A Struggling Student

Naijiel had certainly slept more in a night than he had today. After all, it was his first day at Starlight Academy. Surely, anyone would be nervous in his situation, right?

Whatever the case, the few hours of sleep he did get seemed enough to sustain him when paired with his rattled nerves, because it was only moments after his alarm clock went off that he was out of bed and in the shower. In truth, Naijiel knew the school wasn't the only thing on his mind. He was determined to turn his life around this time, whatever he had to do.

At the moment, Naijiel lived off-campus, in a small cabin off in the woods. He was simply used to the isolation, after hiding his true form from humans for so long. Who could blame him for wanting to stay away from town? Even so, the cabin lacked the usual amenities of hot water and leak-proof ceilings, which was only fair considering the bargain he'd attained it for. Still, tripping over pots meant to catch leaks in the ceiling on his way to a cold shower was hardly convenient.

It wasn't long before he was dressed and ready, and in record time, too. He was at least ten minutes ahead of schedule. He wore a simple outfit of a faded yellow v-neck t-shirt and blue jeans, paired with a black fleece jacket and tennis shoes. Simple, practical, and it had a hood. Perfect. He headed out to his first day at a new school, unaware of how difficult the rest of the day would be.

-Later-

Ugh.

Uuuugh.

AAAAaargh!

His brain felt numb. Period. End of sentence. As a mid-year transfer, he knew things would be hard, but he'd completely overlooked the fact that he hadn't been in school since middle school, not to mention that he was taught the middle-school curriculum of three centuries ago. Genetics? What the heck were cells? Not to mention calculus and...he was expected to know how to use a calculator? He'd seen one before, sure, but...what were all these buttons?

As he sat in his 5th period class in Philosophy, he could hear snickers from a student behind him as he stared at the blank piece of lined paper in front of him, holding his pencil but unable to hold onto the teacher's lecture long enough to write down a complete thought. He could hardly keep up with the endless droning voice of the lecture enough to learn anything, let alone write notes! What the hell was this?

He looked back up to the teacher, trying his best to hide his confusion, although he imagined he still looked just as dumbfounded as he was.

Damn this class.

Damn college.

Damn everything.

Naijiel's eyes widened slightly as the teacher paused his lecture to tell the students behind him to leave, and watched in mild surprise as the students obediently retreated, although clearly upset. The male then looked back to the teacher, a bit surprised to find him standing right in front of his desk.

Surprisingly, the teacher offered to help him catch up on any notes he missed, before resuming class. How did he know that Naijiel was struggling? Duh, he saw Naijiel staring at him like a damn dump on a log. God, he was such an idiot.

Naijiel decided to dismiss thoughts of the offer until after class, and try his best to absorb what he could now. At least with the laughing students gone, he wasn't being distracted, but even so he hardly understood any of what he was writing down. Still, he wrote furiously, determined to at least fill up the page before the end of class, despite only having a few minutes left.

Seven minutes later, the bell rung, and Naijiel looked over his paper, sitting back in near exhaustion after having written down one and a half pages of notes he could hardly make sense of. Something about Greece and philosophy, and that's about all he gleamed from it. He could hardly feel proud of himself for writing the notes when he couldn't even read them.

As the rest of the class began to flood out of the classroom, he stayed seated, finally allowing himself to think about the teacher's proposal. He hated the idea of relying on the teacher for his notes, but the fact was that he needed to have the resources before he could even think about understanding them. He sighed softly, gathering his books to his chest and standing, approaching the teacher's desk.

"Mr. LaMont?" He asked, drawing the teacher's attention. He avoided eye contact, rather embarrassed to be asking for help, although he tried to hide it. He held out his notes to show the teacher what he had managed to get, and while the page and a half on the last seven minutes of class was extensive, there was little to nothing detailing anything before. "You said you'd help fill in my notes." He half-mumbled begrudgingly, as if the teacher needed a reminder.