Compared to the high school memories from his life , the atmosphere of an American public school felt both fresh and a little jarring.
He found his locker with ease, thanks to muscle memory, and grabbed the textbooks he needed for the morning. He stuffed the completed homework assignments and [Nutrition for Muscle Gain & Fat Loss] into his backpack, then headed toward his first class.
The classroom layout was typical and messy:
Desks and chairs were scattered haphazardly. The walls were covered in outdated posters and graffiti. The air smelled like a mix of chalk dust, cheap cologne, and teenage sweat (it stank).
The student body was a mix of races—mostly white, black, and Latino. His Asian face stood out quite a bit in the crowd.
As soon as he walked into the classroom, a few heavily made-up white girls surrounded him excitedly.
"Hi, Shane! You weren't here yesterday, what happened?"
"Did you go somewhere fun with Karen?"
Shane frowned. He wasn't really into this overly enthusiastic attention, and his memories told him the original owner felt the same way.
He waved his hand dismissively, his tone flat: "Okay, can you give me some space? I have things to handle."
The girls pouted, but they were used to this attitude from him, so they dispersed resentfully.
Meanwhile, a few students from different grades were waiting at the classroom door. They were his "clients" who had paid in advance and were waiting for Shane to "deliver the goods."
Shane walked over and silently handed them the completed homework notebooks. The money had already been collected.
After sending away his "business partners," he went to his seat by the window and sat down.
The bell rang. A history teacher who looked like he'd given up on life walked in and started droning on about the Revolutionary War straight from the textbook.
Shane tuned out the voice from the podium entirely. He pulled [Nutrition for Muscle Gain & Fat Loss] out of his bag, spread it on the desk, and started reading seriously under the light coming through the grime-streaked window.
The teacher glanced at him but didn't say anything. He was used to this Asian student who got good grades but was always in his own world.
In this South Side high school, the bar for teachers was low—
As long as you were in the room and not disturbing others, you could do whatever you wanted.
Sleeping, reading random books, or studying some mysterious text like Shane was doing—they didn't care enough to stop you.
---
Time flew. When the bell finally rang to end the last morning class, teachers and students alike rushed out of the classrooms like birds released from a cage.
A few stylishly dressed girls approached Shane again, inviting him to sit with them at lunch. He waved them off without looking up.
"Thanks, but no. I'm eating with Karen."
He closed the book, having devoured another few dozen pages, stuffed it into his bag, and stretched contentedly.
When you're immersed in learning, time passes incredibly fast.
He carried his bag to his locker, shoved the whole thing inside to lighten his load, and walked toward the noisy cafeteria.
At the cafeteria entrance, Karen was already waiting. As soon as she saw him, she bounded over like a happy deer and planted a loud kiss on his cheek without a word.
Shane smiled and put his arm around her waist. Laughing and joking, they squeezed into the cafeteria with the crowd.
When they got to the serving line, Shane frowned at the classic American high school lunch in front of him.
A pile of yellow, gooey substance that was allegedly mac and cheese sat next to some dry, sad-looking chicken nuggets. The main course seemed to be meatballs covered in a greasy meat sauce. The vegetable option was a small heap of wilted lettuce drowned in Thousand Island dressing.
His stomach, which still yearned for stir-fry and rice deep down in his soul, protested immediately.
But he gritted his teeth and took a tray.
Sitting down, he looked at the food, not knowing where to start.
Karen noticed him hesitating with his fork and asked confusedly:
"What's wrong, Shane? Not eating? Are you still sick? You usually finish everything."
"Of course I'll finish it," Shane replied, adding silently in his head, That was the old Shane.
To fuel his body and quell the hunger, he forced himself to eat it all. But it was far from enough to make him full.
He instinctively wanted to buy something else from the system, but his backpack was in his locker, so he couldn't pretend to pull something out of it.
Thinking fast, he used the excuse of going to the bathroom. He walked to a secluded corner and quickly bought a few king-size Snickers bars from the system, stuffing them into his jacket pocket.
When he sat back down, he pulled one out and handed it to Karen.
"Whoa, what's this?" Karen took it curiously.
"Snickers. Great for energy. You're not allergic to nuts, right?"
"Nope!"
Karen shook her head and tore open the wrapper. She took a bite, her eyes squinting in happiness.
"Mmm! Good!" For an American palate used to heavy sugar, Snickers was just right, especially as a "surprise from the boyfriend."
"Thanks, sweetie!"
She leaned over and kissed Shane again.
Shane wolfed down his own bar in two bites, feeling the sugar and calories rapidly replenishing his energy.
"Having a high-performance body is great, but the fuel consumption is no joke," he thought to himself.
After finishing this "East-meets-West" lunch, the young couple found a quiet corner on campus to make out for a while until it was time for Karen's afternoon test (end of term meant testing season).
Shane didn't have anything important in the afternoon, so he just skipped class. He found a bench outside the building where Karen was taking her exam and continued reading his book. For him, studying was the same wherever he did it.
Time passed quietly as he turned pages and waited.
After school, Shane rejected a few more girls who tried to flirt with him. When he went to his locker to get his bag, he also firmly turned down a few students looking for homework help:
"Not doing that anymore."
Then, he appeared at the school gate right on time to meet Karen, and they walked home together.
Karen chattered away as usual, sharing little details about her day.
As they walked, she suddenly said wistfully:
"Shane, I got my license! My dream is to buy a car. My very own car, so I can drive anywhere just for the hell of it!"
She expected Shane to do what he always did—brush it off with "no rush," "we don't have money yet," or "wait a little longer."
But today, Shane stopped walking. He turned and looked seriously at her sweet face with its slight baby fat.
"Karen, do you really want a car?"
Karen nodded vigorously. "Of course!"
"Okay," Shane said firmly. "Before long, I'll help you buy one."
Karen froze. Then, huge surprise made her eyes light up like stars. She looked at Shane with a gaze so intense it was practically dripping honey.
"Whoa! You've never answered me like that before!"
She jumped up excitedly, ignoring the passersby, wrapped her arms around Shane's neck, and gave him a passionate, lingering French kiss.
For the rest of the walk home, the atmosphere between them was sweeter than honey.
Finally, after a reluctant goodbye at Karen's doorstep, Shane walked alone toward the Gallagher house.