Stereotype Me
(my try two)

Notes: I am simply going to ignore the fact that I now have three stories going. Here goes another shot at this. No own of anything.

One – They're Popping Up Like Diseases

Gaara shifted uncomfortably, the many stares weighing him down like an extra shirt probably would. The room was extremely too tense for him, but he pushed away anxiety as the teacher began to tally off names, mentally tagging new faces, and noting the old. Gaara himself was a new face; this school was yet another to be put under the growing list. His parents like to move around a lot, though quickly he added that none of it was his mother's fault; she just wanted to get use to one place, but up his father went to a whole new town.

A boy next to him slid a note over. Gaara hesitantly picked it up, his pale hand slipping under a maroon sleeve when he set the note down open in his lap. In bold, spidery writing, it read: wat's ur name, nu kid?

At least the failing boy beside him knew where to place comas in sentences. Taking pride in perfect grammar, Gaara looked over the bad use of spelling and wrote an answer swiftly back, just as his name was called from the attendance sheet. He was a new face, after all.

"Gaara? Gaara Sabaku?"

He nodded and weakly raised his hand. The teacher nodded in return and bent back over the sheet of names, completely ignoring the fact that many students had grown quite restless, and had begun to pass notes back and forth, such as he was doing now. Absently, he scanned the boy beside him choice of clothing; having gotten a lecture this morning from his sister about the very strict was some kids dealt with out-of-place peers. The boy, whom he only now realized he had been calling by such a name, liked the color blue. He wore blue jeans with several rips in the knee, a sky blue shirt, a long-sleeved blue shirt beneath that, and a navy blue hat twisted backward.

Another thing, which Gaara made a point to stare at, was The Boy's nails. They were neon blue. Yes, Gaara stared. That is, until said nails disappeared into the pockets of the ripped jeans.

Plus, The Boy's eyes were a very pretty blue; Gaara couldn't help but notice when they blinked over at him, the note now on his desk again. He unfolded it. gaara? awsome.

And you? he answered, not being able to help the fact that he found this kid very interesting. At his last school they had uniforms; Gaara'd always lose his, too, having to end up begging his older sister for a new pair of pants, or a new school t-shirt. The note was thrown at him this time, and fluttered to the ground. Gaara leant to get it; it wasn't too far off, just over by his left shoe, but was halted when an unknown appendage that definitely wasn't his own grasped the note and straightened back up, eyes reading the contents of the ruled paper.

And, in the blink of a black-lined eye, the new mysterious person stuck it in their mouth, and swallowed. The Boy beside him was about to throw himself this time, anger radiating off him in waves. "Bastard! I was trying to have a civilized conversation!"

The paper-eating boy just smirked. This was the last grade of middle school anyway; the eighth graders had the power, especially if they were older than everyone else, which this Paper-Eater seemed to be. He was tall, even sitting, with—well, Gaara couldn't think of anything else to call it—a black overshadow around him.

Really. The list went on, colors and all. Black hair, black eyeliner, black eyes, black shirt, black undershirt, black jeans, black shoes, black socks (Gaara bet, even if he couldn't see them completely), black bracelets, even, black nails (and again, it was going to take him a while for him to get use to the nails…), black earring, black necklace, black rings, black soul, probably.

Gaara arched an eyebrow as The Boy attempted to hit the Paper-Eater, but only ended up drawing the teacher's eyes away from the attendance, and earning a sharp order to control himself.

All in all, Gaara really liked his new school.

During lunch, The Blue Boy (for Gaara still hadn't figured out his name; it was probably being digested at the moment) sat with him, jabbering away subject, after subject, before pulling out an mp3 player. It shut him up, to say the least. Gaara glanced over his shoulder to see what song he was listening to. The little screen showed The Birthday Massacre, with the words 'Lovers End' just below. A little strange for this bubbly character, he thought to himself.

He plucked an earphone from the boy's ear and inserted it into his own, wanting to hear what exactly this boy called music. The Birthday Massacre, in all its wonderfully diverse moments filled his ear, and Gaara felt a smirk tug at his lips. It sounded like something that other kid back in first hour would listen to.

