Disclaimer: *wakes up, pats face* Nope, I'm still me. That means I'm broke, hungry, and own nothing except the situations I put these poor characters in. I write for fun, not for profit.
A/N: So I rewatched this movie the other day after work and my first thought was, wow I need a life. I couldn't even really remember this movie that well but all of the sudden I was being attacked by vicious ideas. So anyway let me know what you think. You don't have to review (obviously) but I love suggestions and this is one of those places where people actively ask for stranger's opinions.
Warnings: bullying, some cursing here and there (these are teenagers after all), and eventual slash (if you don't like, don't read-it's just that simple)
Maybe this wouldn't be such a good day after all he saw them poke each other and snicker
Snow came down from the sky in flurries of white. It gathered on the ground in layers. Jamie wondered if it was as soft as it looked and marveled at how quiet the world was when blanketed in white. He heard a shriek of laughter behind him and turned around to watch his sister disappear into the snow as she was tackled by their dog. He was worried briefly (after all, their dog was twice as big as Sophie!) but she popped up a few seconds later with her hair covered in snow.
She grinned. "Snowball fight!" She threw a poorly formed fistful of snow at his face. "Sneak attack!"
Jamie was stunned only for a moment before he ducked behind a convenient snowbank. "Oh, it is on now!" His little sister had the nerve to stick her tongue out at him and then look surprised when she got a face full of snow.
After a few minutes of all out war, Jamie bent behind his "fort" to restock his weapons arsenal. He was just finishing when he felt a snowball hit the back of his head and dripped freezing slush down the back of his jacket.
"Sophie!" he whined.
"What?" She said, innocently.
"What was that for? It was supposed to be a ceasefire you little…" Jamie looked around. "Hey wait, where did you go?"
"Over here!" She peeked her face over the top of her pitiful snowfort.
"Wait a second how did you get over there so fast?"
She frowned. "What are you talking about, silly?"
Jamie swiveled around and scanned the trees behind him. He was about to dismiss the whole thing when he heard a very familiar laugh coming from the street.
A figure was sitting on top of the lamppost. Jamie stared, a name forming on his lips…
"Jamie? Are you up? Please don't tell me you slept through your alarm again." Jamie's mother pursed her lips and checked her watch. She expected the stony silence through the door whether Jamie was asleep or awake, so she knocked twice before pushing open the door. She strode towards the windows and threw open the blinds so that the weak winter sunlight streamed into the dark room.
She let out an exaggerated motherly sigh when she saw the state of Jamie's room. She walked around picking up stray bits of trash and shoving stray books and papers back on to his desk. Now it was time to address the lump of blankets that her teenage son had nested himself in. The top of his head was showing and dark strands of hair poked out of the blankets. She walked over and shook his shoulder.
"Jamie. Come on, you can't be late for school again. You can't afford to miss any more days moping in your room, blasting music that makes the dog hide under the couch cushions and lowers the morale of the whole neighborhood."
Jamie did snort at this, a sound that was muffled by his impressive pile of blankets. His mother did tend to stretch the truth, although it was all too close to his plans for the day.
At the sound, his mother nodded. "So you are awake. Good! Then you should have no problem getting ready in the next ten minutes. Remember to dress warm and to try to stay out of trouble, please?"
Stay out of trouble. As if. Trouble always finds me no matter how many days I skip. And trouble has a name.
After waiting (rather pointlessly) for her son to respond, Mrs. Bennett exited the room, shutting the door gently behind her.
Jamie waited a minute or two before sitting up with a groan and running a hand through his hair. He pulled on jeans and grabbed a black t-shirt off the floor. He dug around for a few minutes on the floor until he pulled out his I-pod and shoved it in his front pocket. After sticking a toothbrush in his mouth he started shoving textbooks back into his backpack and pulled on shoes and a hoodie. Rinse, spit. Same old routine day after day.
He thumped down the stairs and waited by the front door. After a minute or two his sister barreled out of the kitchen and almost knocked him over. She may be little, but the extra energy she always had on reserve more than made up for it.
"Whoa, Sophie you know the door is harder than it looks right?"
She giggled. "I've been watching TV, James and I'll have you know that I am now a black belt in karate. Doors stand no chance in the face of my roundhouse kick!" She punctuated these last few words with a few kicks at Jamie's foot.
"Well, while that's all very impressive what will we do without a front door? What will protect us from neighbor snowball attacks?"
"Don't be ri-di-cu-lous," she huffed, "I would protect you, of course, with my karate skills."
"Of course. But what will I do when you turn into a popsicle?"
