The 2014-15 school year didn't exactly start out with a bang as the administration promised; though, from Cal's personal experience, the staff were generally wrong about everything. New students wouldn't become "new friends" nor did the atmosphere of quaint ol' Arcadia Academy become any more appealing with their arrival. Inviting in a conglomeration of clueless, sappy children into the shitty school's gruesome mess was already a bad decision in the first place. Cal almost felt sorry for the unsuspecting mass, but almost was, truthfully, a stretch. If they weren't resourceful enough to fend for themselves, they didn't deserve to live in the first place.
To add insult to an already severe injury, with all of the new people plaguing every hallway in every building, Cal had absolutely no peace of mind. The accumulating ensemble of voices ignited a fiery anger that only grew more fierce every day, threatening to boil the blood running in his veins. Sitting in the corner of the common's room, Cal's frustration verged on eruption. He rose up from his seat, used all of his willpower to replace the distraught expression adorning his countenance with one of only slight discomfort, and made his way toward the door. Being a recluse was one thing for the boy, but he'd done everything in his power to stop walking around like the brooding monster people thought he was. They weren't wrong, though.
As he finally reached the door, he'd been unable to control himself and pulled the door open with too much force. The wood shook inside its frame but before he could think about what an utterly stupid notion that was, he noticed that he was standing in front of another student. He let his eyebrows raise up on his face, blowing out a massive puff of air from his nose. "Sorry; after you," he told them, gesturing for the person to take a step inside.
