Right, so uh, takin' my first crack at writing Lost fic. I realize it's a pretty random-ass idea, but try to bear with me.
Commentate, please!
...
Richard hates this. Hates having to memorize a new home phone number, a new address, a new zip code. Hates this new neighborhood, this new house. He misses his old town, his old school. He misses Isabella, but in a sort of bitter, distant way, the way one might miss the satisfying sting of a paper cut.
Most of all, he hates that this new school starts an hour earlier than his old one.
He rolls out of bed with a disgruntled moan, silencing his alarm clock. He pulls his clothes on methodically, more from habit than actual thought process.
His mother is downstairs in the kitchen, nursing a mug of black coffee and reading Good Omens. She smiles and pushes the half-full pot across the table to him. "Morning."
"Nnh," he manages, grabbing a mug. "Dad not up yet?"
"Oh, you know he's not a morning person." She says cheerfully as Richard dumps sugar into his coffee and reaches for the cereal.
Twenty minutes later, he's standing in the rain under his slightly battered umbrella, watching the bus pull up. He climbs aboard resentfully, wishing for his own car, which is still in transit from the mechanic's in New York. The bus ride is only ten minutes or so but noisy and crowded, and he finds himself staring vacantly out the window as houses roll by.
A sudden weight in the seat next to him jolts him, and he turns in surprise to see a blonde girl smiling cheerfully. "Hi," she says. "I'm Juliet."
"Richard," he offers a hand and an automatic smile- he's more of a "best foot forward, make the most of a less-than-great situation" type of person than a "mope about your shitty predicament" person.
"You're new?"
He snorts. "Is it that obvious?"
"Nah," she assures him, leaning in conspiratorially. "This is just a very. Small. Town."
"Yeah, you're not kidding. No offense," he adds quickly. "But, well, I just got here from New York City, and in comparison..."
"Yeah." She laughs a little. "I gotcha. Big Apple New York to Little Potato Ohio. God, if I lived somewhere like New York I'd rather get stuck on a desert island than here. Want some gum?"
He decides, during the brief ride, that he likes Juliet's easygoing, down-to-earth manner. She gives him a few tips on survival in this new environment, typical high school stuff- don't sit in the front row, don't eat the mystery meat in the cafeteria, don't piss off the head of the football team, and don't stand out of the crowd. He listens with an amused smile, still watching the window as they pull up to the school. At the same time, a big, dark, smoke-belching muscle car screeches to a halt next to them, making sputtering, clicking, angry mechanical sounds. The car is what catches his eye at first- it's an old Dodge Charger, similar in make to his own Chevy Impala. It's what steps out of the car, however, that makes him tune Juliet's voice out and press his nose to the cool glass of the window for a better look.
The figure that slides from the passenger's side of the car is tall and thin and almost colorless, all cream and gray in the sheets of rain, the only splash of color on him the red Doc Martens on his feet as he hurries around to open the driver's side door. He looks about Richard's age, blonde hair plastered to his head under the downpour. He's wearing a many-times-too-big white sweater over his lanky frame. He has a pair of square-framed glasses- "hipster glasses" as Richard's old friend Charlie used to call them- pushed back on his forehead, water running down them into his eyes.
He's lovely.
Richard is not a born romantic, despite what his mother might say. He doesn't believe in love at first sight, doesn't believe in destiny or fate or soul mates or previous lives or any of that. But in this moment, he sees- a beach, a knife, a smile that holds ancient sorrow and endless forgiveness, a pair of blue, blue eyes. He hears- the creak of a ship at sea, the waves, a gentle voice speaking a language he doesn't understand. He feels- fear and loss and a love that hurts, that burns him from the inside out and stays far longer than it should.
"Hey, you mind if I bum a ride under your umbrella?" Juliet asks, gesturing at the folded bundle next to his backpack.
He's not listening to her anymore, though. He's watching this pale ghost of a boy take two aborted shuffle-steps back as the driver steps out of the car. He, too, is striking, but in the exact opposite way of the blonde- shorter, more solid, with buzz-cut black hair, a black leather jacket and fitted black t-shirt, dark jeans and a scowling, ruggedly handsome face. He jostles the other boy's shoulder in a manner that looks just shy of being painful, then catches him around the neck with an arm and drags him close in an embrace somewhere between playfully teasing and affectionately cruel, the taller boy tripping over his feet as he is dragged toward the school.
"Hey," someone taps him on the shoulder, and Richard jerks and looks bewildered at Juliet, who smiles without scorn and points at the umbrella.
"Oh, sure," he says, grabbing his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. As they step off the bus, he nudges her and nods at the two from the Charger. "Who's that?"
"Who?"
"Mister Badboy in Black over there and his friend."
She glances toward them. "Oh. That's Esau Locke. I don't uh... I don't remember his boyfriend's name."
"Boyfriend?" Richard asks, a little sharper than intended.
"Wellll, maybe not exactly. Don't mind me, I can't help but make assumptions." She grins briefly. "Why? Are you homophobic or something? I didn't really get that vibe from you."
"No, no! Ha, not at all. No." He glances sideways at her. "I just uh, didn't really expect people to be so, y'know, accepting of that kind of couple in such a small town."
"Oh, trust me, they're not. I've been trying to get a Gay-Straight Alliance started here for years- not happening. Small town, small minds."
"So those two aren't together." He tries to keep his voice casual as they mount the steps amongst the early-morning crowd.