She thought for a second and then frowned. "I would bring lots of hats and mittens to keep me warm." She said this indignantly, as if Jamie had somehow insulted her intelligence. She held something out to her brother, the perceived insult easily forgotten. "I made you a poptart. Strawberry flavor."
"Nothing too fancy. I like it." He gave her a small smile and plucked it out of her hand. "Want half?"
She jumped up and down. "Yes, please."
After walking Sophie to the elementary school, Jamie trudged the rest of the way to the high school. As the brick and cement building came into view, Jamie pulled out his headphones and stuck them into his ears. Shoving his hands into his jean pockets he walked through the front doors, up the stairs, and down the halls until he reached his first period class. English. He scowled when he saw that his regular seat in the back corner by the bookshelf was taken, and moved to his backup seat by the window. From here he could see over the football field, lumps of unmelted snow creating a patchwork of brown and white.
At least he could experience a change of scenery from this spot.
Jamie rested his head on the heel of his hand and picked at the flaking corner of the desk while he waited for class to start. The rest of the class was sitting on desks and walking around the room chatting and teasing each other. No one noticed his arrival.
It was a good day so far. Maybe he would be able to listen to his mother for once and stay out of trouble.
The bell rang and everyone scuffled around each other to find their respective desks and sit down as the teacher strode through the door, coffee in one hand, thick book in the other. He motioned for the class to sit down before taking a seat in the desk chair up front. After waiting for the announcements to conclude, he cleared his throat.
"Good morning, everyone. I hope you had a good weekend…"
Jamie stopped paying attention at that point and his mind drifted away. He looked out at the football field and prepared himself for a mind numbing day of school. He supposed it was better than the alternative. Days filled with drama never ended well for him. He was easy to blame considering his "history."
Inwardly, he scoffed at the thought. What a joke.
Meanwhile, the teacher had finished the mindless pleasantries and instructed the class to take out their textbooks. He reached behind him and picked up a stack of paperbacks and handed them to the person in front of him.
"Alright everyone, so this week we will…"
Once again Jamie's mind drifted. He was disinterested and tired. Besides, he talks way too much anyway…
Suddenly, the door opened with a bang and a blast of freezing cold air, jerking Jamie out his disjointed thoughts. He looked up, annoyed at whoever had interrupted his daydreaming. And stared.
Standing in the doorway was one of the most beautiful people he had ever seen. A boy that looked to be about seventeen or eighteen, he was panting and flushed. He must have run the whole way here and Jamie couldn't help but smirk.
The boy had on jeans and a light blue hoodie. The clothes were unremarkable and normally Jamie would have long dismissed this interruption had it not been for his messy snow-white hair. There was something oddly familiar about that hair and Jamie couldn't do anything but stare and ask himself just where this boy had come from.
He couldn't help but wonder how many teenage boys had hair like that anyways. In such a small town it was hard to believe that he had never seen this boy before.
Jamie watched as the stranger's eyes scanned the room before suddenly landing on him. For a second, Jamie panicked, knowing that he had been caught staring. Instead of immediately looking down, the stranger refused to break eye contact. Was it his imagination or was there some sort of unusual intensity in that stare? After a few seconds, the white-haired boy broke the eye contact and Jamie looked down, cheeks heating slightly.
Maybe he was catching something. Jamie felt hot all over like he had a fever. Despite this, the teenager shivered and wished he had listened to his mother. He could swear the temperature had dropped ten or twenty degrees.
The teacher cleared his throat. "Ah, you must be the new student. Jeff? John?"
"Name's Jack." He stuck out his hand and grinned.
Way too cheerful. This guy's going to get eaten alive. Jamie couldn't stop the small twisted smile from making its way on to his face.
Jack. As if this wasn't bad enough. Like that name didn't bring unpleasant memories rushing back and a bitter taste in the back of his throat. He had never been one of those people who thought the world was "out to get him" but this proved it. The universe had a rather personal vendetta against a one Mr. Jamie Bennett. The teacher shook the new boy's hand, looking bemused. "Alright well if you'll take a seat…" He gestured to an empty desk close to the door.
"Sure." With another ridiculous smile he sat on top of the desk, cross-legged.
Always smiling.
"In the chair, if you please."
The stranger (Jack, he supposed) took a seat and Jamie couldn't help but study him out of the corner of his eye, with the pretense of staring off into space.
He really did have some sort of ethereal beauty. With the white hair and unusually pale skin he could have been some sort of winter prince. After a minute or two of this, Jamie had worked up the courage to stare directly at the teenager. Of course, this was the the exact time he decided to glance in his direction and once again, their eyes met.
