When Robbie turns up on Beck's doorstep the next day he's tense and half expecting a battle. He raps his knuckles against the thick wooden door and the ensuing footsteps behind it sound like the beat of war drums. He really hopes Beck hasn't given up on school after just the first day of the semester.
"Well, lets go." Beck's at ease while stepping through the doorway. Shifting to let Beck past, Robbie shakes his head. He's let his nerves get the best of him again. If this is a war, it's a war of the flies, insignificant in the grand scheme of things.
The streets are empty as they walk; maybe it's the chill in the air. Robbie's passively listening to Beck's recollection of his stolen day off all the way up until the tail end. With the mention of a grounding and the ensuing call to the principal Robbie's fully alert.
"My Dad is kind of a hard ass." Beck surmises, shoulders jumping like his parents haven't wrangled him special lunchtime detentions for the rest of the week.
Though he's only indirectly affected by Beck's punishment, Robbie feels his nerves fray again. All of the insecurities he'd wrestled en route to sleep last night come surging forth again. It's selfish he knows, but Robbie feels his confidence swiftly bleeding out. Lifting his thumb to his mouth and gnawing at his knuckle, Robbie finds himself confronted with the prospect of being marooned at a solitary table for the second time in a week. He doubts he'll be fortunate enough to be rescued by a passing Vega two days in a row.
When they arrive at Hollywood Arts, the corridors are still overflowing with students. Though he feels slight relief at being on time, Robbie feels slightly overwhelmed at the sheer volume of people. A dramatic contrast to yesterday, Robbie finds that he's one of the first people to arrive at Chemistry. It's reassuringly vacant and he's grateful for the opportunity to collect himself.
He's not entirely disappointed when his peace is brought to an end by Tori slipping into the seat beside him. A quick greeting breezes through her lips. She's wearing a canary yellow blouse today, a ray of sunshine in Robbie's mostly drab existence. He's not so smooth, fumbling a greeting and then asking how her night had been. Tori throws her head back at that, laughter bubbling through her lips. As she regales him with a story about how big of a disaster the Vega family games night had ended up being, Robbie can't help but grin stupidly. He forgets all about attempting to secure a seat with Tori during lunch period, squandering his opportunity to ask by tossing dated board game jokes in Tori's direction. She's in the process of offering her own terrible joke when Mr Ferguson arrives, excessively large textbook in hand.
The class flies past Robbie in a blur. He swears they've only just opened their textbooks when the bell rings again and Mr Ferguson is dismissing them. Even though Tori lingers in her seat, shuffling away her notes, Robbie still can't quite pluck up to courage to broach the subject of his impending lunchtime solitude. Tori eventually departs, wriggling her fingers in farewell. Robbie just goes to his next class, footsteps heavy with dread.
The bell for lunch period both sneaks up on Robbie and hangs over his head for the entire morning. It strikes like a bolt of lightning in the middle of a storm. Robbie jolts, limbs going rigid as though electricity has flooded his veins.
Mournfully, Robbie makes his way first to his locker, and then toward the quad. He drags his heels the entire time, attempting to swallow as much time as possible. Conversations between friends and plans for seating arrangements echo inside of Robbie's head the entire way. In spite of his sluggish pace, the quad is mostly empty when Robbie runs his eyes over it. His lungs deflate with a sigh, and shoving his hands into his pockets, Robbie meanders over to the table Beck and himself had occupied on Monday. If Beck's somehow managed to elude detention, this is where he'll come.
"Long time, no see." A voice, sunshine and sweetness laced with a trace of irony, floats over Robbie's shoulder. The dull bass of a bag dropping onto the steel table he's seated at accompanies its sweet melody. Twisting in the direction of the sound, Robbie's eyes fall upon a pair of bronzed legs sliding onto the bench beside him. Cheeks ablaze, Robbie abruptly shifts his gaze upward. He's still blinking away the shock of who is sitting next to him when Tori's carelessly launching into conversation with him.
Maybe his brain is still in shock, but Robbie actually manages to say something witty in relation to Tori's anecdote about the play she's rehearsing for. She's so aggressively friendly that Robbie's not even straining to converse with her when Andre arrives a few minutes later. He's armed with a lament about how much he hates his English class as he drops into the seat opposite to Robbie. Again, Robbie says something that is apparently funny. Andre laughs, loud and booming. Robbie's first instinct is to panic, one too many mean spirited chuckles having cut through him in the past, but Andre's eyes are crinkled appreciatively. There's no pointing or murmured slights, just amusement. Robbie feels his bones settle and his muscles loosen. The consistently present ball of tension in his chest seems to unwind slightly. Dare he say it, but Robbie actually begins to feel comfortable.
