WARNINGS: This story will contain things that. Idk. I felt like writing because apparently when you get stressed you write terrible things.

If you're okay with pretty much everything then read away. But if you're like some people, and are bothered by things that should bother normal people. Then please do read the thing below. But it might contain spoilers *shrug*

#tw (yes lemme do the #tw thing shoosh) mentions of the following purging, possible suicide attempt, possible abuse, and definate homophobia and underage smoking/drinking.

Also, because I suck. This might be pretty dang ooc. It was a stress write, what can I say. If you find errors...cool.

Get hold of me on tumblr if you need something because I never leave there.

threehundredlittleducklings on the tumblr

You hum quietly to yourself as you slip your new notebooks inside your leather school bag. It was going to be your first day at this new school, "Jefferson High" you scoffed at the name. You were fairly sure every state in this country had at LEAST one Jefferson High… It lacked originality and was fairly commonplace.

Either way, the school itself seemed to be rather nice. Your father and younger brother had toured it earlier this month and had said it was gorgeous, you wondered how many students there were.

Would you make friends?

You were abruptly shaken from your thoughts as a loud knock rattled your door. Ah yes, your brother…

"Kankri get your fatass downstairs! The bus will be here any goddamn second and I'm not going to fucking wait for you!"

You could practically see the facial expression he was making on the other side of the door. You chuckled quietly and sighed.

Sometimes he hurt your feelings without trying to. But hey, it still hurt.

"Language Karkat, think about what father would say..." You scold him half-heartedly.

Of course father would probably not say anything, these days he was rather quiet… which was strange in itself.

"I don't fucking give a DAMN about what he thinks and you know that!"

You heard him rather lightly hit the side of the door and walk down the stairs muttering something to himself.

You smiled a bit forcefully as you grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder, you gave yourself a once over in the mirror.

Your dark brown hair was parted nicely at the side, but aside from the rather nice part, your hair itself was rather…unruly. You gently moved one wild lock from in front of your face and tucked it behind your ear to assess your features.

You didn't like your face, you never have. If you were being quite honest, you didn't like much about you, and neither did anyone you ever met. "Too fat" they'd say. "Too talkative" they'd say. "Too self-centered" "Too stuck up" the list went on forever… and just thinking about it made you sigh, you quickly looked away from your mirror and balled your fists lightly inside the sleeves of your favorite red sweater.. It was once your mother's... Your lovely, beautiful mother… You smiled just a bit before being jolted from your thoughts by a loud voice downstairs.

"KANKRI FUCKING VANTAS GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE NOW THE BUS IS LITERALLY RIGHT NEXT FUCKING DOOR!"

You smiled; you disliked your brothers cursing... true, but his personality made you smile... People liked him because of his mouth, because he wasn't afraid to say anything to anyone. Of course he wasn't popular by any means … At least half of the people that met him strongly disliked him. You quickly shook your head and ran down the stairs, you could think about this a different time.

You get downstairs just in time, the bus had just pulled up, you smile confidently and close the door to the house behind you. Father would be very upset if you left it unlocked, so you locked it like the responsible teenager you are.

You hurried to the bus and stepped inside, the smell is what caught you off guard.

What in on earth was that smell… it was just… terrible. It burned your nostrils, but everyone on the bus seemed immune to it.

You made a face of disgust and sat down near the middle of the bus, Karkat already way at the back. You turned your head to try to get a look at everyone on the bus.

You started at the back.

You thought to yourself, quietly looking over everyone, you landed on a particular group just a few seats behind you and across the narrow walk way. They all seemed to be talking to one another, there was a taller thin guy who looked to be of Hispanic origin, his hair was well... it was much worse than your own; he was quickly signing something to a shorter chubby Asian girl with long wavy black hair. She was grinning and signing back at the appropriate times.

A guy a little taller than you was watching the conversation, he looked completely awestruck. A voice caught you off guard, a deep voice...

"Wha's wrong Tuna? You see'em do that all the time?" The 'Tuna' guy just flinched a little at the voice and continued staring.

Your eyes landed on the man with the deep voice, he was taller than you... But of course that wasn't saying much. He had dark hair and it was slicked back, he had sharp features and wore the typical "greaser" attire... Who did he think he was, he was aware that the year was 2014 right? And not 1950?

Perhaps you'd ask him about that one day.

You continued to look him over quietly, then you froze, there it was, the terrible source of that disgusting odor.

A cigarette hung loosely out of the greaser guy's mouth. You frowned a bit and cleared your throat.

You were going to say something. What kind of a person would you be if you just let some guy your age smoke like that? On a bus of all places! Before you could stop yourself, the words poured out of your before you even had a chance to register them in your brain.

"Sir, could you please put out that disgusting cigarette? You are aware that they give you cancer right? I know it's probably because you look like you're trying to accomplish a typical 1950's 'Greaser' look, and that they indeed did stereotypically smoke cigarettes, but the smell is affecting me, and I'm going to assume I'm not the only one who dislikes it. I'm sure there is at least one person on this bus with Asthm-,"

You were quickly silenced by a ball of wadded up paper to the face. Of course; these people didn't want to hear you ramble as much as anyone else did, but they didn't have to be rude about it.

You grabbed the wad of paper and looked back over at the group. The two people who were earlier communicating with sign language were looking at you, the guy with his eyebrows furrowed and a sickeningly sweet smile on his face, he quickly signed you something and the man with the cigarette laughed.

