Hazel POV:
My thoughts on Gotham Academy?
It's an infestation of rich kids.
The teachers seem rather dull, the students seem kinda lifeless, their eyes glazed over as they sit and do their work and study with max intensity. The girls are all trimmed and pruned up, the boys are well dressed, polished and for the most part polite, and it is made very clear that I am the only one that's okay with being rough around the edges while everyone else hides it away in fear of judgement. I don't mind. I pity the students stuck in their little Barbie worlds forced to play the game of achieving perfection.
I cruise through the day with only a few stumbles in my steps as I try to navigate this castle of a school, ignoring the voices that try to poke a thorn into my side.
Some students smile in my direction, a well meaning attempt to be friendly, while others point out my shoes and compliment them. A few are even audacious enough to point at my sexy Jordans and call them an 'abomination to the world of fashion' or some shit, but I just laugh it off, ask for their name and memorize it in my head so I could write it down in the first Death Note I find.
The bell rings, and a feeling of both dread and anticipation settles over my stomach as I realize what it signifies.
The hell or heaven of high-school life, the determining factor whether or not you're cool or a loser, the hour where students are mostly free to summon Satan, perform an exorcism, start an internet trend, murder the group snitch, have an orgy in the bathroom, sell their souls on Ebay and sacrifice themselves to the seventeen moon gods all while eating turkey sandwiches.
Lunch.
I hated cafeteria food, so Ma had taken the liberty of making me a lovely, gourmet, absolutely delicious....
Lasagna.
God, I love lasagna.
It's like the heavenly pasta cake of God bestowed upon us as a blessing. And Ma can take that blessing and make it taste a thousand times better because Ma's lasagna, is the BEST lasagna.
I would probably marry it!
Then again, I'd marry any food in general, if it was a living, sentient being.
Unfortunately, I don't think that's exactly legal...
I walk in through the large cafeteria doors, the headphones over my ears playing a pretty old bop that I subtly bounce my feet along with, looking over the throng of students in grey and red uniforms, chatter, laughter and the smell of food in the air.
There are cliques, the prissy girls piled around the table in the middle, the jocks over by window being rambunctious, the study nerds spread out over by the far wall with books all over the tables. Everyone else is just mixing around with others, sitting down in their specific friend groups or walking around chatting.
The food smells pretty good, but as I walk over by the lunch line, I spot a kid put down a twenty buck bill and get no change, in return for a small bowl of mac and cheese.
Instantly my blood boils. It's a total scam!
Why was mac and cheese here $20? That's a f*cking crime against humanity- mac and cheese can only be 20-f*cking-dollars when there are magical unicorn tears and the blood of my enemies sprinkled into it! What the actual sh*t was wrong with these hoes? My mind starts racing, thinking up ways to torture these stupid ass lunch ladies for charging so damn much, before I stop and realize I was going off again, on the edge of having another episode. My fingers shake, and I take a breath to calm myself.
(Oh, I'm sorry. Did I not tell you I have severe ADHD? It's kinda a side effect from the other thing I kinda have. Whoops, it kinda slips my mind that sometimes I'm a complete hyperactive freak, you'll have to excuse me, désolé, very sorry)
Looking away from the atrocity, I turn on my heel to decide where to sit. The spoiled brat I dissed this morning- I later found out her name was Victoria- glares angrily at me from across the room, whispers something to the revoltingly large group of boys drooling over her, and points at me.
I don't exactly want to get beat up on my first day of school, so I duck behind the lunch line, and head over to the windows. Jocks make great human shields. Nice, sturdy, and easy to slip past.
They don't notice me approaching until I sit down just one table beside them and pull out my lunch.
"Hey!" One of them looks at me, shoving his dirty blond hair aside. "You're the newbie, right? The one that dissed Victoria on her first day?"
Instantly all the jocks' eyes are on me. I smile sheepishly, pulling off my headphones. "Uhm, yeah I guess?"
Cue a moment of silence and me wondering if these guys (and girls, there were several female jocks) were also under the reign of Victoria and if they were gonna beat me up. It was tensest moment of my life, having seven boy jocks and two girl athletes stare at me, possibly figuring out the best way to detach the limbs from my body.
Suddenly they break out into grins, talking over one another.
"You got guts!"
"Dude, you've been here for like a few hours and you're already my idol!"
"God, it was about time that petty b*tch learned a fucking lesson."
One of them squeals louder than the others. " Come sit with us!" She says, scooting over. I am not one to deny new acquantaincing, so I picked up my lunch and plopped down next to the strawberry-blond girl. My fingers drum against my thigh and I force myself to stop, but they don't listen. Stupid hand.
