A/N: Pretty incredible how much of an impact this story has made on people. Thanks to all the great feedback and especially the reviews. Review with suggestions. I need all the help I can get.

It was funny how one square of concrete can seem so big.

That was all that was standing between him and the door to Oliver Ordell High School. Weird name. All the upperclassman around him wore sweatshirts with the acronym on it, and Finn kept reading "OOH" over and over again.

Finn stared down at his white high-tops, wiggling his toes on the pavement. Every now and again, someone would bump his shoulders as they pushed past him, streaming into the double doors in front of him like so many bees into a hive.

Bees into a hive… that wasn't half bad…

With a practiced movement, Finn shoved the sleeve of his blue sweatshirt up and grabbed a chewed-up pen from his pocket. He never lost his pens; he just used and chewed them until they fell apart or ran out of ink. Jake would usually find one or two spread across the laundry after Finn forgot them in his pants pockets.

Tongue poking out of his mouth slightly, Finn scribbled a note to himself on his arm: bees into a hive. He'd have to use that later. Maybe in the new story about ninjas stealing diamonds…

"Hey, yo!"

Finn felt a sudden, dull pain in his shoulder, instinctively throwing out his hands as he was pushed to the ground. Sudden flashbacks of his middle school in Boston shoved violently into his mind. Bullies?

"Check yourself, bear-head!" the voice called again. Finn raised his eyes just in time to see a red plaid shirt round a corner quickly on a skateboard. The boy didn't turn around, and Finn scowled.

Jerk.

Gathering up his notebook and looking in vain for his lost pen, Finn straightened himself out. He had been shoved over the crack on the concrete. It was now or never.

"Alright, Finn the Human," he muttered to himself, squaring his shoulders and marching through the double doors. "Adventure Time!"

More like Boring Time.

His math teacher had introduced himself as Mister Leningrad, screeching the name out on the chalkboard in big, capital letters. From the top of his shiny bald head to the bottom of his shiny shoes, his gangly, jaundiced math teacher was just… weird. His voice went high and screechy at random points, and if a student raised their hand in confusion he'd make an odd noise; something like a groan and a yell. Worst of all, he had been talking for twenty minutes straight, and Finn wasn't yet sure he was speaking English.

Something about X and Y and why were they trying to find them again? Who cared what X equaled? If X had this many problems it needed to solve, it could go figure them out by itself, thanks very much. Finn had enough problems.

And why were there even letters around to begin with? Letters belonged in English, which Finn liked. Numbers belonged in Math, which Finn didn't. Did some of the letter get up one day and go, "I sure am tired of being all English-y. Let's go be numbers for a while"? Well, stop it! Stay over in English class where you belong! Don't go getting up in Math's grill!

Needless to say, Algebra was not going all that well.

Finn let his head slump to the surface of the desk. Stupid block periods meant four classes a day. Four LONG classes a day. There was an hour left before science started. An hour of watching X and Y act out their little soap opera on the board while Mister Leningrad gargled on his own anguish in front of him. Was high school fun yet?

And then, Finn felt something tickle his face. His head snapped up in time to see a small slip of paper drift by his face and land on the desk. A note? Who would have passed a note to him? He didn't know anyone.

Finn held the note under the desk, folding it open. In blocky handwriting were the words:

Hey- Leningrad is a crazy poot-face.

Finn chuckled to himself, unthinking of the consequences.

"MISTER MERTEEEEEENS!"

Finn felt his stomach drop into his shoes. His eyes snapped up to find Leningrad staring daggers at him, eyes narrowed. He raised a hand to point. "What is that… thing?"

"Nothing," Finn responded quickly. Leningrad scowled and thrust his open palm under Finn's nose.

"Give," he commanded. The rest of the class began to titter. Finn swallowed and shook his head. Leningrad's eyes widened. "GIVE! NOOOOW!" he howled. Stunned, Finn handed the note to him, and the teacher read it quickly.

The result was electric.

Leningrad's eyes widened, then narrowed, then widened again. His face grew red, ears flushing scarlet. The room went silent once again. Leningrad sucked in a sharp breath through his nose that sounded like a walrus getting a colonoscopy.

"MERTENS! DETENTION! TODAY! LUNCH! GO TO THE… DETENTION PLACE!" Leningrad kept giving him a smoldering glare for a while longer before stalking away, back to the board.

Finn sunk down in his seat as the room began to laugh.

