There's A Class For This
Chapter Two
September 2013
A/N: Please don't forget to review! I'm taking a stab at Uni!Lock (or College!Lock, whichever you prefer to call it) and I would really like feedback as to how y'all think I'm doing! In my mind, I think that Sherlock wouldn't be as hard as his is while attending university, but still a bit like himself, but also that if he met the right person before he became too cynical and "sociopathic", that maybe he could change just a bit. So, SERIOUSLY, LET ME KNOW HOW I'M DOING! :) I have a few chapters of this already written, but it's not finished yet. So, if I need to change something, tell me! XOXO
Ryleigh had sat herself down at a table at the far end of the dining hall and had pulled out her day planner, when John walked up, packed her stuff back into her bag, and grabbed her hand, pulling her up from her chair.
"What the hell are you doing?" She asked, as he pulled her into the crowd of people towards another table.
"I've been socializing, meeting people."
"Oh, of course you bloody have. I don't want to meet anybody." Ryleigh complained as John stopped at a table with 4 other people already sat in the chairs.
"Shut up, Ry. This is Greg, Molly, and Sally. And you already know Phillip."
Ryleigh growled at the greasy-haired boy, whose lip was turned up in a half-snarl. "Anderson." Ryleigh rolled her eyes.
"Morrison." Anderson snarled back.
"Have you forgotten that your girlfriend is my roommate?" Ryleigh asked, eyeballing Sally.
"How could I forget?" Anderson rolled his eyes.
"Well, I was just thinking that she might be glad to know that you've found someone to keep you warm at night while she's out of the country at her grandmother's funeral, is all." Ryleigh tossed her bag on the ground and sat down with a smug look on her face.
"What the bloody hell are you getting at?"
"Oh, please. You and Miss Sally here both smell like that god awful shampoo of yours. Do the math."
Sally opened her mouth, but before she could respond, Anderson had swiftly stood up and grabbed her hand, pulling her away.
John ran a hand through his hair before sitting next to Ryleigh. "You've wondered why I won't let you meet my roommate. That- That right there is why. He does that same shit and it's annoying. It's our second year of Uni, Ry, and you have yet to make any friends."
"I don't need friends, John. I've got you." She watched as John glanced to Molly and Greg. She gave a defeated sigh and turned towards the two others sharing their table. "Molly, weren't you in my Sociology class last year with Professor King?" Ryleigh shot a forced smile to John and turned back to Molly.
"Oh, uhm, yes, I was. I sat right in front of you." Molly blushed.
"Are you taking her Psychology class this year?" Ryleigh reached as John opened up a bag of crisps and stole one from him. "She said I was one of the first ones to sign up."
Molly grinned as she realized that she might actually have a conversation with the raven-haired girl. "Oh, yes. I think she's wonderful. I almost missed the chance at getting a slot in her class."
"Oh, good. At least I'll have someone to talk to in class now. John thinks he's too good for psychology." Ryleigh laughed and Molly glanced at John before letting a small giggle escape her lips.
"Oh, look at the time." John checked the pretend watch on his wrist, rolling his eyes. "I have a class to get to. Ry, meet me at my flat around 7:30. I get off work at 7."
Ryleigh nodded and kissed John on the cheek as he stood up and walked away.
Ryleigh walked into John's dorm without knocking, expecting to see him at his desk, but jumped slightly at the sight of a tall boy with dark, curly hair staring out the window and holding a violin.
He turned around at the noise from the door and sighed. "You aren't John." He said in a deep voice.
"Sorry." Ryleigh replied. "But neither are you. You're about four feet too tall and your hair is too dark." And those cheekbones! She thought. "You must be Sherlock. You're taller than I imagined."
"I usually take precautions of a good coat and a short friend, but I have neither of those with me at the moment. And you are?" He asked, setting his violin down and plopping down in a recliner.
"I'm Ryleigh." She responded, scanning the large living room. Seriously? I'm still stuck living in dorms and John gets to live here? Really?
"Oh, yes. John's girlfriend."
"Not his girlfriend. Definitely not." Ryleigh responded a bit too fast. "Did he tell you I was his girlfriend?"
"No, but the way he talks about you, I just assumed." Sherlock shrugged. "So, if you're from Glasgow, how did you meet John?"
"I moved to London from Cardiff."
"How old were you when you moved to Cardiff, four? Five?" Sherlock asked.
"Six, actually. I never told John I was from Scotland." Ryleigh furrowed her brow.
"Oh, close enough."
"How did you-" Ryleigh began to ask, before Sherlock interrupted her.
"You still have a bit of a Scottish accent, with some Welsh leaking into it. It was just a hunch, really. Not to mention that Morrison is one of the top ten most common last names in Scotland."
"Oh, gods, now I get it." Ryleigh ran her hands through her hair. "It actually is the tenth most common, by the way."
"I'm sorry, you get what?"
"Why John didn't want me to meet you. And also, what it feels like when I tell somebody something about themselves that has bad memories attached to it. I never understood why people get so angry."
"If people paid more attention to their surroundings and the others that inhabit them, everyone would know everything about anyone. People see…"
"But they don't observe?" Ryleigh laughed. "Wow, John was right. We are scarily alike." Something caught Ryleigh's eye and she had to do a double take. "You- Uhm, you have a skull on your mantle."
