New haircut, new style, new clothes, new life. Isn't that how most people start school each year? Or is that just what they hope? Because honestly, a lot of people don't change much. Not so far as Jack can tell.
He's changed, though.
Losing a parent will do that to you.
Since that night after his mother had died, when he'd stayed up late sewing his suit, he'd taken solace in sewing. By the time school starts, he has six new suits, all in the same color scheme, which allows him to mix and match pieces for almost endless varieties. Some of his clothes are a little more conservative than that first green and purple one, but most are a little insane. Each consists of a vest, jacket, gloves, socks, and shoes as well as the shirt and pants.
He doesn't wear the wilder suits to school. He figures that wouldn't be appreciated. But he creates them, because he finds peace in creating.
The first day of freshman year proves interesting. The staff seem wary; his peers avoid him.
They're probably just awkward.
Nobody knows how to treat a kid whose mother's died.
As he's walking to his first class, some kid runs into him. He give them an annoyed glare and they back away.
"Jesus, man, lighten up."
He ignores the comment and keeps walking. Slips into the class and scans the room. Just his luck: Derek, Chase, that kid whose name might be Brendon, a couple of girls he recognizes because of their constant scathing remarks directed at him – accomplices of Sadie's.
He sits as close to the door as possible.
The teacher walks in a few minutes later as the bell rings. As per the norm, the first thing she has them do is introduce themselves.
When it's Jack's turn, he stands up and mutters, "I'm Jack Napier," and sits down.
"Come on," the teacher urges. "Tell us something about yourself, Jack."
"Yeah, Jack," sniggers one of the girls. "Tell us."
"No," he replies flatly.
"Cheer up. It's only day one; you can't be this upset already."
He breathes in and lets it out slowly. "I'm not going to bother getting to know anyone in this class, so why should they get to know me?"
A mutter of surprise rises from the kids who know him.
"Usually he's such an attention whore…"
"Wonder if he's snapped?"
"Think he'll finally stop shooting people with that pathetic little q-tip bow?"
"I bet it's 'cuz his mum died…"
The teacher breaks into their murmuring. "Hush. Let's move on. Amelia?"
A pretty girl stands up. "Amelia Nightlock. I'd prefer not to go on about myself, either."
"I'm not asking you to go on about yourself…"
"Oh dear, did I start a revolution?" Jack murmurs.
"Seriously, I don't know what's wrong with this class!" the teacher says. "You all need to lighten up a bit! It's school, not the end of the world."
"Could've fooled me," Amelia says, sitting down.
Jack half-smiles. This Amelia might be worth getting to know. The issue, of course, would be approaching her – he's not exactly skilled with talking to womenfolk. They could be a different species for all he knows.
The school year putts on slowly. Around midterm, a joke catches on: tell Jack Napier to cheer up. Tell Jack to smile. Tell Jack to lighten up. Oh, that's a funny one, isn't it? Jack, the one who used to be the class clown, and now everybody else is trying to get him to laugh.
He tells himself it'll go away, but it doesn't.
And it doesn't.
Just when he think it might have gone away, it comes back.
"Cheer up, Jack."
"Stop being so gloomy, Jack."
"Jack, you should smile more often."
"Lighten up, Jack."
"The world isn't that horrible, Jack."
"Come on, Jack, smile for once."
"Smile, Jack."
Smile.
Smile.
Smile
Jack
why
won't
you
just
smile?
