Page 1 of Krash & Bern

“I can’t believe I’m late on my first day of school,” I grumbled to myself as I walked down the empty hallway. The white tiled floor reminded me of a prison hallway. Had I ever been to prison? No. However, it felt like the right way to describe my current situation.

The tumultuous pounding of my heartbeat blurred my vision as my palms began to sweat. The thin layer of sweat annoyed me as I tugged on the straps of my backpack. Today was the first day of school. At the end of my eighth-grade year, I tested out of my freshman and sophomore years and would be starting my junior classes today. I had no friends in the grade, so my nerves were on edge. Well… I didn’t have many friends my age either, but that was neither here nor there.

The design of the junior hallway was confusing. The rooms didn’t go in numerical order, and there were letters beside each number on my schedule. Had I’d gone the traditional route, I would have gotten the tour of the school like every other incoming freshman, but since I’d skipped a few steps, I had to go in blind. I frowned when I finally made it to the English class listed as my homeroom class. The door was open, and I could see the teacher explaining what I assumed to be the syllabus. With timid steps, I entered the room and looked around the unfamiliar space.

Everyone looked at me with curious eyes as I held my schedule out to the teacher. The blonde woman with thick framed glasses read the schedule and smiled. Miranda Donaldson looked young to be a junior English teacher, but she must’ve been qualified. Obviously.

“Welcome, Miss James,” she stated with a kind voice. “This is junior’s English. We look forward to having you around this year.”She grabbed a syllabus from her desk and held it out to me.

“Thank you,” I replied in a squeak of a voice.

“Do you want to introduce yourself?” Mrs. Donaldson asked.

My shoulders lifted into a shrug. “I don’t mind…”

I felt like I didn’t have a choice. If I didn’t introduce myself, it might have caused an even bigger issue to decline than to just speak briefly about myself.

“Let’s give Miss James the floor to introduce herself.” Mrs. Donaldson put all eyes on me. I felt like a mouse in a hungry lion’s den. The sweat on my palms multiplied as I tried to discreetly wipe them on the back pockets of my jeans. I didn’t have to recite a soliloquy, but it dang sure felt like it.

“H-Hi,” I stuttered. I cleared my throat and lifted my head up to feign confidence. “Hi. I’m Bernice. I tested out of two grades at the end of eighth grade, so I’m here now… I don’t know many people in this grade, but if you enjoy anime, manga, and romance novels, I’m your girl!” The confidence in my voice made the words flow effortlessly.

To sum up my character fact sheet, I was an anime-watching nerd who loved to read and play with computers. I was a balance of introverted and extroverted—it all depended on where I was and what I was doing. I wanted to make a new friend today, but I was content with getting through the day under the radar.

“Thank you for the introduction, Miss James. I think the only seat available is in the back of the class next to Mister Williams. Mister Williams, please raise your hand.”

My eyes perused the classroom and zeroed in on the tall, brown-skinned teenager with thick eyebrows. His dark hair was faded on the sides and cut low. He had a tattoo on his neck, which threw me off because, how the heck did they allow the teenager to get a tattoo on his neck? I took my backpack off and made my way over to him. He licked his lips and leaned close to where my desk was. As I set my backpack on the floor beside my desk, he smiled at me. He showed me the perfect white teeth in two rows.

“Yo’ mama really named you Bernice?” he quizzed.

“Yes. I was named after my great grandmother,” I replied.

He nodded. “Type shit. I fuck with it. You gon’ make a mean ass banana puddin’, huh?”

I giggled at his joke. “I don’t know about all that. I don’t like to be in the kitchen. I just show up when they call me to eat.”

“You just like me, for real,” he agreed. “I’m Keyshawn, but everyone calls me Krash.”

“Why do they call you Krash?” I inquired. He’d piqued my interest.

“I’ll tell you one day, just not today.”

“Okay,” I hummed. The more we talked, the more intrigued I became by his mysteriousness.

I pulled out my highlighter and pen. I followed along as Mrs. Donaldson went over important dates and expectations of the class. For the duration of the class, I was focused on Mrs. Donaldson, though I could feel Keyshawn’s eyes on me. When the dismissal bell rang, I gathered my backpack and stood up. Keyshawn slung his backpack over his left shoulder and walked in step with me out the door of the classroom. He smelled better than any boy from middle school ever did. His scent reminded me of my older cousin’s cologne, but it smelled so much better on Keyshawn’s skin. It was manly, attractive, and warm.

“Where are you going next?” he asked.

Glancing at the schedule, I showed him my next class. He smirked.

“That’s right next to my class. I’ll walk with you.”

“No, thank you.” I shook my head to emphasize the decline.

“Why not?” he asked with a frown tugging on his lips.

“I don’t want you to walk me to class and think I have to give you my virginity as a result of your good deed.” I hooked my fingers around my backpack straps and adjusted the heavy thing on my shoulders.

“Bern, there are girls lined up to fuck me. I don’t want that from you… when you’re barely twelve.”

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