A.N.: Summer. Vacation. Is. Amazing.
Anyway, due to my severe off-plot disease, I am now writing out the plot for every chapter before I write the chapter out so I don't waste needless words on things that don't really matter. Though I guess a little bit of filler chapter is nice every now and then.
With that out, onward~
Nostalgia hit Alex forty minutes into his first class. This was a school they were talking about. School. It reminded him of Brooklyn High, even though the classmates were different and some varied greatly in age. This was no more than a school in front, filled with students around his age, give or take a decade, most listening with their undivided attention, while others—reminded him of Tom-didn't.
His first class was math. Calculus. In his one short year of high school back in Brooklyn, he would be surprised if he could even get any of the questions correct.
"Mr. Winchester," The teacher said and Alex started, turning his attention to the teacher, "If we change the distance between A and B to twenty meters instead of ten, what will be the relative distance over speed from A to C?"
"I'm sorry," Alex replied honestly, "I wasn't listening."
The teacher, Mr. Fern, cleared his throat, clearly displeased but didn't voice his opinion out loud, "Well, this is only the first day but I would be expecting more from you in the future. If you need aid, please do ask."
"Yes sir," Alex replied.
"Mr. Remington," Mr. Fern turned toward Wolf, "Why don't you answer the question?"
"Uh," Wolf shifted in his seat, "Twelve point two five?"
"Good guess," The teacher replied humourlessly as he wrote something down on the chalk board—Alex knew it was chalk because of the solid thud it made with the boards-, "Wrong. While your brother might have the excuse of being blind, you don't."
"Yes sir," Wolf muttered.
Then the teacher continued as if nothing happened and the class resumed. Alex heard the scratching of pencils and pens on paper and knew that they were taking notes on whatever the teacher was writing on the board. The principal had told the teacher of his special needs, therefore Alex knew that the teacher would explain whatever he wrote down afterward for his sake.
He heard Wolf paused in writing and a moment later, the man nudged him, "How're you going to take notes?"
Alex gave the man his most precise glare, "I record."
Mrs. Jones had considered the point before the mission and Smithers, in turn, gave him a recorder. It was situated right by the door. He had placed it door when he entered the classroom.
"Oh," Wolf didn't have a rejoinder for that, "I see."
The bell rang exactly five minutes later and the students rose, slowly packing away their belongings for the next class. Wolf turned to Alex, "I feel like I'm re-entering high school."
Alex quirked, "Mr. Twelve-point-two-five, how was your high school experience?"
"Shut up, Feigh," Wolf grunted as he shouldered his bag, "C'mon, next class. History, I think."
"Great," Alex said then paused as he stepped out of the classroom, "Dean, you don't have to be behind me. I can navigate perfectly fine without you. I prefer if you walk beside me. I am paranoid, you see, when you're behind me."
Wolf grunted and swung his bag over his shoulder, hitting Alex lightly over the head and didn't bother apologizing, "You're welcome."
Alex smiled brightly, "Thank you."
Maybe, just maybe, he could enjoy school life while it lasted, even if it wasn't with Tom. Try and enjoy a normal life while he could. Then whatever the mission turned out, he wouldn't exactly be disappointed.
"Haul your-bloody-self faster," Wolf said unkindly from ahead.
"Right away."
For the first time in his life, maybe not the first time on second thoughts, Alex was perturbed by the onslaught of the lunch rush. Hundreds, maybe even thousands, of people rushing down the small hallways, trying to reach the cafeteria first. The first come first serve rule seemed to be creating a large negative havoc at the moment.
"Aren't you going to get lunch, Mr. Winchester?" The teacher asked kindly. Mrs. Heatherson was a nice woman in her mid-forties. She had been teaching English in this school for fifteen years and Alex had the suspicion that she knew exactly what went on behind the façade of the school.
"Call me Feighton, please," Alex smiled, "I think I'll wait for the…people to run themselves over first."
She laughed. It was a clear warm sound that echoed softly in the large empty classroom. It was just the two of them, with the exception of the crowds of people rushing by the clear window, "Doesn't the 'first come first serve' procedure make you want to rush a little?"
"I'll settle for whatever," Alex shook his head.
"Well," Mrs. Heatherson said as she snapped something shut, probably her computer, "Why don't you go with Mr. Coleman when you're ready?"
"Mr. Coleman?" A teacher?
Alex started as he heard rustling at the opposite corner of the room. He hadn't noticed it before, "Hi."
