Near the middle of the year, every day of school tended to be the same as the last. Any student knew that. The middle of school was always when things seemed most pointless.
However, Alfred found he had a more difficult time waiting for each new class to begin. He was excited to see if he shared any periods with the Canadian boy from earlier, and he did not know why.
Alfred was popular enough, he always had friends to keep his company. Girls liked him, even though he already did have a girlfriend… Who he actually was not very fond of. Truth be told, he had never been romantically interested in anybody. But Greta was hot enough, and Alfred's friends had been bugging him about finding a date.
However, girls could hardly have mattered less to Alfred. All of school -the academic subjects, the many different people- it all led to hockey. That was the only thing Alfred truly looked forward to. That was his life. Although Alfred did play on teams outside of school, playing with and leading his friends was always most important to him.
So why was he looking forward towards seeing that Canadian almost as much? It simply did not make sense. Alfred knew his priorities. First there was hockey, as always. Hockey outranked everything. Then there was school, then Peter and Arthur... So it confused Alfred that he was almost looking more forward to seeing Matthew.
When it was lunchtime, and Alfred still had not crossed paths with the quiet boy, he had begun worrying that they would have no classes together at all, which would truly suck. With every passing moment, Alfred lost sight of more behind a swarm of high school bodies. It wasn't unusual for Alfred to be at the center of everything.
One of the plus sides of being popular -and there were quite a few- was that Alfred never had to struggle if he wanted to sit with friends in the cafeteria. He could chose any empty table and in five minutes, it would be full. However, Alfred could also save any seat, and taking it would be almost like social suicide. The seats Alfred Jones saved, nobody ever dared to take.
A packed lunch from home sitting on the table before him, Alfred lifted his legs to the seat on his left, crossing them comfortably as he waited for a certain blond-haired, violet-eyed, Canadian student.
Like a flock of hungry, somewhat insane, american eagles, Alfred's friends and colleagues flooded his lunch table, chatting as they stuffed sandwiches and other foods into their mouths.
Today, at the risk of flavor, Alfred had decided to eat healthily. His three hamburgers were all made with cheese -cheese was a vegetable, right?- and ketchup -a delicious fruit-. He had skipped out on his regular sesame buns in favor of some type of whole grain bread Peter had bought, to avoid Arthur's scones.
He bit into one, letting the hamburger juice dribble down his chin as he listened to his friends and waited for Matthew to join them.
After ten minutes and two hamburgers, Alfred decided that Matthew was taking far too long. 'If he won't come to me, I've just gotta go to him,' He decided, nodding in determination, and wrapping up his last hamburger.
"See ya, guys!" He waved a hand in farewell and stood up, searching through the multiple heads of the multiple students at the multiple tables for one single Matthew Williams.
It took a minute longer than it should have to find the boy. Matthew was sitting with one other person in the very back of the lunch room. The loud, arrogant voice, white hair, and blood red eyes could belong to really only one person in the entire world. Gilbert Beilschmidt.
And Gilbert was nothing like Matthew at all, from what Alfred had seen. He wondered what those two were doing together. Why the hell was Gilbert talking to Matthew? Not that Alfred was jealous or anything- Nope! Alfred never got jealous because of little Canadian boys!- but he really wanted Gilbert to leave. Matthew was probably annoyed by his endless chatter anyways.
"Hey, dudes!" Uninvited, but not particularly caring, Alfred plopped himself down next to Matthew at the table, a silly grin on his face, "What's up?"
Gilbert's toothy smile greeted Alfred, and the strange, slightly creepy, ruby red eyes lit up. "Alfred! Have you come to zhe table of awesomeness to talk to zhe awesome me and mien awesome new friend!?" It took all the self control Alfred had to not roll his eyes.
"Of course, dude!" He answered energetically instead. Really, Alfred wanted to talk to Matthew, not Gilbert. Still, he couldn't just kick the albino out from the table he was at first. Alfred did have a reputation to protect, after all, and he definitely did NOT want to look like an asshole in front of the cute Canadian.
No, not cute. Alfred didn't think Matthew was cute. Not at all. Nope. Those wide violet eyes and that stray curl that bounced of the side of Matthew's head were in no way adorable. God, what was Alfred thinking? It was stupid to deny that Matthew was unattractive.
"Mien little birdy plays hockey!" Gilbert grinned again, bumping Matthew on the arm, "He's totally going to get onto the team, right?" For some reason, Alfred really didn't like the idea of Gilbert calling Matthew his 'birdy'. He smiled politely, growing less patient with the annoying German by the moment.
