Another day, another piece of hell, he thought while walking along the soaked sidewalk on that rainy rain. His inactive cellphone shone a big '7:55' in bright, white font as water began to blurry the screen a bit. Too damn early. He, however, loved rainy days. They brought a sort of tranquility and solace that no other day could. Something about listening to the sound of small water droplets making their landing gently on the ground was always so, so damn peaceful to him. This day however, would be anything but peaceful, he realized, as he strolled under the cloudy gray sky with a pace that anyone would mistake for sickness, or sadness. But sickness nor sadness presented a problem to the young teen, he just wasn't looking forward to anything that day had to offer.
Second day of school. Second fucking day.
Technically, it would be his first since he'd ditched the day before to go hang with friend Solomon Crowe, and the kid's dad, Luke Harper. Not the best of influences in anyone's mind, the looks they usually got from people being of pure distrust, but they were, as had become the usual, his escape from that stupid system. He hated school with a passion and couldn't wait till the day they finally handed him that useless piece of paper they'd decided to call diploma because it sounded fancy. Yea, he couldn't wait to see that day where he would finally be free from it all, or better yet, they would let him leave early, kicking him out for good. He had tried before too, looking for ways in which they would give back the freedom they'd so shamelessly decided to take without his consent. He'd so desperately looked for a way out, from clogging all toilets in the boy's restrooms to breaking mops and other school property right in front of their faces. He had done it all in hopes enough would be enough and the fact that he wasn't worth the trouble be presented to them as clear as a Sunday morning. That would be the only way he could stop going. He couldn't just drop-out all of sudden, his old folks would notice, not like they could give 2 shits about him either way, but he still could not risk it.
The one good thing all those acts of "rebelliousness" had afforded him was a reputation. A way that people viewed him now he could not taint, and he tried hard to maintain that status in school. While those dorks found what he did "distasteful" or "reckless" and kept as far away as possible from him, he saw it as nothing but a good thing, a benefit. He didn't want people too close to him or wanting to be up his ass every second, so that reputation helped achieve that. It was something he wanted to keep, and it happened without much difficulty.
As his thoughts continued to flow, he kept walking. He didn't know if he was a masochist to his own demise or what it was. After a brief pause, to watch some birds fly over his head quickly looking for some shelter to avoid the approaching rain, and a long sigh emanating from his lips, he walked on catching a glimpse of the big, ugly, yellow and gray building in the short distance. Thoughts of how unattractive the place might look to its visitors began to invade his mind. Small droplets of water made their landing on his hands, tickling lightly. There was some thunder heard in the distance and that was his queue to cross the sidewalk as fast he could to get away from the loud booms. Yes he loved rain but couldn't stand lightning, it just freaked him out.
Thankfully his place was near school so he didn't have to walk a huge distance, and as he climbed the too-long steps to the front door, he paused briefly, door handle in hand, to take one last look at the outside. The outside world he wouldn't be free to roam, being chained to this damn place for 8 lifeless hours. He paused to the point where some kids, that'd been walking shortly behind, had to wait for him to finally step inside. They knew not to mess with the boy, one look from those baby blue eyes and their minds would automatically let them know not to say or do anything. To not even make a movement as they would only piss off the kid, who didn't mind punching anyone that would do so, hard. With that very present, the group of kids behind him waited a minute until he felt like stepping inside.
Dean Ambrose was the name. His walk was funny to a few people, not his attitude. Upon first glance he would almost go unnoticed. Almost. Once people got to take a glimpse of his personality they knew there was nothing funny or regular about him. He was as confident as they came, one of the few people who could be smooth as hell with the ladies, but beat the living shit out of anyone who annoyed him, if they even dared. Yes, that was his way in school, and as a result, his rowdy nature did not score him many friends. Hell, Solomon was probably his only friend in that place, the only person who could stand him. Not like he gave a damn. Pretty much every student there was either a goody-two-shoes or some rich, whiny kid. There was no one quite like him or Solomon. They were the only people not sucked in by the system and the standards people set. They lacked a true place in the world, and if they ever did find one, it would be as far away from everyone in that place as possible.