"Damn Kurloz, be nice to the kid…,"

He took the cigarette out of his mouth and tossed it out the barely open window.

"Better? Now stop your fuckin' complainin' or Kurloz here'll make good on his threats." He motioned to the all too happy Mexican with the unruly hair.

You stared at him for a moment, biting your lip a bit; of course you really wanted to say something now. But instead, you just nodded slowly and took a deep breath in through your nose, the paper still clutched tightly in your left hand.

Today would probably be a very long day...

The rest of the bus ride happened in relative silence, you used the time to memorize your schedule, and thankfully your brother had picked it up while on the tour a while back.

Otherwise there was no doubt in your mind that you would be lost within moments of arrival.

The bus pulled up to the large brick building and you felt a bit of nervousness bubble up into your chest.

Great.

The bus finally halted to a stop and almost simultaneously, everyone stood up and towered above you.

Somewhere in the back of the bus you could faintly hear your younger brother cursing loudly at something.

You smiled a bit and stood up, wow, you felt really short. You heard a low whistle from behind you and a rough hand clapped onto your shoulder.

Your eyes widened and you quickly pulled away from his touch, your hands balled up inside your sleeves again. You took a deep breath to calm yourself before you were caught off guard by a voice.

"Damn kid, you're tiny. What grade ya' in?" You didn't have to look up to know who it was, you were rather sure that there was only one person on this bus who reeked of cigarettes, and had a rather deep strangely accented voice. Of course it would be him. You slowly turned to face him; he was at least a good 6' 7" whereas you stood at maybe a measly 5' 5".

"For your i-information, I happen to be a Junior…"

You couldn't stop the slight waver in your voice as you spoke; there were too many people, too many hands way to close to you. You took another deep breath and tried to calm yourself. The guy raised his eyebrow

"You okay kid? Need'a drink or something?" He shook a clear water bottle at you, and you were fairly sure that was not water.

You quickly shook your head.

Why wasn't the line moving?

Why was everyone still on the bus?

Come on!

"Cool... I'm Cronus. Nice to meet ya'!"

He smirked, well it was probably a smile, but it definitely came off as a smirk.

He patted your back again and you stiffened up again at his touch.

Finally the line started to move and everyone dashed out, leaving you behind in your seat, practically frozen. Karkat walked up from the back of the bus, oh, he was still here? He took one look at you and frowned.

"You okay? Come on, let's go inside..." He knew just from your face what had happened, someone had touched you.

You had a problem with that, you hated being touched, it was very invasive to your personal space and it really made you uncomfortable, so much as to even throw you into panic attacks from time to time.

You nodded and picked up your bag again.

"Good idea..."

Before you knew it, you were inside the large building surrounded by your peers. You glanced over at Karkat and he nodded to you before walking off. You looked down at your palm and remembered you still had the balled up wad of paper in it, you tossed it in the nearest trash can and pulled out your schedule to double check your classes. You read the first period class aloud

"Latin 3, room 273." Okay, you can do this. You can walk to your class like an average teenager.

You folded the paper back up and slipped it into your back pocket for safe keeping before heading off in the direction of your class. You couldn't help but feel self-conscious; people were obviously staring at you. Of course they were, you were a short fat Italian kid in a bright red sweater rushing down the hall. If you were them, you'd probably stare too.

You finally find your class and rush inside to discover that it's relatively empty; you let out a deep breath that you didn't know you'd been holding.

The teacher smiles softly at you, she's a shorter woman with kind eyes. The board reads "Ms. Black" in beautiful cursive, you smile back at her and take a seat at the very front of the class.

"Are you my new student? 11th grade right? .. Vantas?"

She walked over to you and gently placed a book on your desk.

You nodded up at her,

"Yes ma'am. May I ask how many students are in this class?"

She rubbed her chin in thought before clapping her hands together softly. "Five! Just one more student needs to arrive then we can start!"

You must have physically relaxed at that because she chuckled.

"Not a fan of large groups I see?" You nodded.

You heard her gasp happily and then she sort of skipped over to the door and hugged someone, your eyes widened slightly it was that guy, of course.. Of course it was him.

What was his name? Crayons? No.. Nobody would name their son Crayon's… Cronus! Of course, although naming your son after a Greek figure that ate babies was probably no better…

Ms. Black hung on Cronus happily, you could hear her telling him how glad she was that he was in her class, and informing him that he reeked of cigarettes!

At that he chuckled and she whacked him on the shoulder with a rolled up bunch of papers.

"Take your seat, love!" She smiled and Cronus nodded at you in greeting, taking a seat across the room from you.

Thank god.

You looked to the front of the room to see Ms. Black grinning.

"Okay class! As you all probably have figured out, my name is Ms. Black! My husband is Mr. Black, the French teacher and this is Latin 3! Congratulations, you've made it this far! Now, the four of you probably already know each other, but we have a new student here!," she looked over at you, still smiling "He's from South Carolina, and His name is Kankri Vantas! Kankri? Why don't you introduce yourself?"

Oh god… Great .

"My pleasure." You quickly stood up and tried to make a mental note not to ramble.

"My name is Kankri Vantas, as you've been told. I am 17. I come from South Carolina, and what possessed my father to move to Washington State is beyond me. I have a younger brother, Karkat, and I live with my Father." You paused to think of more to say, but Ms. Black happily clapped and asked you to take your seat before she started handing out papers for the class. You smiled a little and sat back down, tugging on your sleeves from the inside.