This story would not exist if it weren't for my friend, Kate, who threw out the idea for a premise. So I dedicate this fanfiction to her.
Thanks Kate
This story might take a long time for new chapters to be posted, but hang in there. I promise I won't abandoned it!
First day of school. A new school. John wasn't nervous though. He was actually quite happy. Happy to get away.
Away from the teasers.
The jerks.
The mockers.
The bullies.
He was ready for a fresh start. His move was simple. Sure it was a new house and a new neighborhood, but nothing changed in his family. Or how they though of him. His parents and older sister know him as a nerdy, independent, strong, straight 15 year old who was starting grade 10.
And he liked it that way. His reputation and his grades were excellent and he had lots of ignorant friends. Right up until June.
Then he decided to tell one. That one told another. And the other told the rest. And the rest told the whole school. The whole school told his sister. His sister pretended to be ignorant. John liked that. His sister never brought it up when she got the news.
As for his "friends", John never wanted to speak to them again. They became the teasers, the jerks, the mockers, and the bullies - the enemy. That is why he wanted that new school. That is why he told them. He might not see them ever again. And he new he wouldn't be telling anyone this time. Maybe one day he would tell someone, but it would have to be the one.
John pulled his hand-me-down brown back pack over his shoulder. Ignorance really was bliss, wasn't it. No one knows, no risks. John took the first step towards his new school, finally leaving his new house. To some extent, he did miss his old friends. Thorin had shared quite the few laughs with John. It made him trustworthy. That was a miscalculation.
John kicked a rock on the side walk. It slipped across the frosty way, like a flat rock skipping on the suface of calm water, until it skidded right off the curb and into the gutter. It just reminded John how fast a secret can slip from lips. John saw another stone. He slammed his foot down on it and that rock flew. He watched it glid down the icy walkway with such ease. It rocketed right to the next block, where it slid onto the road. For a moment, John was mesmerized by how far that rock had gone straight - until a car crushed it under its tire.
John crossed the road, jumping over the dirty slush that was mushed to the curbs. He reached the other side of the road and looked up for the first time during his first trek to school.
Baker Secondary; John's new high school. It was an old thing, more of a castle, but didn't seem to be falling apart by any means. In fact, it looked newly renovated, with the new blue paint on the outer walls and sharp white doors and window frames.
Many other kids were beginning to file through the doors, mostly in groups of two and three. It made John feel so out of place, seeing kids laughing and smiling with their life long friends that are so excited to get back to school.
Yes, John was excited, but as he walked through the front doors, the intimidation began to overwhelm him. He began to slow down, looking at the high cieling of the main hall. So many smaller halls branched from all around the central hall and kids were buzzing around, looking for instructions on where to go. John looked up to notice 3 more floors that had barred balconies circling the main hall. John felt pretty small in there. John had never been dubbed "the tallest in his grade", but everyone just felt that much taller here.
"whoa," John mumbled to himself, but the words barely left his tongue as he was bumped from behind. He stumble forward, then turned to see what had happened, taking one step back that he was about to regret taking.
"ah!" John lifted his right foot and saw a glimps of another retract from beneath. He turned back around to see a dark girl with frizzy, but tame, curly hair. John wasn't surprised to be looking up at her.
"I'm sorry," was his immediate reaction. At first she scowled, but saw the anxious expression on his face, and loosened up with a put on smile.
"that's ok. I'm Sally. I'm in grade 10. Are you one of the new grade 8 students?" she asked. John raised an eyebrow, seeing how played on this all was. She didn't want to be here right now; he could tell.
"actually, I'm in grade 10 as well," John said, forcing a smile.
"oh," she said distastfully. "You are pretty short for a grade 10." John just wanted to ball a fist and throw one at her. Everyone said that. Every god damn person thought he looked younger than he really was.
"but I am new," John said, keeping his cool. "and, quite frankly, I am very lost."
"wonderful," she said sarcastically. "I can show you to your first class and your locker. Your teacher can show you the rest."
"ok, thank you," John said with a smile. Sally smiled back and quickly started through the hordes of children. John followed her down the second hallway wing that was attached to the main hall.
"Can I have the paper you were sent in the mail?" she asked, still speed walking. John fumbled around in his pocket.
"this one?" he said, producing a folded up piece of paper. Sally plucked it from his fingers and unfolded it. She scanned it over quickly.
"room 221. You have Mrs. Hudson for Social Studies," Sally told him.
