TW: References to self harm (minimal)
(Also in later chapters)


He stood in the front of the classroom door, terrified to enter.

Jeff had spent the last ten minutes looking for his English class, wondering the halls of Dalton, completely confused as to which direction he should be heading.

By the time he had found the room the lesson had already begun and the door was shut. He didn't want to open it. He didn't want to walk in and have everyone stare at him. He was shaking. He just stood there. Paralysed.

He was about to walk away when the door creaked open. A middle aged, dark haired woman stood leaning on the doorframe, staring Jeff down.

"Are you going to be joining us? Because I believe you will learn a lot more when you're actually inside the classroom."

Jeff stared up at his teacher. She smiled back at him. Clenching his jaw, he forced himself inside. At least twenty pairs of eyes became fixed on him as he entered and it was all he could do but stare back.

"So...Jeffrey" the teacher said, scanning down the list of names on her desk, "you're new to Dalton this year."

Jeff nodded in silence.

"Glad you're joining us. I'm Mrs. Hawthorne. Now take a seat."

He scanned the rows of chairs. There was only one left, at the very back next to a mousy haired boy who sat smiling at him.

Jeff kept his gaze directed at the floor as he moved through the rows of boys. He could feel their gazes piercing him. He was sure someone was about to trip him over.

After what seemed like an eternity he reached the empty chair and sat down.

I'm sorry, he said inwardly. I'm sorry you're stuck sitting next to me and I don't mind if you want to move desks or not talk to me for the whole year. I'm sorry.

The other boy turned to face him.

"I'm Trent" he said cheerfully sticking out his hand.

Jeff took it nervously.

"You moved from McKinley right?"

Yes. I did. Feel free to laugh at me now. What am I even doing at this school?

Jeff tried to push the thoughts aside and just nodded in response, refusing to face the other boy.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. He repeated the words over in his mind as he stared ahead. He was finally disrupted by Mrs. Hawthorne dropping a copy of Hamlet on his desk.

Jeff brushed the pages between his fingers as the lesson began.

As Jeff, and hundreds of other Dalton students sat down to the first lesson of the day, Nick Duval sat barefoot (his shoes were far too squeaky) outside the bedroom of a Mr. David Waltenmire, struggling to open the lock. He had both David and his roommate Wes's lesson schedules memorised. Well, he had in fact stolen both their timetables, assuring himself that memorising their lessons was a far too difficult and pointless task. They were both sitting in Spanish at this very moment.

"Come on", he whispered to himself as turned the pin around in the lock. Finally, with a satisfying click the door opened. Nick snuck in, shutting the door behind him and breathing out.

They must be in here somewhere, he thought to himself. He had been in their room, numerous times before to retrieve various items of his. Half the time the two Prefects didn't notice anything was missing, and the other half they were too sick of Nick's antics and refutes to bother asking him. He opened up various draws, searching for his precious cigarettes when he heard footsteps outside the door. He stood frozen in fear.

"I can't believe Mr. Martinez didn't show up"

"Probably hungover."

"Probably"

Nick heard the two boys laughing outside as they approached the room.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Nick! You Idiot! His brain scattered and he began to panic. You have three options, he thought. One: Get castrated by David for breaking and entering. Two: Jump out the window and die a young hero's death. Or three...

Nick dived toward one of the beds, wriggling behind the piles of boxes and magazines and holding his breath.

He heard the door creak open.

"Wes, I told you not to leave the door unlocked!" He heard David shout angrily.

"Woah, calm down man. I must've forgotten or something."

"Sorry" David sighed.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah"

"You're not still pissed off at Nick are you?"

Nick couldn't help but grin and stick out his tongue from his hiding position.

"It's just...I don't know what to do with him."

"You should tell Mr. Peterson."

"Wes, the last Prefect that dobbed in a student was labelled a traitor by the entire student body."

"All for one and one for all", Wes laughed.

"Yeah", David replied sarcastically, "I'm just worried about Jeff."

"The new kid?"

"Yeah"

"Oh...he's rooming with him isn't he?"

"Yeah. That's the problem."

"Why?" Wes asked confused.

"Did you see him yesterday!? I couldn't get a word out of him. How's he going to deal with Nick in his face every waking hour?"

"Oh..."

"I was sort of curious after meeting him. So I went in to Mr. Peterson's office to check out his files."

"You didn't!"

"I was concerned!"

"Concerned enough to get expelled?"

"It was only for a second!"

"So...what did you see?"

David sighed. "I don't know...like...some really horrible stuff. Like really bad. Death threats and stuff at his old school. There were pages of it. I can't believe some of those things happened to him. Apparently the same kid broke his nose twice in the same month."

"Shit"

"Yeah...and all these counselling records and provisions for the school and all these precautions...no sharp objects to be in his possession...no long periods of isolations etcetera etcetera"

"You don't think he?"

"No...I think...they're just... being careful."

The two boys fell into silence and began to wind down and just mill around the room.

Nick lay under the bed. He tried to process the information he had just heard, but became very distracted by the fact that he needed to sneeze and that he could barely breathe and that there were boxes digging into his back and that he was going to have to stay hiding under here for an undetermined period of time.