Prompt: This wasn't actually requested but I just felt like writing an older Beckett at the Academy, so here's the smol angry bean at age 17
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Beckett Townsend snapped his yo-yo into his hands and tucked it away in his bag. He was banned from having it in class, but he'd be damned if he went anywhere without it. It calmed him down to do tricks. And, well, he'd be lying if he said he didn't get satisfied when someone cringed away from it.
"Ready, Beck?" Tessa stepped up next to him.
Beckett smoothed down the front of his maroon vest and nodded. The two took off towards their class together, joining the stream of blue and maroon vests on the sidewalks.
"Think Sternberg will still hold a grudge for yesterday?" Tessa asked.
"Don't ask dumb questions," Beckett said.
"I wonder if he'll drag your best friend in today," Tessa said thoughtfully.
"I hope he does." Beckett smirked.
The two entered the building their classes were in, maroon vests moving through the hallways. They went down to their first period class, heading into the room.
Tessa let out a low whistle. "Boy, was I right."
"For once, I'm glad you were," Beckett said.
A boy in a blue vest sat at the head of the classroom, talking casually with their teacher. Mr. Sternberg noticed Beckett and Tessa walking in and his mood plummeted at the sight.
"You think he'd be used to us by now," Beckett said, ignoring the look they were receiving. He went to his seat and dropped into it.
Tessa took her seat next to him. "They're just so fond of you, Beck."
Beckett propped his elbow on his desk, turning his palm up and letting his chin rest on it. Kids were filing into the room, taking their seats and talking to their friends before class started.
Beckett hated classes, found them absolutely boring. But he came daily, pissing off his teachers with his perfect attendance and high grades. They wanted him to be the trouble they made him out to be, but he was the top of his year.
"All of you shut up! Class is starting," Mr. Sternberg snapped, clapping his hands together to get their attention. "Leon will be helping with class today."
Beckett fought off another smirk. They dragged Leon in when they needed help keeping the classroom under control.
It was almost sad, really. Leon wasn't as dreadful as he could've been. Really, he was a patient kid with a contradictory air of exasperation. He was intelligent, with grades just a fraction behind Beckett's.
The two could've tolerated each other, maybe even struck up some form of friendship. But, unfortunately, their vests separated them. That, and Leon's family.
Leon Constance was the youngest son of the Academy's headmaster. The fact that he was the youngest was probably what spared him from being as awful as his oldest brother, though. His oldest brother was first born and therefore first in line to inherit the role of headmaster, meaning his father had groomed him to be cold, calculating, and manipulative. He could pinpoint any weakness and tear someone down with the right words.
