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(Y/n) didn't have a lot of major accomplishments in life, but surviving physics with Mr. Brooks was definitely at the top of her list. She mentally patted herself on the back as she went to her next class, conveniently with all her friends with the exception of Jasper, history.
Mr. Wright was continuing the unit from where he'd left off yesterday like usual, which meant she had plenty of time to rest. The (h/c)-haired girl took her usual seat behind the three girls and next to her red-haired friend. He noticed her haggard state and his smile turned worried.
"Mr. Brooks again?" He said knowingly. Reese had the same teacher, only his class was right after lunch. She nodded in confirmation and laid her chin on her folded arms.
"He yelled at me for talking," (Y/n) mumbled with an eye roll. "Are we not supposed to...talk during labs? Then...how do we get anything done...?"
"I'll bet you that guy has no love life," Reese sniggered. "Or he's salty about breaking up with his girlfriend."
Her face turned confused. "Mr. Brooks was in a relationship?"
Isla turned around and gave the two an incredulous look. "Do you think someone with a face like that could get a girlfriend?"
"No, madam," Reese answered.
"That's what I thought."
I wouldn't know, (Y/n) mused as she flipped idly through her textbook. Mr. Brooks needs to take a chill pill. Or eat a cucumber. Or take therapy sessions from Mrs. Richards. It would do him a lot of good.
"Eyes at the front, please," Mr. Wright yelled, his hand hovering in front of the blackboard.
Isla sheepishly turned around and muttered a quick apology. Satisfied, the salt-and-pepper-haired teacher continued with his lesson. A smug look appeared on Reese's face at the sight of the purple-haired girl getting called out on. She flushed pink and shot him an embarrassed scowl, although there was no force behind it.
(Y/n)'s eyebrows shot up as she looked between her two friends. What's up with them? Her gaze caught on Lucinda's sea-blue ones and the blonde winked at her. The (e/c)-eyed girl only grew more confused. What? Do we have some kind of new secret code or something?
She didn't understand why Carmen was waggling her eyebrows at Isla who was still blushing, and Lucinda was smirking while elbowing her. Did something happen? She thought with confusion, turning towards the redhead. But he looked just as clueless as she did.
A note landed on her desk with her name written across it in neat, flowing letters. The 'i's were dotted with hearts, meaning it was written by Lucinda. (Y/n) snatched it up before Reese could take it. He pouted and watched her open it with visible curiosity in his bright eyes.
Don't let Reese see this, was the first thing written across the top. Not sure why, the (h/c)-haired girl complied anyway, angling her body away from the redhead in question. She began reading.
I swear you're even denser than Carms, Lucinda wrote. (Y/n) scowled but decided to ignore the comment for the sake of world peace. Meet us in the third-floor bathrooms at lunch. Isla will tell you everything then.
Okay...? She wrote and handed the note back to the blonde with new questions brimming but none answered. I'm so confused, she thought as she watched Carmen whisper something to the purple-haired girl, making her blush darker. Is she sick or something? Then she blanched. Don't tell me Izzy has a super rare disease or something! Oh no, no, no!
She took out a sticky note from her pencil case and began scribbling something on it. Then she folded it up and tossed it onto Isla's desk. The purple-haired girl unfolded it in puzzlement.
I'll become a doctor for you! The other girl had written. Isla sweatdropped and quickly tried to fix the misunderstanding before she sent the (h/c)-haired girl down the wrong path.
What are you talking about? I'm not sick.
(Y/n) felt relieved at the news, but then confusion set in. Then why are you so red?
Isla blushed harder. How do you notice those things but not remember people's faces?!
Because you're my best friend, Izzy.
What—aww, I love you too.
:D
;)
"And no passing notes, please!" Mr. Wright fixed a stern look at the purple-haired girl. "Isla Myers, is my class that uninteresting?" And then to the shorter girl, "As much as it pleases me to see you awake for once, Ms. White, I prefer your awake hours to be spent listening rather than engaging in idle chatter."
"Sorry...Mr. Wright," (Y/n) apologized for Isla and herself. "It won't happen again."
"Very well. Let's continue from the fourth slide, class..."
