Arthur hated being here in America, people would gawk at his accent, girls would giggle to their friends, and guys would give him dirty looks or laugh whenever he said "bloody" or "Cricky." What was the big deal? He was British, big fucking deal.
Rain started to drizzle down the thick glass, giving a perfect image of Arthur's dark mood. Alfred turned to him, tapping his fingers on Arthur's desk until the Brit turned to him. "Hey, do you have anything I could write with?" Alfred asked, showing a pencil broken in half. Arthur made a "Tsk" sound and pulled a shiny black pen out.
"Think you can handle writing without a rubber?" Arthur asked, and a stupid grin crossed the American's face. Alfred looked at the pen then to Arthur's face. "What's with the look?" Arthur growled.
"Why would I need a rubber to write?"
"Well, to fix your mistakes, git," Arthur said, rolling his eyes. Alfred started tapping his pen on his desk, still smiling.
"Funny, I always thought rubbers were to prevent mistakes." Alfred winked at him then laughed. "You really have no idea where I'm going with this. Come here, I'll whisper what 'rubber' means in America." Arthur leaned forward and turned his ear to Alfred, "It means condom," Alfred said with his hands cupped around him mouth. Turning red, he quickly jerked back into his chair. Alfred laughed softly and the two where scolded for distracting the class.
Arthur crossed his arms, his face still cherry red, "That's sick."
"No, no it's not. It's better to have safe sex than unprotected sex," Alfred whispered, so not to let nosy people overhear him.
"It's better not to have sex at all!" Arthur hissed between clenched teeth. The red had started to fad from his face a little. "Even if it's safe there are still risks," He added, and Arthur gave a nod.
"So, you're a virgin."
"How did we get to this topic again?" Arthur said, the redness threatening to creep back to his face again.
"Rubbers. So, are you?" Alfred asked, biting the top of the pen.
"Are you?" Arthur growled.
"I asked first," Alfred said in a childish tone. Arthur growled again. "Go on, tell, tell, tell," He smiled and took the pen that he had chewed on and poked Arthur's cheek with it.
Smacking the pen away, Arthur gave in, "If I tell you, will you shut the hell up?" Arthur hisses, wiping his cheek off. Alfred nodded his head, wiggling around in his chair. "Good. I'm a virgin," He said.
"Same here. See, that wasn't so hard." Arthur smiled, the bell giving a 'ding' to let them know class was over.
Matthew, being smarter than his twin, was able to skip a couple of freshman classes; math, English, and French I. French I was optional but he was able to take a test to get straight into French II. His first class of the day was his freshman American history class, which he hated. Actually, it was the teacher he hated. The teacher lacked one important thing all teachers needed, spelling skills. So he walked to his next class, his books close to his chest. He entered the classroom of 10th graders who didn't even notice him walk in. Matthew took a seat in the back and pulled out his subject book.
He started to read when a figure came running into the room with a paper trail in his wake. Matthew looked up and saw the grinning face of the guy who fell asleep in his lap during the school bus ride. There was only one desk left open, right next to Matthew.
The teacher gave the student a dirty look but Gilbert only flashed a smile. She pointed, with a scowl, to the open seat. Winking, he took the seat and noticed Matthew, "Hey, it's my pillow from before. How ya doing cutie?" He smiled and gave him a wink. Matthew would have moved seats… if there were any seats left. So, with a sigh, he looked off to the side. "Awww, come on birdie, don't be such a bitch," Gilbert whispered.
"What do you want?" Matthew said, peeking over at him. For an albino, he had to admit, Gilbert was good looking. The teacher started talking, holding a ruler in her hand as she spoke. She didn't seem to notice people silently talking to each other.
He said something poorly in French. Matthew turned red and tossed his book at the head of the silver hair. It hit and bounced off, "What the hell!" Gilbert yelped.
"I speak French you chienne," Matthew yelled! Yet no heads turned towards the outburst. Gilbert rubbed his head where the book bounced off, a red mark forming in a cube-like shape.
"Shit, what did I say?" Gilbert asked, wide-eyed.
"It was dirty, so dirty I can't even repeat it." Matthew blushed and covered his face in shame.
Gilbert mumbled angrily under his breath. "Hey, sorry about that, it was just something my friend taught me to say. He said French impresses girls…" Gilbert said with an embarrassed look on his face.
Matthew turned a darker shade of red. "I'm a boy." Gilbert's face deepened with embarrassment. Matthew's face was burning. Really? Was this guy an idiot, or did he really think Matthew was a girl. That's what Matthew wanted to know. Gilbert then started to stare at him, rather intensely. Matthew moved around, uncomfortable under the gaze, but Gilbert's stare didn't ease up.
"There is no way you're a guy. You're too pretty!"
"I'm as much of a guy as you are!" He yelled and still no one seemed to notice. Gilbert shook his head saying 'no'. Matthew tossed yet another book at him. That book skimmed over the top of his head. "I'm not a girl!" He yelled a little louder.
"Prove it then. Go on, sweet hips, prove it," Gilbert teased with a seductive little smirk. Matthew blushed at the slight challenge.
"P-prove it? How?" This only turned the sexy little smirk into a wicked yet clever grin. The albino looked like a demon. He reached his arm out, grabbing Matthew's shirt and pulled him closer. Matthew squeaked as his cheeks got hot.
"We're both guys, right, then you should have no problem trading clothes with me. Meet me in the bathroom by the gym. No one goes there anymore." Gilbert released Matthew with a grin. Matthew blushed even more at the very thought of having to strip for some guy he's never met before. He felt light-headed. Gilbert looked pretty fit, "Well, sweet hips, what do ya say?"
"I'll do it as long as you don't call me sweet hips."
Alfred was pretty disappointed that he didn't have another class with the green-haired Brit. The older teen was entertaining to mess with. So now Alfred was sitting in the middle row of his scheduled class, next to Toris. Toris scribbled down a note before folding it into a basic shape and tossing it onto the desk of the blond in front of them. The blond opened the note and looked over his shoulder at the two. "Like, who's note is this, like, for?"
Toris blushed, "It's for you, Fexlics," He whispered, blushing darker. Alfred grinned and looked out the window. He wanted to see Arthur again. Alfred sighed and his stomach growled as it begged for a meal. The bell rang and people stood from their desk and shoved their way out the door. The teacher waved to them as they walked and Alfred walked by with his books under his arm. He was starving to death. He dumped his things into his locker and fast walked to the lunch room. Sure enough, he was able to pick out the head of green hair. He made his way to the table where the other sat when the football players stopped him.
"Hey, your number 50 on the middle school team, aren't you? Hey, are you coming to the tryouts after school? The team could use a kid like you." One player said. Alfred smiled, beaming with his love for the sport.
"Of course," Alfred exclaimed! "Wouldn't miss it for the world."
The football team smiled and invited him to join them at their table. Alfred looked over at Arthur before sitting down with the team.
"You can sit here whenever you want; we just have one rule… wait, two. One is, girlfriends aren't allowed at the table. If you want to sit with her it's fine. Two, no lady drama," A player said after taking a huge gulp of some cheap energy drink. Alfred nodded his head.
"Well, you guys won't have to worry about me bringing lady drama to the team. I'm single and my ex doesn't go to this school," Alfred informed them with a smile.