Warnings: Slash, mentions of child Abuse, Student/Teacher relationship, a lot of swearing, and underage drinking in future chapters. (please understand that while I have researched emancipation some, i do not have experience in this and may get some things wrong.)
Summary: Lucas Benedict, and emancipated, independent student is forceed to take part in counseling in order to satisfy the courts.
Please enjoy the story!
I groaned as I walked into the gym at our school. It was dull, nothing more than white bleachers, wooden walls and floors with a few basketball nets. I hated it. For seniors you got your whole schedule on your first day of school and since I was late to school they had given me study hall and a few simple classes that would allow me to get into the next semester of school.
The way this high school worked was that it had two semesters. The first semester was eighteen weeks and the second was eighteen weeks. I had come in on the fourteenth week and had to wait to go to any classes since I wouldn't get any credit.
But now it was the second semester and I had to go to the most embarrassing class. Gym. I was almost sick with anxiety.
It wasn't like I was overweight and so out of shape that I couldn't do anything. Far from it actually, I had been in football during my whole middle school career. I was small but well toned and if someone asked me to get down and do twenty it would be simple.
No it wasn't that I couldn't do it …it was just that I hated having to be in front of a whole class. I took a seat on the hard bleachers and picked up a book out of my book bag. While I was unzipping the black book bag I discreetly looked around trying to find all of the doors and exits that - if need be - I could run out of if I did something to make a fool out of myself.
Ever since I had moved to this school I had tried to keep to myself. I had always had abandonment issues and so the best way not to get left was to never start in the first place. I spotted a few jocks coming in and barely kept myself from fidgeting as they got closer; I knew I looked like an easy target, and even though I could put up a fight I did not feel like having to clean up the mess.
I picked up the book and started to read, this was my choice way to escape reality. It was easy to believe that you were someone else, to jump into the pages and just leave for a while.
Not long apparently. Especially not at school, I realized as a shrill whistle was blown to signal the start of class. I looked down and saw an older woman looking at all of her students. Another thing I noted was that she was short. And that was a lot coming from my five feet, two and a half inches. She was blonde and holding a clipboard.
I waited for class to start and not a minute later the short woman spoke, "I'm Mrs. Ross and this is my gym. I'll take role and then I will explain everything afterwards." she said and I nearly choked on my amusement. Straight to the point wasn't she?
It took all of ten minutes to complete the role and all of five to see that I was in a gym full of jocks…oh shit. I try not to stereotype, but after being one and friends of them it was kind of hard not to. In my experience, jocks were the type to pick fun at geeks and unpopular people. They talked about everyone, although not as bad as cheerleaders. God, I don't know why I had put so much effort into living up to their standards.
When I was trying to go out with girls and deny my little problem, as my dad liked to refer to it, I dated this cheerleader. Of course, being a football star it was expected, not to mention I was okay looking. I had dark brown(almost black hair) that flipped to the side and was layered around my face, coming down a little past my shoulders. Dark brown eyes and I was part Korean so they were more oval shaped. My lips were dark pink almost red and the bottom was fuller than the top.
So, I tried the girlfriend and all she could talk about was her. Her hair, her friends, her eyes, how her parents were so stupid. It drove me nuts, and when she wasn't talking about herself she was gossiping… I soon found out that-that, excluding her own self, was her favorite subject. The only thing she said that wasn't about her was the one time she complimented me about my lips, she said and I quote, " Your lips are like hot." and that's it. Uck. Needless to say, we did not last long.
So, while not as bad as cheerleaders, I still knew jocks were mean. Hell, I was mean. I had to be. I couldn't make my dad think that I was some wimpy math geek, no that would not due.
Now, where I didn't have to constantly worry about everything, I knew that the years from my past were coming back to haunt me. Instead of being the jock, I was now the geek. SHIT.
That accursed whistle blew again and scared me. I would be willing to swear I jumped about two feet from my seat. "Now, if the boys would follow Dominic to grab your lockers and the girls will follow me." I saw this Dominic and was almost afraid of him. He was huge, a stark contrast standing next to miss Mrs. Ross.
