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Wow. A non-(kind-of-yeah-it’s-still)-slash fic. Normally I don’t do these in depth, but the idea was kicking at my spinal cord until I gave in. So enjoy.
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I am a nerd.
This revelation isn’t earth-shattering or even very surprising. Hell, it’s actually an every day realization. It’s the first thing I think when I wake up in the mornings and the last thing I remember before I go to sleep.
I have no useful talents: just a knack for remembering nearly everything and an incredible tendency to screw up at the worst possible times. And I could feel a screw-up brewing in the back of my mind as our homeroom teacher gave an announcement.
“Today you’ll be gaining a new friend for the rest of the month,” he drawled, scowl firmly in place on his pallid face as he gazed across the thirty-something assembled students of his class. “In an effort to get rid of the stereotypical ‘cliques’, you will be paired with someone you wouldn’t normally associate with, therefore integrating everyone into everyone’s ‘clique’.” He spat out the word like it burned him, and I could see why. There were definitely set cliques: the popular girls, the jocks, the emo kids, the skaters, the cheerleaders, the preps, the outcasts, the geeks–you name it, North Fountain High has it. There were inter-clique feuds springing up more and more often, lately, and were most likely the cause of this ‘unity’ campaign.
“Our sister school, Danielle High, has taken this to a more extreme level, one that our school has not yet needed. However, if these problems do not cease–” he glared pointedly at the way the desks were separated “–we will be forced to take this action.”
“What are they doing there?” A voice to my right, and I had to turn and stare because I knew exactly who it was.
Lianthe Constantine was one of a group of four girls, a group who couldn’t be labeled as a clique because they were friends with everyone. As she liked to say: she didn’t fit in with people, people fit in with her. You could see why; she was unusually pretty and talented, but also weird and crazy to a degree where it made you worry for her sanity.
“Well, apparently they have students in groups of three shackled together at the ankles and sharing a single dorm room in an attempt to coerce unity. And now that you mention it, Miss Constantine, we actually have a group coming in today to explain what exactly this project will achieve.” Teacher-Man, whose real name was something to the effect of Jones, made a sweeping gesture toward the door.
It creaked open, eerily on cue, and in came the kind of people you’d never expect to see together. There was a tall, lanky black-haired boy that practically radiated death and mutilation; a pretty, athletic brunette girl with dyed-red bangs who seemed content with her position in the middle; and a slender brown-and-blonde boy who looked irritated at the world. There were ropes knotted around their ankles, but they wore them well, without a hint of embarrassment.
“Tyler, Callia, and Penbrooke,” Teacher-Man introduced them, going from left to right. Both boys scowled in unison, but the girl offered a small smile. “They are part of Danielle High’s Project Union. As you can see, they have progressed from hatred to something of a truce.” At the word hatred, the black-haired boy smirked lazily. In response the girl grinned, mumbling something under her breath, and Penbrooke frowned at them both.
“Do you have any advice to give our students here?” Tyler shook his head mutely and Penbrooke just shrugged unhelpfully. Teacher-Man turned to the girl. “Callia, perhaps?”
She smiled brightly, pushing her bangs away from her face. “Get through the first few days and everything will work out eventually. And it helps if you still see your other friends, but try to make time for your partner’s friends as well. That way it’s not as odd for either of you.”
“How would you know?” The black-haired boy’s first words, his voice dark and irritated but fond. “We spend all our time with your friends, Callie.”
“Not true,” she chided, elbowing him lightly. “We hung out with your friends on Tuesday, and Pen’s on Monday.”
“And with yours every day before and after that,” Penbrooke reminded her, his frown deepening somewhat. I wondered if that was a default facial reaction or if it was caused by a chronic muscle movement and oh my God, I am such a nerd. It’s not even funny.
“Well, whatever,” she said, waving her hands dismissively. “That’s not the point. What I mean is that you should probably try to find something in common with your partner and hopefully you’ll get to know each other better. That’s how I didn’t end up killing either of these idiots.”
“Thank you, Callia,” Teacher-Man breaks in, and now he’s holding a list that I suspect has our partners written down on it. “And Tyler and Penbrooke, for your demonstration.”
“Whatever,” Tyler snorted, and Penbrooke scowls at Teacher-Man. Callia grabs them both by the wrists, wrists that I notice are traced over in multi-colored sharpies, and drags them out.
“Well, class, we won’t be tying you together or making you share a dorm. But during school and during any school-related activities, you and your partner are expected to remain together. For those of you who are in different classes in the same period, you will alternate each day to remain caught up on your work.”
He stops for a moment, clearing his throat ominously, and even the jocks stop punching each other to listen.
“Natalie Everest and Claire Leonard.” I look around; it’s a blond girl, one of the floaters, and a cheerleader who take their seats in the empty row that had been formed for this purpose.
I hold my breath and zone out, hoping beyond all hope that I’m not stuck with a random jock who’ll punch the hell out of me as a friendly greeting. Beside me, Danny Alister (who isn’t actually a nerd, so I don’t understand why he hangs out with me and my nerdy friends) is chatting quietly to Josh McCain (one of the most popular guys, and also Danny’s boyfriend of sorts) and that lulls me into a sort of trance until I hear my name called.
“Alex Glenn..” There Teacher-Man stops and I frown. Everyone looks at me for a minute, and then he continues.
“Lianthe Constantine and Max Winter,” he finishes uncertainly, looking up.
A general air of ‘what-the-hell-ness’ spreads though the room and I have no idea what to do, so I glance first over at Lianthe; she’s halfway out of her desk, clinging to the edge doubtfully. To my left, Max Winter, who is a semi-jock in the areas of track and swimming, stands up and voices the concern of the general public.
“What?”
“We have an odd number of students in our class, so it’s you, Lianthe, and Alex,” Teacher-Man explains, adjusting his glasses. Max just stares him down in disbelief until Lianthe makes this weird sound that I can’t quite identify and stands up all the way, finding the row of desks that boasts three chairs in a row.
I stand up awkwardly, not wanting to attract any attention, and move as carefully as I can to take the desk beside her. I’m stuck in the middle when Max finally gives in and sits on my other side.
Teacher-Man clears his throat and resumes with his partnering, although there’s no longer the hushed, attentive silence of a few moments prior to my assignment. Lianthe and Max and I are quiet for a moment before Lianthe, suddenly and unexpectedly, turns her body to rest her elbows on my desk.
“This is awkward already and I haven’t even said anything to you guys yet,” she says mildly, raising an eyebrow at Max and I. Max just stares back, unperturbed and leaning his own elbow on the edge of my desk. Suddenly I feel kind of crowded, even though neither of them are really that close to me.
“I have the feeling that it’s going to be awkward, no matter what you say,” he replies smoothly.
I’m painfully aware of the fact that I haven’t said anything yet when their eyes flick to me, pinning me down with warm artificial hazel-orange and cool natural ocean-grass teal stares. “Y-yeah, sure,” I flinch and stutter out, not making any sense at all. Lianthe raises her other eyebrow at me and Max rolls his eyes. Both of them return to their own desks, deciding to leave the poor nerd alone for the moment. Through my embarrassment, I hear Teacher-man saying something about spending the weekend with your new ‘friends’.
I groan and press my forehead to the desk. Once again, I have screwed up.
I am such a nerd.
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But I hope you liked this first chapter, because I’m going to write the second one like...right...now.
