't help myself. "You must be Little Miss Sunshine."

"Haha!" KC forced a laugh and surreptitiously hit me at the same time. "Jenna, meet Jordan. Jordan, Jenna."

"Hi!" This stranger was beaming at me and before I knew it I was being hugged. "Welcome to Degrassi!"

"Thank you." I patted her back so she would let go of me. The Little Miss Sunshine comment didn't seem to have fazed her. "So, uh…when does class start?"

As if they were listening and waiting for their cue, bells chimed throughout the school. The dull roar of teenagers stirred in acknowledgement and suddenly the hallway was a flurry of movement as people headed to their first period.

"Where's Alli?" asked Jenna as we were swept into the current of students

"She went looking for Johnny," Claire answered, a hint of disapproval in her voice. Why, I wondered. Was this Johnny a 'bad boy'? Did Claire realize the two juvenile delinquents she was in step with? My eyes focused on KC only because of my line of thought and I saw that he and Claire were holding hands. Warmness simmered in my chest. That was actually kinda cute. Heterosexual, but cute.

Congestion barred us from the Media Immersion room for a few moments as people coming in from the opposite direction were allotted in first. I spotted the three boys that were playing guitars on the stairs in the line to enter. The black, curly-haired one said farewell to the lanky blonde one and the other, who could have passed uncontested as the relative of KC's friend Alli. Those two guys entered the classroom, followed by the first drop-dead attractive girl I had seen thus far. Her skin was flawlessly tanned, her eyebrows manicured, her hair coifed, her legs showcased by a pair of fashionably-torn jeans. Behind her entered a threesome of ladies, and they were talking so loudly that I gathered their names within a matter of seconds: Manny, Emma, and Liberty. Only then were KC, Jenna, Claire, and I permitted to enter —made to wait because of our niner status, I suppose, although that label wasn't altogether true for me.

I was taking AP English and Composition, a class normally reserved for grade ten and eleven, as well as AP History (grade ten). Plus I was relatively sure the music class I was going to take counted as college credit. And I was in Algebra II and Biology, which could house any amalgamation of grade levels.

KC and his friends took their seats as I approached the teacher, a pink slip of paper in my hand that The Shep told me to show all my instructors. I was just playing by the rules today —it had been awhile since I had been enrolled in a public school.

"Hello there," the middle-aged, friendly guy greeted, taking the proffered sheet. He scanned it over quickly, smiling at me again when he was finished. "Welcome to Degrassi, Miss Guthrie. I assume you're related to Mr. Guthrie over there." The teacher nodded his head in KC's general direction. "I'm Mr. Simpson, by the way. Some of the students call me Snake. You can take a computer anywhere you like."

What was with the faculty having nicknames? "Oh, okay." I smiled before spinning on my heel and surveying the classroom. It was divided into four rows that held five computers each. The first row was filled with the threesome I had seen earlier plus two male students; the second row was occupied by Claire, KC, Jenna, Alli, and Alli's older, male doppelganger (I was proud for being as observant as to deduce their kinship previous to that moment) in that order; in the fourth row sat three admittedly scary-looking thugs, so that left the third row.

I took the only vacant seat in the third row, which was in the dead center. My backpack slid off my shoulder and to the ground as I powered up my computer. To my right sat an obvious couple: both were chunky, red-headed, and plagued by severe facial acne. To my left was a guy dressed in rather formal attire for attending a public school, wearing a collared shirt, tie, and sweater. Beyond him was his sister (I was now feeling more confident in my observation skills for the day), who was very pretty with her crystalline bluish-gray eyes that reminded me of my own.

"Everyone, quiet down," Mr. Simpson said, turning on a TV that was propped into the corner of the classroom via remote.

I guess this school had its TV station that iterated the daily announcements. At the last school I attended, I had been one of the anchors, getting in front of a camera everyday and loving it. I sort of missed Oakdale sometimes…I mean, all of my friends were probably still there…I could hardly remember what having friends felt—

"Don't tell me you find this pathetic attempt at a news broadcast intellectually stimulating," murmured the boy with caterpillar-eyebrows to my left. He was smirking at me, leaning into my personal bubble. The smell of undeniable male wafted into my nostrils, making me gag. I tried to will him away with my eyes, but he was not to be deterred, so I poked him in the chest to actually move him. "Ouch," he said, grinning as he rubbed the area I jabbed him in. "No need to get physical."

Eww! Oh my god, eww. That's so fricken revolting. His charming façade was entirely ineffective on me, but apparently he couldn't see the disgust that must have been my face. "Thanks, but no thanks," was all I said as I turned by attention back to the television show.

"The lady makes a hasty decision," he continued. I could feel that his gaze was still on me. Who would call me a lady? My entire ambiance is androgynous, with short, choppy hair and guy-ish apparel. The boy seemed to have mind-reading powers. "Maybe 'lady' isn't the most appropriate interchangeable noun, hmm? But who says that tomboys aren't sexy?"

Eww. He said 'sexy'. Shivers raced up my back, making me gag. "Okay, Gent, hear me out: I'm gay. I do not find you attractive in any sense of the word. You need to stop it because you are freaking the crap out of me." I made eye contact to make my point, being matched by his astonished eyes.

"You are?"