For someone of the Winter dorm, Isla was rather shy. She was fine with singing in front of a large crowd or her class but when it came to having a stranger's sole attention on her, she found it hard to talk. Her friends understood this weird quirk of hers and did their utmost best to accommodate it.
"Ha, loser," Reese whispered to the (e/c)-eyed girl, his face smug and tone teasing. "You got yelled at."
"I'm not the one who got sent outside...yesterday," she shot back.
He glowered at her with a light pink dusting across his cheeks in embarrassment. "That was all your fault, (N/n)!"
"How is you getting in trouble my fault? What am I, your keeper?"
"Y-you—I—you made me get in trouble!"
"Really?" She propped her head on her hand and stared at him with a bored look, her eyes hooded and face blank. "Do elaborate. How did I...get you in trouble?" She finished off with air quotes around the last part.
"Don't play dumb! You know exactly what I mean!"
"Do I?"
"See? You're doing it again!"
(Y/n) arched an eyebrow. "Do what again?"
"Do that," Reese made vague gestures with his hands, his eyes darting from side to side as he fumbled for a coherent explanation. "You know, when you act like you don't care for or remember anything—"
"Because I really don't," she said. "Care...I mean."
"W-well, I don't care about you either!" The redhead stammered, a dejected look flashing across his face. He glared down at his textbook as if willing the page to burn up at the spot. He mumbled something under his breath and turned away from the girl.
Did I go too far this time? A little confused but mostly worried, (Y/n) glanced up at Mr. Wright to make sure his back was turned before poking the male's arm. "Reese...? Is this another one of your...tantrums or...what?"
This only made the redhead sulk more. He ignored her and placed his full attention on the salt-and-pepper-haired teacher's lesson.
She gave the pouting male an incredulous look and then sighed. Yup, he's not really mad, the (h/c)-haired girl thought. I guess I'll just mind my own business...otherwise, he'll start crying. A crying Reese is annoying.
(Y/n) redirected her (e/c) gaze to the blackboard at the front of the room, but her mind wasn't completely focused on the lesson. Don't we all love learning about Karl Marx and the Enlightenment? Gosh, there should be an English translation of all these names. Who in their right mind would name their kid "Jean-Jacques Rousseau?" I'm going to call him horse-face. Jean reminds me of horses.
She noticed the red-haired male was sneaking hopeful looks at her with every given chance. When he saw her looking at him, his face morphed into a crossover between a pout and a scowl, and he turned away. Annoyed, (Y/n) raised her other eyebrow and massaged her temples.
Give him five more minutes and he'll give up, she told herself. As annoying as this is...
(A/N: fiVE miNUtEs LaTeR)
Oh joy, he's still doing it.
Isla was completely engrossed in Mr. Wright's lecture; for a hot-blooded person like her, she was surprisingly a big fan of history and took (most of) her studies seriously. Beside her, Lucinda was discretely tapping away on her phone as she chatted with her newest boyfriend. By her fifth boyfriend, the blonde had given up on telling them their names and they had given up on asking her.
Carmen had her head on the table and looked about ready to eat her textbook. (Y/n) could almost see steam coming out of the brown-haired girl's head as she tried to follow Mr. Wright's fast-paced lesson.
Mr. Bryce Wright was a three-time fastest-speaker champion, after all. (Y/n) herself had long given up on trying to follow his pace; sleeping through his droning voice was much more pleasant than using all her brain cells to understand it. And nevermind his handwriting; it looked like an archaic form of chicken scratch.
Reese's pout turned teary when he saw the (h/c)-haired girl paying no heed to him despite his efforts. He tried dropping his eraser and even went as far as "accidentally" kicking her chair. But none of it worked; it was like he was no more than a passing mosquito.
The analogy made him sob internally and his mood worsened.
Seeing his sorry state, she left a little bit guilty. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to deal with him ignoring her by copying him. She took a pastel blue sticky note from her pencil case and hastily scribbled her apology across it.
Wanna go to the movies together on Sunday? Was what she had written.
A face-splitting and blinding smile spread across his face as he read it and nodded furiously, his spirit lifted again. Seeing him so excited, the (h/c)-haired girl couldn't help but spare the energy to smile a little. Despite his personality being the drastic opposite of hers, she had to admit she was quite fond of the dramatic redhead.
