John giggled at his lock. For some god damn reason, he was getting it wrong. This was now the fifth attempt, only to have failure come bash him in the face with a frying pan. He frantically spun in the combo, aggressively yanking at it like it was a disobedient cow that needed to be herded. He was out of ideas. John had five minutes to be in class, and science was in wing A, and John was lucky to be in wing D. Now he began to try different combos. They all said, "You're so funny John, we are laughing at you!". Two minutes. The seconds were counting down.
"Can you hear us, John? HAHAHAHAHA!"
"Need help?" Came a deep voice from over his shoulder. John could almost feel the breath on his neck. John shivered. John decided this was most likely not Sherlock's intentions, for he was a friend trying to be friendly.
"Yes," John exhaled, taking a side step from his locker door. Sherlock seemed to smirk from the beneath the shadow of his mop of hair.
"Combo?" He asked almost inaudibly. John hesitated.
"7, 33, 13," John mumbled. Sherlock began to spin the dial. John had only know Sherlock for a day, he hadn't even hung out with him for more than 5 hours, but for some naive reason, he trusted Sherlock. Despite all the things people say about him, Sherlock isn't playing up to what all the rumours are suggesting.
Clickety-click, the lock opened and Sherlock placed it in John's hand.
"You have science next," Sherlock said. John nodded, kind of surprised he knew. "I do too. You're lucky Mr. Gaius doesn't necessarily care if you are on time or not. Just grab a notebook and a pen."
They popped into science just as Mr. Gaius had begun to take attendance. They slipped into the two empty desks in the back of the classroom. Suddenly, the feeling of being watched came over John. He scanned the classroom, but saw no one. Suddenly, he realized where the stare was coming from. He didn't want to turn. His body began to redirect itself. John tried to stop.
Too late.
"Hey John," he whispered. John swallowed hard. He smiled in a friendly manner and whispered back, "hi Jim."
Sherlock's head whipped around.
"John, don't talk to him," Sherlock said. John turned to Sherlock, his eyebrows knit.
"Why?"
"Yes, Sherlock, why so? Are you jealous?" Jim said in a suspiciously taunting voice.
"Jim Moriarty is not what you would call a "friend"," Sherlock said, ignoring Jim's comment. John continued to stay confused.
"Oh, come now, Sherlock, we play games all the time!" Jim said. John's thoughts wavered from his relations with Jim and Sherlock's relations with Jim.
"You force me to do it. It's unfair," Sherlock mumbled.
"But I know you love it because you keep playing," Jim said with a sly grin. Sherlock grimaced.
"If you don't know already," Jim said, turning back to John. "Sherlock and I are very intimate friends."
"You are a sick, twisted, revolting, little scum from-"
"I try," Jim said, pretending to file his nails.
John sat there between two psychopaths. One claims to have a relationship with the other while the other denies every word of it. John was utterly confused and quite scared. Neither were about to be sympathetic to the poor boy sitting between them, but instead completely ignoring him and continuing to banter back and forth. They both were getting out of their seats, ready to pounce on each other.
"Bilbo Baggins." John heard his name being called and took the opportunity to say "HERE!" as loud as he could. Jim and Sherlock sat back in their seats. Mr. Gaius eyed them all with an exaggeratedly raised eyebrow. Sherlock, John, and Jim stared back at him. Mr. Gaius pursed his lips, then went back to the attendance sheet.
-:-:-:-
As they began to find partners for a lab, John felt awkward. He thought he was going to be able to turn to Sherlock as his lab partner, but Sherlock was gone out of his seat as soon as the teacher was done the explanation. He sank into his seat as less and less people sat around the desks. John was tapped on the shoulder.
"John, the class has an uneven number of students, so we can be a group of three," Sherlock said. John smiled up at him then.
"Who is the third?" John asked.
"You are," Sherlock said. "This is Molly." Sherlock swung a girl by the hand around to face them. She blushed cherry red. John swore he heard her say "oh my" under her breath.
"Hello Molly, I'm John," John said, holding out his hand to shake. She looked at it for a second, then shook.
"Hello, John," she said in a hushed tone. She didn't make eye contact and her ginger hair fell over her face. As she let go of John's hand, she quickly retracted the one from Sherlock's as well, pulling them behind her back.
The three stood their, waiting for the other to speak. John knew right then that they must be the most awkward people in the whole school.
Throughout the lab, Molly took charge. She set up all the equipment and executed most of the important steps. Sherlock, to John's surprise, did whatever she said. John felt like a third wheel. He didn't know much about science and wasn't so interested in all the chemistry stuff. He felt like he was just sitting and watching Molly and Sherlock be smart.
