John continued to chat with Greg and Philip until the first bell rang. By then, Mrs. Hudson had arrived and began to take attendance. John learnt that Sherlock's last name was Holmes. Now isn't that strange. His parents must have done it on purpose.
"hello, my students. My name is Mrs. Hudson. I can't wait to meet you all!" the teacher said after putting down the attendance sheet. "today, we are just going to get to know one another. Let me just number you all off..." At that, everyone gave an exasperated sigh.
"I remember when I was young and chipper like the lot of you. I loved these get to know you games!" Mrs. Hudson told the class. John was numbered a 3 and was told to go to the front left corner of the classroom. There he saw no one he knew. So far, there were only 3 others in the group. John faintly smiled at them all and then turn to face the middle of the class.
Then, he saw Sherlock begin to walk over to his group.
"is this group 3," Sherlock asked, sounding bored as all hell. John nodded silently. Sherlock stood at the edge of the group, away from the people. John decided to get acquainted with the rest of his group, seeing as no one else would start. So he extended his hand and said,"Hi, my name is John."
Through out all the games, Sherlock never partook. Mrs. Hudson decided to drop by and see how we were doing.
"has everyone here tossed the ball to someone they don't already know?" sh said, looking around the circle group 3 had made, then saw Sherlock sitting down at a near by table, his nose in a book.
"Sherlock, how many times must a teacher tell you that you must participate!" she told him. Sherlock looked up from his book, a stern look directed to his superior teacher.
"I am participating. I'm listening. Is it not the purpose of this game? To HEAR what your classmates names are?" Sherlock questioned. Mrs. Hudson shook her head as nicely as possible.
"the purpose of this game is to make some friends," mrs. Hudson said, patting his shoulder. Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Now, please, stand with the group. It's the least you could do."
Sherlock did as he was told. Went the ball was tossed to him, he did what they were supposed to do, say your name, favorite color, and wish for this year.
"my name is Sherlock, my favorite color is - wait, why is this even relevant to getting to know me? Wouldn't a better question be something like "what is your favorite fatal virus and what you thing the best way to cure it is?" or-"
"Sherlock!" mrs. Hudson scolded. Sherlock slouched his shoulders.
"my favorite color is eggplant and my wish for the year is that I don't have to be stuck in a class of under-sensitized buffoons, once again - no offense," Sherlock said, then tossed it. "John." He caught the ball.
"my name is John, my favorite color is - uh - I don't really have one, and my wish for this year is..." John's voice faded away. His throat was closing up.
My wish for this year is to be accepted for being different.
"my wish for this year is to meet some new friends," John said, pulling together a smile to make it look convincing. "Mary." John passed the ball to the only person he remembered the name of.
They game continued until the bell rang for the next block to begin. John went through the winding halls to his next class, Drama, the class where you were supposed to be emotional and "let you feeling fly free like a butterfly". John had a very hard time with loosening up. He didn't want to really let all that out. He enjoyed it enough for him to be excited for next time, though, and at lunch, he managed to find Greg and Philip. They were sitting in the cafeteria. They actually waved him over.
"Hey John!" Greg called. John smiled and sat down with them.
"you like your classes, so far?" Philip asked. John nodded and took out his lunch money.
"hey, it's you!" said a some what familiar voice. John looked across the table, and their sat in front of him that girl. The girl who showed him the first steps into the school. The not-so-enthusiastic one.
"yeah, it's me," John said with a fainter smile.
"you know him?" Philip said, almost in a snarky way.
"yeah, this morning while I was doing that stupid volunteer job for extra credit, I helped this little guy through the hall," Sally said, reaching across the table to pat John's head. John was ready to just slap that bitch across the face, but reason restrained him, and he shook it off. John decided that was a good time to go get lunch. Today, they had a selection of sandwiches and some salad or soup for a side. John took the BLT and a small bowl of soup. When he sat back down with his new acquaintances, another sat down as well.
"well, well, WELL! Look who decided to join a social circle," Sally said, her tone so taunting, like she was pretending to show someone something, so she opens her hand - "but don't interact with us too much, Sherlock. You might get an allergic reaction." - then slaps you in the face. Philip laughed and gave Sally a high five. Sherlock, who had just sat down beside John, turned away from them all. Greg didn't look up from his door as Sally and Philip kept laughing at their sick joke.
It isn't even that funny, John thought. He couldn't see Sherlock's expression from beneath his mop of hair. Sherlock had sunken on the cafeteria bench, his face looking at his feet.
"give him a chance," Greg suddenly piped up. Sally and Philip went silent. They looked at each-other blankly, then they smiled and turned to Sherlock.
"ok then," Philip said, crossing his arms. "Do you have anything you wanted to say?"
For a moment, no one moved nor make a sound. They all looked to Sherlock, but he didn't respond. Then, he looked up, sat up straight and tall, stern gazes burning them all, and said, "I didn't."
