"What?"
"You know," Sherlock said. "Crimes. Murder. Robbery. All that fun stuff."
That's it! He's crazy!
"Um, I gotta go," I said hurriedly and picked up my lunch tray. Sherlock put his hand on mine, again.
"No, Watson, it's not like that." His voice was incredibly soothing. "I just like to read about mysteries, that's all. You know, detective novels. You seemed like the kind of person who would like them, too."
"Oh." Great comeback, Sara. Just great.
"Do you ever read any Agatha Christie?"
"No. No, I haven't…"
"I would highly recommend her," Sherlock said, standing and swinging his backpack over his shoulder. "Bell."
He was right. At that exact moment the bell rang. "Let me guess," Sherlock said, watching me dig through my bag for my schedule. "Mrs. Fernadez's history class."
I made a face. "Yep."
"This way."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"Shootshootshootshootshoot!" I dashed out of the school library, trying to keep hold on everything. My backpack was sliding down my shoulders. My flute case threatened to drop from sweaty fingers. My hand wasn't big enough to hold all three Agatha Christie novels, and my glasses dangled threateningly along the edge of my nose.
And I was just in time to be too late.
I groaned as the bus pulled around the corner. Now what was I going to do? I supposed I better call home and have my mother come pick me up. Then I realized with a panic - I didn't know my own phone number! Mentally kicking myself for not bothering to memorize it, I didn't notice Sherlock walk up beside me until he said -
"It's not a long walk."
I jumped. "Oh, you again."
He grinned and helped me shoulder my pack. I pushed my glasses back into their proper place and sighed. "Thanks. Which way? You know, I'm getting tired of following you around all the time."
Sherlock laughed. "Don't you think I get tired of being followed? It's like having a puppy."
"One that bites," I muttered as we started to walk.
"You were awfully quick with that logic puzzle in Literature," Sherlock commented.
I scuffled my feet along the pavement. "Wasn't it obvious?"
"Yes, it was, but not many people think so."
We walked in silence for a few minutes. "Which house do you live in?" Sherlock said at last.
I thought for a moment. "Seventh one down the block. It's red."
Sherlock nodded. "I live on the third house. It's blue. Have you started to learn the names of the streets yet?"
"No," I moaned. "I'm still trying to learn the names of everything else. A flashlight is a torch. The trunk of a car is a boot. The bathroom is the water closet…." I trailed off, muttering about tea.
He had to laugh. "Spoken like true American. So young, yet so self-centered."
"I resent that." I stopped at the curb and looked both ways. We waited until the cars had passed. "So," I asked, "Got any brothers or sisters?"
"An older brother Myron and a younger sister Colleen. How about you?"
I shook my head. "I'm an only child." I sighed, then grinned. "Oh, now I recognize where we are!"
"Yes, you can see your house from here. Well, this is my flat. Until tomorrow, Watson." Sherlock took a key from his pocket and let himself into his house.
"Yeah, bye." I turned on my heels and continued to my house. But I couldn't shake the fact that I had a funny feeling about that boy…
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"Good morning, Watson." Holmes said without turning around.
"I doubt it," I brushed some water out of my eyes. "Scooch over."
Holmes obediently held the umbrella out a little farther. I slid up next to him. "Don't you have your own umbrellas?" he asked.
"Are you kidding? My whole house is boxes, boxes, boxes. I can't find toothpaste, let alone an umbrella."
Holmes laughed. "And of course, this is the day the bus is late. It always is on rainy days."
"Great." I took off my glasses and tried to wipe them dry. I only succeeded in smudging the water around. I sighed.
We stood in silence until the bus came. Holmes let me go first, then folded the umbrella behind me. The pretty girl at the back of the bus glared at me. If looks could kill…
I sat down quickly. Holmes walked up the aisle and paused at my seat.
"Sherlock!" The pretty girl batted her eyes and waved. Holmes looked at me but I stared defiantly out the window. He walked to sit with the other girl.
Of course, I thought as I wrung out my hair. He's handsome, she's pretty, and me? I glanced at my near transparent reflection in the window. I sighed.
English Private School - Day Two. In science, I spilled hydrogen peroxide all down the front of my shirt. Holmes handed me a towel. In math, I got every single one of the homework problems wrong. Holmes laughed at my indignant mutterings. In history, I fell asleep. Guess who woke me up? In English, I was so transfixed by Mr. Donnelley that I missed my chair and crashed to the floor. And at lunch, I slipped on a wet patch of floor and tossed my lunch everywhere. Holmes picked me up and pulled a piece of lettuce out of my hair.
