Disclaimer: I don't even own the name Amestris, damn it. Nor any of these concepts of 'barbeques' or whatever. I don't own shit. Except for Ted. But you can have him.
Note: This chapter is focused around Al, 'cause he's our newbie…special grade nine friend person. Also: You will love Ted, whether you like it or not.
The Meet the Teacher Barbeque
Alphonse sighed forlornly, rapping his index finger against the table, and then biting his lower lip. It was late in the month of August, and he knew it was fast approaching. Dreadful. The month of September. The beginning of the school year. And as if that wasn't bad enough, he was going to be starting at a new school, at the 'bottom of the food chain', with no idea what he was doing, or where he was going. Yes, in his mind, life sucked for a grade nine.
He glanced around the breakfast table once, looking to Winry reading a magazine, chewing on some bubble gum, twirling a strand of her hair with one finger, sitting on the left side of the table. His brother sat across from him, leaning back in his chair, stuffing another piece of toast in his mouth. Auntie Pinako was in the kitchen, getting herself some coffee. Lucky for them, they had already passed the dreaded grade nine; Ed and Winry by a year and Pinako by…uh…many.
Winry looked up from her magazine as she blew a bubble, staring directly at Al. "What, are you nervous?"
Al quickly shook his head, "Not really. I guess I'm just anxious."
"For the stupid barbeque thing? Why?"
"Well I'm going to be meeting all of my future teachers and a lot of the classmates…what if I make a bad impression, or they don't like me?" Al took a deep breath.
Winry laughed a little to herself, "So in other words, yeah, you're nervous. Don't be. It's just a stupid 'meet the teacher barbeque' thing. They barely talk to you, and they see so many students that they'll forget who's who by September."
"Wait, wait, wait." Ed said, pushing his chair forward so that it was standing upright and straight again, "What barbeque?"
Winry sighed, "The one you go to, to meet your teachers before grade nine starts?"
"Wha?" Ed said, cocking an eyebrow in Winry's direction, "Why didn't we get one last year?"
Winry mimicked his expression, raising her own eyebrow, "We did. You just didn't give enough of a damn to go."
"Oh." Ed suddenly sounded disinterested again, "Right. That barbeque." He leaned back in his chair again, ignoring them both once more.
"Uh…huh…" Winry nodded slowly, humouring Ed.
Al sighed again, prodding his barely touched breakfast gently with a fork.
"So…" Winry began, "What classes do you have, anyway?" She was obviously trying to make conversation, to break the silence. Apparently her magazine had gotten boring.
"Uhhh…" Al searched his mind, listing them off slowly, unsure, "Science…English…Math…Geography…Business….Integrated Technologies…Phys-Ed…and…um…French."
Suddenly Edward burst out laughing, Winry casting a sharp glare in his direction. He just couldn't stop laughing, all of the sudden.
A loud 'thud' set off a snicker of her own from Winry, as Ed's chair fell backwards onto the floor. Ed kept laughing for another moment, before it faded to just the occasional snicker.
"What's with you?" Al asked his brother, puzzled.
Ed calmed himself, taking a deep breath, "French class." He snickered again, "You have French class."
"So?" Al pouted. "I had to. It's the rules."
"You," Ed smirked, "Are going to love French class."
Winry shook her head. "Ignore him, Al. French is fine."
"Yeah." Ed agreed, smiling. "Once your brain turns to mush, and your ear drums are dead, so you can't fight it anymore."
Al sighed, "You had French last year, too…"
Ed held up his mp3 player, smirking, but saying nothing.
Winry and Al exchange a look, dumfounded.
"I really wonder how you manage to pass all your classes with such high grades." Winry remarked, shaking her head.
"I'm pure genius, that's why."
"Sure." Al added, turning to Winry, "What classes do you have?"
Winry smiled, excited, "Well there's Shop class and Communications Technologies of course! Plus Science. And then there's math…" Winry tailed off, but picked up again soon, just in a less excited tone, "Then there's Home Ec, or whatever." He tone dropped a little further, "And I had to take History, English, and Civics, of course."
Ed's list was completely in a droned voice, as if he couldn't care less (he also had to pull out a piece of paper from his bag propped onto the wall to remember them all), "Civics, History, English…PhysEd, Math…Physics, Biology and Chemistry."
Al blinked at the unusual class choices, and Winry sighed, as if distressed by something.
