(3 months later)
When Jared entered a room he owned that room, and anyone who forgot that was reminded of it very fucking soon. And so when he walked into English on the first day of term and found someone else sat in his seat-
Shit hit the fan.
“What the fuck you doing in my place dude,” he growled. The boy turned round. Oh, great, some skinny new boy with hipster glasses and in all probability a fondness for pretentious indie music. “Just fuck off,” said Jared, because he was hung over and his head felt like it had a tonne of bricks in it.
But the boy didn’t move.
“There’s a seat here,” he said in a quiet Irish accent, motioning to the one next to him. The desks were arranged in pairs. Jared was utterly silent for a moment, mouth gaping open, and the rest of the class watched in shocked awe.
“I’m not going to sit next to you,” said Jared at last, in a slow voice as if aimed at a very small child. The boy shrugged.
“Fine.”
“So move.”
“Just sit down, Spencer,” came the old Etonian drawl of the teacher. Jared looked up. He hadn’t even seen Eccles come in, but here he was easing himself down into his chair with a stack of ‘Much Ado About Nothing’ copies.
“But sir-”
“Sit down, for Christ’s sake!”
Any other day, Jared would’ve put up more of a fight, but his head was pounding too much and so he threw himself down in his seat with a muttered,
“Fuck you,” to the dickhead sitting in his seat.
“Hi,” said the dickhead softly. “I’m Isaac Hanly.”