"Fire is the beginning of new life."
"Why do ye smell like fire?" Tyler gives his foster-brother a look of concern as he passes.
"I-I do?" Jim sniffs his shirt. "Huh."
The elder boy frowns, wearing a brief expression of suspicion. He can hear the falsity in his voice, the near unnoticeable waver in his tone.
While he's certainly unhappy that he doesn't feel comfortable telling the truth of what happened last month with whole hospital incident, he refuses to display his annoyance. Barbara is already doing that and it's ruined the entire atmosphere of peace that once dwelled within the walls.
He's determined to keep peace with the lad and his friends. It's not particularly hard when he spends every waking hour in the library.
But today, he's been asked to sit through a history class. A history class that isn't being taught by Mr. Strickler.
"Sàbhail mi bhon chràdh do-ruigsinneach seo," he mutters into his hands. "Leis a 'bhan-dia thriple, sàbhail mi."
Hushed whispers surround him, originating from the small groups of girls. If he were to look up, he would find several pairs of lovesick eyes staring at him with admiration. According to them, he's the most attractive male at Arcadia Oaks High.
Not the kind of attention he enjoys.
"Where do you think Strickler is, Tyler?"
The boy raises his head to meet the speaker's eyes. "Why'd ye ask?"
"You were his fave," she claims, twisting around in her seat.
He hums at this, considering his words before letting them loose. "If he were anywhere, it'd be in Arcadia. But seen as he ain't, I'd say he's somewhere in the tropics. Probably down in South America."
Mary smiles at him, keeping her gaze on him for a few moments before turning back around with a dreamy sigh.
Tyler snorts quietly, pulling out several textbooks from his knapsack and placing them on his desk. His fingers brush the decorated feather blade as he closes his bag again and he finds himself running his thumb over it.
It reminds him of his mentor, though doesn't know why, and he feels quite pleased with himself for utilising it in this way. He had been very careful when painting on the encircling pattern, ensuring that there was no shake in his hands.
He shakes his head softly, returning his gaze to the front of the classroom where Coach Lawrence is performing stretching routines.
"Since Strickler's a no-show, I'm subbin' in. We got some book-learnin' to do," he explains, stretching out his spine. "That means you too, Reynolds."
The boy gives him a neutral expression and slams his history textbook open, flipping it up to prove to the teacher that he's reading the correct material. His bored look doesn't cease.
"Okay, people, who can tell me what happened in the year 1989?" Coach Lawrence's eyes widen slightly in panic when he receives no response. "No, seriously. I don't remember. It was a crazy year."
A bang echoes through the classroom as Tyler's head drops on the desk. "Dreya 'ave mercy."
《《》》
"Hullo, Claire," he smiles lightly at the young girl as she walks by with Jim and Toby.
"Oh, hi, Tyler!" she chirps cheerfully, giving a small wave.
YOU ARE READING
《Dogears》Trollhunters/Merlin
Fanfiction"All that glitters is not gold, but all that is pure most certainly is." The Dark Ages are over. Camelot has been lost. Killahead is scattered. Those that remember recall bright days filled with the laughter of young boys, one with a crown on his he...
