Just a few notes:

I'll be discontinuing HtbH. Sorry to fans of that, but I'm just not feeling Gravity Falls anymore. Once again, sorry.

Starting in a few days, I'm going to bring over my work from here to Wattpad, so I'll be taking some time to do that. First, job: get this chapter up over there.

Last thing, to all the Voltron fans, I'll be starting a Voltron fic straight after I finish this BMC fic. Be on the lookout! :)

And with that, lets jump right in.

Please enjoy and review.

"Thanks," I muttered to Ms. Clark as I walked into her classroom. Michael was the first person I spotted, my eyes instinctively landing on him. He had snagged a seat near the back and had an empty one next to him.

He brightened when he saw me coming over. "Jeremy! Computer Science is amazing! We got to customize our computers to however we liked, and I managed to find the best profile picture!"

I smiled as I sat down. "Did it happen to be Bob Marley, by any chance?"

"Of course it was Bob Marley!" We laughed. Michael's eyes widened. "Oh, and when I was on the way to Algebra, you will never believe what I found."

I waited. "What did you find?"

Michael winked. "Like I said, you'll never believe it. I have to show you at the free period."

"Michael." I punched his arm and he recoiled, chuckling. "No fair."

"All's fair in surprising your best friend." Michael leaned back, arms over his head as he stretched. "Besides, it's only—" he made a show of checking an imaginary watch. "Three and a half hours away."

I groaned playfully. "Ugh, but that'll take forever. I wanna know now."

"Tough luck, Heere." We were cut off by the door closing with a loud click.

Ms. Clark was a young teacher, looking fresh out of college, with dark curly hair pulled back into a bun and a freckle just above her left eye. She wore a New York Giants sweatshirt over casual jeans and grey sneakers. She looked like a fun and somewhat lenient teacher. I might actually pass this class.

"Welcome to World History!" Ms. Clark said, sitting down at her desk. "This'll be my first semester teaching here, so bear with me as I get into the swing of things.

"Now, just a quick question. Who here has teachers who have a) started teaching, b) given out a pop quiz or c)—" She gave a dramatic shudder. "Assigned homework." Several people chuckled as almost every hand went up, including mine and Michael's. Ms. Clark clapped her hands and stood up, grabbing slips of paper. "That settles it, then. Since so many of my colleagues seem to be sticks in the mud, we're going to play an ice breaker game instead of starting our first unit."

I grinned. Definitely passing this class.

Ms. Clark handed out a small piece of paper to everyone. "I want you to quickly write your name. Nothing fancy, just make sure it's legible."

I looked at Michael and he shrugged, bending to dig in his backpack. I pulled a pencil from a small pocket in the side of my bag and scrawled my name in the middle of the paper.

Ms. Clark had moved to the back of the classroom and we all craned our necks to look at her. "So, I want this half of the class—" she gestured to the first three columns on my right. "To take their papers and move back here next to the door." Chairs scraped the floor as people got up and shuffled to the back. Ms. Clark pushed her way past them and strode to the whiteboard. "The other half will come to the front, facing the back."

Rich happened to be in our group, and from glancing around the room, he seemed to be the only other person in this class I knew besides Michael.

Rich gave us a small nod. "Heere. Mell. What's up?"

"Not a lot," I replied. "Do you know what's going on?"

"Nope, but I'm interested." Rich idly swung his arms. "Almost anything that involves teams is fun. Competition, y'know?"

"True."

Once we were all in place, Ms. Clark moved to the middle of the classroom, off to the side. "Everyone ball up your papers." I glanced at Michael. He shrugged, smushing his paper into a tight ball. I did the same, the classroom filled with the sound of crumpling paper.

Ms. Clark smiled. "Good. So, you're probably wondering where I'm going with this, right?" Several people murmured agreements. "Well, we're going to have a quick snowball fight."

"Told you this would be fun," Rich whispered to Michael and me.

"The group by the door is Team One, the group in front of the whiteboard is Team Two. You are allowed to move about the classroom once I say go. If you get hit, go stand by my desk, you're out.

"If one team is completely taken out, the remainder of the other team will go into Sudden Death. No hiding, just open fire on each other. Do not aim for the face, aim for below the neck. If you hit the face, intentional or not, you're disqualified. Got it?"

We all nodded, grinning. Michael looked at me and I shifted, hefting my paper snowball. "Ready to take some people out?"

Michael smirked. "Bet I can get more hits than you."

"You're on."

"Three!" Ms. Clark counted, hand in the air. "Two! One! Fight!"