Right as he stepped inside, his forearm began aching under his dark red sweatshirt. He touched over it lightly and flinched so decided to ignore the quick burst of pain as he continued strolling along the narrow hallways. It would faint eventually, pain usually did. The bell rang and so he made his way to his first official class of the day. He'd been there the day before but had not gone to the rest of his classes, ditching right after the bell rang to go to 2nd.
He stepped inside the small, cubicle-like place and took the farthest seat he could find from the teacher, the usual spot in the back of the room. Mrs. Graham, a 60 year old woman, walked in behind a group of students who also took their seats. She was blind as a bat and would usually forget things easily. She was quite strict however, when her mind would finally remember to function, and was very sharp when it came to teaching. Dean had her before and would always say that if he ever reached that age, if he even did, he wanted to be just like Miss Kathie Graham, with serious physical signs of time catching up to you, but the brain intact, as if it still belonged to that 17 year old who sat in class many years ago. She was probably the only teacher he liked too, despite her slight limitations and obvious lack of attention span to anything or anyone other than teaching. But he liked her, or at least tolerated her. Every other teacher was just terrible... and they hated him. Miss Kathie at least tried.
After a slight nod and a "How are you?" from her part, the class went on without having to make much contact with anyone else. Geography was not really his forte but he loved the fact that he didn't have to interact much with those inane human beings. No, it was all reading silently and answering easy assignments, that supposedly contained super tricky and thought-provoking questions. Thank heavens for Mrs. Graham, who just wanted a quiet class. He hated talking or even looking at those people. He not only hated that place, he hated everyone in it too, and them going along with everything they were told to do was a big part of why.
By the time lunch came around his stomach was in knots from all the sitting and kissing ass he'd done in all the classes so far. He was the only sane person who'd missed the day before, apparently, so he had to introduce himself and talk about the things he liked and blah blah blah. Just thinking about it ruined his day, although it had been ruined even before he stepped through those doors and took off his hoodie.
He was either not really hungry, or his mind just decided to ignore the loud, concert-like growls now going on in his abdomen. He wasn't sure, so he opted for one of the lame "5% Reduced Fat" beverages they had in the fancy hi-tech fridges. The school system was so damn lame. Why not offer something normal like chips, or cookies, or some pizza. Hell, why was everything so disgustingly healthy? Why couldn't they just be treated like normal human beings, who enjoyed eating normal food? Why was everything so fucked up in that school? Too many questions, not enough interest to answer them all.
He took his juice and went up the set of stairs that lead out to a patio in the back of the building when he bumped into that Neville kid. He was heading to the cafeteria, and Dean the opposite way, when their shoulders brushed, causing Ambrose to push Neville lightly making him nearly fall on his ass. Thankfully, he was pretty agile and had good balance so he was able to stop himself before something terrible could happen. If Ambrose would even care, however, was the real question.
"Watch where the fuck you going mouse ears." The rebellious teen just stared a him, bad mood evident. A couple of the other kids that had been behind Neville just looked back and forth between them in shock, traffic suddenly stopping completely. Not like it had been Adrian's fault, that particular set of stairs was really tiny and compressed, it was inevitable that they would touch while going opposite directions. Dean was just in the mood to be a little shit and they all knew it. Hell, when was he not a little shit?
"S- sorry Dean." Was all the other boy could say. He was scared out of his soul at this little encounter. He knew, hell, everyone in that school knew what the older teen could be capable of, many of his previous fights providing more than enough evidence. Adrian was terrified that this might turn into one of the boy's many violent encounters to go right in his wide collection.
