John's POV
With a mighty leap I hopped off the tattered and worn picnic bench that was propped against a metal railing. I had to make it to class and thanks to the impromptu visit from Mr Ashcroft, my inept guidance counsellor turned unofficial busybody, I knew detention would be on the cards as punishment for a tardy. That would only infuriate Papa Gilbert. His obvious disdain wasn't hidden at home; much to my displeasure. I could hear him now.
"Can't you do anything right, boy?"
If I wanted an ass-whooping I'd spit back with a smart-aleck remark to really rile the old bastard up. Sure sons are supposed to respect their fathers; love them too, I guess you get what you give and that old fool doesn't give me anything but endless lectures. I wish I could be more like Grayson, as much as I complain about his 'good Christian boy' act and his 'holier-than-thou' visage he's the only one that's been there for me throughout it all. Yeah we rag on each other but that's what brothers do.
Tearing down the vacant hall with desperate worry encroaching on to boyish features, I increased my speed; feet barely hitting the freshly buffed floor with every wide spanned stride. As I turned the corner pointedly I came face to face with a god damn hall monitor. Just my fucking luck!
"Well well, should you be in class, Gilbert?"
What kind of question was that? The blatant stupidity this guy gave off only piqued my wrath. I couldn't mollify the words as they escaped involuntarily.
"Where the fuck do you think I'm going?"
Punitive breaths pushed against my tense jaw, I was seething, at this joker and myself for snapping so easily. I had to remember to suck it up and play the role of the good local teen. Member of the congregation, Alter boy for Pastor Young, High school athlete and all round angel. I took a deliberate step back and willed my breathing to slow to its normal rate.
"I'm sorry man, I didn't mean to be such a jerk to you but I can't be any later. Can you let this slide?"
The ruse was working and my fraudulent apology appeared to be swaying this particular hall monitor into not reporting me to the principal. He didn't answer with words his nod said it all and I skated past him.
Isobel's POV
In reality, Mystic Falls High wasn't exceptionally huge, and I had no doubt that it wouldn't take me long to find my way around it. But the atmosphere today which, I'm sure, would normally have just been an air of laziness and reluctance to attend classes, had a noticeable edge to it, and didn't help my currently non-existent sense of direction. A cocktail of intrigue and question laced the heavy ambience my entrance seemed to create, and weaving through the dense crowds undetected, and with minimal attention directed towards my conscious form as I'd intended, proved more and more impossible by the minute, clusters of students that littered the halls parting like the Red Sea in my presence.
"How can I help?"
Behind the desk in the Administrations Office resided a bored looking lady, her pleasant greeting tainted by the lifeless, monotonous tones her words were spoken in, sapphire irises dulled an undesirable blue as they held no emotion but disinterest. The sound of conceited jocks, the cheerleaders' pretentious laughter as they shamelessly fawned over them, and senseless murmurs of unenthusiastic emos were muted by the glass door of the office, an awkward glance shifting between the flickering fluorescent light, and the assistant who never looked up from what she was doing. Although the brief silence was heavenly, I couldn't help but idly compare the current situation to that of a horror movie, the only noises being the sporadic clicking of a stapler, echoes of vigorously pressed hole punchers, and the disorganised shuffling of paper within this box of a dimly lit room, the lady's strangely labored breathing unsettling. Lost in mindless reverie, the bell's relentless chime snapped me out of my musing, a minute jump jolting my frame, and swiftly, I took my timetable, muttering a 'thank you' to the woman who only grunted in response.