Students pushed past each other roughly, hurrying by like a crowd of ants to sugar water. A gaggle of sophomore girls were in the business of locating their assigned lockers. A teen boy wearing some baggy basketball shorts tossed a football across the hall to a junior in a letterman jacket. Friends shouted to each other over a packed walkway. The empty halls of Berk's local High School were filled to the brim with new teens as it opened up once again for the new school year, the muggy August air and the crowding making the minimal space between lockers seem to shift, a lot like Jack would imagine a mirage would.

Many new students, mostly freshmen, were tittering about, slipping under the arms of upperclassmen, and around cross hall monitors with the nervous energy of swarming mice. One Jackson Overland, a newly transferred senior, did his very best to blend in with the younger students. He stuck like glue to the left-hand side of the E hall, desperately trying to keep up with the flow of traffic, and to keep from tripping over his own two feet. He was hunched protectively over his books, and nervously glanced from a piece of paper in his hand (which had a very messily written down copy of his schedule. He couldn't help it, he was nervous) to whichever doors he could get his eye on through the cliques of people around him.

E12. E13… E15? E… Jack popped his head up farther, hoping to get a glimpse of the next classroom. It was for his first period Chemistry. He'd managed to make his way over to the Science section of his new highschool with little trouble, which had surprised him as he wasn't that great a navigator on any normal day. He took it as a sign that there were only good things to come. Unfortunately, Berk high's student population was huge, and its buildings were small and overpopulated. He got lost. This was probably his fifth time passing through this way, and his ears were burning with embarrassment. Intellectually, he knew that no one would have noticed, but that little niggling 'what-if' still lingered in his brain.

Lost in his own head, Jack managed to step on some passerby's shoelace by accident. He felt the lace through his shoe and he jerked sideways, in an effort to catch who that was and maybe apologize, and ended up stumbling. He pushed out with his left arm in an effort to keep himself from eating tile, and to brace himself against a row of lockers, which loosened his grip on his books, causing them to spill over him and onto the floor.

"Oh, uh- Sorry!" By the time Jack managed to cough that out, the passerby, a short blonde with a thick braid, had already finished giving him a nasty look and had disappeared back into the mobs of students. He signed and bent down to try and gather his belongings. His bag, thoroughly filled with textbooks, shifted forward on his back and threatened to tip him over. His face went completely red.

Dressed in a pair of unattractive aviator eyeglasses and some clunky dork sweater, with a generally anxious demeanor, Jack was the picture-perfect caricature of a nerd. He knew it, everyone who'd ever seen him had known it, and it made him feel that much more self-conscious on the floor of the hall. One hand went to push his glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose as he cradled what he could with his other arm. He has a bit of trouble gathering his things from under the feet of other students. He was pretty sure that to his left, What was supposed to be his english notebook was getting completely trampled by some nike-clad asshole.

His saving grace came in the form of a hand, which startled Jack, reaching down to the floor to help pick up what was left of his belongings. I didn't know hands could have freckles.

One finger wore a dark metal ring made up of celtic knots. Jack's eyes traced that finger up a leather-clad arm to another boy, a bit taller than he was, with quite a few piercings, a head full of shaggy brown hair, and a friendly half-smile. He looked to be the same age as Jack. The guy would have been a bit intimidating, if he wasn't kind of cute.

"Hi… You alright? You look new, need help finding anything?" Mystery guy asked, crouching before Jack. His voice was nasally and Jack had to strain to hear him through the morning bustle. Is it really obvious that I'm new? Geez.

Between them, for perhaps a bit too long, it was silent. The other boy looked at him expectantly. Jack was stiff, half crouched, half standing. He thought he probably looked an awful lot like a deer in headlights, and he was thoroughly aware of how stupid he probably looked. Damn it all, Jack, SPEAK.

"Y-yeah. Do you know where room E17 is?" The guy paused, and seemed to take a moment to think. His eyes caught something on the wall, and his lips pursed. Jack followed his eyes. There, just by his own head, was a small metal plaque. With the label… E17. Wow. Embarrassing.

"Well, I just might," The boy grinned, "My name's Hiccup. What's yours?" He stood all the way up and offered his hand to Jack, who followed his example and took the handshake.

"Hiccup? I can't say I've ever heard a name like that before. I'm Jack." No stutter. Hell yeah. He looked up at Hiccup and rubbed his neck a bit with his free hand. When they made eye contact, the other boy went stiff. His mouth opened and closed, like he wasn't sure what to say.

When Jack blushed, he knew his face got seriously blotchy. He also had an acne problem. And when he smiled, he had these blocky-looking braces he got teased for pretty bad the few months before he left his last school for the summer. Jack assumed that that was why. Regardless, it was Hiccup's turn to look stupid.

"Right. Well, anyways, I'm in a bit of a hurry. I gotta go?" Hiccup pulled up one of his wrists. He made a show of looking at it. He also wasn't wearing a watch.

