Players first day of school

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The sound of the rain was deathening - its harmonic thrumming. She knew that she looked stupid, carrying her art folder over her head, embarrassment coursed through her veins, turning the corner to the gates of her school. She was already late, after having to turn back halfway to retrieve her earbuds from the depths of her duvet, but how could she not? History wouldn't be the same without incoherent screaming to get her through it. Her school had a strict 'no phone' policy, although she was careful to evade detection (with a few close calls here and there.)

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She hurried through the corridors, rehearsing her excuse for being late under her breath. She quickly stumbled into the classroom avoiding eye contact with her teacher, Mr. Humphrey. Slipping him a glance, Y/n realised that he was too consumed in whatever text his laptop screen displayed to even notice her scurrying into the room. Hurrying to her desk, she slipped into her chair, before wacking the lingering rain drops off of her art folder (as if there was anything of value in there anyways.) Her eyes made their way back over to the teacher, double-checking that he was not giving her his '5 minute late' death stare, to which he was not.

Mr. Humphrey was a tall guy, slightly menacing too. He had a sort of blah attitude, he was the kind of person you would never expect to become a teacher, but here he was, bright and early at 9am. Whatever he was reading on his laptop, seemed to put him in a mood as he made a loud groan before flicking through what could only be presumed to be emails from whoever has the unfortunate job of keeping him in the loop. Begrudingly, he began to scrawl a few garbled notes on a scrap of paper on his desk.

The door began to open. Y/n sighed in relief at the thought of someone being later than her to lesson. At least now if the teacher had realised that she was late, his anger would be directed at this student, and she would walk away with a stern talking-to after class at worst. The unfortunate late-comer was a rather short boy that Y/n did not recognise. Everything about him screamed 'incel,' from the way he was cloaked in a tatty grey hoodie, to his side-fringed dark hair. The whole class attention turned to him, accompanied by the familiar murmur of a new student, including the teachers. Reluctantly, Mr. Humphrey stood up and trudged towards him, prodding the boy to introduce himself.

Y/n listened intently as he began to speak. That was until he proclaimed his name to be 'Player.' Yep. Incel. She sunk her face into her hands, battling the second-hand embarrassment, attempting to drone out his voice until a cacophony of buzzing and ringing erupted from his bag. She stifled a sneer with her hands clasping around her mouth and nose as he excused himself from the room to put his devices in his assigned locker. 

The room remained dead-silent, but the air was thick with pursed lips and disconcerted looks; the lesson began promptly, and for once Y/n was glad to hear the teacher pontificate about the not-so 'wonderous world of history,' as he called it. After a few minutes Player sauntered back into the classroom and made his way to a seat in the middle. Right next to Y/ns. She could hear him scrape the chair as he pulled it out. It took every inch of self-control in her body not to whip her head around and give him a death stare, but she remained still, taking deep breaths to centre herself. It's not like this was the first time she was confronted with a new student at the desk beside her. It had been a revolving seat of weird personalities and strong smells. And she wasn't expecting this to be the last one.

Player turned his head towards her and smiled. Y/n spun around and tilted her head, giving him a half-smile and a restrained "Hi," as she resisted the urge to laugh. It was rather awkward as Player wasn't exactly expecting her to respond verbally, and he wasn't the best at actual communication. He sort of stared at her for a moment before opening his mouth so say something, but nothing came out. Y/n was officially creeped out at this point, quietly turning back around to face the board. Player remained incredibly embarrassed. If he could talk to Team Red and his other online friends all day, it shouldn't be this hard to talk to one classmate?

Player X Fem Reader [Carmen Sandiego]Where stories live. Discover now