Noah was walking down one of the hallways of the school, alone, after classes, when he came across a most peculiar anomaly.
The geek from both his Biology and Advanced Physics classes was sitting on the floor. His back was against the lockers and his books were scattered, and he appeared to be... sniffling? And bruised, too.
This was not particularly odd in and of itself. Cody Anderson has shown high aptitude for attracting the unwanted attentions of the sharks of this school, and the sight of him after an episode of Beat The Loser Up was fairly common. The only person who did not seem to know that Cody Anderson is a loser was Cody Anderson himself. (And Sierra, technically, but she hardly qualifies as a person so she doesn't count.)
No. The peculiarity of the situation laid in the fact that this... this bothered him.
For some unfathomable reason, the sight of Cody Anderson, the school's resident punching bag, bruised, bloodied, and crying alone in the hallway upset him now, when he wouldn't have given it a second thought last month.
Noah paused. He regarded the prospects warily. He shuffled his feet. Hmm.
There were two options laid out before him now, two courses of action he could possibly take.
He could keep walking, pretend not to have noticed anything and ignore the whole bizarre situation all together. Certainly, this option held the most appeal as he hadn't really been noticed yet and could easily slip away with no repercussions. It was also less... sticky.
Or he could use his dubious consoling abilities and attempt to alleviate Anderson's considerable distress, i.e., pep-talk. He was considerably less fond of this option.
On the one hand, Noah was already running late, if the empty corridors were any indication, and he really did need to get home now, if only to avoid his mother's ire.
On the other hand... Noah cannot remember the last time he had pleasant and intelligent chatter with someone else, like he had the last month or so since he and Anderson were partnered in classes.
Noah didn't do pleasant chatter. He traded words like they were goods, only spoke with people if they had something he could use, and the fact that this wasn't the case here was frankly making him a little uneasy.
Could he be looking at a real friend here?
Was that a good thing?
Noah pursed his lips. Then squared his shoulders, marched towards the sniffling boy, and crouched before him.
"Anderson."
The bundle before him flinched.
"You look like shit." He said, rather eloquently. Anderson seemed to shrink even further in on himself. Noah ran an aggravated hand over his face. He didn't know what he was thinking, he was always better at insulting people anyway. He leaned back on his feet, and looked up at the ceiling. Time to take a more familiar approach.
"You know," Noah said, drawing out the words,"Geoff is holding a party next week. It's supposed to be pretty big, biggest party of the year. Everyone is coming. Jocks, cheerleaders, preps. Duncan's ratty punk band of junkies is playing, even-" Cody mumbled something sulkily, which sounded a lot like 'go away', but Noah ignored him, "-and, well. It would be most unfortunate if the power were to go out while everyone is getting really turnt up. Or if someone were to spike the punch with, say, laxatives instead of alcohol, or if the DJ were inclined to make some rather entertaining, if a bit intimate announcements about Mr. Duncan's exciting sexual endeavors." Oh, the possibilities. Noah was already giddy with all the unfortunate coincidences he will be overseeing this week.
He looked at him again, and saw that Anderson stopped sniffling, but was looking at him oddly, like he suddenly started speaking Chinese. "Wh-what are you- a-are you saying what I- what do you mean?"
Poor kid. Noah felt his mouth curve into a mean little smile. "Well. I imagine you've noticed, but pep-talk is not exactly my forte. Getting even, though-well. I'm quite proficient, if I may say so myself."
Anderson's dazed look morphed into comprehension, before he frowned in confusion. Noah stood up and stretched, then reached down to help him up. Anderson hesitated, but took his hand, and asked, "Why are you helping me?"
Noah faltered. He paused a little uncomfortably. He thought of what to say. "You make an excellent conversationalist." Close enough. "Come on, we have plotting to do."
"Where are you going!" Anderson squeaked, gathering up his books hurriedly.
"We're going to my place. It's where I keep all my notes and blackmail material. I'm pretty sure my sister still has her old Celine Dion music store standee somewhere."
Anderson caught up with him, looking a little more disheveled,"Music store- what are you gonna need that for?"
Noah chuckled,"Oh, you will love the answer to that one."
By the time they reached his house, Anderson was already smiling again and throwing in his own ideas, and Noah was scolded into calling him Cody, dammit, friends don't call each other by their last names.
Noah begins to think that maybe it is a good thing.
AN\ It seems that I'm only capable of writing oneshots. Sometimes. I run out of steam pretty quickly.
This is probably going to stay a oneshot, unless inspiration strikes again. Tell me what you think, please!