Welcome to High School
The alarm buzzed at exactly 6:30 a.m.
Ethan Parker lay still for a moment, staring at the ceiling as the sound drilled into his ears. Three seconds. Four. Five. Then he reached out and silenced it with a quick slap of his hand.
First day of high school.
The words repeated in his head like a warning siren.
He sat up slowly, already feeling the familiar tightness in his chest. His school uniform hung neatly on the wardrobe door. His mother had ironed it the night before—every crease perfectly straight, every button aligned. Too neat. Too new. Too noticeable.
Downstairs, he could hear the clink of a spoon against a mug.
“Mum’s already up,” he muttered, rubbing his palms against his trousers. They were damp.
By the time he reached the kitchen, she was waiting with a smile that was just a little too bright.
“Big day,” she said gently, sliding a plate of toast toward him.
Ethan nodded and sat down, eyes fixed on the table. He tried to eat, but the toast felt like cardboard in his mouth.
“You don’t have to say anything clever today,” his mum added. “Just get through the doors. That’s enough.”
He gave a small nod. That sounded manageable. Doors were simple. Doors didn’t expect conversation.
Across town, Holly Evans was already standing in front of her mirror.
She leaned closer, inspecting the wing of her eyeliner, then leaned back again. Still uneven. She wiped it away with a groan and tried again.
“First impressions matter,” she told her reflection.
Her bedroom door creaked open. “You’ve been in there forever!” her younger brother called.
“Beauty takes time!” she shot back, grinning.
By the time she finally bounded down the stairs, her energy filled the kitchen before she did.
“Morning!” she sang, grabbing a piece of fruit and kissing her mum on the cheek. “I can’t believe it’s finally high school.”
Her dad chuckled. “Give it a week.”
“Never,” Holly said confidently. “This is going to be amazing.”
And she meant it.
The school gates were already crowded when Ethan arrived.
Voices overlapped. Laughter burst suddenly from different directions. Backpacks bumped into him as students pushed past, forming groups as easily as magnets snapping together.
He slowed his steps.
Too loud. Too fast. Too many faces.
He adjusted the strap of his bag for the third time in a minute and fixed his eyes on the entrance doors. Doors were the objective. Just reach the doors.
“Hey!”
The voice came from his left.
Ethan froze.
A girl about his age jogged up beside him, slightly out of breath but smiling like they were already friends.
“I think we’re in the same year,” she said. “I’m Holly.”
Ethan’s brain scrambled for the right response. Say hello. That’s normal. Just say hello.
But the hallway doors suddenly felt very far away, and the crowd felt closer.
“I—uh—” His throat tightened. The words refused to line up.
Panic flickered.
He nodded quickly, then changed direction and slipped through the nearest entrance without another word.
Behind him, Holly slowed to a stop.
“Oh,” she murmured, watching him disappear into the building. “Okay.”
She didn’t look offended. Just thoughtful.
Then she headed inside too.
