Dean shut the door to his apartment, reading the numbers, 116 off the cheap peace of rotting wood, as he slung his back pack over one shoulder nonchalantly. He started looking for the key, reaching for it in his pocket. Now were was it...? He plunged his hand farther down, and soon his thumb touched the familiar texture of metal. He ran his finger over the edge to make sure it was what he was looking for, then put the key in the lock, and twisted.
The fresh air was nice. It was something Dean needed once and a while. His apartment was filled up with so much smoke, he could hardly breath. It wasn't exactly a good thing. Though, there was a good thing about living in this building. His dealer, Danny lived here as well, so it was easy to get drugs.
The walk to school was short, and easy. Almost all down hills. Though, he didn't no why he was going here to learn, besides, he wouldn't be attending most of the classes. He sighed, and stopped by a bush and sat down. He had lots of time. Dean took out a cigarette, put it in his mouth, and lit it. As he started this, things started to feel somewhat better. He was a senior this year. Things would improve.
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Jesse entered the doors of the school, and headed straight for the office. He needed to get his schedule, and a map. Then, it would be much easier to find his classes. When he reached the door, he opened it slightly, and tapped quietly on the nicely polished wood. A woman, looking maybe thirty or fifty, said without a glimpse of him, "Come in.." So he did. "Jesse Lewis" He said, as she asked of his name. "Jesse Lewis, Jesse Lewis..." She mumbled quietly as she searched the papers. "Ah, here we are" She said, and handed him a few sheets of papers, held together with a staple.
Jesse looked through them to find his first class. At last, he came to one, that looked somewhat like his schedule. He smiled. English.