But their heartwarming moment was fleeting.
"Alright class, time for my present to you," Mr. Wright removed his glasses and cleaned it. He wiped the sweat from his brow. Teaching for almost a whole hour straight takes a lot out of you. He retrieved a stack of papers from his desk and raised it up.
The whole class followed his actions with wide eyes, their faces paling and mouths falling slack open. They shoved back their chairs, about ready to run.
"Time for a pop quiz!" The man cheered. He was met with a collection of groans and sobs.
"Nooo," a student cried. "I didn't study!"
"Ew, what's studying?" Said another.
"I dunno. I think I ate my textbook last night."
"Bro, what the hell were you doing with your textbook?"
"Studying, obviously. I wanted to know who invented milk and what he was doing with the cow."
Mr. Wright clapped his hands sharply. "Settle down now!" The students complied, their voices lowering to a quiet murmur. "Good. Now I'll hand out the quizzes. You know the procedure; eyes on your paper, no talking, and no starting until everyone gets it."
(Y/n) reluctantly received the heinous piece of paper and glared at it. I hate history...
"Start!" At the command, everyone bent their heads over and began working on the twenty question quiz.
This is pretty straightforward, she mused as she examined the quiz paper. What did Jean-Jacques Rousseau believe in? This is easy; horse face—I mean, Rousseau, her movements were brisk as her hand flew across the page. Believed that society and materialism corrupted human nature. Children should be given total freedom. Oh, this sounds like my kinda guy. Kids need more rights!
The rest of the quiz included similar questions, much to her relief. Thankfully I fell asleep on my book yesterday, she grinned to herself. Now I remember all these people. George Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel who? Communist Manifesto what? Obviously a philosopher of idealism in the Romantic period and the "bible" for communism in 1848.
Knowing the answers, the (e/c)-eyed girl no longer had to resort to writing "magic" or doodling in the answer space, especially since it wasn't a multiple-choice question. Finished, she set down her pencil and turned the quiz paper over. The maiden folded her arms over the sheet and buried her face in them.
Ahh...blissful sleep...a fine way to reward myself after a day's hard work...
She heard Isla finish and let out a satisfied huff in front of her, but she paid it no mind. Carmen had a derp face as she slowly colored in the quiz paper with her pencil. Lucinda wasn't much better; the blonde was doodling in the margins. (Y/n) imagined her answers were the smarta** kind that should be right but weren't.
What Reese was doing, however, she did not know.
Mr. Wright glanced at his timer on his desk every few seconds. "And...time's up! Pencils down, everyone and please pass your quizzes up to the front."
(Y/n) handed her paper to Isla who accepted it with a pleased smile. Lucinda's face was nonchalant as she inspected her nails, while Carmen's looked like she was about to pass out.
Something poked her in the back. She turned around to see the familiar black-haired ze—ahem, boy with his face in his palm looking out the window. His silver eyes flickered to her and he shook his quiz paper towards her.
Urgh, it's the rude one. Struggling to keep her face from showing an unpleasant expression, she took the paper from him wordlessly and passed it up to the purple-haired girl.
"How was it?" Reese suddenly asked, pulling his chair closer to hers.
"Not bad," (Y/n) replied. "Thank me for taking the time...to sleep on...my textbook. I'm so smart."
The redhead rubbed his chin in thought. "Does sleeping on your textbook make you smarter? I think I'm going to try it."
Carmen turned her chair around. Dark shadows hung under her hazel eyes and she had a peaceful look on her face. "Try eating it," she said in a much calmer voice than her usual accented drawl. "I find eating the quiz to be very helpful."
"Girl, you're going to get a disease one of these days," Lucinda wrinkled her nose.
"You're more likely to catch somethin' than I am," the other girl shot back. "Who is it now, that guy—whats-his-face—Andrew? Arol? The Febreze guy."
"It's Axel," the blonde corrected her. "And what does my relationships have anything to do with this?"
"I'm proving a point," Carmen said haughtily. "And it was proven just now."
"Carms, sweetie...are you trying to pick a fight with me?"
"I dunno, you tell me."