Sherlock glanced at the skull and then back at Ryleigh. "Yes, that's Billy. He's a friend."
"Are you a murderer? Should I worry about John?" Ryleigh forced a chuckle. "Please tell me you didn't murder a man and then keep his skull. Even if you have to lie."
Sherlock let out a genuine laugh. "Oh, no. It was a Christmas gift a few years ago from my brother, the twat that he is. I believe it came from a man who died in the 50's and donated his body to science." Ryleigh stared at the boy in front of her. His blue eyes looked like they housed galaxies and she just wanted to run her fingers through his curls to see if they were as soft as they looked. "Is it bothering you?"
"Now that I know you aren't a killer, it's actually pretty fascinating. I, uh, I have a mummified cat that usually sits on my desk. My great-great-grandfather brought it back from Egypt in the 20's. I'm glad I like it so much because I can't ever sell it. The story goes that he stole it from a tomb and I don't want to see if that's true or not. If it's stolen and I tried selling it, I could get arrested."
"Well, mummified Egyptian cat definitely beats human skull. You win this round, Ryleigh." Sherlock chuckled. He studied the girl up and down. He noticed how long her legs were; longer than should be humanly possible, he decided. As he stared into her eyes, he felt an unfamiliar tug in his groin and he quickly averted his gaze.
"You were in almost all of my classes last year, but I don't think I actually ever saw you attend." Ryleigh mused.
Sherlock laughed. "I usually show up late, make sure the professor sees me, and then take a seat at the back. Last one in, first one out. More important things to do, sometimes."
Just then, the door to the flat burst open and John stormed in. He looked pissed off at something until he noticed Ryleigh and Sherlock talking and then his look changed to one of almost absolute horror. "No. No, no, no. No. Nope. Nope. Ryleigh, we're leaving. Now."
"Why? I was just having a chat with your roommate. And besides, you've lived in this flat almost a year and I've never even seen it. Also, Emily got back earlier and Anderson is stinking up my dorm. Remind me why I haven't gotten my own flat yet?"
"Because you can't afford it. Now, come on. We'll go out and eat or something."
Ryleigh rolled her eyes and slung her purse back over her shoulder. "Fine. You're paying." John nodded and pulled off his work apron.
"Sounds good. Let me just change. No more talking!" John walked off to his room and barely closed the door.
"Sherlock, would you like to-?" Ryleigh began.
"NO!" John yelled from his room.
"No, but thank you for the offer. John is obviously perturbed by something and I wouldn't want to intrude." He was being so polite to Ryleigh that she wanted to smack him.
John came out of his room pulling his shirt over his head. "Ready? Good." He didn't even give her time to answer. "I'll be back later." He said to Sherlock as they walked out the door.
Ryleigh gave a small wave and then they were gone.
"Now, will you tell me what the bloody fuck that was for?" Ryleigh asked as they sat down in their booth.
"What?" John asked, glancing at the menu, blissfully oblivious to the daggers Ryleigh was glaring at him.
"Dragging me away from Sherlock! I was only trying to be polite."
John scoffed. "Sherlock doesn't do polite. He does rude and oblivious. Not so much unlike yourself at times."
"Is that why you haven't wanted me to meet him? Because we're alike? If so, that is incredibly hypocritical of you, John Watson. Here you are, trying to get me to make friends with… Ordinary people… And you've been hiding the one person besides you that I could possibly get along with!"
John rolled his eyes. "Oh, here we go again with that 'ordinary people' bullshit! Do you realize that I'm one of the ordinary people you talk down to on a daily basis?"
"No, you aren't ordinary. You're my John and you are anything but ordinary. Can I smoke in here?"
John picked up the ashtray sitting on the table and placed it in front of Ryleigh. "I still don't see the problem with trying to make friends. It's human nature to want to make friends." Ryleigh pulled out a cigarette and lit it, causing John to scrunch his nose. "That's a horrible habit, you know. Sherlock does the same shit. He'll just sit in the living room at all hours of the night smoking one after the other."
"It helps me think and right now, I need to do a lot of thinking." Ryleigh took a long drag off of her cigarette and blew the smoke upwards, away from John. "Look, do you think I'm going to replace you with Sherlock? Because I'm not. It would just be nice to have someone to talk to that thinks like I do."
"And again, do you not understand how it makes me feel when you talk about how different you think or how no one is as smart as you? That's exactly what he does! So, yes, I do think you would replace me with him because I'm not like you; either of you. Putting you and Sherlock together would immediately make me the third wheel; the ordinary third wheel."
"John, please stop. You are you. Sherlock is Sherlock. And I am me. I couldn't replace you with Sherlock because I wouldn't want to lose you. You are one of a kind, John Watson, and I love you for it."
John blushed. "Uhm, well, good, I guess. Do you want a beer? I need a beer."
"I think I'll have a glass of wine, actually. Can I see your mobile? I think I left mine in my dorm and I need to remember a couple things. I'm just going to text them to myself."
John handed over his phone and Ryleigh found her way to John's contact list. As the waitress came up to take their drink order, which John gave, Ryleigh scrolled through John's contacts and copied Sherlock's phone number to send to herself.
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