"That really depends on how he does, Gilbert," Alfred answered, his gaze shifting towards a slightly anxious looking Matthew, "But personally? I have really high hopes for this one," Alfred chuckled, patting Matthew on the back.
After that, the three drifted to another subject. Unfortunately, Alfred found out that Gilbert and Matthew had already compared schedules, and shared five classes with each other.
Alfred only had one class with Gilbert, but that meant there was a good chance he would be with Matthew as well. That class just happened to be gym, which made Alfred doubly excited to test Matthew's abilities.
"See you guys later!" Alfred grinned when the bell ring to dismiss the breaking students.
A goofy smile resided on his face, as it was obvious Matthew and Gilbert were hiding no secret feelings. Alfred went to fifth period History in a good mood.
Mr. Vargas, the teacher, let anybody sit wherever they wanted, and didn't care when students didn't pay attention. After all, it was their grades, not his. The girls were usually mesmerized by Mr. Vargas's good looks anyway, and the teacher was fun to listen to anyway.
Like any other teacher, Mr. Vargas had favorites. His two grandsons just happened to be the most annoying people in the class.
The Vargas brothers were about as different as two people could be. While Feliciano was innocent and sweet, Lovino was angry and… angry. Both were loud, and both were somewhat over emotional in their own way.
The hockey captain happened to be one of the first arrivals in the classroom. He chose to sit next to Elizabeta, a girl with long brown hair who claimed she was amazing at hockey.
It was probably one of Alfred's favorite classes. Especially when the new student came in.
The new Canadian student, that was. Meaning, the new Canadian student that Alfred had absolutely no attraction to. Right, none at all.
With a wave and a grin, Alfred beckoned the other boy to join him and Elizabeta at a nearby empty seat. "Matthew!" Alfred greeted him happily, "This is Elizabeta, she plays hockey as well, and Elizabeta, this is…" Alfred stopped speaking when he realized that the brown haired girl wasn't listening. She was absorbed in some sort of magazine.
Matthew smiled politely and offered a small wave as he took the seat, organizing his books, and placing two pencils at the top of his desk. "Hello, Alfred," Matthew nodded, glancing occasionally towards the front of the class, where Mr. Vargas seemed to be flirting with a couple school girls.
"Dude, can you actually believe that tryouts are in less than two hours? It's going to be so awesome! I've been brainstorming drills for weeks!" At this, Elizabeta lifted her face and closed her magazine, beaming at the two blond boys.
"You two better say your prayers, I'll be crushing you both tonight. You won't have two good legs to walk home on," She smirked at the visibly cowering Matthew, crossing her arms and leaning back in the seat, as though she owned the world. Alfred grinned at her confidence.
"Ah, well you can't hurt Matthew, dude! I don't like players who slash the goalies," Alfred joked. The bell had already rung, but Mr. Vargas didn't seem close to beginning the lesson, so the athletic blond boy ignored it.
"Oh, a goalie?" Elizabeta raised one eyebrow, a mischievous smirk appearing on her face, "Don't worry then! I won't hit you, none of the pucks will end up in front of you, they'll all go safely past,"
Matthew opened his mouth to say something, but before any cute Canadian squeeks could make their way out, a bold, accented voice bounced around the room.
"I'm sure you all remember learning about the Renaissance in seventh grade history class? Well, we'll just be reviewing that for the rest of this week, beginning with prominent figures during this time," It didn't take Alfred long to zone out, his memory wasn't bad, and he was confident in the subject already.
Subconsciously, he turned his head to watch the boy he had met just that morning scribbling notes on a lined sheet of paper. Alfred couldn't help but smile, he hadn't exactly expected anything else from Matthew Williams.
Sixth period gym came too soon, and Alfred changed into his gym clothes with only Matthew on his mind. The boy with the bright violet eyes and cute nervous personality seemed to be slowly killing him.
Whenever Alfred recalled him, which seemed to be constantly, the American felt his heart clench as though it were about to burst. And it felt… unhealthy, but for some reason, Alfred didn't much mind.
Matthew wasn't in the gym class, but Gilbert offered a type of refuge, constantly speaking so that Alfred didn't have to think much about the blond goalie.
Seventh period flew by in a rush, like it always did, and before Alfred knew it, he found himself strolling towards the rink, a few blocks away, his hockey bag over one shoulder, and his backpack over another.
Although he wasn't completely sure why, Alfred peered into each car window that passed, wondering if it could be Matthew's mother and his equipment.
None of them were.
Alfred, although he was surprised, was the first person in the locker room, but he sat back and waited for the rest of his to-be-team-mates to arrive, more excited than ever for the tryouts.
There wasn't a single doubt in Alfred's mind, this season was going to be good.