Krash & Bern

1. Bernice

“I can’t believe I’m late on my first day of school,” I grumbled to myself as I walked down the empty hallway. The white tiled floor reminded me of a prison hallway. Had I ever been to prison? No. However, it felt like the right way to describe my current situation.

The tumultuous pounding of my heartbeat blurred my vision as my palms began to sweat. The thin layer of sweat annoyed me as I tugged on the straps of my backpack. Today was the first day of school. At the end of my eighth-grade year, I tested out of my freshman and sophomore years and would be starting my junior classes today. I had no friends in the grade, so my nerves were on edge. Well… I didn’t have many friends my age either, but that was neither here nor there.

The design of the junior hallway was confusing. The rooms didn’t go in numerical order, and there were letters beside each number on my schedule. Had I’d gone the traditional route, I would have gotten the tour of the school like every other incoming freshman, but since I’d skipped a few steps, I had to go in blind. I frowned when I finally made it to the English class listed as my homeroom class. The door was open, and I could see the teacher explaining what I assumed to be the syllabus. With timid steps, I entered the room and looked around the unfamiliar space.

Everyone looked at me with curious eyes as I held my schedule out to the teacher. The blonde woman with thick framed glasses read the schedule and smiled. Miranda Donaldson looked young to be a junior English teacher, but she must’ve been qualified. Obviously .

“Welcome, Miss James,” she stated with a kind voice. “This is junior’s English. We look forward to having you around this year.”She grabbed a syllabus from her desk and held it out to me.

“Thank you,” I replied in a squeak of a voice.

“Do you want to introduce yourself?” Mrs. Donaldson asked.

My shoulders lifted into a shrug. “I don’t mind…”

I felt like I didn’t have a choice. If I didn’t introduce myself, it might have caused an even bigger issue to decline than to just speak briefly about myself.

“Let’s give Miss James the floor to introduce herself.” Mrs. Donaldson put all eyes on me. I felt like a mouse in a hungry lion’s den. The sweat on my palms multiplied as I tried to discreetly wipe them on the back pockets of my jeans. I didn’t have to recite a soliloquy, but it dang sure felt like it.

“H-Hi,” I stuttered. I cleared my throat and lifted my head up to feign confidence. “Hi. I’m Bernice. I tested out of two grades at the end of eighth grade, so I’m here now… I don’t know many people in this grade, but if you enjoy anime, manga, and romance novels, I’m your girl!” The confidence in my voice made the words flow effortlessly.

To sum up my character fact sheet, I was an anime-watching nerd who loved to read and play with computers. I was a balance of introverted and extroverted—it all depended on where I was and what I was doing. I wanted to make a new friend today, but I was content with getting through the day under the radar.

“Thank you for the introduction, Miss James. I think the only seat available is in the back of the class next to Mister Williams. Mister Williams, please raise your hand.”

My eyes perused the classroom and zeroed in on the tall, brown-skinned teenager with thick eyebrows. His dark hair was faded on the sides and cut low. He had a tattoo on his neck, which threw me off because, how the heck did they allow the teenager to get a tattoo on his neck? I took my backpack off and made my way over to him. He licked his lips and leaned close to where my desk was. As I set my backpack on the floor beside my desk, he smiled at me. He showed me the perfect white teeth in two rows.

“Yo’ mama really named you Bernice?” he quizzed.

“Yes. I was named after my great grandmother,” I replied.

He nodded. “Type shit. I fuck with it. You gon’ make a mean ass banana puddin’, huh?”

I giggled at his joke. “I don’t know about all that. I don’t like to be in the kitchen. I just show up when they call me to eat.”

“You just like me, for real,” he agreed. “I’m Keyshawn, but everyone calls me Krash.”

“Why do they call you Krash?” I inquired. He’d piqued my interest.

“I’ll tell you one day, just not today.”

“Okay,” I hummed. The more we talked, the more intrigued I became by his mysteriousness.

I pulled out my highlighter and pen. I followed along as Mrs. Donaldson went over important dates and expectations of the class. For the duration of the class, I was focused on Mrs. Donaldson, though I could feel Keyshawn’s eyes on me. When the dismissal bell rang, I gathered my backpack and stood up. Keyshawn slung his backpack over his left shoulder and walked in step with me out the door of the classroom. He smelled better than any boy from middle school ever did. His scent reminded me of my older cousin’s cologne, but it smelled so much better on Keyshawn’s skin. It was manly , attractive, and warm.

“Where are you going next?” he asked.

Glancing at the schedule, I showed him my next class. He smirked.

“That’s right next to my class. I’ll walk with you.”

“No, thank you.” I shook my head to emphasize the decline.

“Why not?” he asked with a frown tugging on his lips.

“I don’t want you to walk me to class and think I have to give you my virginity as a result of your good deed.” I hooked my fingers around my backpack straps and adjusted the heavy thing on my shoulders.

“Bern, there are girls lined up to fuck me. I don’t want that from you… when you’re barely twelve.”

