The very last year of high school had just begun ; and John had never hated that day as much as he did now.
He had never had many friends, but had always managed to find a few people that found his company worth something ; whatever that was. It was clear to him he wasn't loved by most of the students. He was really shy, rather clumsy, and the word "hardworking" was certainly an understatement when used to describe him. His one dream was to become a doctor, so he worked as hard as one could ; but when one's a teenager in his last year of high school, he's not expected to do so by his peers. Although he knew "not fun to be around" to be by far the nicest thing his "friends" could think about him. Friends he didn't even have now. First day, and he was already alone. Not that it was a surprise ; he hadn't exactly been close to them in any way. He was mostly the one to give them answers to their maths assignments and history essays. But still, it hurt to know he was not wanted anymore. A quick "hello", a few embarassed looks and akward silence was all it took for him to understand he wasn't welcome.
He sighed. This was hell already. He was back home, his science books open on his bed, but his mind was still at school, surrounded by laughters and stares. The door opened.
"Oh, it's you." John's attempt to a smile didn't seem convincing. Harry, his younger sister, quietly closed the door behind her.
"How are you doing ?" she asked. She seemed worried.
"Er, fine. Taking a look at this year's science program."
"I see that. That's not what I meant." She hesitated. "John, I – why didn't you ever tell me ?"
He sighed again. Harry was entering the same high school this year, and she noticed the looks her brother had been receiving all day.
"I didn't want you to worry. And, well, it wasn't that bad before. But I s'pose I'm better off by myself, am I not ?" Another failed attempt to smile. Harry frowned.
"You should've told me anyway." She pulled him close into a hug. "But don't worry, I'll be there for you. You won't be alone."
"No, no way.", he said quickly. He softened when he saw the look on her face. "You're pretty, and funny, and smart. People are gonna love you. I'm not letting you lose the friends you can have because your stupid brother can't get some for himself. And I certainly don't want you to be seen with Ugly Jumpers John", he said with a poor smile. "That would ruin your reputation."
"Well, this one's always better than On His Own Watson". John's eyes widened.
"They say that ?"
Harry bit her lip. "Er, I thought you knew..."
John sighed – again. "What a bunch of wankers. They don't have anything better to do, do they ? Well, anyway, your classmates don't know me, and no one knows I'm your brother, so you stay the hell away from me there. Alright ?"
"But John..."
"Don't even try. I won't let you. C''mon, let me work know." He kissed her forehead and pushed her out of the bed. She laughed and got up, but stopped near the door. John looked up. "What is it ?"
"Promise me you'll talk to me if something's wrong. Just talk. Please."
"I promise." She closed the door behind her.
The first week passed at a snail's pace. The teachers had been explaining the year's program of their own classes – which John already knew of – all week long, nothing interesting had happened, and John was still by himself. Every evening, Harry went to his room and they talked for hours. She tried to cheer him up, to convince him this wasn't important, that he was "better than any of them" and they were "not worth his company", but nothing seemed to make him feel any better.
It was Sunday, and it seemed her goal of the week end was to figure out who would be a suitable friend for her brother.
"How about that Kyle fellow ? He seems nice."
"He hates my guts since I pointed out "sex teacher" wasn't an actual profession. He said he was trying to hit on a girl and I made a fool out of him."
"Smooth."
"Well, to be fair, she would've bought it..."
"Ok, so, not him. What about that Dan guy ? I heard he's into science, too. You could get along."
"Did you actually spy on every senior last week ?"
"Not every. Just a few."
"Doesn't sound like a few."
"Ok, maybe most of them. So what ? I hate seeing you so miserable ! So, science buddy ?"
"No, not "science buddy", because I'm smarter than he is and he can't stand it."
"Oh, come on !"
"Hey, I can't help it. I wouldn't mind, but he does. What can I do ?"
"You're not helping."
"Look, Harry, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I'm not that desperate, really."
"Wait, there's still one on my list."
"Really ? Another?"
"He's in the same class as yours, a guy with a weird name, tall, dark hair, pale skin, always by himself. You could be alone together, I guess..."
"That guy ? Never."
"From someone who's crying at night because he's bullied – don't make that face, I heard you – that sounds really uncalled for. And mean."
"You don't understand. He's the only guy in that freaking school they hate even more than they hate me. I still have hopes, ok ? They don't actually hate me, after all, right ?" Her face seemed to waver between an "oh, please" look and worrying eyes. "Ok, maybe they do. But if I try to get close to that guy -which he probably wouldn't want anyway – I'm done. Just like you would be if they saw you with me. I can't afford that. I really can't." Harry took his hand.
"I wish there were something I could do", she whispered, her eyes glimmering with tears.
"Well, you trying to find me a suitable friend was actually entertaining." They laughed.
"I meant something useful. Something to get you through it. OUT of it." He pulled her into he hug.
"You already do. What would I do without you ?"
The next day wasn't better. Morning classes went on forever, but lunch break was the worst. He was sitting alone in a corner, and tables directly around him were all empty, despite the otherwise crowded lunch room. He noticed the same phenomenon around the student from his own class Harry and he had talked about the day before. He felt bad for him, but he couldn't get himself to talk to him. Like he had said to Harry, if he did, he was done.
