Disclaimer: All Fairly Oddparents property belongs to Nickelodeon I also don't own anything by Victor Hugo, those credits go to him.
Tootie
I personally like the Freshman, they are all so full of wonder and excitement, the looks on their faces tells just how excited they are to be turning a page in the book of life. I remember my freshman year, or at least the first day anyway I was so full of hope, finally I felt like I was going somewhere in my life, that I was actually moving forward and not just casually drifting. I didn't realize until Sophomore Year that I had traded one tide for another, that high school was just as monotonous as the rest of my life had been. Which is why that while I like the Freshman and how they look at this new chapter in their lives I can't help but to pity them at the same time, after all they have yet to learn just how unchanged their new lives as high schoolers will be.
I'm running late to English, but thankfully my good grades and perfect attendance allow such things to happen without too much of a commotion, as long as I have a note. I give it to the teacher and sit in my front row seat; the teacher accepts with debate and proceeds to tell us about the project. When he gets to my name I cross my fingers and think not Timmy, please not Timmy. So when I'm paired with Charles I'm relieved, I was paired with Timmy last year for a math project where we had to plan a trip with limited funds. Does anybody know just how hard it is to make a decent, cohesive project when you've made a vow to never speak to said person, thankfully it was only for two weeks and I got the foul taste of Timmy's presence out of my mouth relatively easily.
Charles is a good enough guy, he's skinny, a redhead but really quiet the only person I ever really see him talk to is his girlfriend that he's had for 4 years. This is as I understand it forever in teenage years. I sit next to him and smile kindly.
"Hi" I say he looks at me from the corner of his eye but doesn't respond he does although show me a piece of paper that has on it a name "Victor Hugo" is written an underlined, twice. He must be serious about him. I smile at him and say "I'll cover Les Misérables if you'll cover The Hunchback of Notre Dame" He smiles at me nods and proceeds to write what I assume is a nice sized paragraph. I watch him for a while before starting my own project. It's been a while since I've read the 1000 and something page book so the details are a little vague, I can remember the drama that occurs with Fantine and Inspector Javert I can remember Cosette and Marius and the French Rebellion, I can even remember that every character had a long extensive background, almost like Hugo wanted everyone to read this book and make sure they connected with at least one of the many people in it. The bell rings all too early and I stare at my list before resigning and heading to my next class, History.
I remember what Timmy said one morning in Sophomore Year. He was between girlfriends at the time and as always alternating between flirting with me and spouting off nonsense, both are equally annoying but it was during the spouting part that he actually said something that stuck with me.
"I don't understand why we have to learn History" he started "all it is, is one stupid mistake happening after another, and I understand what people say that we have to learn from the mistakes but we haven't. Every time there's a war we set up the next one. World War I, set up World War II, which set up the Cold War and so on and so forth. It's all just a waste of time, I don't understand why we still bother" Then Christy came in and shooed him away with a look.
But ever since then I can't help but to think of the class as a constant waste of time, and plus the repetition annoys me. We learn the same History every year, nothing has changed America will always win the Revolution, and the world will always collapse into chaos every time an Archduke is assassinated or Germany tries something stupid. It never changes, although I will always find myself in this exact position. Front row, paying rapt attention as my teacher starts talking to us about the journey to the new world. He's getting to the part where Colombus begs Spain to fund his travels to what he thinks will be India when a paper airplane lands neatly on my desk. I unfold it and read "Roses are red, your eyes are violet when it comes to my heart, you're the pilot" I can't help the slight blush and giggle I get. Sure it's incredibly corny but it's also something new, unexpected, and nice. I look around, my first guess is Timmy, the thought alone makes me shiver and not the good way. But when I look his way he's asleep which is typical of him. Nobody else looks suspicious so I guess my curiosity will have to be sated at another time. Right then the bell rings, and I am ready to leave.
In the halls is where Christy finds me getting ready for Math with my hand clamped firmly around the note. She immediately rips the note out of my hand and giggles at my hysterics. After she reads the note she gives me a smirk that tells me everything she wants to say, a smirk so dirty it makes me want to wash out my eyes, with ammonia. I give her my best glare until her smirk subsides and then without a word I take her wrist and drag her to Math, mainly because I know she'll skip if I don't.
A/N: Here's the next chapter, I figured all of my readers deserved a sooner response; after all I do usually take a while. Don't forget to press those three special buttons Like, Favorite, and Review. These things are food for the soul :)