I stood up last, so I wouldn't run into anybody and hopped gracefully down the bleachers. I followed silently down the hallways, trying to take note of all of my classmates. There were about twenty of them and they were all tall. I was, of course, the shortest one.
We cut two corners and arrived at the door to the locker room. Like the gym, it was plain. I entered quietly and looked for an even numbered locker. For years I have had this little issue with odd numbers. I cannot stand them at all!
"Pick a lock out of this box and after you get it come write the locker you pick out along with the lock number on a piece of paper. The Lock combo is taped on the side, so take it off and memorize it." Dominic told us gruffly and with his 'job' done walked out to leave us to our own devices.
I heard some of the boys snickering, so keeping my head down, I picked a lock and wrote the lock combo on my hand. 2-24-12, thank god, they were even. Going to locker number fifty-four I began to unlock my lock. Just as I was pulling the lock open, I saw a fist slam against a locker.
I looked up and sighed, damn, the football captain was staring down at me from his six foot four height. "Are you new?" he questioned almost rhetorically.
"I was a month ago," I stared straight into his eyes to let him see that I was not afraid. I heard snickers behind me, probably because of the images they were formulating of me turned into a pancake.
"Well that explains it," Of course it does, "You wouldn't know that this is my locker… That must be it." He said raising an eyebrow in question.
I was getting pissed, I mean who the hell cares about what locker you get, and I am so rational when I am angry, so of course I just walked away, right? Wrong, I threw my lock onto the locker and locked it. And then I walked away, but not quietly, oh no couldn't do that, so I had to add an, "Of course," while pushing the door open and waving back at the gob-smacked kids.
While I was walking away I decided to think rationally. Meaning, I degraded myself for making enemies I didn't need. Damn, first day of gym and it already sucks.
I headed back to the bleachers, trying not to look over my shoulder, and sat at my seat. The gym was empty and I waited patiently. At least I looked it. I pulled out my book to pull off the nonchalance and the 'fuck you' attitude.
I was looking at the doorway, trying to see if my new 'friend' was walking through the door yet, when I saw my coach talking to another coach. He was younger with shoulder length, layered brunette hair. He was cute. I had heard that there was now two coaches teaching the gym class but I hadn't seen him yet.
They were nodding and I saw them keep looking my way. My stomach dropped. That dude couldn't have been serious about that locker belonging to him. The man started walking towards me. Oh hell, maybe he was.
"Mr.…" he looked at his clipboard, identical to the one Ross had, "Lucas Benedict." he looked at me and I felt my heart drop this time. " We found on your registration that you are emancipated." Deep breaths, put up mask.
"Yes." Simple, that works.
"It says that you must have school counseling to be able to attend, but somehow you didn't have any." Of course you didn't, money speaks to people on a teacher's salary.
"Sir?" I said calmly, waiting for him to pose the question first.
"W-well," yes, he faltered. Time to pounce.
"Well sir, you see I talked to the school psychiatrist and he said that I was fine to attend school." Lie. You liar. You haven't even met the man.
"Yes, alright. I will talk to her and check to see if she has seen you yet, alright?" He faked it, that little meek 'w-well' was planned. Damn.
I blush but don't allow the mask to fall, " Go ahead, Sir." Cue fake, shy smile. His eyes narrow but I don't let it bother me outwardly. Damn conniving teacher.
"Alright then, come by my office tomorrow after school," he says and I hear the unspoken or else. I give him my perfected fake smile, wave and walk off. I planned to just meander around the hall until the bell rang and the school wasn't strict so they wouldn't care, it was why I picked this one in the first place. A concerned gym teacher was not in the plan.
I was not overly worried, I didn't think that I would get into too much trouble, even though I should have had one weeks ago. It was only school and the worst thing they could do would be to give me detention.
Failure to get a psychiatrist was easily bypassed. Pass a fifty under the table and most people would turn a blind eye. A specialist in psychology may not be so easily corrupted but a school counselor would be simple. As the saying goes "those who can't do, teach" and this is a school.