First class of the afternoon was chemistry, and they would begin experiments this time. John usually liked that kind of classes, but not this time. He didn't even look up when he heard the dreaded words from the teacher :
"All right everyone, pair up ! Don't get the wrong lab partner 'cause it won't be easy to change later. Come on, quick !"
Chairs began to creak, people began to laugh and talk, and footsteps noises began to fill the room ; and when it was all over, John wasn't surprised to find himself still alone. The teacher went on.
"Ok, now that you're ready, open your books page... wait a minute, how come you're alone, mister Watson ? I don't think I have any missing student. ...Ah, mister Holmes, of course. You're alone, too. Er, could you come to the front with Watson here, please ?"
The boys barely looked up. "No, thanks."
"You heard me, young man. You have to work by pairs. I was being polite, not giving you a choice."
"I'm not going to the front", he replied, still not looking at her.
She rolled her eyes and turned to John. "Would you mind going to the back, then ?"
John bit his lip and got up in a sigh. This is it, he thought. This is gonna be the end of me. I'm done this time. He put his bag on a nearby chair and sat down next to his new lab partner without a single look at him. The teacher's voice rose again.
"Good ! Now, please turn to page 42."
John began to follow the instructions. The boy named Holmes didn't lift a single finger to help. He just sat there, his eyes lost somewhere only he knew. This didn't bother John, who would rather do all the work himself than work with someone who would ruin his efforts. He was so deeply focused that he nearly dropped the whole thing when the boy's voice rose next to him.
"You're doing it wrong."
John waited until his heart was back to a proper pulse before turning to his lab partner. "I beg your pardon ?"
The boy, casually sprawled on his chair, arms crossed on his chest, was eyeing the flask in John's hand.
"I said, you're doing it wrong." John tried not to look too irritated.
"I'm doing it like the book says, so I doubt I'm wrong."
Holmes smirked. "Yeah, because the book is right." John rolled his eyes and took a deep breath.
"And how exactly do you think is the right way, then ? Mind, showing me, maybe ? Or at least help a little bit ?"
"You don't want me to help."
"Oh, and how would you know that ?"
"Obvious. Anyway, you were about to hold it too close to the fire. You don't want that to warm up too fast ; or else I wouldn't be the one to waste your "efforts" as you fear I would." He paused. "Obviously."
For a second John feared to have exposed his thoughts at loud, but it appeared he didn't. He just shook his head and tried to ignore the boy, but still held the flask a bit further from the flame. He glanced to his right and saw the smirk on Holmes' face was back. He faced him.
"Ok then. If you know better, what's next ?" The greyish eyes stared at him. "What, you lost your tongue again ?"
"Why are you talking to me ?"
"Trying to get the work done. Now if you won't answer I'm just gonna go back to the book. Maybe it won't be wrong this time." One could hear the irony in his voice.
"You considered it because you took pity on me and desperately need a friend, but you never did because you knew it would only make things worse for you. You wouldn't even look at me at first. So why are you talking to me now ? You're ruining what's left of your reputation."
John stared before answering. He wasn't sure how the boy could possibly know all that, but he supposed it was rather obvious, given both their situations. He went with : "You talked first. I answered. That's what people do." Safer than to admit Yes, I am despised by everyone just like you but I am still too proud to give us both a chance to stop being alone.
Holmes didn't answer. He took the flask from John's hands, and two minutes later the experiment was over and done with. John frowned. "You didn't even look at the book. How did you do that ? .. Wait, you skipped at least three steps here... no, four ! And that wasn't in the book, either... though it was a good idea, I admit... but you weren't supposed to..." He looked up, and stared at the face in front of him, the bony features, the expressionless look in the eyes of steel, the skin, almost transparent under the neon lights. "Come on, you can't be that smart. What's the trick ?"
"There's no trick", Holmes replied, visibly upset by the use of the word. "It's the easiest thing, three-year-old me could've done it."
"So you've done it before."
"Of course."
"This is your second senior year, then." The boy's eyes widened.
"I'm sorry ? Second senior year ? The only reason I should be in college by now is because high school was too easy for me from the start – well, like every other school year of my life – not because I failed a school year !"
"Wow, sorry, didn't mean to upset you. No need to yell at me like that. I was just wondering."
"Well if you were observing instead of just wondering you would have noticed I am actually younger than you, not older. Two years younger, they were wise enough not to make me go through the easiest years. Not that these are presenting any kind of challenge..."
John was looking at him in amazement. "So... so you really are that smart." The boy seemed somehow a bit flattered for a second, but then his previous expression went back on.
"Indeed, yes."
"I didn't catch your first name earlier."
Holmes looked puzzled. "Why would you need it ?"
"Well, I'm not gonna call you Holmes all year, now, am I ?" He smiled and held out his hand. The boy eyed it for a moment, then shook it slowly.
"Sherlock."
Author's note : I am french, and I have no idea what English school is like ; so this story is only going to reflect my past experiences of french high school. I'm sorry if it doesn't sound like reality for English people.
