Chapter 2

Spock soon discovered that Jim Kirk was in almost every one of his classes. His irritation only seemed to grow as his concentration was broken, on more than one occasion, by Jim's drawl that often seemed responsible for disruptions in class. The only lesson, in fact, that the boys didn't share was Linguistics and Spock had found a strange sense of relief upon walking into a class where he wouldn't be disturbed by Kirk.

The first Linguistics lesson he had was at the end of his first day. Even coupled with the nuisance that was Jim Kirk, Spock had managed to find intellectual value and stimulation from his classes and considered his new school to be surprisingly beneficial.

As he sat down in his Linguistics class at a desk towards the back left corner of the room, as was becoming customary for him, he noted that there were much fewer students in attendance of this class in comparison to the lessons he had had previously. The teacher explained to them that in the first few weeks of term the class would be spent studying Romulan dialects. They then focussed on the conjugation of verbs in the Romulan language, a subject that Spock had not previously studied in but was finding agreeable to learn.

"Hi," a voice from Spock's right called. He turned to face the person as he assumed they were addressing him. A girl with bronzed skin and a tight, sleek ponytail smiled warmly at him as she leaned over her desk. Spock assessed that she was well proportioned aesthetically and her face held a certain human beauty about it in the warmth of her open, friendly smile. She continued talking in a hushed voice once she saw that she had obtained his attention. "My name is Nyota Uhura. You're new, aren't you? I heard that we had a transfer student in from Vulcan."

"Affirmative," Spock said quietly, unsure of why this human was engaging him in conversation in the middle of the lesson.

"I studied Vulcan for two years, but I've never really been able to put it into practice. I would love if I could talk to you a bit and improve my accent. We have free time until dinner. If it's okay, I'd love to pick your brain. "

Spock pondered the human turn of phrase and internally winced over the contractions she had so casually used. However, she seemed to have a pleasant nature and Spock had to admit that he would not be averse to speaking in his native tongue once again. He nodded slightly and murmured,

"I would be willing to assist you after this lesson." She beamed at him and reseated herself firmly in her chair, where she spent the rest of the lesson in a state of total concentration on the conjugation of various Romulan verbs.

After the class concluded, Spock accompanied Nyota to a somewhat secluded location within the school grounds, where they sat under a large maple tree situated near the dormitory building.

"I like to come here to study," she explained, "It's peaceful, really nice. Sometimes it just gets too loud in there," she jerked her head toward the dorms.

"I concur," Spock agreed, as he too found the noise level within the dormitory wing intolerable at times. Although having his own room did provide a comfort that he presumed most weren't privileged with.

Spock soon discovered Nyota was very capable in the Vulcan language and had an affinity for the dialect that he had rarely seen outside native speakers. As they conversed beneath the tree, Spock also realised that he enjoyed the company of Nyota. She was an intelligent and confident person, who didn't treat Spock as most humans had previously, like an anomaly, but instead, as an equal. It was true she was fascinated by his Vulcan heritage but she didn't let that define him in her perception of him. They sat together for a long while, conversing in Vulcan about various subjects. Before long Spock noted the sunlight starting to fade and suggested that they walk to the cafeteria, where dinner would take place in a short while.

Spock, who had sat by himself the previous two days, now took up a place next to Nyota at the table where she sat with her friends. She made courteous introductions but otherwise, allowed Spock to be, without much conversation. Perhaps she had correctly deducted that he would be uncomfortable being the centre of attention amongst a group of humans.

The noise level in the cafeteria gradually rose as more students entered and took their seats. One table in particular could be heard above the rest and Spock did not need to look over to know the identity of the occupants. He had become accustomed to the loud, disruptive voice of Jim Kirk, that could usually be heard over all others. Spock's advanced Vulcan hearing was particularly sensitive to the tenor of Jim's voice and he could not pull his attention away from it, as it was akin to a fly buzzing at his ear. A rude, obnoxious fly. As a result of this, Spock heard clearly when the voice called, "Bet ya I could nail the new kid." Spock's eyebrows drew together slightly in an uncommon display of emotion, and as there were no other new additions to the student body that he knew of, he could only assume that he was the topic of the conversation. Instead of trying to tune out the group of raucous boys, Spock now focused on their voices more intently.

"What do you think you're doing, Jim?" a rough voice asked, "You're on a scholarship, remember?"

"Chill, Bones," Jim laughed back, "they won't throw out their prized student. I'm the smartest kid to pass through here in over a century. Or so my aptitude tests tell me."

"Yeah, and you never shut up about it," another voice called, sounding both annoyed and teasing.