Time passed slowly as he watched them, handing them things once and a while. Mr. Gaius would walk by and John would pretend to be doing something to help. He just felt so useless. There was really noting he could do to help. He watched Molly drop a substance into a beaker held over a Bunsen burner as Sherlock bent down to watched at eye level. Sherlock raised a hand. Molly put down the eye dropper and scribbled something on a note pad. Sherlock took some kind of rod and began to gently stir the mixture. John looked at the stick swishing.
"I could do that," John said. Unfortunately, it came out like a snarky challenge. Sherlock and Molly suddenly stopped and stared at John. "That is, if you want some help."
Silence hung between the three. Sherlock looked to Molly. She stared intently at Sherlock, then Sherlock nodded and turned back to John.
"No," he said, and continued to stir. John's stomach sunk like a leaky submarine.
For the following class, John sat alone. It wasn't until lunch when he came to his locker to find Sherlock all ready there all by him self. John plunked himself down beside him. He looked up and down the hall, observing the passing students. Then something strange caught his eye. At the end of the hall, there was caution tape from wall to wall.
"Sherlock," John said, nudging him with his elbow, "what's happening over there?"
Sherlock looked up and followed John's finger down the hallway.
"It was going to be an expansion of the school because of the expected growth, but the school board ran out of money to finish the project, plus there wasn't any extra students, so now it is sitting there idly. Waste of space if you ask me," Sherlock explained. John shrugged and continued to eat.
"Have any rebels try and go in there?" John asked with a chuckle. Sherlock smirked back, sharing a knowing glance with John, and replied, "yes."
"You're terrible!" John exclaimed, elbowing Sherlock's side. Sherlock laughed and nudged him back.
"Well, well. If it isn't the two outcasts," sneered a voice that made Sherlock go ridged.
"It's better than hanging around you three, Philip," Sherlock retorted.
"No offence Jeff," John added. Jeff nodded with a shrug.
"I wouldn't be talking, fairy," Sally snarled. John shivered. He gulped. He twitched.
"Shut up you whore!" Sherlock yelled. "Everyone knows it's true. Anyway, no one asked for your opinion." Sally stood there stunned just as her eyes began to redden. There was a twitch. She turned away as Sherlock coldly stared at her. Philip put his hand on her shoulder. Sally continued to look away, a sharp inhale following. John watched, a small prang of guilt in his stomach. Sherlock continued to stare her down, eyes narrowing to sharp angles, as Sally's breaths became very audible. Greg looked to Sally, then to Sherlock. He kept switching back and forth before staring at Sherlock, mouth starting to open, as if to ask why. Sherlock did not move or change in the emotion he projected.
"Greg-" John said, but his voice faltered as the three began to walk away, Sally rubbing her eyes with her sleeve. Sherlock made sure they were gone before he turned back to John.
"Sherlock," was all John could muster up. He didn't know if he should thank him, or tell him how awful that was.
"I'm sorry, but it was for our own good," Sherlock said in one tone.
"Our own good? Sherlock, what about there own good? They may be rotten people, but you can't just tell them off like that. They brought you down to their level," John said.
"That's ok, I'm already "lower" than them anyway. It doesn't really matter how other perceive me. I don't have any friends to hold on to," Sherlock said coldly. John felt as if he had been shot. He leaned back against the locker, making sure he didn't meet Sherlock's eyes.
Sherlock noticed to look on his face, then quickly said, "Oh, John. I'm-"
"Don't waste your breath on irrelevant people," John muttered. Sherlock looked as if he had gasped, but no such sound was made. They both ate in silence until the bell rang.
-:-:-:-
The last two classes passed boringly. As John went back to his locker, he remembered he was going over to Sherlock's house after school. He gritted his teeth. He wasn't happy with Sherlock. His lunch time quarrel was childish and stupid. But he had to remember, he was going over for the book assignment. This had nothing to do with friendship or any other matter. Only for the love of school.
He met Sherlock at his locker. They silently collected their stuff. When John closed his lock, he leaned against the locker and looked blankly down the hall.
"Am I still coming over?" He asked, trying to sound like he didn't give a flying fig about it.
"Are you?" Sherlock questioned sternly, pulling his backpack over his shoulder.
"Yes," John replied as he push himself off of his locker and started forward. Sherlock trotted after him, catching up to walk beside him.
"You don't know where you are going," Sherlock stated.
"Did you already forget that you gave me your address on the sticky note? I know where I'm going," John retorted. Sherlock made some grunting noise. John pushed open the front doors to the school, not bothering to hold the doors for his acquaintance. A cool chill hit John in the cheeks as they stepped out onto the cold, slushy streets.