Pinako finally walked in with her coffee, taking a seat, and flipping absently through the paper, "When is his barbeque thing, anyway?"
Al paused, "Uhhh…it starts at about lunch time."
"Do you want a ride?" Pinako asked, obviously deciding that the paper had nothing worth reading in it.
"No, I'll walk. I don't want to have to rely on people when school starts."
"Whatever. I work at the school anyway." Pinako shrugged, putting her old fashioned pipe in her mouth, and letting out a puff.
Al just shrugged, finally eating his breakfast before it got completely cold.
That afternoon was, in fact, the barbeque. Alphonse had gotten his times table, telling him what classes he had, and when they started, ect. After grabbing a hot dog to munch on, Al made his way to what they had said was to be a group meeting. Every student was expected to be there to meet whoever this person was. So Al made his way there nonchalantly, taking a seat and waiting as everyone else came to get seating.
It wasn't long before a man walked onto the stage, an eye patch over one eye, dressed in a dignified manner, walking with poise. Even his black hair was combed back, and his arms were folded behind his back. Standing on the stage he looked to the crowd of grade nine children, a look of spite on his face. "I am Principal King Bradley." He said in a slow, cold tone.
A taller, blonde boy sitting a few seats down from Al rose his hand up in the air, as if asking for permission to speak, but didn't wait for it to be granted, "What kind of name is that?" he asked, disrespect in his tone.
Suddenly a blade soared toward the audience, too quickly for anyone to even think of screaming. It pinged into the ground right next to the blonde boy whom had spoken (still much to close to Al for his comfort) who flinched slightly. The man on the stage began to speak in a cold, scary tone, "The name of a man whose rules you will follow strictly, disciplined, as if they were a guideline to life. Nay, as if they were your life. A man whom you will respect, and yet hold in fear, knowing he controls your very futures, able to alter them within mere moments. A man who shall haunt you, hanging around every corner, for the next four years of your life. A man whom will know every step you make and every breath you take, until you maggots graduate from this bloody school." Suddenly his face broke out into a friendly grin, "But most of all I'm your friend. Remember: You can't spell principal without pal." He glanced around, "Any questions? No? Dismissed."
Al felt chills running up and down his spine, and he, like everyone else, exited quickly. Glancing around he decided it was about time to got get a locker, and so he went quickly into the school to choose one.
By the time he got in, he discovered that there were only a couple of lockers available to Grade Nines left, so he promptly selected one near his home room, and began to fastened the lock to it.
That was when he heard footsteps, of someone coming to the locker next to his. Glancing up, he paled at the sight of the boy whom got the locker next to his. He looked like a stereotyped nerd, geek, thing, and yet, at the same time, something from a teenaged horror movie. Snot dripping from his nose, face covered in acne, glasses masking taped together. Tight clothes, suspenders, with annoying squeaky dress shoes.
"Hello there." When the boy spoke the snot got shot back into his nostril, making a disgusting noise, only to drip out again. Each word was accented by a puffing sound, and occasionally a squealing one. Holding out his hand to Al he introduced himself, "My name is Tedium. But you can call me Ted."
Al looked to the boy's hand, hesitating before taking it, giving his a gentle smile, "Just call me Al..." Al paused, quickly pulling his hand back, unsure of what else to say, "Uh…nice to meet you, Ted."
"Since we're going to have lockers next to each other for, like, nine months, we should get to known each other, and be friends, right?" Ted brought his own oily hand back to his side. Putting his lock on his locker, he didn't seem to notice how Al stared at him. He then nodded, "Well I'll see you in September, buddy!" The look on his face made it obvious that he thought Al was slow because of the way he stared off, and wasn't doing anything. If only he knew the real reason.
Al watched him leave quietly, a look of disgust crossing his face. As soon as he was out of earshot, Al turned back to his locker, slamming his head against it multiple times, wondering how long it would take to get a concussion, "Just shoot me now, already." Banging his head a couple more times against the locker Al decided he should not mention this anywhere near his brother. He could imagine the laugh Ed would have.
Turning Al left the school quickly, deciding that it was time to go home. He'd meet the teachers on the first day of school. He already knew what his classes were, and where they were, and figured that was enough. So he quickly went down the road, his back to the small high school in the small, barely known town of Amestris. A high school that had a small enough amount of students that there tended to be only one or two teachers for each class, meaning that often people had the same teachers for multiple grades. A high school filled with misfits, oddballs, and other things. A high school Al knew he would have to live with for the next four years.