"My name's Grace." She smiles. "That's Olivia, aka Livy, and there's George, Mick, Holt, Corbin and his boyfriend Grant, and the Dolby twins."
"Well, I'm Hazel, great to meet y'all." I smile at them, greeting all of them.
"Where you from, Haze?" Corbin asks, his blue eyes scanning me up and down. A blue haired boy- who I can assume is his boyfriend by the way he clings to his arm- flashes a curious look over at me.
"The dopey little streets of beautiful Los Angeles." I twirl my fork around, slowly eating my lasagna as I start warming up to them.
"Oh, I've always wanted to go there! What's it like?"
"Pretty, beachy, and boiling hot."
"Nice."
"Most of us here are Gothamites born and raised, only Livy and Jon Kent-nice kid- is from Metropolis. Jon hangs out with the Wayne, though, otherwise we'd be pretty chill friends." The boy named Holt spoke. "Not many new kids come here, especially not from across the country. What brings you here?"
"Promises of a better life, I guess." I shrug.
"Gotham is literally the most notorious city in the world. There's lotsa trouble here y'know." Livy chuckles.
"I know that. L.A. got too boring, I guess. We were planning on leaving the city a while ago, me and Ma, y'know, and when I somehow got the scholarship here she instantly packed up my life and was super excited to come. Guess she didn't really care about the crime rate, 'cause next thing we knew, we were on our flight to GC Airport. We know how to handle our way with trouble, I cause enough of it to be well acquainted with it."
"I can tell. You seem pretty brazen. No offense." Grant smiled.
"None taken." I reassure, finishing up my lasagna.
"Hey, you seem pretty dope-" George breaks the awkward silence.
I chuckle."Uh, thanks buddy..."
"-wanna skate with us today? I saw your rollerskates- they're awesome."
"You guys skate too?!"
Corbin grins, slinging his hand around Grant. "Only losers like Holt and Mick don't."
The two boys stick their tongues out at the couple. I laugh.
"Sure, what time?"
"Meet up later at the school arch? 4?" George points out the window at the large stone arch that soared against the sky, the words Gotham Academy engraved into it along with a buncha Latin words.
"Aight." I grin, fist-bumping them.
Soon the conversation gets more lively as Grace peppers it with jokes. I smile, bantering along, ignoring the death glares Victoria sends me from across the room, when all of a sudden the room quiets down considerably as the cafeteria door opens and shuts.
"Oh damn." Grace muttered, a look of intense thirst over her face.
"What?"
"It's him."
I crane my neck around and spot a freaking Adonis of a boy, standing next to a kinda familiar face, a boy with curly dark hair and bright blue eyes. He was in some of my classes. Cute and kind kid, named Jon Kent, I think.
And if he was Jon Kent, then according to Holt, the hot dude was the Wayne.
A rich, pretty boy, probably spoiled rotten, probably a perfectionist and definitely arrogant. Nothing I haven't dealt with before.
I take a few seconds to admire the view, before snapping some sense into myself and scoffing. I don't need whatever bullsh*t the pretty boy has to offer. Every rich kid I've ever dealt with has been the same- pretentious, backstabbing, and plain damn annoying.
Sure he looked like a supermodel in the ugly-ass Gotham Academy uniform, and sure, the kid had muscles for decades, but I didn't want to waste my time crushing on a boy that every girl in the school crushed on.
It was stupid.
Plain stupid.
Grace and Livy start fantasizing.
"God, he's so cute."
I raise my eyebrows, (whether in agreement or annoyance, I don't know), turning away and sipping at my water.
This school year's going to be interesting.
DAMIAN POV:
"T-t, you forgot your lunch money again, Kent?"
"No I didn't!" He whines in a childish, pathetic voice. " Mom packed me lunch!"
I roll my eyes, something which I've sadly been doing much more often after being stuck with this idiot.
"Hey, wanna sit down? They're all staring again." Kent meekly said, shrinking into his turtleneck sweater. It was true, the idiots were all staring at us again. I understood that they didn't see such male perfection before I came into the school, but usually they went overboard and made Kent uncomfortable.
"Alright. I will grab my lunch first. You get a spot."
Kent skitters off to the side as I head up to the lunch line, which has seemingly shortened after my arrival. Paying for a sandwich and a juicebox, I head back over to the table Kent managed to snag, empty save for him and his food.
"Mrs. Kent made you casserole?"
Kent grins. "Are ya jealous?"
"T-t. Of course not."
I eye the casserole just a bit before turning away and biting into my sandwich. Kent sighed, and after a small moment of silent eating, he pipes up again.
