There was another one stuck to his locker. This time it looked to be a long one about words of self proclaimed loved.
He could hardly understand how a person could write so many poems and it all be about him.
Seemed impossible to him.
Closing the door and rushingly taking the piece of paper from it, rushing to his next class. Weaving through the crowded hallway, he accidently bumps into someone who is taller than him. Looking up, he saw a nervous glance behind glasses that are huge.
"I'm so sorry." Came the guy's apology, his eyes dancing every which way.
It seemed he was actually scared of him. A shorter guy who could only lazily hit for something stupid. Well there was that one instance when he was younger, but that was purely because the guy was stupid.
"It's alright. It's my fault too."
With that he walked away, not wanting to be late. If he was late he would be locked out until the end of the class. Others chattered, obnoxiously as he prepared himself for the lesson.
The teacher entered the room and was excitedly talking to the other students in the room. He listened in, interested in whatever they have to say. The few of them were talking about a student who was apparently a good writer and would be awarded something soon.
'Good for them.' He thought.
When the bell rang, the class started and he soon forgot the incident in the hallway.
He is nervous.
Everyone around him knew it and they left him alone. They knew that saying anything to the usually over excited guy would make him even more frayed and would eventually cause a meltdown if they kept it up.
The last time that happened the class had to get his friend to calm him down long enough to walk to the guy's car and drive him home.
Tapping his pencil against the desk and a piece of paper sat in front of him. In his mind it was whispering that he should write his feelings down, maybe that'll help him. But he knew all he would write about was the ridiculous crush on a guy who he definitely knew that he didn't know him at all.
It had started out when he was younger and in his last year of middle school. This was before he had gotten glasses and still could do stuff without his nerves screaming at him for being so stupid. The few friends he had agreed to do this prank on one of the teachers. Right before he could do his part of it, a kid way shorter than him walked up to him and pulled on the tie he had been wearing that day.
As it tightened around his neck, he saw a fearsome look in the kid's eyes. They burned with hate and some sort of justice he couldn't name. But the way he spoke would forever be grained into his mind.
"A few rumours say that you and your friends are going to do this prank to a particular teacher. Why?"
The tie became a bit tighter.
Struggling not to panic at the fact he could stop breathing with a wrong answer, he tried to think of a reason. None came to mind.
Just before the kid could pull any tighter, one of friends came running towards him, fear on his face. The teacher they would have pranked together came running after him, anger controlling him and pushing him to be even faster.
When they ran down the hallway and turned his head to thank the kid, he noticed that he had left during the ramage. He tried to remember what he looked like, but only remembered he was way shorter than him and could choke him to death.
It was a few days later when he was helping his friend hide from the still angry teacher that he saw the kid again. This time he made sure to take a closer look at him and saw something really beautiful that at the time he couldn't describe.
He spent most of his energy trying to find out more about the kid. Name, classes, maybe who he liked, all the stalkerish things.
He had learned his name and suddenly he wanted to sprout poetry about the cute kid.
When he wasn't doing classwork, he wrote little poems.
Apparently he was writer from the way his English teacher talked to him after a few assignments that had to do with poems. The teacher claimed he was brilliant and wondered why he didn't show this kind of skill before.
All he did was shrug.
The said English teacher made him check out a writing club, just to show him what he could do with the skill. The kids were a bit weird at first. They did know him as the loud kid who wasn't worth anything according to the teachers.
That soon changed when they saw what he could write.
The few who found friendship with him, begged him to come back. It was annoying at first. That is until his friends of middle school started drift away from him for unknown reasons.
He did join when going into high school. He'd found happiness with the club for the oddest of reasons.
He didn't mind of course.
Soon the pencil made its way to the page and started to write another love poem, calming him down slightly.
Others around working on paper or computer, writing to their heart's content. Several of them with headphones in, focusing on their work. Others liked the silence and used it for their work.
The teacher in charge of the whole club, who is none other than the English teacher who got him here, is reading a book that looked to be one of the Lord of the Rings. He looked to be close to finishing it.
He neared the end of the poem and wrote his name on the end of it.
As he got of from his chair and went to the hall for a drink, the teacher walked over to his seat and took a quick glance at the paper. Taking it, the teacher had a plan for it. Just needed to hold it hostage for it to work.
Yes I'm writing another DenNor fic. Still think I'm crappy at romance, but continuing to practice makes you better, so here I am.
Hope you like.