Immediately, I launched my snowball into the midst of Team One and took cover behind a desk. A couple snowballs flew over my head and I watched them as they bounced against the wall and landed harmlessly next to me. Gathering them, I held them in the crook of my arm and peeked through the legs of the desk.

Most people had the same idea I did, ducking out of sight. A few brave souls lobbed ammo over their cover, risking hand and arm exposure. Red Glasses Girl and Ginger Boy were taken out first, forced to sit down.

My eyes flicked to the snowballs in my arm. I had four. There were three more further away; if I could grab them, I would have enough snowballs to last me awhile. Taking another swift glance, I crawled quickly across the cold, tile floor and paused behind another desk. Check, move, hide. Check, move, hide. After one last round, I had to stop at the last column of desks. My targets were in front of a bookshelf, lying innocently just out of reach.

Heart pumping, I looked around. A good chunk of both teams were taken out, although Team One had two more people than we did—Ponytail Girl and Freckles Girl. I caught sight of Michael on the opposite end of the classroom. He had one snowball in each hand, crouched in a space between a wall and a filing cabinet. I smirked at him when he looked in my direction, showing off my arsenal. Michael stuck his tongue out as retaliation, tossing a snowball over the top of the cabinet.

I returned my attention to the extra ammo. If I was careful, I could swipe all three snowballs at once, and no one would be the wiser.

Cautiously, I crept like a cat, stretching my arm out. Just a little closer…

Got 'em! I nabbed the snowballs and nearly fell over myself to get behind the bookshelf. Peering out, I saw that it was down to me, Michael and Ponytail Girl from the other team. She was crouched in the center of the room, using the desks around her as cover. I could see her eyes dart back and forth from Michael and me. Everyone was watching with bated breath, waiting to see who would move first.

Suddenly, Michael sprang out from his hiding place and threw a snowball. It hit Ponytail Girl right in the back, and she jumped. "Ah, shit," I heard her mutter as she stood up and left for the back.

And then it was just Michael and me.

"Sudden Death!" Ms. Clark called.

I moved slowly from my little nook, keeping my vision trained on Michael. I smirked when I noticed he only had one snowball. This is too easy.

We circled the room, eyes darting from each other's face and hands, searching for a tiny twitch, any sign of immediate fire.

Fuck it. I flung my stash one by one at Michael in rapid succession. Somehow, he dodged them all, scrambling on the floor to pick them up. I whirled around, trying to spot some more ammo, but…there was none.

My heart beat rapidly. I was defenseless. How do 18 snowballs just up and disappear?! Horrified, my head whipped back toward Michael, who had the biggest shit-eating grin I had ever seen. He stuck his hands into his hoodie pockets and my stomach fell. No.

Snowballs pelted my sides and hands as I tried futilely to ward off the attack. Despite my massive defeat, however, I was laughing. Trust Michael to pull a stunt like that.

"And that's it, folks!" Ms. Clark said, smiling. "Congratulations to…" She took a moment to consult a piece of paper on her desk. "Michael Mell?" Michael nodded, arms up victoriously. "Congratulations. Everybody grab a paper and head back to your seat."

The class crowded around me as I bent to pick up one of the many paper balls lying at my feet. Michael leaned down in front of me, smirking. "So how many people did you hit?"

I opened my mouth to retort but stopped. I hadn't managed to hit Michael in seven tries, and I never saw if that single shot in the beginning had actually landed. "Zero," I said disappointedly, standing up.

Michael followed me back to our seats. "Really? Well, I hit that one girl and you several times, so I guess I win." He plopped down in his chair, grinning smugly.

I sighed good-naturedly. "So, what do you want? A slushie? A new game? Another tattoo idea?"

Michael winked infuriatingly at me. "I'll think about it."

"Michaaaaeeeeelll." I groaned. "First that thing you saw, now this? C'mon, man. Not cool."

He shrugged and turned his attention to Ms. Clark. Reluctantly, I did the same.

"While that was fun, the real reason for the snowball fight was just to mix up the papers. Effective, no?" Ms. Clark smiled. Scattered chuckles answered her. "I did mention that this was an ice breaker game, so here's how we play. In a second, Michael will tell us his name, his favorite subject and one cool fact about himself. Then he will open his paper and tell us whose name is on it. Play will continue to that person, and the next, and on and on. Everyone get it?" We nodded. Ms. Clark turned to Michael. "Take it away, Mr. Mell."