When the song reached its end, with lovers or without, the boy changed it, not really minding that Gaara was listening in, to a completely different song, which just completely clashed with The Birthday Massacre-ness. It was Death Cab for Cutie's, 'Marching Bands of Manhattan.'

Odd. That was all he could really register.

Someone took the seat in front of the two sharing music, and gave them a look before biting into their pizza. Gaara looked up into pale eyes, and realized he was looking at a full-fledged transvestite, just probably without the cross-dressing part. Gaara blinked and put down the earpiece, giving his full attention to the new arrival. Dark brown hair hung over broad shoulders and an almost porcelain face glared back at him.

Gaara stuck his hand forth, hoping to get on good terms with at least a few people. When the boy/girl didn't take the offered peace treaty, he withdrew it and went back to staring. After another long minute, the Blue Boy put away his music and grinned brightly over at the Transvestite. Funny, Gaara had met now three people, yet in his mind they had ridiculous nicknames already, at the lack of a real one.

"Wazzup!" Blue Boy shouted over at his friend, blonde hair askew under that perfectly matching navy hat. At the same moment, one of the teachers within the area walked over and ripped it off his head.

"Naruto, you know hats are against dress code. You should know better," the woman chastised, and Gaara noticed her as the same woman who pointed out that his sleeves were too long. It's the dress code policewoman, he believed.

So now Blue Boy had officially been replaced with the proper name Naruto. Maybe Gaara'd eventually tell him about the nickname he had been given for a total of three hours. Gaara closed his eyes and breathed deeply; a headache from the new surroundings was starting to take over. Naruto didn't notice the change in his mood, but Transvestite did, though remained perfectly passive and watchful. Naruto grinned again at Dress Code Policewoman, before she turned and walked off, having returned the hat which, once her business suit back was turned, he shoved back onto his head, and twisted to face the opposite direction again.

"As I was saying," the blue-eyed boy said slowly, spinning in his seat to face Transvestite, before reaching over and grabbing a long tendril of hair, and yanking. "Weren't ya gonna cut this? Liar! Oh, what, cat got your tongue? I'm the cat-lover here, Neji," he added innocently, bending to dig around in his backpack immediately afterward. Gaara watched him curiously search, while the Trans—Neji sighed knowingly.

Since the three had the last lunch, Gaara concluded in his head, they had to carry all their junk—excuse me, backpacks—to lunch and all the way to their next class. Therefore, they had everything under their seats. Naruto returned from the depths of his backpack with what looked like a Sharpie marker, grinning the same idiotic grin he liked to give people when they got around him. Then, he turned first to the girl on his right, then to the girl on Gaara's left, asking all the while if they had a makeup mirror. Both looked at him like the plague had grasped yet another victim, before the second girl on Gaara's left sighed much like Neji had, and handed a compact pink one over. Naruto thanked her animatedly.

Then he proceeded to force Neji to hold the mirror in front of him, uncapped the permanent marker, and draw…lines on his face. When the job was finished, he capped the Sharpie, pocketed it, and grinned, of course. Realization dawned on Gaara when the blonde turned to him; the lines were meant to be whiskers. He guessed the boy wasn't lying about being a cat-lover. Naruto returned the mirror, then slyly ripped the crust off Neji's pizza slice and nibbled at it, the whiskers definitely making him resemble a blonde cat. Could cats even be considered blondes or brunettes? Neji, in return, scowled a very unhappy scowl, and was about to say something (as Gaara now noticed he hadn't said a word), when a voice interrupted. "Screw up your bloodstream, why don't you." The Paper-Eater with the black soul took a seat beside Neji's still glaring self.

"Pfft, like you don't," the blonde retorted, indicating the lyrics decorating pretty skin hidden under about twenty black bracelets. Gaara, intrigued, reached over and flipped the boy's arm over on the table, squinting to read the barely legible writing. It took him a moment to realize that the words were upside down.

"Yo, Gaara, this bastard's name is Sasuke, and just so you know, he looks like he's about to kill…" Naruto voice announced.