And he knew it might turn into just that when Ambrose grabbed the much smaller teen by the collar of his green buttoned-up shirt. Their faces were really close to touching, their noses only a millimeter apart, and nostrils registered the faint scent of cigarette smoke. Despite this annoying little turn of events, Dean didn't raise his voice as much as expected. He kept the tone quiet, menacing, and to the point, "Don't fucking call my name. Don't you ever even utter it you hear me?" He pointed straight at Neville with his free hand, index finger brushing with the kid's cheek, scratching a little. He balled up his fist.
The moment Adrian caught sight of that action, he immediately nodded as fast as he could, seriously taking into consideration if he should pray for his safety or not. The other students on their part, did not dare mutter a word, the idea of summoning every powerful force known to man in order to protect the kid probably not far from their minds either. Everyone just froze and so did time in Neville's mind, his body feeling numb, unable to move. Though that would probably be a good thing if he was indeed getting the crap kicked out of him in a few seconds.
After what felt like an infinity of nods from the small teen, and an infinity of seconds to everyone else, Dean just let him go, leaving as if nothing had happened brushing the rest of the kids off, who stepped out of his way, allowing him to walk. Neville's breathing was heavy. He had to shake his head wildly to get back to reality, his heart nearly thumping out of his chest. Everyone else just kept walking, some even laughing at the poor boy, and he felt like dissipating into thin dust. That was humiliation personified, but he couldn't possibly have done anything about it. Either scenario was bad, but it would've been much worse if Ambrose did indeed beat him up. With that in mind, he grabbed whatever little amount dignity was left for him and kept walking, thoughts of heading into the cafeteria now completely erased.
Dean on his part, inhaled the fresh after-rain air and stretched his arms above him, which had desperately yelled for it after all that sitting around. He was finally at his destination on the outside patio, and could not help but smile a bit. He was so terrible to people sometimes, but it was hilarious. He knew Neville hadn't done anything wrong, he wasn't stupid, but the face the boy had made of pure fear was so horribly funny to him. If someone took a long look inside his mind, and analyzed his thoughts at that moment, they would immediately call him a psychopath, not like he could help it. The kid might've pissed his pants afterwards and he would've gladly watched just for the shit and giggles. There was just something so fulfilling in fear, specially when it shone on little, helpless kids like Neville. He finally chose to shake those thoughts away, not wanting them to go on and actually turn him into a psycho.
After a little more examination of the place and how cramped up it was, he sighed. The spot was a little courtyard with a few benches and a square of grass right in the middle, the rest of the space being filled out with trees and random tables with chairs and colorful umbrellas attached to them over the concrete floor. What was meant to be a friendly spot where kids could go outside and soak in the sun, was actually just a claustrophobia-triggering piece of land with all the possibilities of being soaked from the rain, that fell nearly everyday, included. Not like he minded that last part.
There were a few kids sitting around, hanging out, bottles of water or juice in hand given they could not eat there, that's what the cafeteria was for apparently. Dean thought that was so stupid. And people wonder why kids hate school so much. Although by the looks of things, no one in that damn place had a problem with how things were handled, people just went along with it and that irked him so much. He hated everyone, but if there was a particular type of person he hated, if his dislike was triggered by a kind, it would be all those damn conformists. There was nothing he despised more than individuals who settled for whatever shit was thrown their way, no, he would never be alright with that.
In that cramped crowd of people he spotted Wade "Bad News" Barrett sitting on one of the tables, phone in hand. Why they called him "Bad News" exactly he didn't know. Apparently he was too negative, but he was a cool dude, better than a lot of them for sure despite the attitude. He was actually Dean's kind of person, someone who saw the reality of it all and did not live in a damn bubble, like most of the doofs in that place chose to.
