Hopefuls

They were both somewhat misfits, half feared and half admired by the rest of their class in Leadworth Primary School. Amelia because of her incredible hair, fiery temper and vivid imagination. John because of his intelligence, smart mouth and pure charisma. They always had a little gang hanging around them at playtime, joining in with their games, but their only real friends were each other and everybody knew it.

Of course, there were the hopefuls. One was Rory Williams, the kind, goofy boy with an enormous nose and an obvious thing for Amelia. When she and John were huddled together in the reading corner over a fairytale book he would stare longingly over at them, knowing that he had no chance next John at being her special friend. Amelia was charmed by his well-meaning clumsiness. Sometimes she would talk to him when John was busy.

"Hey, Rory, d'you like my picture?" she said over the art table once when they were nine, while John was in the toilet. She was holding up a painting of a magnificent castle with turrets perched on top of a great mountain.

"Th-that's amazing," he stammered, honoured at her attention, "You know what would look really great on that picture?"

"What?"

"A girl in the tower window. A girl with orange hair. A princess."

"Okay, but I'd rather she was an explorer. She could have been captured by an evil witch on one of her adventures. Here, you can help me paint her in."

John returned a few minutes later to find his Amelia bent over her picture, watching Rory paint. On her picture. She never let anyone do that – no one but him.

"Hey, get away from Amelia's painting," he ordered, marching up the table.

"It's okay, John," Amelia reasoned while Rory bit his lip and continued to paint, "He's adding in a ginger explorer."

"Like Amelia," Rory added. He was beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, he had a chance against John after all.

"Get away from the painting," John said coldly, glaring at Rory.

Rory put the brush down, but didn't move. "I don't want to," he said.

"Get away!" John was close to yelling. Mrs Jones, the teacher, glanced up from her desk.

"John, leave him alone," Amelia was getting annoyed, "Let him finish."

John looked up at her, hurt. He was the only one she let touch her pictures – how could she place beak-nosed Rory on the same level as him? Hanging his head, he wandered over to the other side of the classroom. Feeling a little guilty, Amelia sat down next to Rory and nodded for him to go on painting.

"Hi, John," said a high, simpering voice. It was Rose Tyler, the second hopeful. At nine, she already wore blue shadow above her pale brown eyes along with glittery pink lip-gloss. Her mousy brown hair was rarely in the same style for more than one day. She had moved to Leadworth from London last year with her parents, and since then she had been trying relentlessly to make friends with John. John didn't like her much – she was the jealous type, often spiteful to Amelia, and she cried often – but he always tried to be kind.

"Oh, hello, Rose," he sighed, sitting down in the reading corner. Rose sat next to him.

"Is Amelia being mean to you?"

"No, she's not," John said quickly, "It was all my fault – I got angry about her talking to other people."

"Oh, that's okay. From now on she can play with Rory, and you can play with me."

"Oh, um..."

"You can be the time travelling man, as usual, and I can be the girl who travels with you," Rose was smiling sweetly.

"No," John said sharply, sharper than he'd meant, "That's Amelia's part, not yours. And it's Amelia's game. I can't play it with anyone else."

Rose's smile snapped off her face, and her eyes filled with tears. "I thought you were my friend," she whimpered.

John felt a little guilty, but he stood firm. "I'm sorry, Rose, but I'm not your friend. Amelia's my friend."

"I hate that weirdo Amelia!" Rose whined. Anger surged up inside John's chest.

"Then I hate you!" he hissed, not wanting Miss Morgan to hear.

Right at that moment, the bell went for home time. Miss Morgan dismissed the class. Amelia, who had been sitting chatting and painting with Rory but could not take her mind off John, ran straight to get her coat and bag. Leaving Rose to wipe away her own tears, John ran after her. He found Amelia in the cloakroom, buttoning up her blue duffle coat over her green check uniform. She looked a little subdued.

"I made Rose cry," he said simply. Amelia looked up at him in surprise.

"Why? How?"

"She said she hated you because you're my friend and she's not."

"And?"

"I said I hated her."

All of a sudden Amelia grinned and threw her arms around him, hugging him so tightly he could hardly breath. He hugged her back just as hard. Amelia pulled away before he was ready to let her go, but he did.

"Thanks," she said warmly, "Rory's nice but you're my best friend, you know that?"

"Of course I know. You're my best friend, too."

Amelia waited for him as he slipped on his jacket while the other kids fluttered past. She spared no more than a friendly smile for Rory, who came out comforting the distraught Rose. Then Amelia and John took hold of each other's hands and began the walk home together.

Just to point out, I didn't mean this as Rose bashing, I was just portraying the jealous side of her, and don't forget, this was from the point of view of someone who doesn't like her. And I actually prefer Amy/Rory to Amy/Eleven, but this fic just happens to be the latter. Oh and also, I'm going away to France for ten days (getting on a plane for the first time in four years yippee!) so I won't be able to update till I get back. Hopefully somebody out there in this cruel, cold world is enjoying this enough to pick it up then. Please review, it would mean so much!