"is she nice?" john asked.
"bundle of joy," she said flatly. John scratched his head as she handed the paper back to him.
She turned left, John turned left. She turned right, John turned right. Then Sally went up the stairs, John went up the stairs. Sally turned left, John turned left. She stopped. John almost bumped right into her, again.
"here is grade 10 Socials class," she said, turned around and walked away.
"wait a second!" John called out to her. Sally turned around, arms crossed. She was so intimidating like that. Stern and expectant. John was silent for a second before he swallowed and said, "what about my locker?"
"right there," she pointed across the hall beside a boy who was at another locker. "Number 2666." As soon as she replied, she left. John looked through the glass window of his class, only seeing a few students sitting around, and decided not to go in there yet. He looked at his locker. That boy had his locker right beside John's. He walked over to his locker as confidently as possible, acing the combination first try. The boy beside his locker was tall and thin. He wore quite dark clothes and he looked like he didn't want to be disturbed. John dumped his bag in his locker then shut it.
He could feel prying eyes burning holes into his left side. John gave a sideways looks at the boy. From beneath the dark, thick curls, the boy's eyes flared intensely. As soon as he saw John look back, the boy quickly turned away into his locker. John then thought it was a good idea to go to his class now. He quickly marched across the hall and opened the classroom door.
Upon opening that door, everyone looked up at John. All the eyes were fixed on him like moths to a big bright light. The teacher wasn't in the room yet, and there wasn't a sound coming from anyone. One group of kids, 2 boys, smiled at him, then said, "Hey Sherlock, come sit with us."
John was utterly confused. Who did they think he was, some fictional character from some fictional book? Then, John realized they were looking past him. He looked over his shoulder and saw that curly haired boy who owned the neighboring locker to himself glaring at the two boys.
"No," the boy said rather bluntly and strutted over to the back of the room where he picked an empty table to slam his books down on. The one boy said to the other, "I told you he hasn't changed. He's Sherlock. He will always be antisocial and sour." The other boy shook his head with a frown.
"I know that one day he will realize that having no friends is a very lonely life to lead," the other boy said.
John stood there in the door frame, staring at the two boys. They obviously saw him and began to stare back.
"um, are you new?" the one boy who had shiny black hair and wore a diamond plaid sweater asked John. At first, John was tongue tied. He couldn't find any words to explain himself. A jumble of studdered noises came from his vocal cords. The two boys gave him a strange and questioning look before they looked at each other.
"is the word you are looking for yes?" the boy with the faux leather jacket and dirty blonde hair asked John, almost with a chuckle.
"yes," John agreed, smiling in relief. The boy patted the chair beside him and John hopped over and sat with a sigh.
"my name is Greg, that is Philip," the boy in pleather said, holding out his hand. John took it and gave it a hardy shake.
"my name is John," he said introducing himself. "Nice to meet you Greg and Philip."
"what school did you come from?" Philip asked. Oh no, John thought. Here come all the usual questions. The ones that usually add up to a few more personal things John really didn't want to reveal.
"Rivendel high," John replied.
"do you miss your old friends?" Philip asked.
No. Not in the slightest way.
"ya, it was a hard move," John lied. Greg and Philip nodded in sympathy. They sat there in an awkward silence for a few moments, before John brought up a burning question of his.
"so, you know Sherlock?" John queried. Philip smiled mischeviously.
"oh, we know Sherlock," he said, still grinning. Greg rolled his eyes.
"everyone knows Sherlock," He corrected. "He is known by everyone, but no one really knows him, you know what I mean."
John shook his head. Greg leaned over and cupped a hand to John's ear.
"Sherlock doesn't really have any friends," he whispered. He backed up and they all looked at Sherlock.
Sherlock sat at the corner table, his nose in a book.
"He is so unknown to anyone. He just won't let anyone get close to him. All he does is read and do crosswords in the local paper. And he is really good at them. By the break, he is finished," Philip explained. Sherlock suddenly looked up from his book, already staring straight at them. They all quickly turned back around.
"personally, I think he is a real creep," Philip said. Greg nudged him hard.
"come on, I bet he is just misunderstood," Greg said in defense. Philip shrugged.
"doubt it. Just look at the bloke," anderson said, and they all looked back at him again. Sherlock was scribbling away in a notebook now. "I still think he is a bit of a weirdo."
Greg shook off Philip's comments and patted on John on the back. "Welcome to Baker Secondary!"