Well, Gaara was at least happy to have a name to now call Paper-Eater. Though a little unnerved on how all the attention from the three other's had been suddenly turned to him. Gaara, on the spur-of-the-moment type of thing, tried to twist Sasuke's arm around and read the lyrics. The fourteen-year-old hissed, annoyed. The words wrapped around his arm like a spiral weaving its way downward, reaching practically to his elbow. It hadn't been there that morning; when had he done it? Sometime between first hour and lunch? More than likely.

See the animal in his cage that you built
Are you sure what side you're on?
Better not look him too closely in the eye
Are you sure what side of the glass you are on?
See the safety of the life you have built
Everything where it belongs
Feel the hollowness inside of your heart
And it's all
Right where it belongs

A strange sense of recognition fluttered in the back of his mind uncertainly, but he looked up as though to question his thoughts.

"Nine Inch Nails."

Ah. Now he knew; Trent was actually a pretty good musician, and most definitely unique.

"Yup," Naruto continued for Sasuke, "It's like his favorite band; the only thing he ever listens to. Me, on the other hand… I have a more 'open mind'."

Yeah, Naruto, I know, Gaara thought to himself humorously. Neji rose from his seat and hoisted his backpack onto his shoulder.

"I'm glad we could all become acquainted, but unfortunately the teachers are staring at us because, unfortunately, lunch ended three minutes ago." Gaara flushed with embarrassment and stood up a little too quickly, grabbing his bag and heading to the nearest door, even if it was in truth the farthest away from his next class.

Sasuke 'tsked' and closed his eyes, taking his time in gathering all his stuff together before leaving through a different door. Naruto glared over at Neji, but instead broke out into the quickly growing infamous grin.

"Great. You scared 'im."

"Shit!"

The curse pierced a very quiet atmosphere, causing a few to jump practically out of their skin, while others just groaned and shoved iPod earpieces into their ears farther, turning up random songs higher, even if they couldn't break the max volume anymore anyway. Gaara feared that if the headphones were continuously shoved in deeper, they might just never resurface. A sort of disturbing thought there.

The last class of the day had ended with bordering a million yawns from students. The teacher was probably deaf to them by now; the last class always was the slowest.

"Excuse me, but God called. He wants His Satan stunt-double back."

It wasn't unnatural, Gaara had come to note, for comments such as this to be passed around the room, to friends even. The redhead had once witnessed an exchange between two girls that confused him. One walked by the other, heading to their seat, when she hissed 'Ugly bitch' and the other returned an 'I'm seeing double, then'.But after another second they were back to laughing, chatting, and passing notes. Maybe Gaara'd give God a call back and ask him why life was messing with him.

This school was, simply, as crazy as what he guessed a clown school would be like, minus huge shoes and bee-bitten noses. It unnerved him to no end. Bus, get here already! The intercom, at that precise moment, screeched to life and began listing several numbers; one being what Gaara had been waiting to hear. Thankfully, it had only been fifteen minutes after dismissal, so he didn't think it was too late. If this were how late it usually was, for Gaara didn't know the school system too well, then he'd have to write the principle a letter, now wouldn't he?

On the bus Gaara took a seat in the moderate middle, not really worried that someone was going to come and kick him farther up or farther back (sometimes the popular kids liked the front; he had no idea why). He pulled out a CD player, iPods, or even an mp3 player being on his wish list, and scanned through the mix CD, searching for a particular song.

Woke up this morning without a face
I've fooled myself again
I've sold myself again
Another wasted day counting shades of gray—

Before the song could continue any closer to the extremely catchy chorus, someone plopped into the seat beside Gaara and began to blabber.

"Hi! New face, new face! What's your name? I'm Sakura. Sakura Haruno, for that matter. Did you know that my mom named me after my great aunt? Did you know that Sakura Haruno the first was something along the lines of the Queen of Sheba? You have cool eyes. Ohmigosh! What are you listening to! Can I listen? Please? I promise it'll only be a minute. Pleeease—"

Pick my teeth out of the mud
and sink the sun, what have you done?
Cut the bandages;
Remove the oxygen
Hey man what's with that stupid grin?

"—Ya know? He's so adorable! Eee! I could just—…Anyways, I'm in eighth grade. I think you are too, but you're uber short, you know that? That's okay! So is my mom! She's like…Italian short. Whoa! I love your hair! It took me forever to bribe my mom to let me dye my hair neon pink. Like it? I do!"