“I turn fifteen on May fifteenth, actually.” I corrected him.

“You’re a baby . I don’t want to do anything but make sure you make it to your class.”

“Sorry… My mama and daddy told me to watch out for boys… I didn’t mean to attack your character.”

“It’s cool. You still don’t want me to walk you to your classes?”

“We can walk together.”

He smirked and walked in stride with me to the math hall. It felt like I had a personal bodyguard to navigate me through the chaotic halls of the high school. During our short journey, Keyshawn had talked to what felt like everyone who passed him. I assumed he played sports because every jock looking guy and cheerleader looking girl spoke to him. They all eyed me with questioning glances, but none of them ever spoke directly to me.

“This is our stop,” Keyshawn stated with a grin.

“Thank you,” I said respectfully.

“Nah, it’s no problem at all, beautiful. I’ll be here after your class. If we have the same lunch block, you can sit with me.”

“Thank you.”

He nodded and made his way into his classroom. I stepped into the classroom and found a seat in the front of the room. I liked to be front and center to make sure I could hear the teacher properly and get the best view of the board, in case I had to take notes. I knew I’d get looked at a certain way because I was younger than everyone, but my parents prepared me for it. Education was important to me. I had dreams of going to the best tech school in the country because I wanted to open my own tech company. I had big ambitions and even bigger motivation to make my parents proud.

My second and third periods went by in a blur. When lunch came around, I was nervous as hell. I went through the line and got my chicken tenders, mashed potatoes, and apple. I opted out of the milk to go with my meal because I’d rather have my iced water instead. Honestly, I didn’t like the idea of drinking milk with any meal other than breakfast. Milk made sense to go beside eggs and bacon, but it didn’t make sense to go with chicken tenders.

As I walked out of line, I gulped. The large cafeteria buzzed with conversation while I stood in confusion on where to sit. From my view, there was no empty seat for me to hide away in. All of the tables looked crowded and rowdy.

I was an outsider.

I was a misfit.

I didn’t belong because I hadn’t had time to make friends and get situated. Everyone here was two or three years into their friendships, and I was trying to squeeze my way in. I wanted to run and hide, but before I could make my way toward the exit, I felt an arm drape over my shoulder. I craned my neck to get a better look at the person intruding in my personal space.

“Let me take you to the table, Bern.”

This had been the second time he’d referred to me as Bern. My family and friends—the ones I’d had in middle school—called me Bernie. The new nickname made me feel… weird . Was this the feeling they wrote about in my young adult novels? I shook the thought out of my head as I sat down at the long cafeteria table. There were four other people at the table.

“This is my new friend, Bernice.” Krash sat down and opened a bag of baked Hot Cheetos he’d gotten from the vending machine.

I set my tray on the table and tried to make myself smaller to avoid the judgmental gazes. The boys at the table barely paid me any attention as they talked animatedly about something while the two girls in letterman jackets glared at me.

“Yo’ mama named you old ass Bernice?” one of them asked.

I nodded.

“That old eighteen hundreds ass name. Why would she do that?” the other girl asked.

Instead of entertaining their rude remarks, I opened my sci-fi novel and tried to ignore them. For a moment, I was able to drown out the obnoxious conversations until I felt Krash’s gaze on me.

“Bern,” he said in a gentle tone.

I folded the corner of the book inward to mark my place. “Hmm?”

“Don’t pay these bitter bitches any mind,” he stated loud enough for the two girls to hear.

“Krash, don’t get beat up!” one of the girls threatened.

“You ain’t on any of that, girl.” Krash waved her off and offered me a gentle smile. “Anyway, before I was interrupted. You in good hands with me. Nobody gon’ bother you as long as you got Krash on yo’ team.”

“You have made my first day of school less frightening. Thank you,” I stated meekly.

“We gon’ get you out your shell. I see you like to read, and that’s cool as hell. Around certain people, they’d make fun of you for having a hobby like that. If anybody ever gives you a problem, you send them my way, and I’ll guarantee they never fuck with you again.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine. Why did he take me under his wing? Why did he want to protect me? Did he feel the same connection I felt? Was… was what I felt real or a figment of my teenage mind?

“Why?” The question left my lips before I could catch myself.

“Why, what?”

“Why did you choose me? Why didn’t you ignore me like everyone else?”

“You want the truth?”

“Please.”

I braced myself for what was to come.

“The truth is, I saw a young girl who looked like a deer in headlights. You are prime conditions for bullying, and I don’t play that shit. I ain’t ever been a bully, and I don’t fuck with anybody who is. I’ll nip that shit in the bud really quick. Ya feel me?”

“I feel you,” I replied. I tucked my hair behind my ear and looked away.

“I’m just letting you know. As long as you’re by my side, you ain’t got to worry about anybody bothering you. You got a personal bodyguard in me, and I don’t mind knocking niggas out for you.”

His words were final. My first day of high school, and I’d already made a friend. Something in my gut told me this would be the start of something beautiful.