The older teen waved at Dean who was now approaching him, putting his shades on in the process, "How's it going mate?" His deep voice came out in a thick British accent. A lot of exchanged students usually ended up transferring to Nation High, Dean not quite understanding why out of all the places they could go to, but that's how things functioned. Thanks to a foreign exchange program, that lasted anywhere from 5 to 6 years, about 20 of them had arrived to their middle school a while back, Wade and that geek Neville being a part of the group. Thanks to that he'd known them since then. Barrett was a pretty cool dude, usually supplying Dean with the best dope he could find. As a result, both he and Solomon had maintained a good relationship with the older boy. He was already a Senior and would be leaving the next year back to England, so Dean somehow felt obligated to spend some time with the guy, or at least buy as much dope as possible from him, whichever worked.
He sat right in front of Barrett, also on top of the table, "Cool man. The usual... shitty school, shittier people. You know."
Wade chuckled a bit, of course he knew. He hated school as much or even more than Dean, being probably the only person who could achieve that, "Hah. Guess I got the right stuff this time then." He reached inside his coat pocket and handed Dean a little plastic bag, that upon further examination, elicited an excited smile from the younger boy. Good thing he was sporting shades.
"Ha-ha!" He weighed the contents of the bag a little and asked, "How much?"
Wade smiled, "Call it a little gift of sorts."
Dean furrowed his eyebrows, confused, "Nah man..." Wade only nodded and did some bowing, seemingly proud of himself, "Really?"
"Of course." He spoke loudly and that caused for his accent to show even more, making Ambrose chuckle a bit, "Didn't really have to do much for that particular product this time anyway so... it's a sort of bonus to you for being such a good customer I guess."
"Geez. Thanks man. Appreciate it." He waved the tiny bag in front of them a bit before putting it inside his backpack, "This will definitely kick the spot."
Barrett laughed pretty loudly causing a few heads to turn towards their table. Ambrose ignored them and the English boy just spoke, "I knew it would. You and Solomon are some of my best customers." He looked around briefly, "Where is that lad anyway?"
"No idea. Probably didn't feel like it today, you know how he is."
"Of course of course. Can't say I blame him." They both chuckled and Dean nodded, "Didn't see him yesterday either. As matter of fact, I didn't see you either lad. Didn't feel like it too?"
The younger teen adjusted his position, both arms behind him leaning on the table, he looked up at the cloud-filled sky and with a sigh said, "Nope. This place fucking sucks."
"Yea." He pointed at Dean's backpack now sitting on the floor, "Hope that helps."
Ambrose chuckled, "Oh, it will." His eyes turned to Barrett, "Thanks again man. Wish more people here were as chill as you. Specially all those geeks I see out in the hall everyday."
Wade immediately sensed something was in the young boy's mind, "Anyone in particular lad?"
"Nah. Just bumped into Neville today. He damn near threw me down the stairs the way he shouldered me. Had to put some fear into the kid. Scared the shit out of him too." That part made him smirk some more, something he couldn't help.
Barrett just shook his head, but Dean caught glimpse of the smirk also forming on his lips, "Seems Neville isn't really your type of person, I see lad."
Dean quickly responded, "Not just him. I have a problem with pretty much everyone in this place it seems. Or- you know what? Everyone has a problem with me. Not like I ever do anything much to bother them or whatever, I ain't no damn bully. They just like... annoy me." He sat up facing Barrett and made expressions with his hands, as he accustomed, to emphasize his point, "Like that Neville dude." He motioned to himself as if offended and Barrett chuckled, "I never even looked at the boy. I mean yea, in middle school I might have given him a wedgie or 2, but- that was decades ago. The boy needs to move on and understand I am not someone you should irk. But that's what these people do every damn time you know."
Barrett held his arms in front of him, "Ok lad I get it. I understand too. This system..." He got closer to Dean to the point where the young boy could smell his tobacco-infused breath. Barrett was actually the one who got him into chewing. With a loud whisper the England native said, "this system ain't for us man. I am telling you, this place... everything in it from the defenseless morons like Adrian Neville, to the petty rich kids like Dolph Ziggler. They belong here. This however is not a place for you, or me, or Solomon even. We have never belonged here lad, ever. And we damn never will."
