So sorry for the really looooooooong delay, but writers block is a b*tch. I am currently working on two other chapters that should be up soon, but after that I can't make any promises about when, or if inspiration will strike again. I'm kind of veering off topic of my previous chapters with this one, but I hope you guys will like it all the same. (If there is anyone still interested)
BTW Who else loved the season 7 premiere? If the writing stays that good for the rest of the season, we are in for something special :)
Junior High...
The hallways of Junior High School are no place for an undersized, scrawny kid with a sweater vest and a pocket-protector.
Unfortunately for James Wilson, that's exactly what he was.
Needless to say, he was a bully magnet during all of his years in Grammar School, and so far things weren't much different for him in Junior High.
While walking down the hallway on a Monday afternoon, Wilson's books were knocked unceremoniously out of his hands and scattered all over the hallway floor. Wilson turned to his attackers and was greeted with the usual laughter from the boys responsible. Phillip Webber and his gang of idiots had targeted Wilson since the first day of school. His life has been a living hell since then.
"Hey Jimbo, I have a bit of a problem." Phillip said with fake sincerity.
The rest of the boys surrounded Wilson, preventing any escape.
"My mom forgot to pack me lunch again. You think you could help me out?"
Wilson knew what would happen to him if he refused. Not wanting to be humiliated in public again, he quickly handed over his delicious lunch to Phillip.
"Thanks Jimbo." Phillip grabbed the plastic bag out of Wilson's hand. "Same time tomorrow!" He called back as he and his friends took off down the stairwell, their laughter echoing down the now quiet hallway.
"I can't wait." Wilson muttered sarcastically to himself as he crouched down to pick up his belongings.
'Junior High sucks.' Wilson concluded. Only a month in and he already had more enemies then friends.
Once everything was back in order, Wilson made his way down to the cafeteria where he would once again be skipping lunch.
Angry and alone, he found a new table in the corner of the lunchroom (hopefully making it harder for Phillip to find him) and made himself as small as possible. He began reading one of his text books to pass the time while all of the other "normal" kids used their lunch hour to congregate with friends.
It didn't take long for Wilson to be found. Lucky for him it wasn't by Phillip.
"If you're trying to disappear, you need to lose that sweater vest." A smug voice called over to Wilson. "Makes you stick out like a sore-thumb."
Wilson looked up at the voice to find it belonged to an odd looking boy with the brightest blue eyes he had ever seen. The boy was tall, probably taller then Phillip, with a long face and hair that stuck out in all different directions. Wilson's gaze eventually returned to his piercing blue eyes. He had a very intense stare that made Wilson squirm a little. It was like he could read his thoughts.
"I like it." Wilson said defensively about his choice of clothes.
The boy held up his hands as if to surrender. "To each his own." He said, and sat down across from Wilson.
Wilson closed the text book he had been reading, and started to get up. There was no doubt in his mind that this guy was going to kick him off of his table like Phillip did on the first day of school.
"Whoa! Where are you going?" The boy asked him.
"This is your table right?" Wilson asked.
"It's not like I own it or anything." He shrugged. "Sit where you want."
Wilson nodded and sat back down in his chair. "Thanks." He mumbled, and continued reading from his text book.
Not a minute later, Wilson was interrupted again.
"Not having lunch today?"
"I'm not hungry." Wilson lied.
"You weren't hungry for the whole month of September?" The boy asked with a raised eyebrow.
Wilson was surprised and embarrassed that someone had noticed. Once again he found himself getting defensive. "I don't see you eating." Wilson pointed out, avoiding the question.
"Big breakfast." The boy answered quickly, and they both fell silent for a moment.
Wilson could no longer concentrate on reading. His current thoughts were being occupied by the nightmarish memories of his Junior High experience so far.
"How many times are you going to read that page?" The boy nodded toward the text book.
"How many more questions are you going to ask?" Wilson responded, annoyed by the constant interruptions.
The boy shrugged.
"Is there anything else you want to know before I start reading again?" Wilson asked him, slowly but surely losing his patients.
The boy met his gaze and nodded. "Yeah. I want to know why you let Webber use you as his personal vending machine?"
Wilson was at a loss for words. He wasn't expecting this kind of bluntness from a stranger.
"Wha- Have you been spying on me all month?" Wilson asked, once again avoiding the question.
"Don't flatter yourself. I spy on everyone."
"Oh, that makes me feel a lot better." Wilson said sarcastically, resting his head in his hands.
"You still didn't answer my question. Why do you take their crap?" The boy asked seriously.