"I have the new kid in three of my classes. Her name's Hazel."
"I know."
Kent waggles his eyebrows. "Chances are, you'll have her in one of your classes too. She's in our grade.... look, she's sitting with the jocks..."
Indeed there she was, socializing with the lowest of the low, the numbskulls of the school, the Gotham Academy jocks. Whatever they lacked in smarts they made up for in stupidity and a pathetic amount of brawns. They were decent at sports and had decent grades; God's meager attempts at creating some sporty kids. It really said a lot about her as a person for her to mix with them. Perhaps she was merely as 'decent' as they were.
"I am not interested in the least, Kent. Come on, let us finish our homework so we're free after school." I mutter, pulling out the small advanced math package I'd gotten. Kent takes another bite of his casserole and pulls out his own homework.
"Early patrol?" He whispers over to me, a giddy look over his face.
"T-t. Fine."
After a quiet bit of scrawling down our answers to the homework (and me explaining to Kent why you had to simplify fractions), the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Involuntarily, my eyes flick up to see the Hazel girl getting up from the jocks table with a smile, her hair bouncing around her shoulders as she gathers her things.
****************************************
"Good afternoon, class."
Mr. Barkas smiles as the students start filing into the room one by one through the front door. He takes attendance as they come in, checking off their names with a blue pen if they were present.
Barkas was the only good English teacher in the whole school. He often gave us puzzles to work our minds and let us choose the books we were to present on. He didn't resort to the simple essays and assignments and rather gave us work that actually stimulated our minds. Not to mention, he sounded quite like dear Pennyworth, having come from Manchester, England.
I sigh, tapping my pen against the desk, eyes scanning the room for escape routes as per habit.
Seven windows, a backdoor, a vent up in the bottom left corner of the ceiling, the front door. I look around and mentally note every object that can be used as a weapon.
Pencils, stapler, hole puncher, my textbooks, coffee mug, curtain, window pane, scissors, exacto knife, chair, the small flag pole in the back corner of the room-
"Hey, Damian." A feminine voice snaps me out of my train of thoughts and I irritably look over at the source.
A girl I've never spoke to before, giggling obnoxiously as her eyes rake me up and down.
I scoff. I don't have time for this.
I turn away with a click of my tongue, leaving the girl standing there, waiting for my response. The class had all filed in and were settling down in their respective seats when the girl finally realized she wasn't going to get anything out of me.
"U-uh, okay Damian! Good talk!" She skittered off, and finally I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding in.
"Alright class! Everyone is here and-" Mr. Barkas smiled, looking over at his clipboard at the small pink slip of paper. "Well! We have a new friend among us today!" He grabbed the slip of paper, reading it aloud. "Ms. Cotello, if you would be as so kind to come up here and introduce yourself?"
My head instantly snaps around, spotting the new kid two seats behind me.
How did I not notice her entering the room?
I never miss anything like that.
She gets up, scurrying to the front of the room and stands straight and tall next to Barkas. She grinned over at the class, a hint of amusement sparkling in her brown eyes.
"Hiya! My name is Hazel Cotello, and it's great to meet you all."
Barkas gestured at her to continue.
"I, uh, got a full scholarship here, which answers your many questions as to why I'm here in the middle of October. I come from L.A, as some of you might be able to guess, and just got in the city a week ago."
She explained, rocking back and forth on her heels. I analyze her even further, finally getting to see her details, looking her up and down.
A twitch to her lips and the way she didn't stay still for a minute either meant she had some sort of hyperactivity disorder or she drank an excessive amount of caffeine. Her fingers drummed against her thigh as she spoke, her face had sun freckles sprinkled sparsely over it and the way she stood straight up spoke much about her confidence.
Her eyes were peculiar,not in appearance, but by what was behind them. They were the color of tree bark under the LED lights, but behind them was a mix of amusement, something calculative and something intriguing that I couldn't put my finger on- and her eyes were looking directly at me.
Dammit. She'd caught me staring.
I look away rapidly, a very faint heat flushing through my face at the thought of being caught. I set my jaw firmly, unable to believe I felt embarrassment course through my veins when I was the Prince of Gotham, the heir, the Son of Batman, Grandson of Ra, a Wayne, a Robin . None of the above would feel embarrassed at such small, trivial occurrences.
I contemplate my malfunctioning, wondering if I should ask Grayson about it.
Looking up once more after making my decision, I spot Hazel looking back at me, a huge smirk gracing her features.
Seeing that I had looked up, she winked and once more I felt the malfunction of embarrassment take over.