Dean scoffed, of course he knew all that, "But that's a great thing Barrett. No, think about it." He paused briefly, checking out some of the girls passing by their table making Wade laugh, "Why would we want to belong in a place where everyone lives in a damn bubble. Where people..." Another pause, his voice getting lower, "where people just take whatever bullshit is handed to them. I ain't about that shit. I will never be. They live in a pink plastic bubble, but see, you" He pointed towards Wade, index finger landing on the older teen's firm chest briefly before Ambrose pointed at himself, "and me, we see reality Barrett. We see behind all that supposed happiness in this goody-goody system. We aren't trapped in it, not because we chose not to, but because they..." Dean motioned to the entire building before their eyes, "did not choose us. And that my friend, my lad..." He now moved his hand towards his own head, tapping lightly with his knuckle on the now puffy hair, "is because of what we have in here. They don't- they don't want kids who know what's up. Who can distinguish between pink and the color of shit, and this... this is anything but pink."
Right when he said those words the bell rang. Ambrose jumped down from his place, not taking his eyes off the building. He stood there for a while, eyeing everything and everyone, watching their every move, his mind deep in thought. That had been a pretty... thought-stimulating conversation they'd just had. He couldn't say he wasn't used to it however, these kinds of subjects usually sparked up whenever he hung out with Barrett and Solomon, specially when high. He didn't have any problem with that. Dean enjoyed those talks, but what he enjoyed more was what came after. Those fragments in his mind telling him, convincing him, that one day things might just change. He saved their talks, sure, but the afterthoughts, those he treasured.
With a sigh the young teen noticed the droplets starting to fall on his unruly, sand-colored hair which was a puffed-up messy bunch. He pulled the hoodie over his head and did not take off his shades. He looked over to Barrett, who surprisingly had not moved from his spot. Despite the water landing over his short, black hair, the English boy stayed there, deep in thought, his posture not once changing or registering that the bell had just rung.
Dean thought he waited there until forever so he finally decided to speak, "Hate to break you out of your daze there man, but uh, are you coming?"
Barrett spoke, seemingly aware of what was happening, just choosing to ignore it all, "You know what lad? You are right." That was all he said when he got off the table shaking his head, "I am not going to the rest of my classes."
"You serious?"
He nodded, "Yes I- I have some deep... deep thinking to do." He approached Dean and grabbed him lightly by the arm, surprising the boy. Wade's talk at that moment was quiet, almost non-existent given all the noise surrounding them, "You got a very bright mind there lad. Very... interesting thoughts. You speak nothing but the truth you hear me. Nothing but the goddamn truth, and these..." He motioned towards the building and the students now leaving them behind, rushing to get inside before it started pouring, "this goody-goody system as you call it, will try to reverse your thoughts. To make them disappear, to make you one of them. I already know they will. I can see those assholes already." His voice was laced with feeling, truly meaning what he was saying, "You are too valuable for them to ignore- for society to pass up the opportunity on someone with thoughts like yours. Someone who can actually tell right from wrong. Believe me when I say they will try to take you away to- to change you... according- in tune with their standards. Make you one of them. By heavens lad don't..." There was a pause from Barrett, and Dean could tell he was being completely honest. The English boy spoke slowly, attempting to place extra emphasis on what he was trying to engrave in the younger teen's head, "don't... let... them." With that he let go of Ambrose's arm and walked, nearly jogged towards one of the 3 doors leading inside the building, the one going opposite of Dean's direction. Wade paused right at the frame, handle in hand, and turned to grant one last look at the young boy staring back intently, "Gotta go Dean. See you around okay."
All Ambrose could do was nod, the rest of his body not registering what the word "movement" was. The things Barrett just said to him had... definitely hit a nerve. Hard. They kept him glued on that one spot as the rest of the kids went on to their classes. When everyone else kept going, he stayed back... thinking. His mind just kept coming up with more and more thoughts, making him realize right then: 6th period would have to wait another day.
By the time 8th period came around, Ambrose was seriously thinking about ditching. He'd already not gone to 6th, he might as well not go to this next class.
