NationStates

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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."

Cecily Jyotsna Kevinson, more often known as Cecily or CJ, eyed her room guide as she walked down a hall filled with bustling kids. Perhaps she should have been concentrating on finding her next class; regardless, her mind was wandering. She'd been assigned, of all things, a newspaper club. She did get good grades - maybe that explained why she'd received a type of class typically assigned to top students, despite her lack of interest in the subject? Then again, perhaps the universe or God or Krishna or Ganesh or someone else or karma or whatever had decided to play a trick on her, or perhaps the explanation was more mundane - the head honchos hadn't known where to put someone like her, and, given that she hadn't signed up for something logical...

Regardless, at least her parents would probably be pleased. They had been bugging - her lips turned upward slightly at the ironically-phrased thought - her to display interests beyond entomology. Apparently her various more brief interests (ranging from sampling some of the world's oddest beverages to classical music to a confusing attempt at code breaking) hadn't quite cut it. While it was annoying, they did have a point. Colleges looked for extracurriculars, and who else would find half the stuff she'd messed with worthwhile? Besides, maybe this could be a chance to make some friends - to find people who wouldn't find her interests to be a constant source of amusement, almost always at her expense.

Of course, any such potential friends would be fast exposed to said interests, as Cecily wore a T-shirt she'd decorated, text and a scribbled ant in cool colors against a golden yellow background. Slogan: "This ant is stronger than you (proportionally)". (Unfortunately, "stronger" looked like "strange" if viewed from the front, as it went off the side. She figured that - given that that was likely also true - it wasn't really worth the trouble to redo it.) With said top, she wore a blue batik-print skirt that her mom had talked her into (among other things it matched the ant), a pink beaded bracelet, a pair or flip-flops which had once been tan and were now covered in rainbow-hued scribbles, and what her dad had called a "refreshingly normal" backpack (they'd found a traditionally styled green two-tone piece. It was already starting to get covered with scribbles and doodads...)

Jason looked at the list of elective classes, he hadn't signed up for anything since the last time he had signed up for a a 'interesting class' he ended up blowing the electrical grid while testing his semester project. Finding his name he looked next to it to find that he had been stuck into a newspaper club, for a moment he pondered the question wouldn't that be a an extra curricular? Shrugging the thought off he figured he would just be the tech guy for the group since it was what he did best, and likely build a new news paper printer while he's at it.

Elijah Cooper leaned back in his chair, listening to music from Guys and Dolls on his phone. He had to force himself not to sing along when "Luck be a Lady" came on, and he was just barely controlling himself when the schedule was slipped onto his desk. Taking out his earbuds, he quickly scanned the piece of paper, looking for his name.

Newspaper Club? he thought mentally, I better not have to drop Choir or Drama for this.

He shrugged and slipped the ear buds back in, letting his mind slip.

"Luck be a Lady tonight," he sang quietly, not noticing, "Never get out of my sight. Luck if you've ever been a lady to begin with, luck be a lady tonight."

Alex McDermott yawned and leaned back in his chair, the back of his jeans slowly sliding down the seat. The day was cold and damp - typical of the weather around Keene, really - but the overenthusiastic heater made the air uncomfortably warm. He lay back and listened to the teacher drone on about class schedules.

The schedules were handed out soon after, and Alex, getting up, eagerly scanned it, looking for his name. He couldn't find his name under his expected classes, but it soon popped up -

Alex McDermott - Newspaper Club - 10:00 to 11:30

What?

That was strange - Alex didn't think himself a reporter. In any case, it certainly wouldn't be worse than his other classes, Alex thought depressedly, so he might as well give it a shot.