This time it was less intense and it lasted only for a second before the white haired boy grinned again and broke the eye contact. Jamie didn't smile back. He couldn't help it; something about this boy kept drawing him in like some sort of fucked up magnet, irritating and enthralling him simultaneously. He looked like he didn't have a care in the world. Who had the right to be that cheerful in the face of a roomful of angry, apathetic teenagers?
He also couldn't help the fact that his heart did something funny at the sight of that stupid grin. That was purely coincidental, of course. He really should go to the doctor.
A book landed on the floor beside his desk, startling him out of his brooding. He really couldn't catch a break today. He reached down to pick up the book, ignoring the snickers and whispers he heard behind him. When he flipped the book over and read the title his stomach dropped.
Shit. Why today of all days?
He glanced around the classroom quickly and noticed all the smirks and whispers. People elbowing each other and nodding in his direction, giggling behind their hands. The not so subtle pointing. Inwardly he sighed and almost walked out. But no, that would be too dramatic, too much to deal with later, so he did what he did best and ignored the rising tide of hilarity.
The teacher finally took notice of what was going on and asked irately, "Does anyone want to tell me just what's so funny?"
A boy in the back of the room (his name started with an "L"-possibly) snorted and said, "Well we just thought we'd let you know since we're doing a unit on," Here he looked down and read from the cover," 'The history of fairytales in literature' and all, that we have an expert in the room!" He swept an arm in a grand motion to the amusement of the class. "Jamie here can tell us all about that. In fact, he has first hand experience, don't you James?"
Another voice called out, "Better yet, call the loony bin where he spends his weekends and ask his therapist. I'll bet she can give us a lot of useful information on fairytales."
Yet another voice rasped, "Don't bother. I heard she killed herself and blamed him in the note." The last few words were said in a stage whisper. "Said she simply couldn't take it anymore."
Jamie refused to acknowledge what was happening and instead stared at his desk in silence, willing the attention somewhere else. He didn't want to show everyone how much this still dug at him, the fact that he had spent years trying to convince people he had fought in a magical battle.
While Jamie was staring at his desk, he didn't notice Jack's face which was frozen in a look of horror, his knuckles whitening around the edge of the desk.
Another boy with short blond hair stood up and mimed fighting with a sword. "'Twas a great battle, the battle against the mighty Pitch Black! But there was one problem: though he may have won the battle with his imaginary friends he lost something much more important… his sanity!" The boy cackled.
"Yeah Jamie, tell us all about your friends, Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny."
Someone muttered, "As if. Even his imaginary friends can't stand him."
"Don't forget the tooth fairy!" Shrieked in between gasps of laughter. A girl this time.
"Oh yeah," the boy smirked, "Where is the Tooth Fairy now? Is she your imaginary girlfriend?" Just as he finished the taunting question, his legs shot out from under him and he slipped, falling onto his back. Below his feet, the floor glinted oddly in the light.
Jamie didn't question the sudden slip. He was just glad to have the attention diverted off of him and on to something else before he did something dangerous like punched someone. Or cried. He was so relieved, in fact, that he didn't notice the new boy's eyes fixed murderously at the fallen student with an odd sort of twinkle in his eye. The teacher rushed over and helped the student off the ground. Apparently he had fallen so hard, that he bit his tongue and blood trickled down his chin. Jamie watched, rather morbidly, as the blood dripped on to the speckled linoleum floor and as the boy sneered at whoever dared to laugh, gingerly picking himself up off the ground.
There was a few moments of silence before the teacher cleared his throat and gestured towards the door. "Anderson, go and get yourself cleaned up." After the blond left to go to the nurse, the teacher cleared his throat.
"Alright, alright settle down people. I won't stand for any more of this nonsense in my classroom. Everyone is to be quiet for the rest of the period. We will have a discussion next class so be sure to read the first three chapters read by tomorrow. For the rest of the class we will have silent reading." He glared at everyone for good measure.
Great. Where the fuck was that two minutes ago? Even the teachers think I'm crazy.
Jamie silently picked up his book and opened to the first page, pretending to read. In reality he sat and ignored the anger smoldering in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't get into anymore fights. He was already risking expulsion as it was. He ignored the prickling feeling that someone was watching him with an intense gaze, gauging his reaction, with way too much concern.
He kept his face impassive and for the rest of the class focused on the same paragraph, reading it over and over again.
He didn't look up once.
A/N: Thoughts?