Calculus.
Fuck his damn life. Math was a subject he was not necessarily fond of, and as he paused outside Room 10 really considering just placing it all on hold for one more day, he took out the wrinkled schedule and analyzed it. He was surprised the damn thing was still readable given his backpack's lack of organization. He frowned at his previous classes and their teachers, his eyes going down to 8th period noticing there was no teacher listed on there. That was weird. He hadn't had a new teacher since probably middle school and this, unfortunately, sparked a level of unexpected curiosity. Where that had surfaced from he didn't know, but it made him quickly get inside ignoring the sudden uneasiness that little plastic bag on his sock brought him.
Walking into the quiet, nearly-empty room, he didn't pay mind to the figure sitting behind the teacher's desk. As was now the usual, he chose the seat in the back corner, and as was also now the usual, he noticed so far there was no one he knew in that class.
The seat he wanted was taken already by another doof, causing the teen to approach him pointing at another seat with his best pokerface on, "Move." That simple word, despite being muttered as casually as possible, made the smaller boy nearly trip on his own 2 feet as he quickly searched for another seat. Dean settled on his new chair with a big smile on his face, dropping his backpack on the floor. He winked at the young man behind the desk who was now eyeing him intently, expressionless. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a dark figure also staring at him even after he'd sat down. He looked over and there was...
Seth Rollins?
What the hell was that kid doing in his class? He'd thought by the time they both reached Junior year, being the smartest kid in school and all, he might've been in college by then, nearing graduation with a PhD or some shit. That the boy was still in high school was probably the biggest shock of the century. How were the rest of the students not questioning this? The kid was literally Jesus personified walking around their campus. He was nice to everyone and could do absolutely no wrong, not to mention he was really smart too. Dean didn't know exactly how much the kid knew, but he was damn sure there was probably an encyclopedia glued to his brain. Hell, he'd probably already solved all the mysteries in the world and debunked all the myths, that's how smart the boy was. That was probably the main reason their little encounters before had turned out... unpleasant for Seth, to say the least. Yea, he was probably the one person in that place Dean had messed with more than anyone. He just couldn't help it. Seth was just so goddamn easy to annoy and that was what Dean looked for when being a little shit, someone who couldn't bear the thought of any sort of imperfection. He was also your typical rich, unthankful goody-two-shoes, but that was for another time.
"Hey how's it going Seth?" Dean smirked and winked at the young boy who was still staring back a few rows away, disgust evident on his face. The classroom was already filled up with all kinds of chatter, but Seth wasn't that much harder to spot. That boy stood out like a sore thumb, as much as he tried not to, "How's daddy doing?" The dishonest smile still drawn on Dean as he spoke, keeping tone casual, as if they were the best of buddies.
The younger teen simply narrowed his eyes and turned around to look at the teacher. Dean had been so caught up, searching for ways to annoy Rollins even more, that he didn't notice the pair of gray eyes regarding both boys intently, fingers slowly caressing chin. Seth, however, did notice, making Dean look up at the man in front of the classroom. The tall figure stood up and went to close the door never quite taking his eyes off the both of them. After doing so, he addressed the class, "Welcome back students." There was a unison of voices cheerfully answering "Hi Mr. Reigns" back at him. Ambrose just eyed everyone, disgusted at the cordiality. Reigns spoke back, smiling up at the congregation, "Hope everyone had a good day yesterday." Some of the girls nearby giggled as Mr. Reigns walked over to his desk, "Some of the things going on today:" He grabbed sheets of papers from the large surface and started passing them out, "I want you each to answer this questionnaire. You know, just the usual stuff, telling me about yourselves and what you like, etc."
Great, Dean thought. More goddamn questions about himself. Didn't that place ever have enough?
Reigns kept talking, "After that..." When he approached Dean he paused, eyeing the young boy intently, seemed like since class had started he hadn't been willing to take his eyes off him, "I am going to assign seats." Dean stared back at the man, not liking that last part too well.