"Why are we sitting here?" Jade doesn't spit the words in Robbie's direction, but the suspicion is thick within her tone.
"Robbie saved us a table." Tori offers, taking a bite from her sandwich like this is an every day occurrence. Robbie's eyes immediately dart to her, heart pounding heavily against his chest. They've just barely met and he's saving tables for Tori, an expected and not entirely unwelcome part of her day? Robbie's just beginning to unravel the mystery of that thought when he feels Jade's eyes on him. Bristling uncomfortably, Robbie looks up at her, eyes widening with fear.
"It's dark." She muses, looking up at the hard lines of the steel balcony above them. "I like it."
Again, Robbie's caught off guard, blinking furiously at the situation he's been confronted with. He'd been the first to arrive at a table, and now three other people have willingly enough joined him. Running his eyes over the three very different faces around him, Robbie takes a slow, careful breath. He isn't sure where he stands with Andre and Jade, maybe he's just in charge of reserving their table. He's little more certain with Tori. He's pretty sure that they're friends and that she's attempting to make friends for him. Throughout the rest of their lunch break Tori reels him into several conversations, actually succeeding in sparking a brief discussion between Robbie and Andre about guitars.
The bell for class sends them all scattering for class. Tori squawks and takes off toward the black box theatre, while Robbie splits from Andre and Jade with a stilted farewell. Though he's alone again, Robbie finds himself thinking that Beck's haphazard start to the semester may not have been the worst thing in the world. It's only been one lunch period and Robbie wouldn't call them a clique exactly, but he's confronted with the unfamiliar feeling of optimism. At his last school, friends had been few and far between. He'd only three days into his Hollywood Arts career, but even a weed amongst the beautiful and talented flowers of Hollywood Arts, Robbie can't help but feel the slightest bit comfortable. With his tenuous links to Andre and Jade, he's not quite sure if he's been accepted into Tori's social circle. Even still, these people, the beautiful people, they've been more welcoming toward him than the normal students at Sherwood Junior High. Robbie's stricken by the irony of it all, but forces his mind not to wander too deeply into the thought. As a child, when he'd still been around, Robbie's dad had consistently told his son to interact with kids his own age. It's only now, three years after the divorce, that Robbie can see the light at the end of the tunnel. He thinks it might be fanning out around the lithe figure of Tori Vega, but his eyesight's never been great.
It's his second day at Hollywood Arts, but Robbie's never really taken the chance to look at anything but the students and a lot of the time, the floor. Feeling less like an intruder within its walls after spending lunch period with Tori and her friends, Robbie slows his stroll and takes in the peculiar architecture of the school. Running his eyes along the psychedelic colours splashed across the walls, Robbie's reminded of Sherwood Middle School. Stark, grey walls lining a claustrophobic interior. It had been more a prison than a school, miserable inmates shuffling through its corridors alternating between snarls and apathy. Walking towards his next class, Guitar Theory, Robbie wishes he had wilted to his Mom's attempts at having him audition years earlier. He wonders if he would have met Tori, Andre, or even Jade years earlier if he had. Maybe he was destined to several years penance at Sherwood in order to stumble across them.
The Guitar Theory classroom is if nothing else, a sea of guitars. Dropping into a seat toward the front of the room, Robbie feels a little awed. He's been playing guitar for years, mostly on his father's beaten up acoustic. Even before he really knew what he was doing, Robbie remembers sitting on his fathers lap, chubby fingers pawing at the strings. In the past two years, he's learnt to play chord and sing at the same time, which he's heard is difficult. Maybe it's the analytical part of his brain or leftover talent from his father, but the articulations of different chords and rhythms come quite willingly to Robbie's fingertips. Between all of his eccentricities and difficulties with socialising, Robbie feels normal while he's strumming his guitar. He can kid himself that he's just like any other fifteen year old that wants to be a rock star.
"I thought you were in this class too." Robbie's plucked from his collection of thoughts and recollections by a deep baritone voice. Turning sharply, Robbie watches curiously as Andre of all people clambers into the seat beside him.