The biology room was at least a little more interesting. At least, it would have been if his fellow freshman from last period didn't keep smirking when he walked by them. But who wrote the note? No one seemed guilty, or proud of themselves. The looks they gave him where somewhere between "Oh, there's a bug on the floor" and "I think I saw that kid in McDonald's one time."

But BioLab was cool. Beakers, test tubes, incubators- everything you needed to be a mad scientist, minus the lab coat and evil laugh. As he made himself comfortable on his stool, a girl sat down next to him.

Her hair was long and black, constantly falling out from behind her ear. She gave him a look out of the corner of her eye, and got an odd expression on her face. Something about her intimidated him. But, remembering what Jake said, he tried to be friendly. He raised his hand in a half-wave. "Hey. I'm Finn."

She looked him up and down, nodded, and looked away. Finn frowned, trying not to feel too disappointed as the teacher took the front of the room.

He was short, fat, and round as an egg, and introduced himself as Gunter (no last name, no 'Mister,' just… Gunter). In a squawky voice he told them to complete a lab worksheet, mixing a few harmless chemicals to make a solution change from clear to green to pink to clear. Then, he retreated back to his office and shut the door.

The class erupted into chaos. Boys flicked syringes of chemicals at each other; girls abandoned their tables and started talking, and one muscle-bound boy named Ricardio began taking bets on whether he should drink the clear stuff or the pink stuff and which would kill him.

Finn was so busy watching his BioLab become "Lord of the Flies" right before his eyes that he almost didn't notice the girl next to him start to laugh. He spun on the spot to find her staring over his head and giggling. But there wasn't anything behind him. Only a window.

And a boy behind it, crouching in the bushes. He was peering through the low window, white-blonde hair falling long onto his back. His T-shirt read "KISS MY ASH." Finally, he caught a glimpse of the girl next to Finn and grinned at her, waving her over. The girl swept her stuff into her backpack, catching Finn's incredulous eye and smirking at him. Her teeth were very, very white.

As he watched, curious, the girl went to the window and opened it. Mullet-boy stuck his head through and whispered to her. She nodded eagerly, shoving her bag out the window and swinging a leg through. Finn couldn't help but grin. Sneaking out on the first day? She had guts.

Then, a door squeaked from the front of the room and Gunter appeared. The room went into a dead hush. Ricardio tried to hide a fizzing container behind his back. Gunter looked at them with glazed eyes, blinking slowly. "What's going on?" he squawked.

Finn looked to the side. The girl was halfway out the window, desperately trying to keep herself from falling either way. Mullet-boy was nowhere to be found, and she didn't look too happy about that fact. She gave him a look of silent pleading. There was a cabinet in her way, but Gunter only had to take one more step before he saw her in full.

And so, for reasons he didn't quite understand, Finn did what felt natural in the situation. He grabbed every beaker within reach and poured them into the same cup.

And the room exploded.

To be fair, as Gunter explained to him later, it didn't really explode. Finn had managed to set off a reaction in the beaker that caused a small fire and singed the front of Finn's shirt and eyebrows. He didn't even appear to be angry; more impressed that a freshman could screw up that badly in fewer than ten minutes. Jake was less impressed. He chewed out Finn in the nurse's office a few minutes later as a burly woman in a too-tight uniform held a cold compress to Finn's forehead.

It sounded something like: "What-the-hell-were-you-doing-you-moron-here-less- than-a-day-and-you-blow-up-a-lab-what-did-I-tell-y ou-this-morning-because-it-wasn't-to-go-around-and -explode-everything-no-sir-you-are-in-so-much-trou ble-your-ass-is-grass." Which was then followed by "Thank God you're safe," and a hug.

That was the nice thing about Jake. He didn't stay mad for long. Even after Finn told him of his incoming detention, he only grumbled for a minute before admitting that Leningrad was, indeed, a crazy poot-face.

It was lunch, now, and Finn was standing in the cafeteria with a Band-aid on his face and a tray of something in his hands. He didn't know what to do.

He could go sit with some other kids, but they'd probably laugh and call him "Meeeeeerrrrrteeeeens," in the Leningrad voice they had all been using this morning. He could go sit by himself, but that would discourage anyone to talk to him. Decisions, decisions…

Then, there was a sudden pressure on his elbow and he found himself being tugged towards a table and shoved into a seat. Someone sat down across from him.

