This story is based on a prompt from one of our lovely Tumblr followers Magnificentbackgirl99. We hope you enjoy what the writers have created.
The first chapter of this teenage love story is brought to you by winterscorpion, who introduces a younger version of the couple that we all know and love with wit and charm. She sets the foundation of the story with a poem, one that will help navigate Rick and Michonne down the road that they were meant to travel.
Be sure to check out her other works on on FF page
-We're The Ones Who Write
The squeak of the marker on the whiteboard at the front of the classroom was halted by sound of the door opening. Carol halted her writing and swiveled her head to see who had the guts to interrupt her class. The grey-eyed teacher may have been demure in stature but she was a highly respected alumnus of the high school with a reputation for sharp wit and an even sharper temper. Her famous catch phrase, "Don't let the pixie cut fool y'all. Cutting you down to my size is only a razor's edge away" was well known to many a wayward teenage who tried to test their boundaries as they were wont to do at that age.
As she turned her attention to the opening door her gaze fell fleetingly on one of those very same wayward teens. Her favorite actually, though he probably didn't know it, she sighed at the sight of the top of his curly brown head. Probably because he wasn't accustomed to being anyones favorite anything was what endeared him to her in the first place. Carol Peletier had seen many a sad story come and go through her classroom through the years and the town being the size it was, his story was commonplace knowledge to not only the high school faculty but the townspeople in general.
The Grimes family did not do themselves any favors either, what with the patriarch in and out of county jail and the mama in and out of the local bar. The eldest, Jeff had made his escape from the small town life and the scandalous name early, joining the army, leaving the youngest, Rick to fend for himself against their father's rage and their mother's notorious promiscuity. It was the fighting spirit in Rick that Carol saw that drew her to him. That grit in his piercing blue stare that made her want to protect the boy. She'd broken up many an altercation, results of the kids hair trigger temper, and had spent enough time giving detention to him to know there was more than the usual sullen bad boy façade he had cultivated over years of parental abuse and neglect. She had fought and won for him to be put in her accelerated English class against the wishes of her boss, Principal Horvath, who didn't want to look past the boys frequent transgressions with his fellow sidekick Shane.
"Those boys are trouble Carol," she remembered from their heated debate, "Especially Grimes! My shoulder still ain't right from that last brawl him and the Walsh boy caused in the cafeteria last month!"
"He's got talent Dale," she had repeated her constant argument, "I've spent time with him. I've gotten to know him. I CAN'T… scratch that… I WON'T let you discount him because of what you think of his family… his mother in particular." Knowing there was a story behind the principal's clear disdain for Rick didn't just account because of youthful shenanigans she pushed that button to get what she wanted.
"Fine," the beleaguered principal bit back out to her knowing he wasn't going to win and not prepared to face his own demons with regard to the Grimes family issues, "But don't mind the 'I told you so' when the boy ends up in an orange jumpsuit to match his daddy's."
Convincing the principal was a cakewalk compared to convincing Rick to be in her "nerds for turds" class but she fought him just as hard, finally winning him over with hard talk of "finally proving this town and those turd nerds wrong" about him. Rick never seemed convinced he belonged but Carol knew better. Especially after reading some of his heart wrenching, and possibly autobiographical, short stories filled with the smashed mirrors and smashed hearts of broken trust. She was convinced she was undoubtedly right about Rick being far different from his father, and she was going to make sure he made it out of this town alive.
"Miss Peletier, sorry for the interruption but I've got a new student that transferred in today," Principal Horvath said quietly as he entered the room. Carol thought it was strange that a new student was personally brought to her by the principal but she got distracted enough by the young beauty that followed in after him.
"Hello, I'm Michonne Renaud," the voice coming from the young woman seemed to hold the confidence and a maturity that usually came with years of experience.
You walked into the room and now my heart has been stolen
You took me back in time to when I was unbroken
Now you're all I want
And I knew it from the very first moment
'Cause a light came on when I heard that song and I want you to sing it again
Rick's cerulean eyes shot up toward the door, the smooth, soft voice grabbing his attention instantly. It wasn't just the clipped northern accent that brought his head up from his standard position at the back of the classroom, it was the melodic lilt he heard in those four words. Like a song he wanted to hear on repeat until the tape wore out, and he hadn't even seen the singer yet. He wanted to lean to the side a bit to see what housed that musically timbered voice but his vision was blocked by the ubiquitous, flowing brown curls of the head in front of him. The compulsion to adjust his seat was overridden by his pride though. Couldn't let these nerds see him have even a modicum of care for the new addition to the class. His disdain for his fellow classmates was well known and he would see it as a sign of weakness if he thought they would witness him actually participating with them in their curiosity.
