Our Shot (LAMS school au)

Chapter 3: Conscience to the Wind

I threw my bag down on the mattress that I supposed was mine as Aaron and Thomas continued to bicker while James continued to clear his bed of his friend's unending junk.

I pulled open an empty drawer, and began to pull the clothes I had out of it when I realized the room had gone silent. I turned my head to find all three pairs of eyes on me. "Is something wrong?" I asked, closing the drawer.

Thomas tilted his head slightly. "That's everything you have with you?"

"It's everything I own," I answered truthfully, and as the three of their jaws dropped I continued to dig through the bag.

"Everything?" James, who had surprisingly stopped his cleaning, repeated.

"I'm here on scholarship, remember?" I started, become slightly agitated, "for free."

Thomas raised an eyebrow, probably at my tone, but luckily James swooped in to ease the tension. "Let's hit up the library, yeah?" He began.

"The library sounds perfect," Aaron agreed, rubbing his forehead, "I still have that summer work due for class tomorrow."

"Not for AP Composition, is it?" I asked, looking up at him, and he nodded.

"I finished that essay weeks ago!" I exclaimed, getting up and taking a seat on the bed.

He was dumbstruck once more. "They only sent out the assignment two months ago!" He exclaimed, and I shrugged, "Would you let me take a look at yours?"

My eyes widened. "You mean... cheat?"

"Please, man?" He begged, "I've only gotten past my thesis! It'll take me days!"

I looked at the ground. My conscious told me to refuse his request, but after years of fending for yourself in poverty your conscience becomes... lax. "Let's go to the library," I nodded, "You can borrow my essay then."

"Yes!" He hissed, and dragged his backpack out from under his bed, "Get off your asses, lads."

"Now? I'm not done yet!" James complained, gesturing to the pile of junk (that was still very prominent) but was overruled by both Thomas and Aaron, who pulled him up from his bed, Thomas balancing two textbooks in one arm and putting the other one around my shoulder.

"Maybe you should lead the way," I told them sheepishly as Burr dragged James out the door, the latter still complaining about how his bed had remained unmade.

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"I owe you one," Aaron assured as I slid my essay toward him reluctantly.

You need to make friends, I continued to tell myself, do whatever it takes.

The four of us were sat around a table in the library, accompanied in the large room only by a few kids reading in a separate corner. James, or 'Mads' as Aaron called him, was reading a book, Tom was typing silently and furiously on his computer, and Aaron was now 'examining' my completed essay.

That left me to sit on my own laptop, fiddling with work I had already finished. "What are you working on?" I asked Thomas innocently after a while.

He narrowed his eyes slightly at me, the rest of his expression blank, but in the end tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling; I guess I had broken his concentration. "It's for the club," he explained dismissively, looking at me with an odd expression; it looked like indecision.

"What club?" I asked, but Thomas had already returned to his work and seemed determined not to be distracted again.

"Debate club," James answered for him, "He's in it. It's quite important to him."

I nodded. "How do I join?"I asked quickly, and the three of them looked up at me as if I had spoken a foreign language just then, so I continued, "My scholarship requires at least one extracurricular."

"Talk to Washington, probably," James explained helpfully, Aaron and Thomas now staring at him, "He runs it."

I nodded, and returned to my work, as did the others; but after a few minutes, we were interrupted again, this time by Jefferson. He tapped James on the shoulder a few times, catching my own attention, but Aaron ignored the two of them.

"Look who's here," Thomas hissed, pointing towards the entrance to the library, and I craned my neck to see, as did James.

There were three of them; boys, probably juniors, like me.  There was a tall one, his hair pulled back into a ponytail; he looked oddly similar to Thomas.

The other two that followed him were talking quietly, and I couldn't help but notice the one with the long, curly hair was even shorter than I was. Before he began to look about the shelves, he scanned the library; when his eyes landed on the table I was sitting at he scowled briefly at the people with me before my eyes met his and his expression cleared. His head tilted to the side slightly, and I could tell he was confused as to why he didn't recognize me, sitting with several people he clearly did not approve of.

I heard Thomas snicker beside me. He had looked up from his work once more to laugh about something with James and Aaron. "What is it?" I asked, confused, "Who are those boys?"

Thomas didn't answer my question, but looked past me at the same group, now leaving with a pile of books in the arms of small one, that he continued to find so amusing. "Look at them," he joked to himself, "What a bunch of faggots."

I temporarily had to fight from choking on the air in my own throat, but the other two observing didn't seem surprised; Aaron still wouldn't look up from his essay.

"What did you just say?"