Hallo! This is the first chapter of the Hopper Files, some oneshots that I'm putting out about the Code: Cameron universe! If you have a prompt you'd like to see, please leave a review or PM me!

Worth noting - these stories are NOT necessarily canon. I will leave a note at the beginning of each chapter as to whether it is or not, as well as the prompt that spawned it.

Lastly, I do not own Code Lyoko.

()()()() Canon Level: 100%: A loner is assigned a roommate ()()()()

The Hopper Files
Chapter 1
Stranger

I swallow tightly as I rap my knuckles against the door. Nothing fancy, just a sharp knock that should be plenty audible to anyone inside. A few moments pass, and I raise my hand to knock again - a bit harder this time, in case they're distracted. The slab of muscle shaped crudely into the shape of a man that is the school's gym teacher - Jim, I think is his name - snorts, and sets a hand on my shoulder, "Let me, Hopper. The boy's probably deep in his computers or something."

I lower my hand as Jim raises a fist approximately the size of a frying pan. The door shudders on his hinges once, twice, three times, and then he ceases the assault, "That oughta get his attention."

Indeed, it isn't much more than thirty seconds before the door opens, revealing a harassed looking blond. An enormous pair of spectacles give him the appearance of looking into my soul, and if he were much paler, I would consider reaching for garlic and a wooden stake.

"Hello there, Jeremie," Jim gravels, "nice to see you're here." One of those enormous hands falls onto my shoulder, and it's all I can do to keep my knees from buckling, "This here is Cameron, a new transfer to the academy. I was hoping that you could show him around some."

"Of course," Jeremie says, nodding, "that shouldn't be a problem. Where's his-" he catches himself, apparently just realizing that I'm standing here, "Sorry, Cameron, was it? Where's your room? We can start there."

There is a moment of silence, and I look up at Jim. The man looks uncomfortable, about to deliver an awkward bit of news. "You see, Jeremie," Jim starts, "we don't have any open rooms available at the moment, and there's no indication that any are going to be opening up any time soon." He coughs awkwardly to the side, "So, um, I'm afraid that your room is going to need some . . . remodeling."

There's another moment of awkward silence, and I shift, uncomfortable with the attention Jeremie is suddenly giving me. After a pause, Jeremie speaks, choosing his words with care, "No offense meant to Cameron," he turns the enormously spectacled gaze on Jim, "but you're taking in a new boarder without a room to put them in?"

"Cameron is a special case," Jim says, and I repress a wince at the suggestion of favoritism, "His father is an old friend of the principal, and several members of the faculty, myself included." He pauses, chewing the inside of his cheek, "If you're really against having a roommate, we can find someone else to put him with, but from the preferences you both listed on your dorm requests, it's the principal's opinion that you would be the best to pair him with."

"Oh, no, it's fine." Jeremie says quickly, "I can work with a roommate, no problem. I just wasn't - I was just curious, is all." He pokes his head out into the hallway, taking in the small pile of boxes and the not so small pile of power tools and furniture next to me in the hall, "So, should we get onto that tour while you get to work?"

"That'd be a good idea," Jim says, "and don't worry, I'll be careful with your electronics. Why, I worked with computers myself, in my younger years."

"Really?" Jeremie asks, surprised, "I wouldn't have guessed-"

"I'd rather not talk about it."

As Jim gets to work, Jeremie leads me out of the dorm building, describing the layout of campus and pointing out several landmarks he uses for navigation. I stay silent through most of it, preferring to let him lead the way, and only giving out hums or nods of acknowledgement when necessary.

"You don't talk much, do you?" Jeremie eventually asks, sitting down on some benches outside the cafeteria, "I mean, I thought that I was quiet, but you're making me feel like a chatterbox."

The sudden question makes me jerk with surprise - normally people stop talking to me after the first few minutes of silence. After a moment where his gaze makes it clear he's hoping for a response, I clear my throat, "I've, um, had some issues in the past. Makes it easier if I just avoid getting close to people. Staying quiet is a . . . defense mechanism, I guess?"

"Issues?" Jeremie queries, then shakes his head hastily, "I mean, if you don't want to talk about it, it's none of my business."

I shake my head slowly, "I don't mind talking about it, really. Just . . . don't try pitying me over it, okay?" When he nods assent, I take a quick breath, "I've been orphaned on three separate occasions. Once when I was three, again when I was four, and last time when I was nine." That last one was four years ago, now. I prefer not to think about it, or the fact that getting the news was barely even a shock to me, "So . . . yeah. Easier to stay numb." There's a long period of silence after my confession, where Jeremie tries to think of something to say. As he continues to fail to come up with something, I clear my throat, "I'm fine staying on my side of the room listening to music, if that works with you. Pretty sure that the System thinks I'm a walking bad luck charm now."

"Wha-no, no, that's not what I . . ." Jeremie trails off, "three times, huh?" When I nod, he lets out a long breath, "Well, that's uh . . . unique. I guess I can understand you avoiding conversation, then." He shakes his head, then stands, and steps up to me, hand extended, "Jeremie Belpois, seventh grade student. I don't believe in bad luck, and I'm pleased to have you as a roommate. How about we be friends?"

For a moment, all I can do is stare at him. He's on the shorter side of the scale when it comes to height, but even wearing boots I barely reach past his nose. A blue turtleneck and a pair of jeans that are just a bit too short for him compose his outfit. Virtually no muscle, and fingers that wouldn't look out of place on a piano master. Yet there he stands, utterly unafraid of the sphere of misfortune that follows in my wake, offering friendship with full knowledge of what's happened to people who've gotten close to me in the past. I should reject him, push him away for his own good. It's the smart thing to do. It's the logical thing to do. It's the kind thing to do.

His hand is warm against mine as I accept it, letting him pull me to my feet as I speak.

"Cameron Hopper. It's a pleasure to meet you, Jeremie."

()()()()

Yeah, it's a little different than the original prologue. It was fun, getting into Cameron's head - might have to do it more often. :)