Once Reigns' back was to him, handing out more papers, not once pausing again for anyone, Ambrose spoke, keeping his tone as casual as possible, "Uh, Mr. Reigns?" Roman turned back to look at the shaggy teen, stopping right in front of Rollins' desk, "That's your name right? That's what all these, uh... students called you." He had to contain a smirk upon registering some of the expressions in that bunch, "So, uh, you mentioned something about moving or switching seats, sir?"
The young teacher chuckled, "Roman's the name actually, and yes. That's exactly what I said Dean." The professor quickly responded, one question immediately invading the brunette's mind: How the hell did this guy know his name?
That, unexpectedly, took him by surprise, which Reigns' noticed, making him smirk a little, "Well, I'm not doing it." The young teen smirked back and stretched his arms behind the chair, "I already found my place, and as you can tell... with a lot of effort." He pointed to the kid that he'd taken the seat from, the poor boy at least 6 chairs away, "Poor old Billy there had to make that little sacrifice for me, but let me tell you, it doesn't go unnoticed. So, uh, Billy?" He looked over to the boy and bowed a little, the most serious expression registered on his face, it was almost funny to watch, "Thank you." Billy just nodded, not really having much of a choice being terrified and all. Dean turned his attention back to Reigns, the rest of the kids knowing exactly what he was doing, letting out quiet chuckles in the process, "So yea... I think I'm good." He smiled, amusement not far behind.
"Is that so?" Roman's expression didn't seem angry, but curious more than anything. He had a lot more patience than his dominating appearance led on.
Ambrose just nodded once, "Yep."
Reigns continued passing out papers, he smiled down at Seth who shook his head at the other teen's behavior, mouthing a quick "I'm sorry". What was Dean's problem? Didn't he ever get along with anyone? Couldn't he give anyone a break, ever? Rollins felt so bad for Roman. That was unacceptable. He should've kicked the dude out forever as soon as he'd decided defying his authority was a good idea. Too bad he couldn't do anything, even if he wanted to with a passion. It would be no use. Ambrose just... he just didn't care. That in mind, all that was left now for him was to start working on his paper, and so he did.
The class had gone on in silence for about 30 more minutes when Roman approached Dean, stopping right in front of the kid's desk. He'd refrained from making the boy introduce himself, not because he didn't want to, the actual reason being he noticed Ambrose's mouth probably knew no boundaries. He was rowdy, and would be quick to snap if need be. Roman wasn't looking for that this soon, it was barely the second day. The young boy was working intently on something, head nearly glued to the desk. Upon further look Reigns noticed the doodles on the kid's notebook, making him shake his head in frustration. He caught a glimpse of the questionnaire, still intact, and that bothered him a little more than it should have.
"Dean..." The teen seemed to be blocking everyone and everything out, extremely focused, so he had to call out again, "Dean."
Finally he looked up, a bit confused but having expected this at the same time, "Yea?"
"Can I speak with you outside the classroom?"
All the brunette did was look around, not really knowing what to do. He noticed most of the kids were starring at him, Dolph Ziggler in particular with a smirk on his face. That sonofabitch. He'd been smirking his ass off too when he had stolen that geek's seat, now apparently found him being potentially in trouble amusing as well. Fuck him, Dean thought as he stood up walking towards the door. Fuck all of them. He felt heavy footsteps not far behind him, and after a few "Oooohs" and gasps from students relieved to have the problematic boy out of there, they both walked out. Roman had to quiet the class down, telling them that when they came back he would be assigning seats.
Dean sighed, both now in the empty, quiet hallway. Standing between long walls and lockers made him realize that he actually preferred the place full of chatter and commotion. That surprised him. Maybe it was the tension in the air after Roman walked out. He felt it, almost choking him to death, so he decided to turn his back to the man.
"Dean." He spoke, that voice one of the deepest sounds he'd ever heard, "Do you know why I am pulling you out here?"
