The hard wood floor was cold to the touch as he swung himself out of bed. Nightmares of burning cars and screams woke him up early, sweat drenching his blankets. The electronic clock on his dresser read 5:30 Am. A bit early, but he did have a job to do at the school. So he figured he would take a shower and maybe get something to eat. The school janitor had a ride along mower that blew a head gasket. Normally his shop teacher or the janitor fixes these things. However, troy offered to help fix it for extra credit and some community service hours. Anything to get him out of math and English really.

The staff agreed, and he was supposed to arrive at the school an hour early. He was only a 15-min drive from the school and didn’t mind getting up early. Making a couple fried eggs and potatoes, Troy quickly ate his breakfast and washed the dishes he used before taking a cold shower and headed out the door. Wearing his usual blue jeans with oil and grease stains and an old green t-shirt with a few small holes in it. His hair was a little messy and his short beard was a doing its own thing as usual.

The drive to the school was uneventful as always. A noticeable chill warned of the end of summer and the colder days to come. The next few hours flew by pretty quick. Troy put on his Grey coveralls with his name stitched into it, a gift from his aunt he keeps in his locker there. The shop teacher Mr. Wright was always informative with whatever task they were undertaking. Even had a beautiful vocabulary when things weren’t going his way. Then before he knew it the lawnmower was fixed and he had a short break before lunch.

Standing in line waiting for food the tall young man was still wearing his coveralls, but he at least washed his hands. His face was still covered in dirt with marks of oil and grease, his fingernails still had dirt under them, but he didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. However, once he got to the first lunch lady she looked him over with a frown, [u]“Troy. Why do you feel like you can’t wash your face off before getting into my chow line?”[/u] she had her hands on her hips and looked mildly annoyed.

“Sorry ma’am, I’ll try to clean up better next time. But Mr. Wright and I got the lawn mower working again.” He answered her question with a smile. At least he had a good reputation with the staff here. Most of them were aware of his past and what he’s been through thanks to his aunt.

The older lady dropped her arms and sighed shaking her head, [u]“Alright as long as you were helping him out I guess I can’t blame you for that.”[/u] She stopped and pointed her spatula at him, [u]“but next time you better not come in here lookin like you just rolled around in an oil pan, ya hear.”[/u]

All he could do was smile as she started piling on food onto his plate, “Yes Ma’am.” Mashed potatoes, two small mystery meat fired steaks and some green beans. They were even kind enough to give him a little extra today. Turning around with his food in hand his eyes drifted over the cafeteria and the open tables. A few tables had open spots but didn’t seem to welcoming. The jocks and popular kid’s seemed to have conquered their own tables like usual but seemed to be staring at another table a little ways away. The occasional glares were enough to spark his protective instincts.

Finding where they were looking he could see a group of four girls a couple tables away. He recognized most of them but couldn’t remember their names other than phoenix, because of her red hair, which he was also aware wasn’t her name. He couldn’t remember if he gave the other’s nicknames. The one new girl he did hear about something about scrapyard Jane? That didn’t sound right. O well, Troy opted to sit at a table near the four where he could see them and the jocks.

While not staring at either table directly, he was well aware that the jocks were capable of violence against the opposite sex. Two weeks into his first year here he almost ended the star quarterback’s chances of a football career. Walking in on him being rough with his girlfriend at the time and stopping him, almost broke his arm. There wasn’t anything big that came of that discipline wise. Troy just now has a target on his back when it comes to the jocks and cheer leaders. However, that was old news for most of them. For now, Troy would spend his time eating and occasionally jotting something down in his notebook as he glanced at the two tables completely unaware of the crystal necklace that slipped out of his coveralls.