Was he blind? I gestured at my outfit and even pointed out the sweatband on my right wrist, which bore a rainbow triangle with Love is Love written across the sides and two female symbols entwined, two male symbols entwined, and the heterosexual equivalent on each corner. The accessory seemed to confound him more…his expression showcased only bewilderment.

"But you're beautiful!" I scoffed at this comment as Mr. Simpson turned the TV off. "I mean it, you're indisputably beautiful!"

"How shallow can you be?!" I demanded. "Looks have nothing to do with sexual orientation!"

My arguing opponent realized that he had the undivided attention of his cohorts so he fell quiet, but being the object of our classmate's stares did not dissuade me. I opened my mouth to continue blaring at this boy, but I saw KC's pleading look and my activist's passion dimmed enough so that I could take my seat again. At some point within the verbal exchange I must have stood up.

"Declan, Jordan…can we get to class now please?"

I flicked my hand in Mr. Simpson's direction to signal him to continue, double-clicking the Internet and logging onto Degrassi's website, seeing as that was what every nearby monitor was displaying. Declan, or so Mr. Simpson named him, was smart to not press me any farther. I wouldn't want any decapitations on my first day.

Another bell chimed and all at once people were packing up and leaving. Mr. Simpson's class had been about how company's utilized pop-ups for advertising purposes, and the next day we were destined to discuss the different types of pop-pops.

I logged off of all of my computer's processes, as instructed. I spun in the rotating chair and stooped to get my things only to discover an expanse of linoleum where my backpack was supposed to be.

"Looking for this?" Declan rose the sling of my backpack so that it dangled in my face. I snatched it away from him, now freshly irked. "Hey, no need to get feisty," he continued, following me as I joined the line to get out. KC and company had already been freed. I was torn as to whether or not I was hoping he was waiting for me and was planning on walking me to my next class. A heavy hand fell onto my shoulder.

"Can you do me a favor?" I asked, spinning around and getting in his face. "Can you just not touch me? You're creepy enough without being all touchy-feely."

He raised his hands in mock surrender. "Duly noted —I'll keep my hands to myself." I sighed in exasperation, satisfied, and began to march into the hallway. Just when I thought he'd decided to leave me be, I heard that forced, velvety voice again. "Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so…"

"Aggressive? Invasive?"

He smiled a genuine smile that I actually liked, putting his hands in his khaki pants. "I was going to say forward," he said, leaning against the wall of lockers as we reached mine. He watched me shamelessly as I managed to unlock my lock on my third try.

"Don't you have a locker of your own to scurry off to?"

Declan flashed me his teeth, but this was one of his fake-charm smirks as he tapped the metal door he had been leaning on. "Right here. We're neighbors."

I fished out my English tome. "Joy to the world."

"Ah," he said, opening his own locker as I closed mine. "AP English and Composition with Ms. Kwan." Another cheesy smile. "Me too."

Alright. What did this Declan guy want? At first he was just flirting with the new kid… okay, fine, acceptable. Then the new kid told him off for being so damn persistent, including outing herself, which wasn't exactly planned but would've happened eventually (for the life of me I do not understand why people stay in the closet —it's majorly claustrophobic in there). Then he insinuated that all gay people are ugly, or at least lesbians. And then the new kid blew up at him. So now he's pretty much stalking said new kid. Why?

"May I walk you to class?"

Oh my. Today was the wrong day. Normally I would shrug this guy off or maybe even make friends with him, but too much was riding on today! I was supposed to make nice with my brother, seeing as we were going to be living together again. I had to assimilate myself into a new school —not an easy task on the best of days. And afterwards, I would have to assimilate myself into a group home and get reacquainted with domestic life. And if I didn't? I get to spend the next year and a half in juvy. Wrong day, Declan.

But I didn't use the words that were waiting so eagerly on the tip of my tongue. Instead, wordlessly, I opened my locker for the second time, grabbed a not-so-inconspicuous sticker and slapped it on my door.

Declan took a moment to read it. It was a bumper sticker I had received from one of my friends in Oakdale's LGBT group, which seemed like forever and a half ago. "We're here, we're queer," I read aloud, tapping the phrase affectionately. "I'm gay."

His previously inscrutable expression morphed into one of his authentic smiles as he chuckled lightly. "I know. I get it, Jordan. This isn't me courting you. This is me trying to make friends."

I felt my eyebrows rise. Oh. Now I felt kinda bad. "Well you must not do the latter too often for it to be as similar to the former as it is." My reply in it of itself was a test to see how compatible Declan and I were as friends.

He smiled. "Touché." Declan took my book of out my hands and shut his locker with his foot. "May I walk you to class?" he asked, tarrying for my answer. The five-minute bell rang.

"Fine, fine. Lead the way, Gent."

Declan smiled again, and I was happy because it seemed that he had abandoned his endearing-smile-in-a-can routine.

We traversed the bustling hallways, and I was unceremoniously shoved and elbowed and stepped on more than twice. Declan, on the other hand, stood tall and walked effortlessly. It occurred to me a guy that practiced with the idiosyncrasies of social interaction must be fairly high on the ladder of Degrassi hierarchy. And here I was, trailing behind him, nothing but a faceless niner.

This was not working for me. Hopefully after my life had achieved some sort of semblance of normalcy I could break out of my shell and show this school who I really was. That is, when I'm not so uptight and antsy.