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Chapter 4: School Hunting

“What time is it,” Kris said, waking up to see his brother hovering over him.
“It’s about six-thirty,” he said, looking at the alarm clock, “come on, we have to go look at the schools today, remember?”
“Oh man, that’s right,” he said, pulling his glasses on, and, pushing Jay out of the way, running to the bathroom to take a shower.


“Are we there yet, mom,” came the annoying sound of Jay as the cab driver came to a halt.
“Yep,” she said, relieved to finally stop his bickering. “Here,” she said handing the driver the money, “thanks again,” she said as he drove off.
“So, where’re we,” said a very bored Kris, looking up at the one-floored building.
“We’re at Washington Elementary,” she said proudly, looking down at Jay.
“Don’t tell me your only bringing him here because of the school’s name,” Kris said in an annoyed bored voice.
“Don’t worry,” she said in a reassuring voice, “a school with this name has to be good.”
The first half-hour wasn’t too bad (probably because all they were doing was talking to the other families), but when the principal approached the podium, everyone saw that he wasn’t the most responsible of men. For he was wearing patched up jeans and a very stained shirt, along with his hair looking very untidy, in which some parents didn’t even give him the chance to talk before they said “Hell no” and left.
“Excuse my appearance everyone,” he said, combing his hair with his hands in a vain attempt to look decent. “It appears that somebody forgot to tell me about today,” he said, looking at someone who Kris guessed was the vice-principal.
About an hour and a half later, they stood outside, trying to catch a cab with application forms and supply lists in hand. “So,” said Kris, flagging a cab down and opening the door, “Where to next?”
“To your new high school,” she said happily, sliding in and telling the driver the address to go to.
Ten minutes later they were stopping in front of a tall building with a banner which read, “WELCOME BACK STUDENTS!!” in big bold print.
“What school is this,” Kris asked, looking around, seeing parents and teachers ushering kids into the building.
“We’re at Benjamin Franklin high school, home of the Rebels,” she said proudly once more.
“What,” Kris said under his breath, “no school named after a president?”
“What’d you say,” his mother asked, turning around and just missed knocking into another parent, pulling his two daughters into the school.
“I said are you sure that we don’t have be a neighborhood resident,” he said quickly, realizing her good hearing, “I mean, how far is the house from here?”
“Oh, about three, maybe four miles,” she said, looking at a map she picked up at the door. “You can take a bus, see, a school bus goes right by the house.”
As Kris looked at the map, he realized it went right through some of the richest parts of the city. “Um, mom,” he said with a sound of worrisome in his voice, “how much is the tuition for this school?”
“It might be a little high right now,” she said hastily, “but once the company gets up and running, we’ll have plenty of money for the tuition, supplies, uniforms—,”
“UNIFORMS!?” he whispered to his mother as they walked into a large auditorium, “Oh, just perfect, just what I need in a school, uniforms, next thing your going to tell me is that the principle is a Harvard graduate and runs the strictest school in the state,” he finished, short of breath.
“Well, actually…” said his mother in a guilty voice, “he’s a Princeton graduate and the school is kinda stricter than most schools that you’ve been to.”
“OH, COME ON,” he said, a little louder than intended and hastily said, “sorry,” to the parents behind him, who shushed him with a look of disgust on their faces.
“Just sit back, listen to the orientation and complain later,” she said as a middle-aged man with a salt-and-pepper bottlebrush mustache walked onto the stage.
“Welcome students, parents and teachers,” he said in a strong, deep voice, which surprised the whole audience. They were expecting a wheezy old voice.
“I’ll be your principal for this upcoming year here at Benjamin Franklin High School,” and at this there was a few cheers and whoops of laughter from the audience. Losers, he thought, people that were crazier than these guys know how to control themselves better than this.
“Settle down, settle down,” he said to a small group of seniors, “so, to kick off the orientation, here are the Rebelette’s,” and as he stepped off the stage a group of girls in black skirts and tops came on stage, got in position and sang out:

Let’s hear the freshman yell,

At this, a large group of freshman yelled out whoops of “yeah” and “0-9”, while there was an even louder shout of boo’s among the auditorium.

Let’s hear the sophomore’s yell,

They yelled out again, and at this Kris stood up and shouted with them, while the rest of the auditorium booed and jeered, “Kris,” he heard his mother say beside him, “sit down right now!”

Let’s hear the juniors yell,

And as expected, another group of juniors shouted out cheers of excitement and loud “0-7”, while the rest of the auditorium booed and jeered again.

Let’s hear the seniors yell,

And as the loudest shouts echoed throughout the room, Kris noticed something oddly familiar about one of the cheerleaders on the stage. “Hey Kris, isn’t that Jennifer,” said his mother, realizing it too.
“No,” Kris answered back, “That’s Jessica,” he said, noticing the red-haired cheerleader, “I didn’t know she was a cheerleader though.”
“How do you know that’s Jessica and not Jennifer?” his mother asked, looking at the girl as if she could get her attention to look back at her.
“Because Jennifer is the gothic one, remember,” he said, remembering the black haired Juvenile, “and Sarah doesn’t have bangs.”
“Oh yeah, I forgot. So,” she continued, seeing an open opportunity to ask him an unexpected question, “how do you like the school so far?”
“It’s not too bad,” Kris said absentmindedly, “I mean, at least I know someone here now, so I won’t feel as awkward as usual in a new school, right?”
“Right, well let’s watch the rest and see if we recognize anyone else and then we’ll go home, ok,” she said, smiling widely with narrow eyes.
About half an hour later they were once again waving down a taxi with enrollment forms and wavers in hand, “Well that wasn’t too bad, now was it?”
“No, but I still think it’ll be too expensive for us,” Kris said, opening the taxi door and letting Jay in.
“Why don’t you let me worry about that and you worry about your school work for next week, ok,” said his mother, getting in next to Jay and giving the diver the directions.
“Whatever you say,” he said, getting in the car and driving off, glad that the hunt for schools was over once more.