"Yeah," He replies absently, eyes wandering over the empty desks scattered in front of them. It's not Rob, not usually, but Robbie thinks he could get used to it. He's been Robbie, friendless and an island unto himself to enough people in enough classes. It's kind of nice to be Rob, possible friend. It's a little like the tickling feeling of normality that playing guitar brings about within him.
Another class, another person willing to talk to him. Robbie thinks he could get used to this.
Over the next six weeks, Robbie falls into a comfortable routine. Hollywood Arts ceases to be a labyrinth of fluorescent corridors and unfamiliar places. Robbie feels slightly more comfortable in his own skin. The one exception is the lead up to the first lunch period after Beck has served his last in a long line of lunchtime detentions. Jittery all morning, Robbie is a nervous wreck by the time Tori flops into the seat beside him in Chemistry class.
"You're wazzing." She states bluntly, eyebrows hooking over her nose.
A shaky laugh rattles through Robbie's lips. Folding his hands over his lap, Robbie's in the beginning stages of formulating an excuse for his behaviour when Tori stops in his tracks. A raised eyebrow, that's all it takes for the truth to come spiralling out of Robbie.
"N-no. Just nervous. Do you mind – is there, is there room at our table for my friend?" He says, stumbling all over his words.
Tori giggles at that, shaking her head. "You know there is." She states, lips askew with a crooked smile.
The rest of class flits by with surprising ease. Robbie falls into a conversation with Tori that's only partially relevant to their classwork. Once in a while, Tori's hand jumps from their desk, half-heartedly slugging Robbie on the shoulder when she disagrees with him. Under the fluorescent lights, his cheeks stain an incredibly unflattering shade of puce. From the way she smirks down at her notes every time, Robbie feels quite sure that Tori is aware of his radioactive pigmentation. She doesn't mention it though, and frankly Robbie couldn't be happier. It takes a full ten minutes after Tori has taken off to her next class for Robbie's complexion to return to its usual shade.
Being that they're in the same English class just before lunch, Robbie doesn't have to search for Beck. On one hand it's a relief. On the other hand Robbie feels aggrieved that he's been robbed of a reason to put this whole union off. Beck falls into stride with Robbie easily enough after class, predictably unphased when Robbie mentions they'll have company. As they approach the quad, Robbie just wishes everyone were as laid back as Beck. Maybe then his heart wouldn't be convulsing so violently with every step.
There they are – seated around the table Beck had led Robbie to on the first day of school are Tori, Andre and Jade. Screwing his eyes shut, Robbie throws one foot ahead of another, propelling himself forward before he loses his nerve.
"This is – hey guys, it's Beck!" Robbie exclaims with what is probably more volume than necessary. Looking back, he sees Beck raising a hand in muted greeting. Even accounting for Tori's typically enthusiastic greeting, the air is thick with tension.
"Oliver." Jade states disdainfully, eyes narrowed to deadly slits.
Sensing an oncoming war Robbie edges forward, lips parting to make way for words of peace. The first vowel is just coming off his tongue when Tori springs from her seat. Casting a weary glance in Jade's direction, the girl drags Robbie down onto empty space beside her.
"Not a good idea. Never interrupt Jade." Tori whispers, tone foreboding.
Peering back over his shoulder at the harsh sound of Jade addressing Beck again, Robbie feels a surge of gratitude toward the girl clutching his forearm. Swallowing thickly, he also realizes just how close Tori is hovering. He can feel the warmth of her breath lapping against his rapidly brightening skin. The realization of their proximity seemingly hits Tori just as hard. Clearing her throat, she abruptly lurches backward, readjusting herself into a more neutral position. Robbie's lips flicker again, but ultimately he decides against mentioning the slight tinge of pink that's risen on Tori's cheeks.
"T-thanks for – for that." Robbie coughs up, startled mid sentence by another curse word emanating from Jade's direction.
"It's fine, and yeah, you get used to that." Tori says blithely, swinging her thumb in Jade's direction. Along with her composure, Tori's skin has returned to its bronze hue. It's totally cliché and more than a little pathetic, but Robbie feels his heart stutter to a brief halt when Tori turns her smile on him. When it stutters back to life, that fluttering in his chest, Robbie thinks it might be getting worse.
Another chapter done! :D So, you know, leave us authors some love in the little review box and whatnot(;