"Having fun?" he asked, flicking another leaf away.
"Tons," I said. For a moment, Holmes was so close, his hand in my hair. I felt the breath catch in my throat. Then he tossed the lettuce away, grinned, and the moment had passed. We sat down together.
"Listen," he said, "You're doing the math all wrong."
"Oh, really? Yeah, I kinda figured that out on my own…"
"You don't pay enough attention to the order of operations, and you've been using the wrong formula for slope."
"Right." I nodded, like I knew what he was talking about.
Sherlock shrugged. "I could help you, you know."
"A tutor? No, thanks." I rolled my eyes.
"Fine. Fail math." He got up to leave.
"No no no wait! I changed my mind. I'd lo… I'd really appreciate it if you'd help me out."
Holmes smiled. "Do you want to come to my house after school?"
I winced. "Uh-oh."
"What's wrong?"
"My parents," I said, "live in the stone age. They wouldn't let me go to your house! A, I barely know you and they don't know you at all, and B, you're a … a boy."
"Brilliant deduction, Watson."
"Oh be quiet. To my parents, it makes a world of difference. But you know what? They'd probably let you come to my house."
"Okay then," he said, "I'll come."
We walked to our next class together.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I managed not to miss the bus. Sherlock and I walked out of school next to each other, only to be interrupted by the pretty girl from before.
"Hello, Sherlock," she said, with a smile.
"Hello, Mari," Sherlock grinned. "Please, allow me to introduce my new neighbor, Sara Watson."
"Charmed," the girl shook my hand just a little too hard.
"Watson, this is Marianne Cuttinghall, captain of the fencing team."
"Hi," I said, and attempted a smile. She nodded, curtly.
"Won't you sit with me on the bus today, Sherlock?" Marianne purred.
"Well, actually, I had pla - "
"That's all right, Holmes," I said, desperate to make peace. "I'll see you later."
He nodded and they boarded the bus ahead of me. "Since when do you need HER permission…" I heard Marianne whisper.
I growled under my breath and found a seat up front. Not good, I thought to myself. It's definitely not a good idea to make an enemy out of the captain of the fencing team… a fiend with a foil…. I chuckled at my joke.
The bus pulled up to my corner and Holmes and I got off.
"So, do you fence?" I asked him.
"I do indeed." He dropped his violin and pointed the umbrella at me. "En guard!" he said.
"I must warn you, kemosabe," I said, dropping my stuff and assuming a karate pose. "I have been trained in the fine art of kicking butt."
Sherlock laughed and lunged at me with the umbrella. I knocked it away and chopped towards his throat. He hit my arm to the side and lodged the umbrella under my chin.
"Touche!" he cried, with a touch of smugness.
"Not for long!" I grabbed the umbrella with both hands and twisted. It came loose into my grasp. I flipped it around and jabbed it at his belly.
"Toooo-shay, to you, too!" I said.
"Okay, okay," Holmes said, with his hands in the air. "It's a tie. Let's get you home before you're parents realize you've been flirting."
I gaped. "I am not flirting!" I said, indignant. I threw the umbrella at his face. He caught it as I picked up my stuff.
"Yes, you are." Holmes laughed and followed me to my house.
"Am not."
"Are too."
"Am not."
"Are t - "
"Enough! All I want is a little help with my math."
"Fine," Holmes submitted as I opened the door.
I picked my way around the boxes. "Moooooo---ooom! I'm home! I want you to meet a friend from school!"
Holmes shut the door behind me and turned to meet my mother. She clambered down the stairs.
"Mom, this is Sherlock Holmes," I said.
"Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Watson," Holmes extended his hand.
"Please, call me Esmerelda," she said as she pumped his hand up and down. Rather violently, actually.
Holmes blinked. "Um, okay… Esmerelda."
I interrupted. "Mom, Sherlock said he'd help me with my math homework. Is that okay?"
"Yes, deerie," Mom said, "That's fine. I'll be upstairs unpacking."
"Come, on, Holmes." I pulled on his arm and dragged him to the kitchen.
"Esmerelda?" he asked, appalled. "Esmerelda …Watson?"
I sighed and rolled my eyes. "I know, I know. Listen, you want a soda or something?"
