Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Author's Note: Yeah, I thought I would do something different. Whether it's good or bad different is up to you, my readers. So read and enjoy!
A nervous and very anxious Spencer dragged her feet across the school parking lot. The youngest Carlin dreaded the first day of school. The summer wasn't exactly a paradise but it beat the fiery flames of hell any day. The blonde shifted her stack of books and using her free hand pushed her bifocals higher up on her nose; her attention span straying from her moving feet for a moment. That was all it took. With one swoop of a foot an already horrid looking day got worse as Spencer crashed to the pavement, her hands just breaking her fall. Spencer, with the skill of someone very practiced, rolled from her hands and then stood, her fingers reaching up to frantically adjust her bun. Then she bent down and scrambled to collect her scattered books. When she next looked up a pair of Timberlands stood in her line of vision. She slowly rose to meet her brother's dazzling blue eyes.
"God, Spence," he said. His voice had an antagonized ring to it as he picked up a book that had been missed by his little sister. "Couldn't you could be a little less awkward? You're always tripping over everything."
"It's not that I'm tripping, it's that I'm being tripped!" Spencer protested. She ripped the book from her brother's hands and added it to her leaning tower of books without a thank you.
Glen scoffed, "Spencer please, stop with that excuse. You aren't fooling anyone. Just admit that you have no coordination what so ever." Spencer opened her mouth to continue defending her honor but was interrupted as some beach blonde bimbo yelled Glen's name. "Meet you at the car after school. Just… try not to mess up so bad, okay?" And with those words of wisdom, Glen puffed out his chest, and practically ran over to the slut who had called him.
Spencer shook her head in amazement, "Just like a dog."
The warning bell sounded right above her head. Her first reaction was to wince at the ear splitting sound, her second was to make a mad dash to her homeroom, joining the rest of her peers in the stampede, each one afraid of falling behind and getting trampled. Spencer couldn't help but feel out of place amidst the hustle and bustle of the student body. To her it felt like everyone around her had a bright future, a social future, when all Spencer had going for her was her school work, and since when has that taken anyone anywhere?
People always talk about soul mates; about how there is a hole inside of them and that hole is only filled when they found that special someone. Spencer found this concept ridiculous, it was myth, it belonged underneath witches and ghoolies. It just didn't exist.
Spencer slipped into the classroom just as her teacher was closing the door. Ignoring the disapproving looks from her teacher, she quickly slid into her regular seat in the back. She opened to a clean page in her notebook and then waited as the teacher took attendance. English Lit, by far the best sleep aid.
"I'm going to start today's lesson by assigning you all a creative project."
A collective groan shot around the classroom. "Yes, yes I know. Trust me I've heard it all "but Ms. Patterson it's the first day of school blah, blah, blah". Deal with it." She turned to face the board and scratched her chalk across it. When she stepped away the word "Shakespeare" had been revealed. "You all should have read Romeo and Juliet over the summer. Your assignment is to do a poster, essay, poem, what have you on the brilliant Shakespeare. It should depict your opinion on Shakespeare's most important characteristic."
A hand shot up in front of Spencer.
"Yes, Griffin, what question could you possibly have already?"
"Can we do it on the fact that Shakespeare was gay?"
An awkward silence swept across the room as everyone's eyes flicked to Griffin and then back to Ms. Patterson to catch her reaction. "And what has brought you to this conclusion?"
"Well," Griffin said his spiky orange hair gleaming underneath the bright florescent lights, "he wrote poems to men about doing them. I don't think that you can get much gayer." He waved a limp wrist to emphasize his point. There was instant uproar in the class. Some students began yelling 'fag' or 'sinner' at the top of their lungs while others shouted back comments about us all being created equal and acceptance of everyone being vital for the human race to exist. Spencer just sat there, her jaw firmly against the floor; she had never experienced chaos like this before.
"Quiet!" Ms. Patterson exclaimed in a higher pitch than normal, two times later, and most of the students had quieted down and returned to their seats. She cleared her throat nervously, "Griffin, I don't think it would be wise for you to choose that aspect of Shakespeare for your project; only because I do not need another incident like the one that just occurred. As for the rest of you I want you all to sit down and shut up."
She returned to the board once she was satisfied that the subject had been dropped. The jeers of 'faggot' still continued, however, underneath people's breath. Soon, Ms. Patterson became so frustrated that she dismissed the class early. Spencer gathered her things and rushed from the classroom her head spinning and her mind going in endless circles. She was so preoccupied that it took her awhile to notice the burning, stinging sensation enveloping her hands. After glancing down at her palms Spencer noticed for the first time the fairly deep gashes running up and down them from when she had fallen earlier on that day.
The blonde took her time heading to the bathroom, where she hoped to clean out her wounds. The last thing she needed was for them to get infected. Spencer quietly opened the heavy door into the girl's lavatory. She trudged over to the porcelain sinks and began to carefully wash out her cuts.
As she was drying her hands a loud 'boom' echoed throughout the small restroom. Spencer's eyes frantically scanned the room until they landed on a stall door that had been, from the looks of it, blown off its hinges.
She hastily sped over to the stall only to stop dead in her tracks. Slowly the door rose into the air. Each nail rising and returning to its proper place or position until the door was attached again as if nothing had happened. A few moments later a petite brunette emerged from the stall. She was so busy making sure the door was back on correctly that it was several minutes before she realized that Spencer was standing there, gawking, frozen to the floor.
The brunette's eyes widened and her face froze in an image of pure terror. Time seemed to pause for a moment while the two girls stared transfixed at each other, fear filling both their eyes. Finally, Spencer found herself again, and tore out of the restroom leaving the stuttering girl far behind. Spencer continued to run past the school parking lot and didn't stop until she was a good distance from the school. Then, still in shock, she began the long walk home because there was no way she was going back there.