Jack always got to school early, so timing wasn't a problem for him. He knew classes didn't start for another five minutes. Hiccup couldn't be worried about that, could he? Maybe he was on the wrong side of campus. Or he'd been in a hurry for someone else and Jack hadn't noticed because he was too deep in his own head. He felt a bit bad over it.

"Yes. Have a good day. Period. Can I have my books back now?" Jack moved towards the door closest to him, hopefully the one that belonged to E17, and managed to grab the handle after a bit of fumbling. He held out his arm, and Hiccup dropped his things back into Jack's arms. He leaned back and almost dropped everything again.

Jack rushed himself through the door. This better be the right class.

–

When he was younger, around ages 5-10, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III had the horrible habit of talking over a mile a minute. His father and Gobber could attest to that. But really, it wasn't a huge deal. All fine and dandy. But the thing about talking fast is that you have to be able to think even faster. Or you've got to be an overthinker. Hiccup was both of these things.

Today, that was not his problem.

He'd gotten to his classes early that day. First day of school and all that, he'd gotten all his things settled in the art room, a class he'd signed up for on a whim. He was hoping it'd help him get better at sketching out blueprints. But he'd gotten bored pretty quick, so he'd ended up walking around and running into one of his friends, Fishlegs, by the language classrooms.

Fishlegs wasn't as abrasive or as intimidating as any of the others in their friend group, but he was big in all senses of the word, and a total pushover. He came in handy when they got into fights. And when it came to homework. A lot when it came to homework.

They'd figured that they would try and meet up with a few more of their friends. Which, if he was trying to make a good impression on any of his teachers, was probably not the best idea. Most of his friends were pretty punk. People called him a punk, too, but personally, he thought he was more of an emo. Haha. His friends got into a lot of trouble, which he usually got dragged into. It made him a bit of a troublemaker by proxy, and always had him either skipping class or being late for it.

Unfortunately for the twins, but by happy chance for Astrid, Snotlout had decided to skip. Something about losers and having a hot hookup later that afternoon (Hiccup knew that Tuffnut had actually been trying to get one over on Snotlout. He wondered if that had anything to do with it; his cousin was an easy catfish. Not that he'd know anything about that).

Hiccup and Fishlegs had decided it would probably be smartest to come up with some sort of game plan while they were walking together. And by game plan, they meant texting Astrid.

Hiccup: I have a few extra minutes before class. I know you and the twins are in the same first period. Already got Fishlegs. Want to meet up?

Hiccup didn't have much of a hard time navigating the halls at school, which meant he had the easiest time trying to look for Astrid. He was able to slip by people as they made space, and didn't have a lot of trouble with knocking into anyone. This was in part because he was pretty familiar with everyone, mostly because of his dad. He had connections. Fishlegs, however, did have a bit of a rough time. Navigation didn't do anything about his size, and he had some of the worst luck imaginable, which meant he ended up both trying to wade against the flow of traffic, and traveling backwards.

Astrid: Come to the science block. E rooms.

Hiccup: I can't find you.

Just as Hiccup thought he saw her, Bucket, a seriously tall kid he knew vaguely from Phys Ed, walked in front of him and completely covered his line of sight. Not about to admit defeat just yet, he made his way to where he saw her last. There, kneeling on the floor, by the side of the hall, was some poor kid. It looked like he'd dropped a bunch of his books. Honestly, that's why they had lockers, but who was Hiccup to judge? So, of course, he tries to help the guy out.

He didn't know the guy. He could have been new, or Hiccup could have just overlooked him before. He helped him find his class (Kind of. Not really.) Everything was going fine until,

"Hiccup? I can't say I've ever heard a name like that before. I'm Jack." Jesus Christ. Holy fuck. The guy looked up and Hiccup blanked.

He looked around Hiccup's age, kind of average, and like a huge nerd. He had a bit of acne and a pretty hideous pair of braces. His glasses looked like something straight out of the 1970s. (Cute.) Looked like the kind of guy to play Dungeons and Dragons all winter break (Hiccup loved Dungeons and Dragons), or to spend his lunches in the library (Hiccup used to do that). That sweater? Was ugly as anything Hiccup had ever seen. Jack could have told him that it was stolen off someone's dead grandpa and that wouldn't surprise him at all. He was adorable. And exactly Hiccup's type. He didn't even know that guys were his type (Kind of.) He didn't think they were? But this kid was.

Hiccup's face had to be on fire. He totally panicked. He hoped it wasn't noticeable. He said something about losing time and bolted. Why the hell did Jack have braces, anyways? His teeth were already perfect. For sure nowhere near as screwed as Hiccup's. His eyes were the warmest brown he'd ever seen.

As Hiccup thought made his quick (and very clumsy) getaway, he couldn't help but think, 'I need to get my hands on that guy's fucking number.'