Michael stood up, hands jammed in his hoodie pockets. "So, uh, I'm Michael Mell. My favorite subject is Computer Science. And, ah, one cool fact…." Michael trailed off, staring into space. "One cool fact…" He glanced at Ms. Clark questioningly. "Does it have to be a fact about us, or can it just be an opinion?"

Ms. Clark shrugged. "If you don't think it's going to start World War Classroom, go for it."

Michael beamed. "Bob Marley rules." We laughed. Michael grabbed his snowball and carefully pulled it apart. "Kaitlyn Wiles?"

Ponytail Girl jumped up. "That's me!" She turned to Michael. "Nice shot, by the way."

Michael bowed cockily as he sat back down. Kaitlyn giggled. "Well, I'm Kaitlyn Wiles, I love creative writing, and my cool fact is that I have read the entire Harry Potter series at least eight times over." The class hummed interestedly. She unfolded her paper and looked around. "Rich Goranski?"

Rich raised a hand lazily as he stood. "Present."

I leaned over to Michael as Rich introduced himself. "Dude, you are obsessed with Marley."

Michael shrugged nonchalantly. "What can I say, the man's a legend."

I snorted quietly as Rich finished up. "...and I've been the same height for almost two years now, doubt that's going to change." He opened his paper. "Angie Lancurt?"

And so it continued. Everyone took their turn, and I'll admit that I zoned out a bit in the middle. I was daydreaming about whatever the hell Michael wanted to show me when I heard my name. "Jeremy Heere?"

It took me a moment to process that I had been called up. Red Glasses Girl was staring at me, as was everyone in the class. "Oh. Oh! Right, sorry."

I stood up hastily, nearly bumping my knee on the desk. Michael snickered and I shot him a look. "Right, so, um, I'm Jeremy Heere. I like art, especially sketching, and, well…" My mind short-circuited. "Um, Apocalypse of the Damned is my favorite video game?"

Ms. Clark nodded appreciatively. "Nice. I play video games too, and it's nice to see someone who's not focused on whatever's hot at the moment."

Relieved, I smiled as the bell rang. "Tomorrow we officially start class! Have a great rest of the day!" Ms. Clark yelled over the noise of people flowing toward the door. Michael and I grabbed our stuff and headed out as well.

"Not a bad class," Michael said, bumping me in the shoulder. "I like her style."

"Yeah."

Michael eyed me, smirking. "You're trying to think about my surprise at free period, aren't you?"

I smiled sheepishly. "Maayybee."

"I'll be generous and say that you won't even last until lunch."

"Michael!" I placed my palm on my chest and took a staggered step back. "Bro! I am offended by your lack of confidence."

Michael snorted, grinning. "Whatever." He turned left, giving a little mock salute. "See you at lunch."

"I will last!" I shouted after him. People turned to look at me, but I didn't care. "You hear me, Mell? I will make it to the end of the day!" Michael waved to me without turning back.

I went right, shaking my head determinedly. I can make it. I will make it.

"I can't take it anymooooorrreee!" I groaned loudly, slumping onto the cafeteria bench. "I give in, I can't take it!"

Michael barely looked up, taking another bite of sushi. "Called it."

"Michaaaaeeeellll."

"Yes, Jeremy?" I sat up, putting on my best puppy-dog pout.

"Can you show me the surprise now?"

Swallowing the last of his sushi, Michael glanced around conspiratorially. "Follow me," he said, gathering his trash and dumping it in the nearest garbage can.

Excitedly, I got up and moved toward the cafeteria door. Michael stopped me, watching a teacher pass, then slipped out the door, I just behind him.

Once out of the cafeteria, Michael took off running down the hall. "Hey!" I exclaimed.

Michael twisted around, jogging backwards. "Catch me if you can!" He spun forward and took off again. Grinning, I sped after him.

We zoomed through the halls, laughing sporadically. Michael would always slow down at a turn, glancing behind to see if I was keeping up. I answered with a smile that would grow bigger with each passing moment.

After about a minute, Michael slowed and stopped in front of a bulletin board with multiple help wanted flyers and a poster about the Spring Formal. "Ta-da!"

I put my hands on my knees, catching my breath between giggles. "Michael, as much as I need money, I don't think I want a job at Piggly-Wiggly."

"Not that! This!"

I glanced up at where he was pointing.

APOCALYPSE OF THE DAMNED

TOURNAMENT SIGN-UP

"Well? What d'ya think?" Michael's eyes were shining behind his glasses, bright with excitement and hope. I smiled at the sight.

"Oh, hell yes."