"You know," Sherlock said. "Crimes. Murder. Robbery. All that fun stuff."
That's it! He's crazy!
"Um, I gotta go," I said hurriedly and picked up my lunch tray. Sherlock put his hand on mine, again.
"No, Watson, it's not like that." His voice was incredibly soothing. "I just like to read about mysteries, that's all. You know, detective novels. You seemed like the kind of person who would like them, too."
"Oh." Great comeback, Sara. Just great.
"Do you ever read any Agatha Christie?"
"No. No, I haven't…"
"I would highly recommend her," Sherlock said, standing and swinging his backpack over his shoulder. "Bell."
He was right. At that exact moment the bell rang. "Let me guess," Sherlock said, watching me dig through my bag for my schedule. "Mrs. Fernadez's history class."
I made a face. "Yep."
"This way."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"Shootshootshootshootshoot!" I dashed out of the school library, trying to keep hold on everything. My backpack was sliding down my shoulders. My flute case threatened to drop from sweaty fingers. My hand wasn't big enough to hold all three Agatha Christie novels, and my glasses dangled threateningly along the edge of my nose.
And I was just in time to be too late.
I groaned as the bus pulled around the corner. Now what was I going to do? I supposed I better call home and have my mother come pick me up. Then I realized with a panic - I didn't know my own phone number! Mentally kicking myself for not bothering to memorize it, I didn't notice Sherlock walk up beside me until he said -
"It's not a long walk."
I jumped. "Oh, you again."
He grinned and helped me shoulder my pack. I pushed my glasses back into their proper place and sighed. "Thanks. Which way? You know, I'm getting tired of following you around all the time."
Sherlock laughed. "Don't you think I get tired of being followed? It's like having a puppy."
"One that bites," I muttered as we started to walk.
"You were awfully quick with that logic puzzle in Literature," Sherlock commented.
I scuffled my feet along the pavement. "Wasn't it obvious?"
"Yes, it was, but not many people think so."
We walked in silence for a few minutes. "Which house do you live in?" Sherlock said at last.
I thought for a moment. "Seventh one down the block. It's red."
Sherlock nodded. "I live on the third house. It's blue. Have you started to learn the names of the streets yet?"
"No," I moaned. "I'm still trying to learn the names of everything else. A flashlight is a torch. The trunk of a car is a boot. The bathroom is the water closet…." I trailed off, muttering about tea.
He had to laugh. "Spoken like true American. So young, yet so self-centered."
"I resent that." I stopped at the curb and looked both ways. We waited until the cars had passed. "So," I asked, "Got any brothers or sisters?"
"An older brother Myron and a younger sister Colleen. How about you?"
I shook my head. "I'm an only child." I sighed, then grinned. "Oh, now I recognize where we are!"
"Yes, you can see your house from here. Well, this is my flat. Until tomorrow, Watson." Sherlock took a key from his pocket and let himself into his house.
"Yeah, bye." I turned on my heels and continued to my house. But I couldn't shake the fact that I had a funny feeling about that boy…
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"Good morning, Watson." Holmes said without turning around.
"I doubt it," I brushed some water out of my eyes. "Scooch over."
Holmes obediently held the umbrella out a little farther. I slid up next to him. "Don't you have your own umbrellas?" he asked.
"Are you kidding? My whole house is boxes, boxes, boxes. I can't find toothpaste, let alone an umbrella."
Holmes laughed. "And of course, this is the day the bus is late. It always is on rainy days."
"Great." I took off my glasses and tried to wipe them dry. I only succeeded in smudging the water around. I sighed.
We stood in silence until the bus came. Holmes let me go first, then folded the umbrella behind me. The pretty girl at the back of the bus glared at me. If looks could kill…
I sat down quickly. Holmes walked up the aisle and paused at my seat.
"Sherlock!" The pretty girl batted her eyes and waved. Holmes looked at me but I stared defiantly out the window. He walked to sit with the other girl.
Of course, I thought as I wrung out my hair. He's handsome, she's pretty, and me? I glanced at my near transparent reflection in the window. I sighed.
English Private School - Day Two. In science, I spilled hydrogen peroxide all down the front of my shirt. Holmes handed me a towel. In math, I got every single one of the homework problems wrong. Holmes laughed at my indignant mutterings. In history, I fell asleep. Guess who woke me up? In English, I was so transfixed by Mr. Donnelley that I missed my chair and crashed to the floor. And at lunch, I slipped on a wet patch of floor and tossed my lunch everywhere. Holmes picked me up and pulled a piece of lettuce out of my hair.