"Well you don't see that everyday," Rick heard the barely restrained whisper of the young man two rows ahead of him, "and damn sure not round these parts anyway." Rick grimaced and rolled his eyes with not a little bit of jealousy that that asshole Terry had an unobstructed view of what he was so desperate to see. The golden boy of their entire class, with his smooth tan skin and designer clothes (that he boasted to everyone about buying in the big, fancy city), was Rick's own personal nemesis.
It wasn't because Terry was popular, either. Rick was by no means an outcast, having good looks and a crew of his own. No, it was the guy's pure smugness. The way he acted like he was definitely better than this school, better than this town, better than Rick in every way. Terry's family had the money, lived on the good side of town and the world was his to grab by the balls because he had the means by which to do the grabbing. Being class president was an easy achievement that he felt was owed to him. Being star of the basketball team was only what was supposed to be his position. Everything came easy for Terry and that was just something Rick couldn't abide, having never had anything come easy for him. Not his second hand clothes that he worked part-time at his best friend Daryl's family owned garage to buy. Not his beat-up pickup truck that he rebuilt himself from various parts at that same garage.
Definitely not the peek he was still trying to get of the new girl that Terry easily had full view of. It made Rick hate him just a little bit more.
"Well she's certainly not from around here, or even this state from the sound of her," the headful of flowing brown curls turned to Rick so he could just manage a glimpse of the new girl's body in profile. And what a body it was, from what he could see from his obscured vantage point. He managed to glimpse the lithe body in fitted army green pants sporting multiple cargo pockets cinched at the waist with a chain link belt. His eyes travelled up past what appeared to be an ass of a goddess to a sliver of smooth chocolate skin, barely hidden by a cropped top and matching jacket. Just as he was about to glimpse the face he'd wanted to see since hearing her voice, Principal Horvath moved to continue the quiet talk with .
"And what's that on her bag? Hmph Black Girl Magic? What the heck is that," Lori continued her assessment, flipping her wavy brown hair over her shoulder in a gesture that annoyed Rick more than usual, "you think she's from New Orleans or somewhere they do voodoo or something?"
"Jesus Lori, where do you get that shit from?" Rick snapped a little harsher than he meant. "Even I know that has nothing to do with voodoo and I don't even have four fifty-two-inch TV's in my house."
"Clearly that's not for you to understand," Sasha, sitting in front of Lori called back, "It's a sista thing. Why don't you quiet down, turn on some Taylor Swift or something and let us handle the intros from here ok?"
"Jesus, why're they always trying to make it seem like I can't understand," Lori turned with a fake plea in her eyes, "I listen to Chance the Rapper, I even rocked boxer braids a couple of times if you remember Sasha."
"Yeah, and I told your Kardashian wannabe ass you looked like an idiot then and you sound like one now," Sasha retorted immediately.
"Quiet. All of you." Carol suppressed a chuckle at the clapback her student delivered to the other as she studied the tablet Principal Horvath had given her with the new student's past school records. She wasn't easily impressed, but as she scrolled through the glowing teacher's reports and A+ after A+ she had to give the girl her respectful due. Class President, AP courses in both English and Applied Sciences, Calculus, shit she should be already enrolled in University, there's got to be a story there, she wondered as she looked up to appraise the young woman. A beauty too, she sighed as her analytical mind already tried to gauge where her new student's place would be in the new environment. She was met with deep thoughtful eyes that looked straight back at her with a boldness and confidence that women years older hadn't been able to achieve. Carol saw that she wouldn't need to convince this one of her potential. This young woman knew what she was worth already and, based on her school records alone, wasn't going to let this stop in the little town be any kind of hindrance.
"Well alright Michonne, very pleased to meet you," Carol started, "I see that you're probably way ahead of our current curriculum, but this is an Advanced English course so you shouldn't feel like we're too far behind."
"No ma'am, I already saw you were starting the poem by Robert Frost on the board," Michonne replied back, "I've already written a dissertation paper using it to show the impact of choices in correlation with the argument of fate versus destiny earlier this year. I can email it to you if you want. It's one of my favorite poems though, so I don't mind going back over it."
