The Sociopath Society

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

A solution? For trouble, yes.

Physics was so ridiculously boring. One of John’s least favourite subjects. But he had to take it if he wanted to become a doctor. It was rather annoying, really. But he would stick at it. At least he got good grades.

Sighing he glanced to his right at Sherlock. The raven haired boy was hunched over his work, brow furrowed and a look of frustration in his eyes. He was almost definitely not writing the essay they were meant to be working on. He was most likely trying to crack the ‘thievery code’ as John had dubbed it. The other boy had barely spoken in the three days since he had got the list. At first John relished the silence he had not been granted in the weeks Sherlock had been his roommate. After a while, though, John had begun to miss the sound of Sherlock’s voice. The deep baritone, beautiful and silky.

Wait, what was he thinking?! Why was he thinking of Sherlock’s voice in that manner?

Frowning, John wrote down a few more words. He was also worried. Just a little, he was beginning to get used to Sherlock’s ways. Prolonged silence didn’t seem beyond him. But still... John was concerned that the younger boy was pushing himself too far. At least physically. Sherlock was eating less and sleeping little. Not good for him at all.

“John! I’ve got it!” Sherlock’s sudden outburst, loud enough to be heard around the entire classroom, caused heads to turn. And the teacher to stand, a whirlwind of anger forming on her face.

“Look!” Sherlock had jumped up, excitement dancing across his perfectly sculptured features, slapping the sheet of paper onto John’s desk. John looked down.  Frowning he glanced at the notes scrawled everywhere in Sherlock’s surprisingly neat handwriting. His gaze then flickered to the circled letters from the list, separated in clustered words.

I               F

O             A

U             L

A             L

John opened his mouth to speak but didn’t get a chance. The teacher had stormed over to their desks, shooting daggers at the both of them.

“Would you care to explain what is going on?” A snigger. Anderson.

Sherlock just ignored the teacher, Mrs Mill, pointing at the letters.

“See, I told you John! It’s a message!” His blue-green eyes stared into John’s own. He looked much like a puppy, eager for attention and praise. It was hidden, though, and John suspected only he could see it. He felt a twinge of sorrow in his heart. Poor Sherlock... ignored most his life, obviously. But now wasn’t the time for praise.

“Great, Sherlock, but now-” Sherlock cut John off. John looked nervously at Mrs Mill who looked ready to kill.

“But who was the message to? It must have been someone on the list...” Sherlock snatched the paper back, staring at it intently. Not even noticing the fuming teacher in front of them.

“Mr Holmes, if you would hand that over.”

Now he noticed her. Looking up Sherlock frowned at the interruption to his thoughts. Then he shook his head in an obstinate manner. John sighed. Brilliant.

“Hand it over.”

“No. It is none of your business.” John tugged at his sandy-blonde hair nervously. They were getting into more trouble by the second. He could feel the smirks of their classmates on his back.

“I think it is as you are interrupting my class.”

“So? It’s not like anyone’s learning anything here. Oh Sherlock. This was it. Goodbye John Watson’s perfect record.

“Mr Holmes! You will leave this classroom immediately and take yourself up to the headmaster’s office. You too, Mr Watson.”

John groaned. Oh, he was going to kill Sherlock. Just wait until they got out of the headmaster’s office...