"That's Robert Coleman, he's about your age," Mrs. Heatherson, "Robert, this is Mr. Winchester."
"Feighton Winchester," Alex said, his alias rolling smoothly off his tongue, "Pleasure to meet you."
"Yeah, hi," The rather lack of formality or greeting put him off but Alex regained his composure immediately.
"I think your lunch-rush moment is over," Mrs. Heatherson said, "Robert, why don't you go with Feighton and grab something to eat?"
"Okay," Robert said and Alex heard the sound of a chair scraping back.
Alex stood as well and navigated his way slowly out of the classroom and waited before the door for Robert. The boy followed him and paused at the door, his next question directed at him, "I heard you're blind."
Alex's eye twitched at the bluntness, "Yes."
"You know," Robert said when they were a good ten meters away from the classroom, "You can say 'yeah' every now and then. This isn't a discipline school or something."
"Okay," Alex was rather taken aback.
Mrs. Heatherson waved at them before they disappeared over the edge. Almost immediately, Robert sighed appreciatingly.
Exhaled loudly, Robert explained, "I'm sorry if I sounded impolite back there. Mrs. Heatherson's nice, but she's kinda strict with what we talk about. I mean, I like to watch TV shows but then she said that we shouldn't spend too much time on those. She doesn't have any fandoms at all. How about you? What do you like? Any TV shows?"
"Well," Alex slowly drawled out, "I used to watch cartoons."
"Me too!" Robert exclaimed, "I used to watch SpongeBob every single day, but a few years ago I started to get into anime. You know what the major difference between anime and cartoon is?"
"No…"
"Well, I don't really get mad over how people call it," Robert said and Alex felt him shrug slightly, "But anime's more like Japan and cartoon is American and all that western thing. But anime has better art and all that. Do you watch anime?"
"No."
"Man, you're missing out," Robert said, slapping him on the back, "Maybe I will show you some…oh, never mind."
"Why never mind?" Alex asked even though he knew the answer.
"I mean, you're…well…sightless…blind," Robert sounded extremely awkward and Alex had to appreciate how much effort Robert put in in an attempt to soften the bluntness this time.
Alex rolled his sightless eyes, "You don't have to be that cautious. I'm not being protective of my blindness."
"That's cool," Robert said almost immediately, "Last time I told someone that I couldn't show them my favorite TV show because they were blind, they slapped me in the face."
Alex raised his eyebrow, "That's harsh."
If Wolf commented on his blindness one more time, Alex thought he might consider doing exactly that.
"Yeah, I know right," Robert agreed wholeheartedly, "Oh, we're here."
"Hey, um,"
"Robert," He replied.
"Yeah, Robert," Alex nodded, "Can you see if you can find my…uh, friend?"
Alex felt and heard the sudden drop of spirit in the boy's tone, "Your friend? Oh."
"Actually," Alex quickly added, "He's my brother. This is his first day too, I just don't want him to be lost or sitting alone."
He swore that he heard the smile in Robert's voice when he replied, "Oh yeah, sure. What does he look like?"
It was as if Robert was afraid of…friends or losing friends. Alex didn't know, but he supposed that it was somewhere on that train of thoughts.
"Mean, grumpy, grim, short hair, weird looking," Alex counted off, "Pissed probably, ha—"
"Where have you been?" Wolf's sudden growl beside him made him jump, hitting Wolf squarely in what he presumed was his jaw as he reacted instinctively.
Wolf stumbled back by the blow and grunted out, "What the hell?"
"Sorry, you took me by surprise," Alex said though they both knew that there wasn't a single trace of sincerity in the apology.
"Wow, he's tough looking," Robert commented from the side.
"Who's he?" Wolf asked Alex, recovering from the unfriendly blow.
"My friend," Alex said, a little surprised at how defensive he sounded.
"Friend or no, lunch's ending in ten minutes," Wolf said, setting a rather reluctant hand on Alex's shoulder, steering him toward the table that he couldn't see, "Next time you're late, don't expect me to wait."
"You're a poet and you don't even know it," Robert added.
Wolf growled, "You shut up."
Robert fell silent and Alex patted him slightly, feeling satisfied when his left hand actually landed on Robert's right shoulder, "Don't worry, he's just jealous."
Robert laughed nervously then whispered excitingly by his ear, "But he's so buff, dude!"
"Are you trying to hit on him?" Alex asked sarcastically, trying to keep his tone incredulous without amusement rolling off.
