[center][b]Anderson[/b]
Anderson's palms sweat heavily in the leftover summer heat of September, trapped in a car filled with Channel no. 9 and his mothers endless chatter. She was probably just as nervous as he, movements jerky a she navigated the four hour drive up to Northern California and through the mountains. The rising and falling sensation made him nauseous. The whole experience was exciting, but the machine gun of names she began throwing at him was where the doubt began. 

"If someone asks you if you want to meet Molly, Lucy, or Mary Jane you call me young man." She said, her pointy fingers gripping the wheel as they hugged the side of the mountain and her gaze on him. 
Eyes locked on the road, all Anderson could respond with was "Who?" Before she began again, and continued until they pulled into the luxurious, old style Academy.
"Do you need me to walk you in?"
"Bye, mom. I'll call you."

A large green duffle bag, a nylon string guitar, and a rolling suitcase
came with the giddy newcomer. Anderson was all too aware of himself as naive compared to most of the kids here, and the thought social embarrassment was gut wrenching. At any rate, who was Mary Jane? Anderson had only ever kissed a girl once in his life, and wasn't much concerned with them. Questions reeled in his head as he entered the boys dorms, dropping his bags in the first empty room he could find. First floor, room 4a, just off of the courtyard entrance. Perfect. Slipping out of the room into the morning sun, he stared unsure into the court yard. This was going to be harder then he had previously thought.[/center]