"Having fun?" he asked, flicking another leaf away.
"Tons," I said. For a moment, Holmes was so close, his hand in my hair. I felt the breath catch in my throat. Then he tossed the lettuce away, grinned, and the moment had passed. We sat down together.
"Listen," he said, "You're doing the math all wrong."
"Oh, really? Yeah, I kinda figured that out on my own…"
"You don't pay enough attention to the order of operations, and you've been using the wrong formula for slope."
"Right." I nodded, like I knew what he was talking about.
Sherlock shrugged. "I could help you, you know."
"A tutor? No, thanks." I rolled my eyes.
"Fine. Fail math." He got up to leave.
"No no no wait! I changed my mind. I'd lo… I'd really appreciate it if you'd help me out."
Holmes smiled. "Do you want to come to my house after school?"
I winced. "Uh-oh."
"What's wrong?"
"My parents," I said, "live in the stone age. They wouldn't let me go to your house! A, I barely know you and they don't know you at all, and B, you're a … a boy."
"Brilliant deduction, Watson."
"Oh be quiet. To my parents, it makes a world of difference. But you know what? They'd probably let you come to my house."
"Okay then," he said, "I'll come."
We walked to our next class together.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I managed not to miss the bus. Sherlock and I walked out of school next to each other, only to be interrupted by the pretty girl from before.
"Hello, Sherlock," she said, with a smile.
"Hello, Mari," Sherlock grinned. "Please, allow me to introduce my new neighbor, Sara Watson."
"Charmed," the girl shook my hand just a little too hard.
"Watson, this is Marianne Cuttinghall, captain of the fencing team."
"Hi," I said, and attempted a smile. She nodded, curtly.
"Won't you sit with me on the bus today, Sherlock?" Marianne purred.
"Well, actually, I had pla - "
"That's all right, Holmes," I said, desperate to make peace. "I'll see you later."
He nodded and they boarded the bus ahead of me. "Since when do you need HER permission…" I heard Marianne whisper.
I growled under my breath and found a seat up front. Not good, I thought to myself. It's definitely not a good idea to make an enemy out of the captain of the fencing team… a fiend with a foil…. I chuckled at my joke.
The bus pulled up to my corner and Holmes and I got off.
"So, do you fence?" I asked him.
"I do indeed." He dropped his violin and pointed the umbrella at me. "En guard!" he said.
"I must warn you, kemosabe," I said, dropping my stuff and assuming a karate pose. "I have been trained in the fine art of kicking butt."
Sherlock laughed and lunged at me with the umbrella. I knocked it away and chopped towards his throat. He hit my arm to the side and lodged the umbrella under my chin.
"Touche!" he cried, with a touch of smugness.
"Not for long!" I grabbed the umbrella with both hands and twisted. It came loose into my grasp. I flipped it around and jabbed it at his belly.
"Toooo-shay, to you, too!" I said.
"Okay, okay," Holmes said, with his hands in the air. "It's a tie. Let's get you home before you're parents realize you've been flirting."
I gaped. "I am not flirting!" I said, indignant. I threw the umbrella at his face. He caught it as I picked up my stuff.
"Yes, you are." Holmes laughed and followed me to my house.
"Am not."
"Are too."
"Am not."
"Are t - "
"Enough! All I want is a little help with my math."
"Fine," Holmes submitted as I opened the door.
I picked my way around the boxes. "Moooooo---ooom! I'm home! I want you to meet a friend from school!"
Holmes shut the door behind me and turned to meet my mother. She clambered down the stairs.
"Mom, this is Sherlock Holmes," I said.
"Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Watson," Holmes extended his hand.
"Please, call me Esmerelda," she said as she pumped his hand up and down. Rather violently, actually.
Holmes blinked. "Um, okay… Esmerelda."
I interrupted. "Mom, Sherlock said he'd help me with my math homework. Is that okay?"
"Yes, deerie," Mom said, "That's fine. I'll be upstairs unpacking."
"Come, on, Holmes." I pulled on his arm and dragged him to the kitchen.
"Esmerelda?" he asked, appalled. "Esmerelda …Watson?"
I sighed and rolled my eyes. "I know, I know. Listen, you want a soda or something?"