Ambrose just stared far off into the distance, leaning against a locker in the process, still not looking up at Roman who had to walk his way in front of him, "Uh, let's see." He started counting with his fingers, "I interrupted one of your speeches. I am disruptive, annoying to the other kids. I disturb the peace in class and learning process..." He paused, it was almost as if he was reading off a script, when in reality he'd just been told those things so many times before. This was not the first time a pissed off teacher had taken him outside the classroom to scold the teen, "Oh, and I took this kid's seat- well, he technically took my spot so... I had a reason for that." He chuckled at the words, ticking Roman off. What was so funny?
"So that amuses you." The statement seemed to have annoyed the teen a bit more than necessary, specially since it hadn't come off as a question, but a fact. What did the man know about anything? Even if he tried to conceal it behind a chuckle and a nod, it was evident to Roman, "You like bothering people Dean? Because if you do then I will have no choice but to-"
"Ah forget it." The boy started to walk off, leaving the confused teacher behind, "I will take my ass to Cena's office myself." He looked back at Reigns just standing there and stretched his arms comfortably, "I don't need YOU for that."
"Dean where the hell do you think you're going?" He called out, the words appearing a little more loud than intended.
Ambrose just kept walking, "Not to your class that's for damn sure." Despite his voice becoming distant with every step the young boy took, it could still be heard, "I prefer Cena a million times anyway. We get along so don't worry about me." With that, he turned the corner, leaving Roman the only living soul on that hall.
The older man just stood there, shocked. In the years he'd been teaching, nothing quite like this had ever happened and he didn't know how to react if he was being honest. Every single type of individual possible had shown up to his class, from crazy weirdos to snobby, snappy daddy's boys. Each with their own personalities and actions triggered by those same personalities. Yea he would say he'd seen it all, but now he was not so sure. Despite his years on the constant grind, no student had ever walked off on him as if nothing, in a badass way almost. No. There was nothing funny or cool to Reigns at that moment about the little situation. He had to shake his head, shake off the thoughts of sudden amusement that arose. No. He had to take this damn serious. And damn serious he remained as he walked back into the classroom, trying extremely hard to conceal the chuckle that just kept showing up.
Ambrose headed off to the principal's office. John Cena, the self-proclaimed "Face Who Runs The Place". Aside from Mrs. Graham, Cena was probably the only other person Ambrose got along with, and quite well too. He was so easy to talk to and deal with. Dean would even go as far as to say he was pretty damn cool. Not to mention he would also forgive most of the boy's troubles, that he knew by now were many.
Dean didn't even knock when he arrived, Cena should probably have it pretty clear by then that he was spending half the year in that place. The look on the man's face registered everything but surprise as the teen entered the small, air-conditioned office, "What did you do now Dean?" Despite the obvious attempt at a serious tone, a hint of a smile crept up on the principal's face. Standing up from the giant, comfortable-looking computer chair, Cena made his way to where Dean was standing.
"Ah, you know... the usual." Ambrose smiled back and held his hands up defensively triggering a chuckle from Cena, his secretary choosing to simply shake her head.
John pulled out one of the chairs from the small closet and set it on what had become the young boy's usual spot, right in front of his desk, "Sit down Dean." He had to admit he actually liked chatting it up with the boy, their conversations being, in a way, educational.
Yea, this would definitely be way better than anything that stupid class had to offer, Dean thought. Whatever it was, he didn't want it.
An hour of chatter and laughter passed then school was out. Ambrose was the first one out the building, celebratory smirk on his face. He eyed the surroundings as thoughts of that day began showing up in his mind. That evening had been quite interesting no doubt, but as he walked on the now sunny scenery, dark shades in hand, he quickly realized those thoughts would have to wait until tomorrow.
There you have it, after seriously toasting my brain trying to start this. Dean is such a douche it seems lol. Hope you all enjoyed. Reviews as always are welcomed!