Philip and Sally smiled smugly, seeing as they had obviously proven their point.
"but now, I do," Sherlock continued, surprising them all with the chippertone he produced. "My intention was to sit and eat lunch. For some reason, you thought I wanted to be "friends" with you. Now, let me ask YOU a question. Why would I want to be in a "social" circle with trash-talking idiots if I could go sit with a garbage can and have an exceedingly better conversation with it than I would ever have with you?"
There were no responses. John had the urge to nod exaggeratedly, so he did. Sherlock, smugly smiling, got up and left while the rest of them still had their jaws hanging on the floor. John leapt out of his seat with his lunch and followed behind swift Sherlock. He was moving so agilely around the kids in the corridors, John almost lost him. Twice.
As soon as he realized Sherlock was not slowing down, he started to call to him. Sherlock didn't even take a glance backwards.
"Sherlock, wait!" John tried again. Finally, Sherlock stopped in front of a row of lockers. Once John caught up to Sherlock, and caught up to his breath, he said, "that was - hah - a brilliant comeback."
"well," Sherlock said, beginning to fiddle with one of the locks. "You don't know how long I've been waiting to say that." John chuckled again, but then saw that Sherlock was not laughing whatsoever. John stopped abruptly. Sherlock opened a locker and John realized where they were. John opened his locker. A silence swept them both. He wanted to say something else, but couldn't think of anything witty to say to break the ice. As John ate bites of his lunch, he looked at his next block. It was PE.
"Hey," John said in an attempt to start a conversation. Sherlock looked up from his book at John. "I was just wondering if you knew what the protocol for PE attire is?" Sherlock flipped a page in his book. John blinked. Did Sherlock not hear him? Was there something he did wrong? John began to panic a little inside. He didn't want to make a bad first impression. Thoughts of all the possible ways he could have just screwed up and how he was to fix them raced around in his mind, like they were playing a jumbled game of tag, seeing which problem could be caught by which solution.
"I know," Sherlock suddenly said. "that it is the usual: runners, gym shorts and tee-shirt. What else would it be?"
John nodded then shrugged. " I don't know, could've been something I didn't know," he said honestly and innocently.
"it's common sense. The school board is in charge of the curriculum and they aply it to every school they control. Every average gym class, is there for, identical in expectation," Sherlock said, almost in a snappy way. John decided to shut up. He continued to eat and look over his schedule. After PE was English, one of his least favorite classes.
The bell rang and John went to PE class. When he got there, everyone had all ready changed. He didnt see any of his new friends there. Well, John had to rethink his friend situation. Anyway, John went to the locker room where he changed and shoved his stuff in one of the gym lockers. As on of their warm ups, they ran twice around the perimeter of the school on a timed run. John wanted to make a good first impression on the gym teacher, so he really tried to give it his all. As he ran, there was one guy who always kept passing him. No matter how many times John caught up to him, he just ran a little bit faster, just enough to piss John of, because John couldn't run that bit faster. Soon, they were separated from the pack. They were much further ahead than the rest of the class. As they completed their first lap, John began to really hate seeing the back of this thin boys head. He couldn't understand how such an average sized guy - mind you, he wasn't even that muscular - was so nimble and could just keep going like that. It made John want to run faster. So he did.
Now the end neared. You could see the finish, only half a block away. John began to take a shot at it and he bolted. The other boy, though, anticipated this, and bolted as well. They sprinted, neck in neck, until there was just a few meters left, and the boy gave it even a little bit more, passing John, and crossing the finish first. John came in second, panting like a dog.
Then, a water bottle was shoved to his face.
"here," said the boy, heavily panting as well. John accepted it and took a big swig. He handed it back, replying, "thanks."
The boy smiled and took a sip himself. They both were belt over, hearts pulsing loud as drum beats.
"you're new, aren't you?" asked the boy.
"yes," John simply replied. They huffed there in silence for a few seconds before they began to see other boys coming across the finish line.
"my name is Jim," said the boy with a smile, extending his hand out to John.
John shook his hand and smiled back. "I'm John."
"well, John, I am very impressed that you put up such a fight. Don't beat yourself up too much about it, though. No one ever beats me," Jim said. They laughed between breaths.
"do you run outside of school, I mean, in competitions and stuff?" John asked.
"no," Jim said, not looking away from John's gaze. It really made John anxious, that stare. Jim's stare made John feel like he was burning holes into his soul with his jet black eyes.
Gym seemed to go really quickly. John always had an enjoyable time in Physical Education. The bell had startled John when it sounded. When John was changing, he felt like he was being watch, which was unusual. Despite all of john's emotional insecurities, he never had a problem in the change rooms. John looked up from putting on his pants to see if he could spot the source. Looking around the room, he met the dark eyes of Jim, who casually looked away as they made contact. The discovery made John slow down. His heart skipped a beat, but he couldnt tell if that was a good thing or not. Both flattery and fear washed over him. John quickly put on his shirt.