Invader Zim isn't mine, so there. Don't sue. Please. Thank you.
Author's Notes: Hello! It's been two weeks, and I apologize for the lack of updates, but, well, I have hi skool and after-skool activities, and IZ episodes to catch, and you get the picture. So, without further ado, to the story...
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At Telson High School, the halls were still and silent. The digital clocks in each wing on each of the three main floors read 7:18, two minutes before the students were allowed to be at their lockers. The occasional teacher stalked to the copy room, or in from the chill air to unlock their classrooms and organize for the first mod. The office on the second floor by the main entrance was lit, but only a few secretaries bustled by the glass windows, and none glanced at the unkempt teen in a rumpled trench coat cautiously pulled open a heavy glass door and walked hesitantly into the lobby. His pale face sported rings under his glasses-framed eyes, and his scythe-like hair was messy. No one noticed as he looked incredulously at the display cases at either end of the lobby, full of photos of landscapes on one side, and paintings on the other. Once in the main hallway, he went along the right wing and eyed the maroon lockers suspiciously. Finally he headed down the stairs and was met by row upon row of yellow lockers, punctuated by classroom doors every now and then. As Dib wandered along the hall, pulling at locks and peeking in the tall, narrow windows of the class doors. As the clock above clicked to 7:21, he stopped halfway down and stood thinking while one by one students trickled in from the first floor entrance on the other side of the building.
One girl glanced at him curiously; she usually could recognize most of the faces on the first floor in the morning, and this kid seemed lost. She shook off a vague feeling of recognition and passed him, sitting in front of her lower locker a short way down from where the odd guy was standing. She emptied the contents of her backpack into her locker all but a red floppy binder, a pencil case, and her agenda book, and then squashed the bookbag itself into the tiny space left. When she got up and picked up her things, she realized that the pale kid with black hair was still there, brow furrowed, arms folded, leaning against the door to her homeroom. She sighed and walked up to him, clearing her throat to get his attention. He shook himself, and started when his brain processed her presence.
Ahem... Are you new here? she began.
What? Uh, no, I, uh, was just... thinking. Yeah, thinking.
Well, where's you're homeroom? The bell's going to ring in ten minutes, and you should get to class. And get your books and stuff.
He rolled his eyes and sighed. Why, he thought, did he have to run into a busybody, of all people? I know that the bell's going to ring. I don't have far to go. This is my homeroom. Now why don't you get to yours?
Well, that's interesting, she snapped, exasperated now. This is my homeroom, too, and you happen to be blocking the entrance. And it's second quarter and I haven't seen you in class all year.
Now he was stuck. I uh, am a transfer student, and I–
What's your name? You look strangely familiar. And let's go inside the classroom because other kids will be arriving soon. Once Mrs. Meeler gets here, maybe we can sort you out.
he said, pulling open the door and stepping inside.
Dib. It's my name. You asked, remember?
Last name or first? Wait, she paused, snickering. Are you Dib Membrane?
Yeah. Yes, how do you know?
Right, and I'm Gaz. Yeah. No really, I'm Sophie Smith, and you watch too much Invader Zim. Really, who are you?
Dib gasped, not seeing the sarcasm all over her face. You know of Zim? What evidence do you have on him? Are you an Eyeball member, too? I have reason to believe that he's done something evil this time, and the fate of the world depends on us!
Whoa, wait a sec, you look like Dib, you talk like Dib, and you say you are Dib. Now, sit down, right there. Do you really think you're Dib Membrane, from the Invader Zim cartoon show on Nick?
What!? When did Zim get a television show? Do they know the TRUTH?
Sophie sighed. Right. Ok, listen, the school nurse is on the second floor next to the office. Tell everything to her.
Wait, will she believe me? Why the skool nurse?
Do I have to escort you?
Panic sunk into Dib's brain, and he grabbed Sophie's arm as she backed toward the door. Wait! I, I, don't you believe me? Zim, he's brainwashed you, he's got another zit, that's it, I–don't do this to me, that alien's done something to my life, sent me to another dimension, something...
She paused, doubt clouding her face. Are you serious? she asked, wanting to believe him, wanted her little dream to have come true. Do you honestly think, are you really... Dib?
Yes! For the millionth time, YES! I know who I am, and I need help to get out of this skool, school, and find a way to stop ZIM in ALL dimensions!
Calm down. According to the show, you're in 5th grade or something. A little kid. Why are you so tall now?
I've grown up, obviously. I'm in 10th grade in hi skool, and are you serious about that SCUM having his own TV show? Of all things?!
Yes, it's a cartoon drawn by Jhonen Vasquez, and your... escapades with Zim. He's green.
Yes, he's green, and this is FAR more serious than I expected. He may be coming soon...
Don't worry about Zim, worry about how you're going to get the teachers to accept you in their classes. Here, borrow a pencil, pen, and paper from me, and let's go sit down.
Dib followed Sophie to two seats on the far side of the empty classroom, and the other students who came in a few at a time thought little of the two hunched over Sophie's binder as she described the workings of Telson High, and her plan.
When Mrs. Meeler walked in and put a drill up on the overhead projector, Sophie raised her hand and introduced Dib as Dib Smith, who was her cousin from another state and would be spending a week at or so at Telson as his family looked at the options of buying a home here. He would be attending all of her classes with her, and would do the homework with the rest of the class.
But does the office know? Did they give you a note? the confused teacher inquired.
Oh, the office said that you'd understand, and if you really wanted, we could run up there after class, Sophie bluffed.
Ah, well, that sounds alright. Now, who wants to answer the first drill question?
Dib hissed. What do you mean go to the office?
We don't really go, genius, we head to the next class!
And so Precalculus commenced. Dib was better at it than Sophie had expected, and seemed almost bored with the lesson.
After class, and the homeroom announcements, the two made their way through the packed halls to Chemistry. Halfway down the hall they were halted by a shout on the other side of a mass of bodies.
Sophie! Who's that with you?
Ivy, it's my cousin, Dib, listen, I'll explain after school!
Ok. Say, you didn't tell me you had a cousin Dib- Ivy's voice was lost as she was borne along the current out of hearing.
Two minutes later, gasping for fresh air, Sophie and Dib burst into the Chemistry room, and the explaining began all over again. Luckily Mr. Tolsen didn't care as long as everyone... well, he didn't care, period. Relieved, Sophie picked a random two seats for herself and her
Their relief was stomped out prematurely with the arrival of a classmate hauled in by the glare of another. One was familiar to both Sophie and Dib, and his appearance shocked the latter to his feet. The venomous words began to spew forth from both tongues.