"Sometimes I can't tell if those two love each other or hate each other," Reese said fearfully as he watched the two. Lucinda Summers and Carmen Parker were polar opposites like a cat and dog respectively. The blonde preferred letting her male friends (with benefits—I mean, what?) do her work for her, whereas Carmen solved everything with her fists.
One was an eloquent girl with a sharp tongue, and the other was a free-spirited girl unafraid to throw a punch. How they became friends was a story for another day.
(Y/n) watched the two bicker with an indifferent look. She covered her mouth as she yawned and then angled her head towards the windows beside her. The sun hung in the sky in all its blazing glory like a golden orb at the end of a thread. Clouds floated over the sky slowly, passing sluggish shadow creatures that melted off the school and its surrounding trees. Birds flitted freely across the pale blue sky, their harmonious chirping joined with the occasional note from the students lounging on the grass.
To others, the scenery looked like a page right out of a fairy tale book, when that id—I mean, Snow White foolishly bit into the cursed apple and when Cinderella openly trusted the sketchy fairy who called herself her Godmother.
Godfathers lead the mafia. Did that mean Godmothers did too?
Nevermind, that was too much thinking for one day. Her brain hurt. She shielded her face from the light with one hand and refocused on the polished surface of her wooden desk. Bored, the (h/c)-haired girl began counting the lines that ran through the table like little fingers. One line...two lines...four hundred and sixty-three lines...
...I give up.
"Right, (N/n)!" Much to her displeasure, Reese's cheery voice brought her out of her peaceful trance and back to reality. He picked up his chair and placed it closer to her desk. "Why did Mrs. Richards asked you to stay behind?" He asked. "Did anything happen?" Curiosity and concern warred or sovereignty in his bright emerald eyes.
(Y/n) replayed the scenario with the amiable teacher and the haughty blue-haired male in her head. She shrugged as she responded. "It's wasn't anything...important. Remember that...tor—um, tutoring thing?"
"Yeah, what about it?"
"Turns out...Trish-what's-his-name is my tutor." She felt irritation lance through her at the memory of the rude male. "She just wanted to tell us...that."
Reese looked puzzled. "Trish...?" He racked his brain for a face to pair with the name. "A girl?"
"No...he's a guy..."
"What guy is called Trish? Are you sure you remembered it right?"
"Probably not," she admitted. "All I know is that...his name starts with a 'T.' Trish-something."
Her friend shook his head at her and let out a regretful sigh. "I really worry about you sometimes. How are you going to survive a job in the future?"
She wrinkled her nose. "I don't need you telling me that."
"You know, you could really use a filter on your words, (N/n)!" Reese pouted.
"Will you buy me one?" (Y/n) retorted.
"..."
"That's what I thought," she grinned at him victoriously. "Ah, before I forget...a friend of mine offered for us to sit with him at lunch. Is that okay...?"
This caught Lucinda's attention. "A friend? Is he hot?"
Isla gave her an incredulous look. "That's so not what you're supposed to ask first, Lucy," she scoffed. Then to the (h/c)-haired girl, "Is he nice?"
"Naw, y'all mean is he dangerous?" Carmen interjected, unwrapping a lollipop and popping it into her mouth. "Do I know him?"
"Who do you know?" The blonde snorted. "Ooh, is that blue raspberry? Give me one."
"He's dangerous?!" Reese gasped, his eyes going wide. "W-what kinds of people do you associate yourself with, (N/n)?"
"Oh, I don't know"—(Y/n) began ticking a list off her fingers—"Idiots with long, red hair, green eyes, and are in the drama club—"
"Isn't that just an attack on my appearance?!"
Lucinda shoved the redhead's face to a side, her sea-green eyes sparkling with interest. "So? Who is it?"
"Keller..." (Y/n) answered. "From physics. He's on the rugby team." Instantly at that moment, the four pictured a stocky, blond a**hole. Upon seeing the looks on their faces, (Y/n) let out another tired sigh. "No, not that kind of rugby player. Not all the jocks are complete arses...probably."
"Do you mean Keller Campbell?" Isla asked as she tapped her chin. "His brother is in choir with me and Lucy, and he goes on and on about the guy. A little annoying—"
"But cute," the blonde interrupted.
