Sherlock and John Meeting For The First Time In High School (SHORT STORY):
"Go away." He softly said while choking back tears. His piercing blue-green
eyes stare up at me with uncertainty as I sit down next to him.
"This place is very nice, do you spend a lot of time here?" I observe my surroundings.
The corner is tight and clearly meant for one person. Numerous science and nonfiction books are scattered on the ground unorganized, which creates a pit in my stomach, but I refuse to leave him here by himself.
"Yes, although that is none of your business and doesn't concern you in any way. I do
not need your company, John Watson." He says harshly while biting his lip, refusing to cry in front of me. I try to conceal my shocked expression.
"How do you know my name? I've only seen you around school once or twice, and only
in the hallways for that matter."
The boy looks frustrated. "That's the thing with you despicable people. You see but you
do not observe..."
"What is there to observe?"
"I see you every day, John. I see you reading the army books when nobody is looking. I
see you glancing at every woman who passes you. I see you trying to fit in with your peers but you really don't. I see you trying to find someone who understands you but nobody does. You're different." He says quickly, staring at me, and it takes me a moment to process what just happened. I look down at the ground to break eye contact with him, but when I do, a book catches my attention.
"The Republic of Pirates?" I laugh, lifting the mood. A grin spreads across his face and
he runs his hands through his shaggy, dark brown hair.
"It seems fun to be one of them. Adrenaline rushing through you as you swipe your
sword through the air, taking down anyone in your path." He almost laughs.
The air is filled with silence for a few more seconds, and I break the ice.
"I'm sorry about those guys back there. My friends can be a little...rough sometimes." I
half-smile at him, his grin disappears quickly and he sighs.
"Hmph. Friends." He sarcastically says.
"You never told me your name..."
He stares up at the popcorn ceiling as if he's thinking something through. "Sherlock." He
remarks. His eyes dart back to me swiftly. "Holmes."