I love Gakuen stories. WHY AM I STARTING A NEW ONE.
Name: Just Your Run of The Mill Casanova
Summary: If getting slapped across the face on a regular basis is how girls say they like a boy, then Ash is the most popular boy in school. Boarding School AU.
Warning: Swears, all up on my story! Ash being Ash.
Does anyone even read my stories?
"-And I think you're really hot, Rachel."
"Rashel." The frowning brunette corrected.
"Rashel, yeah, so, do you want to go out?" Ash smiled optimistically.
Only to get slapped in the face, for a girl, she hit hard and he found himself on the floor surrounded by copies of English textbooks and To Kill a Mockingbird.
"Get bent, Redfern," Rachel – Or was it Rashel? – snapped as she flounced away, her pony tale bobbing and her hockey stick clacking against the floor, "and learn to stop being a dick."
Ash leered as she left, his cheek burning and his ego slinking into defensive mode, she's too muscled anyway, girls are meant to be soft.
A book was digging into his back, so he made haste in standing up. As he tried to pick things up, he caught sight of himself in the window. No blazer, collar tugged up defiantly, his checked blue and white khakis hanging a little too low and hair that got him hauled in regularly, he was positive that he was the epitome of badass, and it didn't matter that he didn't know how to spell epitome.
He put the last book on the shelf and grabbed his bag, leaving to go find Quinn.
He didn't need, whatsherface, Rachel – no wait, Rashel? – Anyway. He didn't need anyone.
"Quinn, how do you do it?" Ash groaned into his rucksack as he half watched Quinn open his billionth Valentines card of the day. He laughed softly at the cute message in one before putting it to the side and opening another. Being the King of the school would make any man cocky, but Quinn, even if everyone wanted him, seemed to stay both single and nice at the same time.
"How do I do what? Have the entire female populace desperately love my sexy ass?"
Or at least, that's what everyone thought.
"Yeah, that."
Not that Ash was complaining, Quinn's oversized ego much complimented his own.
"Well, if you just took the time and thought about the girl's feelin-"
"I don't have time!" Ash interrupted, "I have a libido, and you're only so popular because your dad runs this place." It didn't matter that aforementioned headmaster was also Ash's uncle, "Jeez, where's Jez with my icepack?"
"step dad."
"Doesn't excuse from the fact he's sleeping with your mother," Morgead interjected, earning dead leg sharpish and a headlock, "Okay, I give!"
Quinn, Ash and Morgead's haunt was the rooftop of the boarding school. Every lunch for the last three years without fail the trio sat there, more often than not they listened to Ash bitch about his love life, or lack of. Morgead was happily dating some biker from his tech class, commonly known as "that crazy ginger bitch" or Jez to friends and family. Quinn, the second memory of their awesome trio was the victim (Ash would say the opposite) of NWS's oestrogen brigade.
Understandably, Ash felt left out.
"Here's food for thought," Morgead said around a mouthful of baguette – the man ate like a surprisingly slender horse, "date Mare."
Mary Lynette was Ash's chemistry partner – like the class, not soulmates, that'd be cliché and weird.
"We've been friends forever, it'd be creepy."
Also, they'd been friends since they were five.
"I mean, I fancy her – not like that, I mean, I don't fancy her, but I can see why someone would find her attractive and," he trailed off, pausing before finishing, "and I've seen her naked, so."
"Seen who naked, your Grandma?" Jez asked as she came through the roof door.
"Thank you for that, Jezebel, thank you so much, I hate you." Ash glowered. She flung the icepack at his face hard enough to bruise and stop his glowering – girls and being bitches these days, eh – and settled down besides Morgead, stealing some of his baguette, "Rashel told me all about your escapades, Redfern, don't try it. She's like, a ninja on steroids."
Trust Morgead to date the best friend of the girl trying to shatter his already fragile ego.
Ash scowled, leaning against the green safety rails and pressing the icepack into his face. He unpackaged his cooking chocolate with one, deft hand – the ladies don't know what they're missing, and bit into it. He was eating cooking chocolate because he spent all his tuck money on cigarettes and laces for his doc martins, so he was down to stealing from the kitchens.
He sat on in silence as Jez and Morgead necked – fucking horny teenagers, man – and Quinn smiled at his valentines' cards and ate Lindor chocolate. God save me from this horrible fate of being single and lonely that has over taken me. For a second, there was no reply, and then his sub conscious said people are dying of horrible things, Ash, belt up.
Then the bell ran and he was saved from his own mind bitching and moaning. The trio, plus Jez, started collecting their things and Ash stood, walking towards the door and his English class.
"Ash, this is Mary Lynette," his mother smiled down at him as she introduced the quiet infant, "Play nice, okay? Mama's got to take care of some things."
Ash looked up at the girl from his place in the sand pit.
He didn't like her and told her to go away, but she sat down defiantly and stayed quiet as she helped him built a sand castle.
As Ash would learn there were a lot of times he'd tell Mary Lynette to go away and she'd stay. Most noticeably when he was 12 and his mother had died in a car crash. He'd told Mare to go away then, but she stayed there as he silently cried.
He'd also learn that she wasn't prone to silence, and would beat him into submission on a regular basis, and that she loved count chocula and music.
When he was 7, he'd sleep at her house and see her gazing wistfully out of the window at the stars, and the next day he'd take the bus to town – all on his own – and buy her a book on star gazing, one she would carry with her for years. That's when Ash learnt she loved the night.
When he was 14, he'd realize how much she treasured him by the hurt look on her face when he told her he was sitting with that guy Quinn at lunch instead of her and that she should shove off, that was the first time he told her to go away and she actually did.
Then, when they were 17, they'd end up partners in Science class, much to her dismay, as she now despised him as much as the rest of the female populace had for years, he'd be laid back about it, all okay, nice to see you, babe 'nd all, but them glasses and she'd do the work whilst he stared at whatever girl it was that month.
Then she'd go home and cry to her step mother about how Ash was talking to her again but not really talking because he was being a douche and she loved him so much – but not in that was, she thinks , - and life is so confusing and hard and-.
Ash stared up at his ceiling that night, looking at the posters and letters he put up there, tracing the faces and words. His dash read 3am, so he grabbed his phone and scrolled through his numbers until he found hers and sends her a text.
Me, 3:01: Hey.
Mare, 3:27: Fuck off.
He smirked, ignoring the twang in his chest, and then he locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket, hearing Quinn turn in his sleep and yawn, his light snoring ceasing for a second before he groaned, turned over again, and carried on.
Personally, Ash blamed his insomnia on having a roommate that snored like a pig.
His phone vibrated, and he pulled it out of his pocket and checked it.
Morgy, 3:30: Food for thought, Casanova. ;)
Having Casanova as your nickname sucks when you can't get laid.
We break ourselves down, and build ourself up for dissapointment,
How fragile we are, so fragile we are we just don't show it.
We'll shake up this town, and shoot down the stars for our enjoyment,
So sexy we are, so sexy we are we just don't know it.
I'm not ashamed of this.
Angst, angst everywhere.
Also, NWS stands for Night World School, and the oestrogen brigade is inspired by all the fangirlism I see for Mr Quinn, **tips hat to fandom** ladies and gentlemen.
Off now, review, if you please.