"Whatever floats your boat," Reese muttered.
"—But he might be the same person," the purple-haired girl finished. "Brown hair and brown eyes?" (Y/n) nodded. "Ohh, so I do know him. He's a nice person."
"Are you sure?" Reese said worriedly. "What is he's an undercover spy or a hitman from America wanting to assassinate us all—"
"Shut up, Grayson," Isla snapped. "Who'd pay money to kill you?"
"Wow, rude."
"Thanks, I try."
Carmen snorted and peeled a piece of paper torn out from her textbook off her face. "I don't really care if he joins us or not," she yawned. "Do what you want. (Y/n), let me borrow your pillow?"
The (h/c)-haired girl wordlessly pulled her gray neck pillow off from where it was attached to her bag and handed it over.
"Sankyu," Carmen thanked her before promptly slamming her face into it. "Zzz..."
"I've never seen someone sleep by knocking themselves out," Reese stared at the brown-haired girl with wide eyes. (Y/n) nodded in agreement beside him, her eyebrows raised with astonishment and a mild respect for the other girl.
Sleep is precious. Sleep is invaluable. One does not simply get sleep. One must be prepared to sacrifice anything to understand sleep.
"Guess what?" Mr. Wright suddenly said. He came out from behind his desk with a stack of packets tucked under his arm. "Instead of having a test this week, I decided it would be more fun to assign you guys a project instead—"
"YESSS!" Someone cheered, pumping their fist into the air. "I won't fail this week!"
"This project counts as a test grade," the salt-and-pepper-haired teacher continued as if the student didn't speak. "You'll be working in groups of three maximum, and two minimum. Are we clear?"
(Y/n) and Reese exchanged a look and they smile at each other. It was a silent agreement between the two to always partner up whether it was for projects or field trips. Also since Isla, Carmen, and Lucinda were sure to choose each other, unless the blonde decided to work with a nerd she'd seduced.
The class erupted into excited chatter as friends gripped each others' hands and like the tryhards they were, began making preparations for a project Mr. Wright hadn't even explained yet.
"Take one and pass it down," the teacher said. He handed the packets to each column. "Once you all have decided your groups, let me know. The deadline is the end of this period."
(Y/n) took the remaining two packets from Isla and passed one over her head to the ze—um, the boy behind her. She flipped through hers. It was a series of handouts with various topics at the top of each sheet focusing on their current unit. Under each heading were basic information and history of the event.
"Which one do you want to do?" Reese asked her. "It says we need to write a report on it and make a presentation. Doesn't that sound fun?" For all she knew, he might actually mean it. She never knew when it came to the redhead.
A shadow appeared over her paper before she could answer. She looked up; it was Mr. Wright. "Two peas in a pod, eh?" He chuckled as he regarded the two. Reese blushed and scratched the back of his neck. "Can't say I'm surprised. Is it just the two of you?"
"Yes, sir," (Y/n) confirmed.
"Oh, good. You still have an extra spot." Mr. Wright moved down one row and placed a hand on the back of the black-haired male's chair. "Ms. White, Mr. Grayson. Do you mind adding Mr. Matthews to your group? I imagine he's yet to choose one. Have you, Matthews?"
Leon turned his head from the window, a permanent scowl on his face. "I can do this alone." His voice was curt and rough with a dangerous underlying tone. (Y/n) saw Reese visibly tense at the corner of her eye and she too, felt uncomfortable shivers drag its icy claws up her skin.
"Does alone mean groups of two or three?" Mr. Wright continued, unfazed by the silver-eyed male's dismissive tone. "I think not. If you want to pass this class, Mr. Matthews, you will be a team player and work on this project. Yes? Yes. That's great." Without letting the male retort, he flashed a polite smile at the other two before leaving.
Isla peeked over her shoulder and gave them a sympathetic smile. Reese and (Y/n) stared at each other helplessly.
What have we gotten ourselves into? Was what Reese was thinking. (Y/n)'s thoughts, however, were anything but innocent.
...I hope Mr. Wright knows it's not on me if I accidentally strangle that oompa loompa annoying zebra-face.