Welcome to Keene. Nothing much happens here.
The shores of the Great Lake Huron ripple against the cliffs. The roads stretch through the small streets of cafes, insurance companies, and the town's only grocer, Aura Mart. Duplexes combine small businesses and homes together. The high school, Keene High, rests comfortably between buildings. The town feels sleepy, complacent. Quiet. The citizens of Keene lazily roll by day after day, all content with their monotonous lives. Sure, it isn't exciting, but it is reliable, and comfortable. Sunlight and moonlight blend into each other, combined by the common overcast of rainy days.
The roars of jet engines rocket overhead as the days stretch on, towards the Air Base that resided twenty miles to the north. It offers a brief glimpse into another world, another life. The road, its own cliffside to the massive lake that feels like an ocean, stretches through the rocky coast. Nothing but the waves reach this almost endless stretch.
Another summer has come to an end, and Keene is just as it was before. Quiet, safe, and unchanging.
After all, in a small town like this, what could happen?
-ROOM 1-3-
~Red Start~
As the teacher droned on about the contents of the new textbook, Leigh stared out the window by his desk, and watched the rain slam against the window.
The sky had been overcast the day before, though the sun still managed to peek its way through, as if it were giving a final gift to the new students of Keene High. The sun had left since then, though, leaving a torrential downpour on top of the town since early this morning. Leigh's hair was still damp.
Still, at least he had somewhere to go now. The summer's events were all but interesting, composed mostly of housecare and trips to the store. His semi-friends that had been made in his last year of middle school drifted away from him, to his own indifference. He looked around his classroom, breaking his gaze from the window. He saw a few familiar faces, though most he had never attempted to talk to before now. He mentally shrugged.
His thoughts were interrupted by the teacher, a man named Rosenthal, as he cleared his throat. "Now," he began, and started to hand out sheets of paper. "These are your electives. Some of you have signed up for school activities, others have been assigned to you. Your elective is an hour and a half long, from 10:00 to 11:30, which will lead you until lunch. This is a new schedule, and we trust it will fit you well. Now, resuming the lesson..."
The leaflet slid onto Leigh's desk. He looked across the wall of text, looking for his name under "Assigned Classes". Surprisingly, he didn't find his name. His eyes slid across the page, before seeing his name.
"Leigh Brodie- Newspaper Club"
A recreational club? He was surprised. Recreational clubs were reserved for personal requests, or the highest percentage of students. And he wasn't particularly good at reporting. So the question remained:
Why?
Before he could think very hard, the bell rang. As students go up to leave, Mr. Rosenthal's voice came from behind a newpaper, a reminder of Leigh's current predicament. "Remember, follow the room guide on your leaflet. See you in a few hours."