"Oh, shut the fuck up Sulu. Now who's gonna take me up on my bet?"

"You're insane, man," called the surly voice, who Spock had come to recognise as Jim's often ignored voice of reason, Leonard McCoy.

"I'll take ye up on tha' bet. There's no way you'll get 'im for 'ere," A Scottish voice chimed in, joyously.

"You're on, Scotland!" Jim declared, and Spock could hear the laughter in his voice, even over the distance. He was still pondering what the bet could possibly entail when a large scoop of mashed potato hit him in the side of the head. The substance stuck to his face for a split second, before falling to the ground with an audible splattering sound. Spock turned his head slowly to look over at the table of friends in indignation. He saw Jim and the others practically doubled over in laughter, Jim holding a spoon between his fingers, which Spock suspected, had recently held mashed potato on it. McCoy looked grim and unimpressed and the boy James had referred to as 'Scotland' looked incredulous and as though he were suppressing laughter on principle.

Nyota looked from Spock's mashed potato smeared face to Jim, anger and disgust twisting her features. Her eyebrows were knit together and her lips pursed. She looked downright fierce, and slightly frightening. Only when she picked up a pudding cup that was full to the brim, did Spock realise her intentions.

"Nyota, please refrain, this matter does not warrant you earning a reprimand over. To knowingly inconvenience yourself would be illogical." She simply smiled at him and shrugged before bringing back her hand, loaded with the pudding cup, and threw it forward, releasing the missile as she did. The cup moved through the air in silence for the shortest amount of time before landing precisely where it was aimed; on the laughing face of James Kirk.

The expression that followed made the corners of Spock's mouth curl upward despite himself. Jim's expression was one of utter shock, his face and hair now dripping with the contents of the pudding cup. His friends around him appeared to be close to tears with laughter. Spock allowed himself a fleeting moment of satisfaction before he heard Nyota yell, "Duck!"
The call rang out across the hall and the table in front of Spock was suddenly on its side, the previous inhabitants of the chairs huddled behind it, as food began to fly.

It was all out war.

The food only stopped being flung across the room when the Vice Principal Thompson strode into the hall, one of the cafeteria staff trailing behind him. He looked furious. Food was set down by those who still had their arms in the air, ready to throw. Students began to emerge, ashen faced, from behind tables. One student even had to be extricated from where he had taken shelter behind the bins. Spock's eyes were inexplicably drawn straight to Kirk, who, although he was standing slightly off to the side, always seemed to be at the centre of things. Jim was covered from head to toe in food. His hair was flattened to his face by the pudding that Nyota had thrown and there were stains of what appeared to be the strawberry ice cream, pumpkin soup and broccoli bake that were being served for dinner that day.
As if he felt Spock's eyes upon him, James turned his head and met his gaze. One of the boy's cerulean eyes winked at Spock, his face plastered with a ridiculous grin. His demeanour seemed the epitome of relaxed, contradictory to the feeling of fear and nervousness that pervaded the room and the assortment of food groups that he was wearing.

No one knew who started the food fight. That is of course, except for Spock, Nyota, Jim and his friends. But it was evident that none of the company wished to come forward with that information. As a result, the hall was filled with a nervous silence following the demand to know who had incited the fight from the Vice Principal.

"Well, then," he said, his voice booming outward over the hanging heads of the students. Except for Jim's, of course. Jim looked like he was utterly bored by the whole proceeding and was absently picking bits of food from his blonde hair. "If no one will come forward," Professor Thompson continued, "I will be forced to punish all of you." He stopped talking and his eyes swept over the students expectantly. After a while of strained silence, he clucked his tongue disapprovingly and shook his head. "Very well. Seeing as you have decided to take the blame as a collective, you can all report to detention together tomorrow afternoon. Also, considering our usual detention room is much too small to house all of you, you will go to the gymnasium instead. Anyone who fails to attend will be issued a detention every day for the remainder of the semester. Do I make myself clear?"

A few students nodded their heads and murmured assent. McCoy glared accusingly at Jim, who was pointedly looking in the opposite direction and pretending not to notice his friend as he scooped pudding from his ear with a napkin.

The fifty or so students who were issued with the detention trudged out of the cafeteria a short while later. Most of them were headed straight toward the shower block to wash the food from their limbs and hair. Spock, who had taken shelter behind a table for the majority of the fight, was devoid of food, save for the mashed potato that Jim had lobbed at him. Instead of opting to take a shower like so many of his cohorts, Spock returned to his room where he cleaned himself off using the small wash bowl that he kept on his bedside table for his hands. It was in that moment he found himself wishing that he had never met James Kirk.