Watching the first blush of dawn unfurl across the ceiling, chased by cheery sparrow song, Molly gave up any ideas of sleep. Mary had warned her about the irrational thoughts that would flash through her brain as the hours ticked down towards the wedding, but Molly hadn't anticipated the Technicolor movie reel; twists, turns and truly cringe-worthy moments all leading helter-skelter to this pause before the "I do's".
It had all started at thirteen. First day, new school, the acrid plastic smell of her new pencil case curling her stomach, or was that just nerves? Everyone knew each other, or so it seemed – the cacophony raged around her, no sign of a teacher so far. Molly gazed at the characters on her case as they smiled at her behind over-large coffee cups, wishing that they could feed her some sassy lines or quirky habits to draw in friends of her own.
"Hello. You'll get used to the bigger classes in, I'd say… three weeks." Startled, Molly flicked her gaze to the boy sat opposite her, all unbrushed curls and wide blue eyes. They certainly didn't have teenage boys like this at her last school!
"How did you –"
"I've been observing you since first lesson was supposed to start. New school, first day, used to classes of about… 20, I'd say, judging by your shoulders. The name's Sherrinford, by the way."
"Sh- Sherrinford?" Hating her little nervous tic, Molly fought down the colour rising to her cheeks.
"Yup. You can call me Ford if you like, though."
"Okay… Ford. I'm Molly."
Silence falling as the English teacher swept into the classroom, a stack of books tucked right up to his chin, Molly lapsed back into daydreams, imagining Ford asking her to join him for break, shared homework, maybe even someone to invite home for tea. Her brothers were going to be unbearable when they realized she had developed a crush on her very first day; she never could hide her feelings from them. Lost in her imaginings, the dawning pause took seconds to pierce her consciousness.
"Do we have a Molly Hooper with us today?"
"Oh. That's me! Um… here."
"Welcome back to Earth, Miss Hooper. In future, it might be worth keeping an eye on William here, Hooper does follow Holmes in the alphabet, after all." Stung by the teacher's dry teasing, Molly blinked in confusion – surely the teacher hadn't got Ford's name wrong? It was certainly distinctive enough…
As the lesson went on, so did Molly's confusion – the teacher kept calling on "William", and Ford kept answering, one time even shooting a wink at Molly as Mr Henderson turned to write his answer on the board. She soon forgot her first day worries, the lesson blurring past in a cloud of empathetic embarrassment on her teacher's behalf – how could anyone withstand that much awkwardness?
As the bell rang, Molly steeled herself to be bold. Deliberately loitering as the rest of the class filed out, she lurked by the teacher's desk, willing him to look up from the paper he scribbled on before she lost her nerve.
"Oh! Molly, wasn't it? What can I do for you?"
"I just wondered, Sir… I mean, Ford… Sherrinford, that is…
"Who?"
"Sherrinford – that sits across from me?"
"The Holmes boy?"
"I guess? You called him William all lesson, Sir, and well… his name is Sherrinford, he said, and I thought I should tell you? So you didn't get it wrong next week?" As her confession tumbled from her mouth, Molly struggled to process the exasperated sigh from the older man at the desk.
"William Holmes is many things, Miss Hooper, but he is not cursed with such an extravagant name. He is, however, too clever for his own good, and not particularly kind to his peers… particularly if he can make them look foolish. If he gives you trouble, let me know, okay?"
"But he said… his name…"
"Look," the teacher cut in, his tone cloyingly kind against Molly's rising flush, "William S. Holmes - it's right here on the register. Now, I suggest you get moving, Molly – Mr Parker doesn't take kindly to people who are late for his class."
Scuttling out of the door, her shoulders hunched even further against the din, Molly prayed for an abandoned locker-room to hide in, or that her maths class didn't contain her new archenemy. Who even does that to someone on their first day in a new school? she thought to herself, anger rising. He doesn't even know the first thing about me!
Sliding into a table at the back of her next class, Molly kept her head resolutely tucked down, only mumbling responses to the sarcastic comments of the girl next to her when absolutely necessary. The running commentary did help speed the lesson along though, and Molly found herself thawing slightly as the lesson went on. Maybe this Sally (if that is her real name) could be a friend after all?
Trailing after Sally as the bell rang to signal first break, Molly found her way blocked by gangly arms and an attempt at a winning smile.
"Molly! Need any help finding your form room?"
"No thank you, William. I am more than capable. Now if you –"
"Damn, what did I miss?"
"Miss?"
"Was it Donovan? Should have anticipated old Turner would sit the girls in the top set together." Raising his hands to a steeple under his chin, frustration flashed briefly in William's eyes.
"Don- you mean Sally? No. I found it out, all by myself - I'm quick like that. But now you're in my way."
"Don't be like that…"
"Like that? Like what?! You play a mean trick on me, on my first day in school, and then you think I'm the one who needs be anything… Let me tell you, William Holmes, you couldn't pay me to spend any time with you now. Why on earth would you be so nasty?"
"Why? An experiment."
"An experiment?! People aren't chemicals, y'know! You can't just play around to see what reaction you'll get. You need to grow up!" Proud of her parting shot, Molly tried to push her way past, only to be brought short by a pull on her wrist.
"I am sorry, Molly Hooper." Looking insistently at her, William gave a slight squeeze to her wrist. "Forgive me?"
"Ha! Not in a million years!"
Looking back, the clock still ticking slowly down towards her wedding, Molly smiled. Hardly the best start to a romance, certainly not the ones you'd find in a book. But very them, she supposed. And no matter what name she called him, life with William Sherlock Scott Holmes would always be filled with experiments.