A/N: WhoooAAAA I'm back! Nope, I'm not dead. And yes, I have started another new fic even though I've got chapter fics that haven't been updated in over a year and oneshots that are 90% finished sitting in my documents. *shrug*
And I promise (again) that I really truly am trying to get back into the swing of writing and posting frequently. I got swept up with excitement when I learned how to make fanvids and really put my fics aside for those for a while. Not only that, but between moving in with my boyfriend, college, and starting a new job I've been very swamped and unmotivated. Plus, we don't have Internet at home so I can't exactly just pop something up on a whim anymore. I have to walk to McDonalds and steal their WiFi and it's just inconvenient uGH.
But enough of that...
Believe it or not, I've actually had this "Triles takes on the robot baby assignment" storyline in my list of fic ideas since waaayyy before Next Class was a thing. But, since they're actually taking on that storyline this season, I decided to hurry up and write it the way I imagine. So that way, if (when) the writers let us down, us broken-hearted Triles fans have something more positive to come to.
I did tweak my original idea around a little to fit the description that was leaked by ABC 3 in Australia:
"Tristan, worried about pressuring Miles and straining their relationship, takes over their robot baby assignment."
It's extremely unlikely I'll actually finish this before the episode premiers since it is in a few days, so I'll just be going on with what I planned to write despite what happens.
Also, I couldn't decide what teacher should be in charge of this class so I made an OC and made them nonbinary because wHY the fuCk not?!
The fic is titled after the song "Training Wheels" by Melanie Martinez.
Hope y'all enjoy! Reviews are always welcome!
Training Wheels
Ch. 1 - "Band-Aids"
Tristan sashayed into the classroom just as the final bell for first period rang, letting the large gathering of students inside know it was time to stop reminiscing on the antics of winter break and shift back into school mode for another semester. He knew Maya and Goldi both had World History as their first class, and Zoe's schedule left her with a spare first thing in the morning. So, she didn't have to show up until second period. Still, he scanned the scene to check for any somewhat familiar faces that may not be totally catastrophic to share Family Studies with.
He spotted Jonah in the back, who he vaguely knew as a member of Maya and Grace's band, but made the quick decision that the gay and the religious were never a good match. Besides that guy Scott from the swim team that he hooked up with last term, which he was definitely not looking to rekindle, there was nobody he recognized as more than a face in the hall. Not even a Novak or a Cardinal good for the occasional conversation to pass the time.
He slunk into an empty seat in the second row, trying to convince himself it wouldn't be such a bad thing to have one class to himself. Perhaps he could expand his horizons and meet some new sorts of people. Student Council could surely benefit from some fresh opinions every once in a blue moon. Plus, he chose Family Studies as this semester's elective because it sounded intriguing. Well...more so than Wood Shop or Financial Accounting, anyways. And at least he didn't have to worry about a certain troublemaking Hollingsworth coming around to mix things up - which, Tristan really wasn't sure he was actually happy about.
He knew he should have been relieved that Miles was going off to boarding school and finally getting out of his hair. But he couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed. Sure, their relationship was just about as messy as Britney Spears' 55 hour marriage. But after their #MilliganMeltdown at the election debat last term things actually started to cool off. Maybe they weren't on the best terms, but they weren't on the worst either. Miles had apologized for his obscene mistakes and could have saved Tristan's life if Hunter had actually brought a gun to school. The fact that their last interaction besides a few friendly texts would forever be a wary goodbye at a school dance was eating at Tristan like he was the latest Chompy Chicken special. And if he was being completely honest with himself, he knew he would miss Miles. Those glossy green eyes, his warm hugs, even the way those horrid salmon colored pants clung so perfectly to his...
But Tristan couldn't let himself dwell on all that. He had to focus on making the most of his young life without Miles - efficiently running student council, passing his classes, his role in the school play. He fixed his tired eyes to the front just as Mx. Carson stepped away from the board, revealing where they had written "BABIES!" in big, blue letters. They read the word aloud and the last few murmurs from students quickly quieted, ready to pay attention to whatever their teacher had to say.
"I'm not here to go over how they're made. Because I know you all got that talk in Grade 7." They started, walking up and down the room to size up the attention of the entire class.
"But, for some of you, I'm sure that wasn't enough to scare you off from the enticing temptations of getting down and dirty at your adolescent age..."
They cleared their throat at a straight couple in the back who tried to sneak a tasteless kiss, and sent the rest of the class into a fit of muffled giggles and eye rolls.
"Settle down!" They firmly instructed before continuing on with their lecture. "But! Believe it or not I'm also not here to tell you not to have sex. What I am here to do is to show you what can come of it, and to handle one of the trials of what you kids today call adulting.
In this class, you'll all learn a lot of valuable information on communication and motivation and what it takes from an individual to contribute to a family. But first, I wanna let you try something out on your own. You will all be given robot babies. Yes - just like I'm sure you've all seen in one of those Netflix teenage dramas. These babies will need to eat, sleep, poop, and be cared for just like the real thing..."
Tristan cringed a little at the thought of having to lug around some screaming, excreting hellion all day. Was it too late to switch to Financial Accounting? He could only sigh, knowing too well that it was. Maybe a baby wouldn't be all bad. Kids could be cute, right? There's no way his offspring could turn out to be one of those snot-nosed, ankle biting kind of brats he sees half-dead parents dragging around through Toronto. His future son would be an angel. A class act. And definitely the best dressed tot on the playground, if anything.
Mx. Carson went on to pass around small stacks of brightly colored paper, declaring that it would be the currency they could use to provide their children with the necessary supplies.
"This school will be considered your workplace. You're all being given $400 to start with..." They explained as Tristan grabbed his stack from their hands.
"But after this week, it's $10.50 an hour per each hour you spend in school. That means if you skip out on school, you skip out on a day of pay. And yes, I will be checking."
They went on to explain the basic ins-and-outs of the assignment. That daycare could be provided by them for a small fee during the school day if we so chose, and any baby left in daycare, lost, forgotten about, or neglected in any way resulted in a mock CPS investigation and a serious loss in points. Supplies like diapers and bottles and whatever could be purchased during the class period or for an hour after school. Some of us would be paired up with partners, and others would be left as single parents.
One by one they called out names, instructing half of his classmates to go up and pick their fate from a slip of paper inside a hat. Tristan sat and waited for his name to be called in one way or another with a mild anticipation, watching as Scott and Jonah and other random classmates got up to take their picks. Each time someone announced their status he did a mental scan of who was left, trying to narrow down his options out of pure boredom. He wondered if the universe would play for irony and pair him up with a guy, or if he'd have to pretend to bat for the other team for a while. Hell, maybe he'd end up single? It would be an accurate depiction of his life thus far.
"Tristan Milligan." The teacher finally called him dead last before looking into the hat with a sour face. "Looks like you're a single pringle! Unless, our missing student ever decides to show up."
Like clockwork, or very cliche' writing, the closed door slammed open. The sound nearly masked the apology from the flustered brunette that entered as he handed his wrinkled late slip over.
"Miles Hollingsworth..." Mx. Carson read his name aloud before crumpling the paper into a lopsided ball and taking a perfect shot to the wastebasket. "Congratulations, you're a father! Have a seat next to your new baby daddy."