"What? No! Jeez!" Robert drawled back in shock and undisguised laughter.
Robert directed him to a chair and Alex sat down, his finger tapping and feeling the table, making sure that he doesn't accidentally stab himself with any sharp edges. It had a smooth surface and small rounded edges. Wolf pushed something before him and Alex was hit by the aroma. It was warm, no longer hot or fresh out of the kitchen, but it was still food.
"Dude, were you like the first ten to get to the cafeteria?" Robert asked in near awe, "That food is like holy good. You can't even get it unless you're the first few."
"I was the second actually," Wolf corrected them, "Some guy got before me. Then a stream of people just rushed out."
Alex was willing to get ten quid that Wolf was running to get to the cafeteria. How unsightly of a soldier. Alex reached tentatively for a fork around the plate. He turned as Robert passed it to him, "Here."
"Thanks."
"You should just let him do it on his own," Wolf said.
"Just helping out," Robert sounded taken aback, "Anyway, my name is Robert, what's yours?"
Wolf paused, "Dean. Dean Remington."
"Remington?" Robert said, "But Feighton said you're his brother. You two don't have the same last name."
"We're half-brothers," Wolf said.
"That's cool," Robert said as Alex pressed the fork into the food.
It was spaghetti. Warm. Squishy. Alex grimaced as he poked his food. It wasn't that he didn't like spaghetti, maybe it was but that wasn't the point, he just didn't want to eat in front of Robert while he was blind. Just this morning before Wolf drove them to school, he stabbed his chin with a fork while he was eating. While he was trying to eat.
"Robert?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you want it?" Alex offered.
"Dude, you serious?" Robert was eager as he turned to the plate Alex had before him.
"Yes," Alex said as he pushed the plate along with the fork to him, "I don't want it."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Um, Half-brother dude, can I have it?"
Alex kept his face neutral at the title Robert gave Wolf, "Don't give me that disgusting name."
"So I can have it?"
"Go ahead," Wolf said and waited until Robert took his third bite before he added, "But you're eating my money so I expect you to pay back."
Robert choked and Alex slapped him on the back unsympathetically, "Don't worry, Dean's just sad that his little brother didn't get to eat the food he bought."
"Shut up," Wolf growled.
"How was your class?" Alex asked as he leaned back against the smooth plastic chair.
"Just great," Wolf said sardonically, "Someone kept poking me from behind. Kind of reminded me of Eagle."
Alex grinned, "You're missing him, aren't you?"
"No, I'm not," Wolf defended viciously.
"Eagle?" Robert paused, "The animal eagle?"
"No, the human Eagle" Alex said, "He's Dean's friend."
"Your friend's name is Eagle?" Robert asked, "That's cool."
"Kid, is there something that's not cool for you?" Wolf growled.
Robert stopped and there was silence as if he was really thinking about it, "No, not really. Well, maybe that one time when the author killed off my favorite character."
Alex swore that he felt Wolf giving Robert his infamous half-stare half-glare. Robert scrapped his fork against the plate and Alex twitched, grimacing slightly. Robert paused, having to catch his look, "What's wrong?"
"That sound," Alex explained reluctantly, "It's kind of…" He failed to find the right word.
It was the feeling when someone scratches their nails against a wall. Alex twitched.
"Sorry," Robert said after a moment as he set his fork down, "So do you wanna walk around? I can show you around the campus and all that."
"I'll pass," Wolf said at the same time that Alex replied, "Yeah, sure."
Wolf glared at him, "I don't think it's wise for y—"
"C'mon then, Feigh, I can call you Feigh right?" Robert said.
"Sure."
"Let's go," Robert said as he dragged him away.
"Hey!" Wolf said, "Fei-"
By then they were already halfway out of the cafeteria. Even though Alex couldn't see, he could feel the blue sky. It was warm, comfortingly warm and not scorching hot or shivering cold. The side exit of the cafeteria led straight to a large grass field, the left side was for games and the other for everything else. Robert led him to the right, passing the heated football match between the two eager teams, their yells echoing even when they were pretty far away.
"I've never told anyone about this place," Robert said as he guided Alex into a tall grass land.
He felt the soft grass tickling and trailing across his hands as they walked pass. They were chest deep in it a few steps later and Alex brushed the grass away so that the taller of the grass would stop brushing against his neck.
"I kinda like it here," Robert said as he gestured for Alex to sit, "Others can't really see what's going on in here unless they're right above us, so it's really nice."
