Sherlock Holmes sits up in his small bed, barely able to accommodate him tall slender frame. He's very tall for his age. A couple of inches taller than everyone else in 8th grade.
He hears his Mum call down from the kitchen telling him that breakfast is ready. He groans and rubs his eyes, and heads down the stairs.
Breakfast goes by slowly. Mum asking what Mycroft and Sherlock are going to do today, and then she follows it up with her usual worried rant about Sherlock not making friends. Typical. Dull.
While their Mum is lecturing Mycroft on how he shouldn't manipulate his so-called friends to get what he wants, Sherlock slips away from the table and goes to get dressed. He wants to get to the school early today, maybe he can sneak in a few experiments at the lab before school starts.
He slowly dresses in khakis and a nice, navy blue button-down shirt, and puts on his favorite pair of black sneakers. Something comfortable.
He quickly walks the short 15 minute walk from his house to his school, whistling a violin tune the whole way.
When he reaches the school, he sees the same girl who's there every morning sitting on the steps. She always stares at him. And he hates it. When he walks by, she never says anything. He doesn't either. He doesn't even acknowledge her presence, afraid that doing so would spike up her affections she so clearly had for him.
He's in the process of ignoring her when he hears a small, soft voice say his name.
"Sherlock?"
He turns slowly to look at her, somewhat annoyed. Her soft, blonde hair is up in a ponytail. She's wearing a blue t-shirt, jeans, and some tennis shoes. Her cheeks are also flushed red, and she's looking at her hands in her lap, sneaking a peek at him very quickly.
Hmm, must have taken a lot of courage for her to say something to me, thinks Sherlock. I think I'll have a little fun. This should be interesting.
"Yes?"
"Oh, um, well I was wondering if you wanted to sit down and talk, instead of break into the science lab like you do every day." A small, sly, smile crept onto her face. She gains a little courage and sits up a little straighter.
"Wait, how do you know about that?" Sherlock asks, sitting down. He was very careful to cover his tracks. Very, very careful. No normal person could ever figure out he was going there.
"Because I've been watching you for a while Sherlock, and I know you," she says. Realizing her mistake, she quickly continues, "Well that sounds a little creepy, I didn't mean-"
"I know exactly what you mean." Sherlock lets out a little smile, and then continues. "That's very interesting that you would notice something like that."
"Oh Sherlock, don't talk to me like I'm stupid."
"No, no. I'm talking to you as if you're intelligent. If you were stupid you wouldn't be able to work out where I was going. I cover my tracks pretty well," he says, a little too proudly.
After a little silence, and the girl playing with her hands awkwardly, Sherlock stands up, the girl immediately following him.
"So, what's your name?" he asks her.
"Molly. Molly Hooper," the girl says with a soft smile.
"Well Molly Hooper, I hope to see more of you soon."
"And you too, Sherlock," Molly says as he picks the lock on the door of the school and goes inside.