"Well, I'd certainly love to read that paper Michonne," Carol did an internal somersault that she had only done once when she read Rick's short stories for the first time. It was rare to get a really promising student who truly loved to learn and the magic of the written word. Having TWO, though? Well that was just lightning in a bottle, and Carol couldn't wait to explore their potential. With that in mind she turned back to her class to see how she could arrange Michonne's placement and was slightly disappointed that the only empty seat was next to the cocky golden boy Terry. No matter, this girl's gonna have them all falling over her anyway she surmised as she peeped Terry's smug expression. The egotistical kid looked as if he just knew that he was in prime position, as was his due, to take a first crack at the new diamond amongst them.
"If you'd like to have a seat over there," Carol gestured to the empty seat. Rick seethed at his position at the back seat, but his annoyance lasted only momentarily because finally he was able to see the face that came with the voice that sang out to him earlier. What a face it was. He watched her make her way to the seat in front of Terry and was briefly taken aback as their eyes met. Crystal blue clashed with roasted coffee for what may have been a second but felt like a lifetime. Rick could see them walking down the street hand in hand, could feel her laughter as he tickled her on a couch, he saw them dancing slowly staring into each other eyes just like they were at the moment. He saw her eyes crinkle at the corner as if in confusion before she turned swiftly away to sit in the chair giving him the back of her beautiful head to ponder. Rick immediately felt the loss of the connection he could swear they shared a moment before.
"Well hey girl," Terry leaned forward as Michonne bent to retrieve her binder out of her bag, "I'm Terry and I'm really all you need to know for now."
Michonne scoffed lightly and turned to give Terry a full appraisal, "Well, Terry, I'm Michonne and I think I'll be deciding who I need to know if that's ok with you. I think I need to actually finish sitting down before you feel the need to speak to me. We done with telling me what I need? Good."
Rick's bark of laughter was barely heard over the loud guffaws of the rest of the class seeing Terry put in his place so succinctly. Sasha leaned over with tears in her eyes from laughter, "Girrrrlll, I haven't heard a read like that since … well never. I'm Sasha," offering her hand to Michonne who leaned forward to take it, "and if that's what we have to look forward to it would be my pleasure to welcome you!" Sasha's laugh was infectious and Michonne couldn't help but to return her smile.
"Well I don't know if you should look forward to that particular kind of clapback but thanks for the offer," Michonne flashed her megawatt smile as Rick just continued to listen, hoping she never stopped speaking.
Lori glanced back and forth between Rick's piercing stare and the new girl, seeing that she had lost all of Rick's attention, a position she was not used to at all. Annoyed, yet doing her best to mask it, she made her play for the new girl. While Carol went back to the white board to finish writing the poem in full Lori leaned forward, strategically blocking Rick's view, and whispered loudly, "Hey giirrrrl, I'm Lori and I love your dreadlocks."
"Locs," Michonne replied without turning her head.
"I.. I'm … excuse me?," Lori sputtered.
"They're called locs. If you're referring to my hair and there is nothing to "Dread" about it. It grows out of my scalp same as yours," a hard edge to Michonne's voice that got the attention of everyone around her immediately.
"I… I'm sorry, I… uhh I just thought that's what that style was called," Lori said a little taken aback by the icy tone in Michonne's voice.
"Well, then I suggest you read up on styles before you go throwing out words you don't know the meaning of. This is an advanced English course right," Michonne finally deigned to turn and address Lori, "Then I guess you should know the power behind the words you use before you use them."
Carol took that as her cue to diffuse the situation and cleared her throat loudly, "Alright class, let's have a look at the assignment and have a think about the power behind the words on the board." Michonne thought she was being reprimanded until she caught the quick wink from Carol's grey eyes.
The Road Not Taken
BY ROBERT FROST
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Rick finally stopped staring holes into the back of Michonne's head to review the writing on the board. Something resonated in him as he read the words. They seemed to jump and come to life in front of him. He barely heard Lori as she tried to gain some sympathy from him with her whispered admonishments of "stuck up bitch" and "who does she think she is". He was thinking of the road he felt he was about to set his feet on. Something was about to change with the introduction of Michonne Renaud.
I swear that every word you sing, you wrote them for me
Like it was a private show, I know you never saw me
When the lights come on and I'm on my own
Will you be there to sing it again?
Could I be the one you talk about in all your stories
Can I be him?
Song credit: "Can I Be Him" performed by James Arthur
Songwriters: Richard James Parkhouse / George Henry Tizzard / James Andrew Arthur / Negin Djafari