"What am I suppose to do? There are four of them, and none of them need a step stool to reach the top shelf...unlike me."
The boy scoffed. "So you're just going to spend your entire high school life catering to those losers? How are you going to grow without the proper nutrition?"
Wilson almost smiled at the joke.
"You don't know them, they can be very persuasive." Wilson warned.
"See, you play right into their hands. Those jerks only bother you because they know you won't fight back." The boy said knowingly.
"What would you do?" Wilson asked.
"Fight back, obviously."
"They'd kill me!"
"I admit it wouldn't be pretty, but once they know they're going to have to work for their food they'll move on to an easier target."
"You really think that will work?" Wilson asked skeptically.
"I know it'll work." The boy said confidently.
Wilson thought of all the terrible things that were likely to happen to him if he tried to defend himself. This guy was obviously insane, but he sounded like he was speaking from experience.
"Have you tried it before?" Wilson asked timidly.
The boy didn't answer right away. He took his time debating on how to answer the question.
It was that moment when Wilson realized they both had more in common then he first thought. There wasn't anyone else who sat at this table with him. No group of idiot friends like Phillip had. This guy wasn't like them. He was an outcast, like Wilson. And just as alone.
"Lets just say, bullies aren't restricted to grade school." The boy said, his piercing gaze once again on Wilson.
Wilson stared back, contemplating what he had heard.
"What's your name?" Wilson asked, intrigued.
"House." The boy answered. "Greg House. And yours is James Wilson."
"...What else do you-" Wilson began to ask, but House cut in vigorously.
"You've been bullied your whole life, or at least since the day your classmates figured out you were short for your age. All of your previous friends have been girls who felt sorry for you and always thought of you in that 'awe he's so adorable' little brother kind-of-a-way. You've got a father who is at work more then he's at home, and a mother who is one hell of a cook. Your choice of clothes tell me you're not interested in what your fellow classmates think of you. Your choice of literature tells me you do care about what your teachers think of you. You're ambitious, but not cut-throat. Smart, but modest, and..." House grinned, "...you're way too nice for your own good."
Wilson sat with his mouth open at the flawless description of himself. "How did you...How do you know all that?" Wilson asked, shocked.
House just grinned wider. "I sit. I watch. I fill in the blanks."
When Wilson continued to stare at him in shock and fear, House decided to elaborate.
"You were smart enough not to fight with those morons, which tells me you've gotten your face kicked in before and don't want it to happen again."
"But you said I should-" Wilson began, but House continued.
"Everyday your dad drops you off before work, but never picks you up. That means he drops you off just so he could spend more time with you and your brothers in an attempt to be less of a deadbeat dad. I figure your mom has to be a good cook because you always pack a lunch instead of buying one like a normal person. Last week Webber was munching on cheese bread, and homemade matzo ball soup...which by the way tells me you're Jewish. The rest was pretty obvious to figure out."
Wilson had never been more freaked out in his life. This guy was a complete stranger, and yet he seemed to know his life story.
"Oh, and I know your name because we're in the same homeroom." House said as an afterthought.
"Right." Wilson nodded, feeling embarrassed for not being able to remember even an obvious detail like that. "I didn't realize..." Wilson didn't know what to feel. Amused? Offended? Angry? He settled somewhere between amazed and annoyed.
"So that's what you do all day? You sit here alone and guess at everyone's life story?" Wilson asked bewildered.
"Pretty much. Though I have to say, it gets really boring really fast when you know you'll never find out if you're right." House said dejectedly.
"You could get to know them, like a normal person." Wilson suggested.
"I'm not exactly a people person." House said, looking around the cafeteria at his fellow peers.
"Yet you're still talking to me?"
"That's because you're too nice to tell me where to go." House pointed out. "Anyone else would have called me a jerk and ran away by now."
"Then you are a people person." Wilson rationalized. "It's everyone else that isn't a House person."
House grinned. "Well, I'm definitely not a normal person."
Wilson shrugged. "Normal's overrated anyway." He said with a wave of his hand.
House nodded and laughed, but before he could reply, the bell rang signaling the end of lunch.
Wilson began packing his things, and House got slowly up from his seat.
"I'll see you tomorrow in homeroom, I guess." Wilson told him.
House nodded. "And back here. We can enjoy not eating lunch together."
Wilson smiled and nodded back.
They went their separate ways, alone once again, but Wilson was happy to have found, if nothing else, someone to not eat lunch with. Maybe his luck was finally starting to change...
TBC...