The alarm buzzed at 6:40.
Jon reached out from under the blanket and hit the button. He lay there a moment, blinking the morning light filtered in through the curtains. With a grunt, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. The floor was cold. He grabbed his hoodie from the chair, pulled it on, and stuffed his laptop into his bag before heading downstairs.
The kitchen was empty. He grabbed a slice of bread, pulled some cheese from the fridge, and started making a grilled cheese sandwich. As it cooked, he checked the time on the clock: 6:52.
Outside, the street was still quiet. The bus was already at the corner, engine rumbling, exhaust drifting into the air. Jon jogged the last few steps.
The door folded open with a soft hiss. Jon climbed aboard and nodded at the driver.
"Good Morning," he said.
The driver, a heavyset man with a thick gray mustache, hesitated a second before giving a small nod. He moved down the aisle, stepping past empty seats and bags thrown haphazardly around, looking for a place to sit.
Most of the seats were taken, with kids leaning against the windows or half-sitting with their heads buried in their phones. One seat was half-blocked by a bag, and another had a jacket draped across it. Jon slid into a spot near the middle and set his bag beside him.
The bus rumbled forward, pulling away from the curb.
Jon pulled out his earbuds, slid them into his ears, and glanced out the window. The gray sky was beginning to lighten, as the first hints of dawn started creeping over the rooftops. The bus rumbled down the quiet street, its tires humming against the asphalt.
He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes for a moment, the world outside fading into the background. A child in the seat across the aisle was playing some game on his phone, the sound of tapping and gun shots filling the air.
Jon turned up his music to drown it out and stared out at the houses passing by. The same old streets. The same old trees lining the sidewalks. Nothing different.
The quiet chatter on the bus filled the air, with only the occasional rustling of jackets or the soft sounds of phones being tapped.
Jon turned his attention back to the window, the bus slowly making its way toward the school.
The bus rolled into the school parking lot, the familiar buildings coming into view as the doors opened with a soft hiss. Jon stood up, grabbing his bag, and stepped off the bus. The cool air hit him, and students made their way to their lockers, chatting as they passed.
Jon walked through the crowded hallways, dodging groups of students chatting or rushing to class.
Jon pushed through the door of his homeroom, scanning the room for a seat. His best friend, Alex, was usually the first in class. Today, however, Jon noticed that his seat was empty. Alex hadn’t been feeling well yesterday, and Jon guessed he must’ve stayed home.
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Jon slid into his seat, pulling out his notebook. Around him, the usual students settled into their places. Mark and Sarah were in the back, their heads buried in their phones, whispering quietly about something. Jon could hear their soft laughter from across the room but kept to himself.
Emily was sitting at her desk, tapping her pencil against the tabletop. Her eyes kept flicking to the front, waiting for the class to start. Jon gave her a quick glance but turned his attention back to his desk.
The bell rang, and Mrs. Harper, their homeroom teacher, stood at the front of the room, adjusting her glasses as she glanced over the class.
“Alright, class, settle down. Today, we’re continuing our unit on genetics. I’ll need everyone to take out your textbooks.”
Jon opened his book, flipping to the right chapter. Mrs. Harper began writing notes on the board, explaining the basics of DNA and inheritance.
From the back of the room, Sarah raised her hand. “Wait, so you’re telling me that we inherit traits from both our parents, not just one?”
Mrs. Harper nodded. “Exactly, Sarah. It’s the combination of genes from both parents that determines the traits we have.”
Jon half-listened, following along in his textbook. Mark whispered something to Sarah in response, but Jon couldn’t quite hear it. Emily was focused entirely on the lesson, her pencil flying across the page as she wrote down every word Mrs. Harper said.
The class continued, and Mrs. Harper called on Jon to answer a question about genetic mutations. He responded, turning back to his book when the lesson moved on.
The bell rang, and Jon gathered his things and headed to his next class, glancing at the empty seat where Alex usually sat.
Jon sat through the rest of the morning without much else to note. The final bell of the day rang, signaling the start of his last class — chemistry. He walked into the lab, the familiar scent of chemicals and cleaner filling the air. His seat by the window was taken , but he quickly found a spot in the middle of the room.
Mr. Stevens, the chemistry teacher, stood at the front, scribbling formulas on the board. He explained the experiment they would be doing today: testing different substances to see how they reacted with water.
“Alright, everyone, watch closely,” Mr. Stevens said, his voice commanding attention. He reached for a small metal chunk in a container on his desk. It looked ordinary enough, but Jon knew better. “This is sodium. It reacts violently with water, so be careful. I’m just going to show you what happens when it touches it.”
With careful movements, Mr. Stevens dropped the chunk of sodium into a small bowl of water. Almost instantly, the metal hissed and popped, then exploded in a burst of sparks and steam. A few students jumped back, but the teacher just smiled.
“See? The water reacts with the metal to create hydrogen gas, which causes the explosion. Always fascinating to watch, even if we know what’s coming.”
Jon was still watching the water bubble and steam as Mr. Stevens continued explaining the chemical reaction. The rest of the class followed along, mixing their own substances, but Jon couldn’t help watching the reaction again in his mind. The combination of elements, the violent burst of energy, was one of the things he liked about chemistry. There was always something unexpected, even in a lesson as simple as this.
The bell rang, signaling the end of class. Jon gathered his things and walked out of the lab, heading toward the parking lot, where his bus was waiting. The ride home was quiet, with only the soft murmur of students around him. Jon settled into his seat, staring out the window as the bus drove through the familiar streets.
The buildings blurred by, the same houses, the same trees. His thoughts drifted briefly, but nothing stood out. Just another ordinary ride.
When the bus pulled into his stop, Jon got off and walked the short distance to his house. He paused in front of the door, taking a moment before he turned the handle and stepped inside.