A/N: Hi guys! This is my first Sherlock fanfiction I have decided to post. It is based off a dream I had and one of my best friendships ever. I don't know how long it is going to be yet, but please stick with me. Also they are in America and not England for a reason. That will be explained later though. Toodles! I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock

…

"I can handle myself mom," I said flatly.

"Well, according to this you obviously can't," She pointed at computer screen that held an email from my principal. The same email I had silently pleaded him not to send. It was a curt email about the bullying that had been going on with an attachment of recorded incidents. "You're going to move in with your father."

"But-" my father was the one man in this world I truly despised. He knew that he never listened to me, but always expected me to listen to him and take him and every word he said seriously. I had grades good enough to have a shot at doing what I really wanted in life, to become a doctor. He wanted me to waste my life away on what he considered a practical job, but I don't want to sit around everyday for the rest of my life working for some company.

"No buts. You are moving to your father's place and that is final," She walked out of the room before I could try to protest. I hated my school life her but I loved Chicago. Now I had to move to some crappy little town in North Carolina where my school life will probably turn out to be the exact same as it is here. I've never fit in and that wasn't going to change. I don't know why, but that is how it is.

…..

I sat on the bus. There wasn't even a goddamned airport in that town and my dad didn't want to drive here and get me or pay for a cab. The bus isn't even going all the way there. I'm going to have to sit in a car with one of his friends for an hour once I get off this bus. I would still rather stay in this cramped bus for hours than see my dad for 10 minutes. I knew the routine. He would lecture me on every small detail the second I got there then we wouldn't talk until he saw something else wrong with me. I thought about this until the bus ended up at my stop. When I stepped off I saw a strange looking man in a beat up car waving me over. I walked up cautiously. He didn't look very trustworthy. I raised my eyebrows at him until he spoke.

"Hello John. I'm your dad's friend, Carter," He said, sensing my uneasiness. I stepped into the car. I was too frustrated to question him further.

After what seemed like hours later, I arrived at my father's house. I can't imagine things getting any worse than that car ride, but at the same time I know they will. They defiantly will and there is absolutely nothing I can do to stop it. Once I stepped out of the car and pulled my bags out the man just drove away. I'm not saying I was going to miss him, but I was hoping he would come in and distract my dad from me for at least a little bit.

"Well, hello Johnny," My father said as I walked through the door.

"Don't call me that," I replied. I didn't even want to look at the man. It was too stressful. I turned my back on him and started to walk in the opposite direction of him. After a few steps I felt his large hand on my shoulder.

"Where do you think you are going?" He said in his regular stern voice.

"My room," I said curtly before attempting to shrug his hand off.

"You don't even know where it is," He wasn't about to give up. I knew he wouldn't, but it was worth a try.

"I used to live here. I'm not stupid. I know where it is," I said letting the irritation in my voice show through. I tried to shrug him off again, but he just held on tighter. "Let go of me. I don't even want to be here, so just-"

"Didn't your mother teach you any better?" He snapped, cutting me off mid-sentence. "Also, would you please stand up straight?" He said it way more like an order than a question. That was also typical of him. "And is your mother really letting you wear those clothes?"

I took the opportunity to walk away quickly when he used his hand to gesture to my clothes. I heard him yell at me from where he was standing for me to come back, but I didn't turn around. Once I got to my old room and locked the door I looked around. It was just how I left 10 years ago, before my mother left him when I was a kid. Even the childish sport-printed curtains were there. The stuffed dogs hadn't even been touched. There was not-so-thin film of dust on every thing.

I yanked the curtains down, rod and all, leaving just the plain blinds. I removed the bedding and linin from the bed and replaced them with my own sheets and a few blankets that I packed just because I knew this would happen. After tearing the room up completely I threw all the old stuff in a pile to put it in the bin when dad goes to bed. I dusted everything down with an old shirt I found and finally hung some posters up. I didn't bother putting my stuff away. I planned on leaving here as soon as possible.

…

My plan was to simply not even look at anyone. Just mind my own business. Be invisible. When I walked into my first class I didn't even bother to introduce myself. I just quickly went to the first empty seat I saw. When I sat down I was greeted with a short wave and quick smile from a boy with disheveled brown hair. I wanted to keep looking at his blue eyes simply because they were the most marvelous thing I have ever seen. I snapped out of my daze and smiled back before looking back to the front of the class.

It was like that for nearly the entire day. He was in most of my classes. We had science, English, and math together. The only class he wasn't in of mine was History. First period the only seat available was next to him, but after that I purposely picked my seats to be next to his. I could have been my need to not feel completely alone or it could be that I am gravitated towards him.