'Dreary days drag,' Arthur alliterated in his head, waiting for yet another installment of the only class he shared with the most disruptive student in the entire history of this particular high school.
At least, Arthur had dubbed him with that particular title, considering how many detentions the boy had already served through his high school career— and still only a sophomore! It wasn't like he hadn't been looking at the records because he was concerned that Jones, Alfred F was about to earn himself a suspension because he couldn't stop 'cutting up' in the remedial math that Arthur had to take before he could graduate and get into university.
Of course he couldn't be interested in the friendly and sunshine-y personality that tended to make classes more interesting with his antics. Nor was Arthur interested in Jones's bright smile, or the way that the younger boy had hit a growth spurt over the summer and added six inches and a bit of muscle to a wiry frame. Puberty had been more than kind to Alfred F Jones.
(Arthur had been pretty sure he was straight, until he saw Alfred Jones walking back into the school— but maybe he was just gay for— no. He wasn't interested. Clamp down on that thought. He's only a sophomore.)
Dull routine was always disrupted, and today was no exception. It almost seemed as though it was going to remain dull, as Alfred's seat was empty at the beginning of class— but that was not unusual. Arthur kept an eye on the clock as the teacher began the lesson, and noted that the door flew open precisely one minute before the tardiness would warrant a detention.
No text, no notebooks, only a charming grin, and a babbled explanation that Arthur didn't hear as he made note of the fact that yet again, Alfred had managed to time himself to avoid that treacherous pink detention slip that would earn him a week's suspension. It was nearly deliberate— and the way he finally made it to a seat where he was given a pencil and a piece of paper by one of the girls sitting in front of him— momentarily, Arthur wondered if Alfred even bothered to take notes.
As though he felt the eyes on him, Alfred glanced in Arthur's direction, briefly meeting his gaze with one that didn't seem quite as happy as the grin on his face would indicate.
It was only a moment, though, and quite swiftly, Arthur snapped to attention and began taking notes on algebraic expressions. Jones could wait. And even if he was sneaking looks over to where Alfred was studiously not taking notes, he would have to wait until after class to talk to him— if indeed he was going to talk to him.
The bell hadn't rung yet, and despite several interruptions during the examples that the teacher wrote on the board, Alfred Jones hadn't really done anything out of turn— and Arthur became more and more suspicious.
Until the wad of paper came out of the vicinity of Alfred's chair, and hit the teacher in the head.
The look of horror on Alfred's face wiped any trace of amusement from Arthur's mind. Everyone else was laughing, except for the one who had presumably thrown the paper projectile.
"Jones," The teacher glanced at the paper he'd scooped up from the floor. "Detention."
"I didn't do it!" Alfred protested, while the giggling continued around him. "Really, I didn't—"
"Your name is on the paper," The teacher's face was locked into an abnormally stern glare. "With your grades, I would think that you'd be wanting to keep every single note that you can."
"I didn't—" Alfred's face was flushed and angry, and embarrassed and— it was such a change from the normal smile and joking that the laughter died quickly. Arthur frowned. Jones might be a clown, and a disruption, but he didn't seem quite that stupid.
"Detention, Jones, go to the office. If you argue any more, there'll be a conference with your parents."
Arthur caught a bare glimpse of Alfred's face as he passed through the class on the way to the door. Unsurprisingly, his face was screwed up into something bordering between anger and tears.
Before Arthur could do anything more than register the glimpse, the bell rang, and the rest of the class burst into chaos.
After a quick lunch, Arthur was heading for the student council room to try and figure out if there was going to be enough money to buy pom pons for the next pep rally, when he caught a glimpse of Alfred Jones sitting in one of the principal's waiting room chairs with his head hanging low. He was alone, and Arthur was nearly stepping inside the room when the principal's door opened, and someone who looked a whole lot like Alfred (but slightly taller and older) stepped out.
The boy didn't even look up, and Arthur hesitated, stopping by the secretary's desk, pretending to be fascinated by the paperclip container.
"You're damn lucky I wasn't working today, Al," the older version of Alfred had a softer voice. "What the hell were you thinking?"
"I didn't do it this time, Mattie, I promise!" Alfred almost sounded like he was going to start wailing, "I didn't—"
"Uncle Bill's going to be pissed— it's bad enough that you're flunking most of your classes, but this? This is going to be the icing on the cake—"
"I'm just dumb, Mattie, I'm sorry, I tried, but I'm dumb." And it did look as though there were tears now. "I'm sorry, don't tell him I got suspended, please, I'll try harder—"
"You're not stupid, Al, you just need to try harder." A sigh from the older, "It's an in-school suspension. For some reason, they think it's a good idea for you to be in the library study room, doing all of your old homework for the next week and a half. You'll also be figuring out how to explain this to your dad— he has to come in and talk with them before they'll let you back in class."
"Just don't tell dad yet." a touch of desperation in the voice, that made Arthur wonder, "Don't tell him, he's going to be so mad—"
"Come on, Al, let's go. They want you out for the rest of the day, your detention starts tomorrow. We'll go get some lunch, and then see what we can do to keep you busy till Uncle Bill gets home."
"Can I see Starblaze and Mapleleaf?" And there was a hint of the normal cheerful tones, "Please?"
"We're going out to the farm, so I think they'll be looking for you. Just…" The conversation had moved towards him, and out the front doors of the school. Jones's face had been a bit less miserable. Misery didn't suit him, Arthur mused.
"Can I help you, Arthur?" The secretary was looking at him with bemusement making her lips twitch at the corners. "Or did you just want to make more jewelry out of my paperclips?"
Arthur blinked in horror as he realized that he'd chained together nearly all of the little metal paperclips into a necklace while he was eavesdropping on the conversation.
"Er, no, I just—"
"It's all right, Arthur. I can see you were concerned for our little clown. He doesn't usually go this far— I'm surprised."
"I don't think he threw it." Arthur offered, "And he seems to know what the limits are, even if he does push them."
"You heard what his punishment is. I think the little room off the library gets a bit stuffy at times. It's certainly isolated— especially when the librarian goes to lunch from eleven to noon." A conspiratorial smile. "Maybe someone could talk to him, and influence him. Or even figure out why he's acting out. He won't talk to any of us."
"I might have a free period at that time," Arthur admitted, curiosity getting the better of him. "I usually study in the library, or do the finances for the student council."
"Hmm," The secretary tilted her head, looking up at him. "It's quite befitting the president to be concerned about the entire student body, and not just his class. Do you need a pass to get to your next one, by the way?"
Arthur shook his head, and took the hint, heading directly towards his next class. There'd be time to look at the budget later.