The girl from BioLab. Grinning and placing her tray down on the table. "Sup. Finn, right?"

Finn blinked stupidly, stunned. "Uh… yeah."

The girl nodded, snatching his red apple off his tray and peeling the sticker off. "I'm Marceline. You gonna eat this?" Without waiting for him to answer, she took a bite from it.

Finn frowned. "Not anymore."

Marceline grinned through a mouthful of apple. "Thought not." After another bite, she continued: "So, you don't have to sit with me if I skeeve you out. I just wanted to say you were pretty cool back in BioLab."

Finn smiled, despite himself. "Oh. Thanks."

Marceline shrugged. "I mean, it was really kind of stupid. You could have just… y'know… distracted the Penguin some other way. Like, you could have thrown a shoe at him. Or pretended to have a heart attack."

Finn's head was whirling. This girl was… a little overwhelming. "A heart attack?"

She nodded, hair bouncing. "Yeah. Like…" And without warning, Marceline toppled off the back of her chair and clutched her chest, arching her back off the ground. "OGAWD!" she wailed, squirming. "MY HEART! I… OH! MY POOR HEART!" The cafeteria turned to stare, and Finn felt his ears begin to burn under his hat as Marceline began to scream about feeling death creep up on her.

"I get it, I get it, IGEDDIT!" he hissed at her, getting out of his seat and pulling her off the ground. "Stop… doing that!"

Marceline giggled, dropping her act immediately. Her face was flushed red, but from exertion, not embarrassment. "Fine, fine. But admit it. That would have been easier than blowing up a classroom."

Finn scowled as the two took their seats again. "I did not blow up a classroom."

She leaned across the table to pat him on the head. "Sure you didn't, you little pyro, you."

Finn swatted at her hand. "Shut up. Where's that guy with the mullet?" Marceline's face grew quiet, and she looked down at her apple.

"Ash?" she asked in an odd voice. "Oh. He, uh… eats with other juniors. I'm a freshman."

Finn felt this was a touchy subject. "What did you call Gunter earlier?"

Marceline's face lit up again. "The Penguin."

"Why?"

Marceline shrugged. "He looks like one. And talks like one. Like," she screwed up her face and squawked. "Wenk!"

Finn snorted. "Wenk?"

Marceline laughed. "Penguins say wenk! All the time!"

"They do not!"

"Do too!"

Finn was laughing in earnest now. "How many penguins have you met?"

"Tons! Hundreds!" Marceline said, trying to keep a straight face. "You don't know my life!" Then, something seemed to catch her eye and she waved someone over. "Marsh!"

A boy trotted up to them, black razor-cut hair flopping in his face. A red plaid flannel was tied around his waist, and the strap of a guitar cut across his black t-shirt. He carried a skateboard. Finn recognized him; he was the one who had knocked him over today. Finn shrunk in his seat slightly as the boy gave him a cool look.

"Marshall Lee, Finn Something. Finn Something, Marshall Lee," Marceline waved casually. "Marshall, do penguins say wenk?"

Marshall Lee was staring straight at Finn, eyebrow raised. "Stop being weird, Marcy," he said casually. Then, to Finn: "You the guy Leningrad cussed out today?"

Finn nodded, blushing slightly. Marshall smirked, an action remarkably similar to Marceline. "Sucks for you. How'd you like my note?"

Finn was stunned. "You wrote that? Why did you pass it to me?"

Marshall shrugged. "Dunno. I liked your hat. S'cool."

Finn wasn't sure he had heard right. "My hat?"

"Yeah. Anyone who wears a hat like that is just as weird as me." Marshall turned to Marceline. "Practice at three today. And penguins don't say wenk." And with that, he left.

Finn watched him go. "He didn't even apologize."

Marceline laughed lightly. "Marshall never apologizes. You'll have to get used to it."

The rest of lunch was spent in silence on Finn's part, as Marceline told him all about her band. Marshall on guitar, she on bass and vocals.

He walked away with a sticker stuck to his binder: The Nightosphere.

"Hey," Jake said as Finn slid into the seat of his station wagon. "How was school?" Finn shrugged. "You make any friends?"

Finn thought about Marshall knocking him over, Marshall getting him in trouble, Marceline sneaking out, Marceline stealing his apple, laughing with Marceline, Marshal calling his hat cool…

Finn grinned and answered as honestly as he could. "I have no idea."