I cut and bleed myself along
A man alone can do no wrong
Another wasted day counting shades of gray
Another fool's attempt to fall from grace

"You look really, really confused!"

Cut off all loose ties, and bleed for days
Who could stand veins with friends like these?
Old man loneliness is a son of a bitch
Both hands bound, can't scratch the itch
Cut off all loose ties, and bleed for days
Who could stand veins with friends like these?

"—and so I—"

Gaara, completely confused as the very talkative girl had pointed out before the chorus rang through his ears, pulled his headphones down around his neck and gave her a bewildered look. "What?"

"Oh! Hi!"

He groaned and leaned back against the seat. This was going to be a long ride.

At home, he swiftly glanced around, smiled at an empty house cheerfully, and half-threw, half-set his backpack on the couch, before leaping towards his room. Homework could wait; e-mail was way more important. Maybe he had gotten some comments on that recent post. Gaara had an xanga, was there a problem with that? His sister and brother had them. Hell, he wouldn't have been surprised if his mom did. She was cool like that.

As he logged on onto Yahoo, the phone rang to life, and he bent backwards in his computer chair to grasp it, before holding it to his ear. "Hello, Sabaku residence, Gaara speaking, how may I help you?"

His mother had taught him to be polite.

A cheerful, motherly voice answered, which he raised an eyebrow at, obviously to no one since no one was there to see it. His mother began to rant about her first day at work at the Hospital she had been signing up for, and then asked just as sweetly how her son's day had been. Like every normal teenager—

"Fine."

And so on. Eventually she let him go, and he breezed by a total of twenty-two new e-mails, and then rose to get a piece of bread into his stomach. Sure he hadn't had lunch, but Gaara wasn't the hungry type of person. He wasn't anorexic; he just never craved food when denied it for a long period of time. It was like his stomach had been shut off from food of any kind.

Leaning against the counter in the kitchen by a spotless refrigerator reflected on a spotless linoleum floor, Gaara looked up as the front door was opened, and his high school brother and sister stepped through. Kankuro didn't look over at him while he stripped his jacket off, and dove at the couch, moaning and whining about horrible teachers and mountains of laughing essays while pushing Gaara's backpack to the clean white carpet. Temari walked over to her younger brother and chastely kissed him on the forehead, saying a little hi.

Home was so peaceful without Dad here, Gaara realized.

As his blonde older sister got to work cooking macaroni and cheese, and Kankuro pretended he didn't have homework, Gaara sat at the table and began to list important stuff that had happened throughout the day. Temari had always made it a rule that he spill every event that had happened to him at school, good and bad; past experiences were the cause of this.

"So what are your new friend's names?"

Gaara had to stop himself from saying Paper-Eater, Blue Boy, or Transvestite. That would have been a funny site, at the least; Temari looking completely shocked that someone's mother would name their child something so strange. That or Gaara just had a wild imagination, which was probably the case.

"Uh… Naruto, Neji, and Sasuke."

"Any last names?" she said with a hidden smirk.

"Why? So you can call their families? Hell no."

Temari turned around with a fake-hurt look. "Such accusations."

"Whatever. Anyway, I don't know their last names…I don't think… Yeah. I'm drawin' a blank. Oh, there was also a chick named Sakura, but I seriously hope she gets plastic surgery and looses the ability to move her jaw," the redhead finished wistfully.

"Now that's not a very nice thing."

Kankuro rolled over and muttered something along the lines of, 'Just shoot me, God. Please. You created life, you can end it…goddammit…'

End One – They're Popping Up Like Diseases

End Notes: I got the title idea from the fact that new people really do pop up like diseases… The Birthday Massacre 'Lovers End', Death Cab for Cutie 'Marching Bands of Manhattan', Nine Inch Nails 'Right Where it Belongs', Finch 'A Man Alone'. I own nothing, still. Can't gain it overnight.

Revision Notes: YES. I finally got it done! Cheer! All inspiration is dedicated to Panic! At the Music, for some reason, 'cause their music gave me an urge to write this. Can't explain why… So, do tell me if this is an improvement of Life in the Labels, or not, please.

Warning: Updating may be slow. Two other stories going.