"Not publicly, no." This time she looks contemplatively at him. "People talk, though- some figure they're brothers or something, but they have different last names and it's not like there's any family resemblance. I think most people just kind of assume they're bangin' on the down-low."
"No one's thought to maybe... ask them?"
"Not likely," Juliet says as Richard folds his umbrella, shaking the rain off it. "Esau's pretty much a brick wall- he's in charge of the Wrestling Club and the Boxing Club-"
"You have a Boxing Club but no GSA?" Richard asks incredulously, pulling out his class schedule and checking to see what room his first period is in.
"I know, it's ridiculous. So, yeah, he's pretty much terrifying. No one's gonna walk up and go 'So are you and that guy brother or buttbuddies?'. Even if it's true, no one's gonna mess with him."
"I can imagine." He clears his throat. "And, uh, his undetermined friend? He in charge of the Green Beret Club or something?"
"God, no," she laughs. "He's just- I'm not sure, he just has this sort of vibe. I mean, I know most of the people in our grade, but I don't even know his first name. He's a ghost." She squints, thinking. "The only person I've ever seen him hang out with, aside from Esau, is Hugo Reyes- Hurley, everybody calls him. Really nice guy, but kind of... big." She shrugs. "Socially awkward."
"Mm-hmm." He checks the time- five minutes to the first bell. He should be okay to ask a few more questions. "So he's a Senior? The blonde."
"Yeah..." She peers at him again. "Why're you so curious? You aren't really some crazy right-wing homophobe that's gonna, like, hunt him down and gay-bash him are you?"
"God, no! I'm-" He stops himself, weighing his options: he hadn't really planned on making any big gay waves here- at least until he gets a good feel for the place, but he's pretty sure Juliet's not going to go running to the local Bigot's Association. "I'm uh..."
"Gay?"
He must look startled, because she chuckles. "Relax, man, I'm messing with you."
"No, uh, I am."
"Oh!" Now she looks startled a moment before tilting her head and nodding. "I probably should've figured; the eyeliner's a bit of a tipoff."
"It's not eyeliner," he sighs long-sufferingly. "I just have dark hair."
"Mmhmm." Her smile turns crafty. "So. Only here five minutes and you're creepin' on the school psycho's boy-toy. What is this, a John Hughes movie?"
"Oh, hell no. I'm not that gay."
Laughing, she points at the stairwell to their right. "My class is upstairs, so I gotta go, but what lunch period do you have?"
"Uhh... Fourth."
"Sweet, same here. See you there?"
"Sure." He grins at her, glad the day seems to be looking up. "Bye."
"Good luck with your stalking!" She calls over her shoulder as she turns away.
He laughs again and jogs the rest of the way to his class.
The room is nearly full as he enters, hoping to find an empty spot and sit down before the teacher notices him and makes him stand up and announce himself. No such luck- the professor, a small man with thinning hair and big, staring eyes behind thick glasses catches his arm.
"Richard Alpert?"
"Yessir." He's learned to always start respectfully; it makes a good impression.
"Good, you're on time. Try to keep it that way and we'll have no problems." The professor- Ben Linus, the schedule says- points toward an empty desk. "Take a seat."
He does, sitting in the second row; closer than he'd like, but at least it's not the front.
"Now," the teacher begins, "Who here did not do the assigned reading?"
Sheepishly, Richard raises a hand.
Professor Linus gives a slight nod of understanding. "Yes, well, I couldn't exactly lay blame on you for not knowing the assignment, Mister Alpert. Unless you're in possession of telepathic powers that I have not been made aware of?"
"No, sir," Richard says with an uneasy smile- he's pretty sure he's not in trouble, but you can never tell with some teachers.
"Of course not," the bespectacled man says, turning his piercing eyes on the rest of the students. "But you'll need someone to catch you up on notes and discussions... any volunteers?"
The girl to his left raises her hand eagerly and the Professor smiles at her in a gently chastising manner. "Alex, I doubt you'll have time between History club, tutoring, and Archery club, but thanks for playing." He glances around again. "Anyone else? No?"
Richard steals a quick look around, shrugging apologetically at his fellow classmates and flashing his charming smile. Professor Linus sighs.
"An involuntary volunteer, then. Let's see..." He scans the silent kids in front of him. "Jacob, would you mind?"
Richard twists in his seat to see who he's been paired with, and his mouth opens on its own, a tiny breath escaping as he recognizes the blonde boy from earlier, looking up with wide blue eyes and a deer-in-the-headlights expression.
"What?" He asks a moment too late, staring around like the last person to get out of the way of an oncoming train.
"Would you mind giving Mister Alpert a hand catching up on our current subject? You are the resident expert." The teacher makes an exasperated little gesture at the board, apparently used to such vagueness.
"Oh." Jacob's eyes fall on Richard, who grins at him in what he hopes is a winning fashion instead of one that screams "I'd like to throw you onto that desk and take you in front of the whole class" or "that Esau guy better not be your boyfriend because I'd hate to have to fight him". As if he can read Richard's mind, the blonde boy immediately drops his gaze, nodding and hiding a blush that reaches his ears.
"Good," Linus states. "You two can talk after class and work out a when and where."
That settled, he orders the students to open up to page 815.
Richard spends the rest of the class peering over his shoulder.
...
Any ideas as to who Richard's parents should be? I have an idea, but I'm not sure if I'll use it, and I'd like to see if anyone else has a better one.
Also, any characters you'd like to make an appearance?
