Chapter #2

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We lay there in complete silence, hours after our vicious argument. The lights are out and we're both trying and failing to fall asleep. We haven't spoken yet, which leaves me with the last word. It doesn't happen often, and I quite like the feeling of it. A victorious simmer in my chest, wordlessly reminding me that I won this small battle. Between Baz and I, I came out on top. It's nice to know that things go my way once in a blue moon. Like maybe there's someone somewhere that said, "that kid needs a break. Let's give him this one." I smile in the darkness.

"Snow." There goes my last word.

"I don't wanna hear it."

"We should leave."

"What are you on about, Baz?" I mutter.

"We should leave Watford and pursue that thing. It already took so many lives in such a short amount of time. Imagine what it's really capable of. We need to stop it before things get much, much worse. What do you say, Snow?" Baz proposes.

"I say you're an arse and a prick and the last person I want to run away with." Even if that's not entirely true. It's not like Baz knows that.

"Merlin, Morgana, and Methusela, will you wake up? This isn't about us! This is about the whole World of Mages, for Crowley's sake! We have to do something," he states.

"I'm not leaving my last year here at Watford. This is the last year it will be my home, and I'm not wasting it gallivanting around with anyone -- especially not you."

"If we don't go, there won't be a World of Mages or a Watford to come back to! Don't you understand? You're supposed to be our almighty Chosen One. Our savior. So save us. I'll help you. We can save the world together. Come with me, Simon. Because I'm going with or without you. I may not be chosen, but I can still do my part," he finishes.

"You called me Simon," I say dumbfounded.

"Yeah, you dim-wit. Get over it. It's your name isn't it? Now are you coming or not, Snow?" Baz demands.

"Yeah," I breathe. "Yeah, I s'pose I am."

He lets out an audible breath. "I really didn't think that'd work," he adds with a chuckle.

"You know, neither did I, so don't push it. When are we leaving?"

"As soon as we're packed. I'd leave the school uniform, if I were you. Draw too much attention," Baz advises.

"Well that's all I got save for some trackie bottoms, so I'll probably have to bring it along regardless. Anyways, it's one of the only things that fit me properly."

"You can wear some of my stuff. I'll pack clothes for both of us. You gather up some food," he says, switching on the light.

"Hate to break it to you, but the dining hall isn't open at the moment. It isn't exactly mealtime," I comment sarcastically.

"Top drawer of my desk, Snow."

I make my way over to his desk to find a load of stashed snack foods in the drawer. Without question, I start shoveling the food into a backpack. Baz is right yet again -- we need to do something and fast. Eighth year is optional anyways. A bang at the door successfully scares the shit out of Baz and me just before Penny bombards her way into our room.

"Bunce," Baz says, nearly speechless, at the same time I say, "You shouldn't be able to do that, Penny!"

"Yeah, well you can't run off without me. I mean, at least tell me when you're going to run off with Baz of all people! Wait, does he know? Like, about -- "

"Shut up, Penny," I growl.

"I'll take that as a 'no', then"

"Is nobody going to acknowledge the fact that she just waltzed in here? That shouldn't even be possible. There are wards against this," Baz fumbles. It's so rare to find him surprised and speechless, I just have to relish in the moment.

"Hello, Basilton Grimm-Pitch. I'm Penelope Bunce, girl of the impossible. Nice to properly meet you," she says cockily, extending a hand.

"We've met before, Bunce. We have practically all of our classes together," he says, ignoring her hand altogether.

"I said met properly. Infinitely different, believe you me." Baz merely rolls his eyes at this. "You know I'm not wrong!"

"Both of you, stop. Baz and I are leaving soon, and we need to be as prepared as humanly possible. Idle chatter surely doesn't help that. Penny, If you're coming with, you're going to have to seriously consider the risks. We'll have to leave before dawn. Everything clear?"

I get a, "Who put you in charge?" from Baz, and a "risks considered and accepted," from Penny.

"All set then. Let's get working," I declare, letting my leadership instincts take over. Not that I have much of them.

We all set to work, me scrounging around for more food, Baz rifling through his closet for clothes for three, and Penny looking to find any useful gadgets and gizmos. After a few minutes of this, Penny strategically works her way over to me without raising  Baz's suspicion.

"So Baz doesn't know about, well, you, yet? Honestly he'd have to be unbelievable thick for that to be the case," she whispers. The thing about Penny's whispers is that they aren't really whispers at all. They're more like really hoarse shouts.

"I can hear you, you know. What don't I know? I can tell you that I know a lot about Simon, so I'd be surprised if there was something I was oblivious to. That's Snow's job, after all," he snips. "And, for the record, I am not thick."

"Baz, that's mean and stupid, and really fuckin' creepy. What's that phrase they teach kindergartners? Oh yeah: think before you speak. Might wanna consider that ever once in a while, to, you know, not sound like a stalker with a vengeance," I quip back.

"Oh," Penny says, stretching out that one syllable into what could be a thousand words. "That's how," she giggles, quirking a knowing eyebrow in my direction. God, I hate this girl sometimes.

I decide to play it like Pen didn't say anything. "And, apparently, you know everything about me, so I shouldn't have to tell you whatever it might have been that Penny and I were talking about," I say smartly and nonchalantly, spinning his words to meet my advantage. He can never know how I feel about him. In less than a year I'll never see him again and none of it will matter. It'll kill me, but at least he'll never have the faintest idea about me and how I obsess over him almost constantly.

I realized what it was 5th year. Everything I did or said or thought was completely centered around Baz. My mind was filled with his sharp features and silken hair and his expert skills at football and classes. Whenever I daydreamed in class, his face clouded my thoughts. Sooner or later I took the hint and pieced it all together. The fact that I'm not straight like I thought. The face that I fancy Baz, the person who hates me more than anyone -- even more than the Humdrum or whatever new thing facing me is. A person who -- to my knowledge -- is is as straight as his perfect posture.

A/N: Okay, so I decided to cut off chapter 2 here, because afterwards there's not a great pausing place. I've got my fingers crossed that you all like it. If you find any grammar mistakes, or things that contradict the book (other than the general AU stuff, i.e., Simon being aware of his feelings for Baz), TELL ME SO THAT I CAN GET MY LAZY ASS TO CORRECTING IT. 

Thanks,
Unfortunate Seven

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