Alex brushed away the grass to sit down, feeling the gravel and rock filled ground beneath him, "So…?" He didn't know what to say. He wasn't a public speaker, nor did he ever want to be one.
"We can-"
Suddenly, the sound of grass being brushed apart rudely and loudly reached his ears. He tensed in alarm.
"What do we have here?" A loud voice said from right behind Robert, "Little Robert. Oh, and a new friend too."
"You know him?" Alex asked even though he already knew the answer.
"Yes…but…" Robert said but the newcomer cut him off.
"Of course he does. Now, what's your name, kid?"
The newcomer, newcomers Alex correct himself as he heard someone else joined the first, was clearly older than them. Two upperclassmen. Great.
"John Smith," Alex smiled and flashed them his most sardonic smile, "Please to meet you."
"You don't really want to say that," Robert said in a low tone, "They're…"
"Oh, John Smith," The first said, "That's a nice name, isn't it? Nice and simple, just like a freaking placeholder name."
"Definitely," Alex nodded.
"Well, John," The first said, "My name is August and this is Edward. I'm telling you, making friend with Robert here is the worst mistake you will ever make." Apparently, August wasn't going to be irate by simply the John Smith name.
"Why not?"
"His nerd-ness will rub off on you," August said, his tone straight as if lecturing kindergarteners, "Do you see his outfit? The way he dresses? It was as if he was a street beggar."
"I'm sorry," Alex shook his head and pointed at his eyes, "I'm a little blind here so I can't make judgments like you are doing."
"Oh, so you're blind," August said then laughed as if there was something funny, "That's great. Well, anyway, hey Robert, wanna play with us? We're having a great game of football. You can join and be the goalie."
"I…I…" Robert stuttered.
"Or are you afraid?" August asked, "Don't you want to give your friend here a good impression?"
"You're just jealous that you don't have his so-called nerd power," Alex said sarcastically as he rose slowly, making absolutely sure of his surroundings.
"Then would you like to play with us?"
"Are you saying that you want to be my friend?" Alex asked.
"If you want it that way, yes," August said as he shifted, his shoes grinding the hard rocks against the solid ground.
"Oh, please to meet you, my name is John Smith," Alex smiled as he lowered his gaze and reached into his pocket.
August asked, "What is it?"
"It's a diamond," Alex said, pinching his thumb and index finger shut tightly, "A really small one."
August walked closer to take a look and at that moment, Alex curled his fist and swung upward, hoping to catch him clear in the jaw. He underestimated August. August stepped back before he could hit him, easily dodging his attack and threw a punch toward his face. Alex jerked back as the fist connected with his jaw.
Alex grunted as the man twisted his arms behind his back, taking advantage as he tried to recover, "Tricky, but not enough."
Alex lifted his leg to kick back but someone, Edward, stepped on his feet, rendering his feet unavailable. Alex gritted his teeth and tried to jab August with his elbow but it only strengthened August's grip on his wrists, pulling them closer so that his shoulder screamed in protest.
"Hey, stop!" Robert exclaimed, "Stop! You're hurting him!"
August lessened his hold by a fraction but it was still tight and he couldn't move without having one of his shoulders nearly jerk out of its frame, "Just trying to make friends, that's all. So what's your name, Feighton?"
He already knew. Alex swallowed. So why?
"Crowley, Crowley Moore," Alex said calmly.
"What's your name?" His shoulder was screaming and Alex hissed unconsciously then immediately clamped his mouth shut. No weakness.
"You already knew, so why're you asking him?" Robert said, lunging forward to pull Edward off him, "Stop this!"
He heard Robert cried out, being pushed back by Edward brutally.
Taking the chance, Alex lowered his head and raised it sharply, hitting August, caught off-guard by Robert's action, squarely in the face. His head throbbed but when he heard August swearing loudly as he stumbled back, he felt immense satisfaction. It was worth it.
"C'mon, Robert," Alex said as he turned to where he thought Robert was.
Robert clambered to his feet and grabbed him by his arm. And they ran as fast as they could.
"Mr. Winchester," The teacher's voice was stern when Alex pulled open the classroom door gingerly as if it would explode, "You're five minutes late to class."
"Sorry," Alex said, feeling the attention of the whole class on him.
"Your seat is the one right next to Mr. Remington," The teacher said then paused, "Mr. Remington, please guide him."
Alex instantly disliked the teacher for putting his blindness, innuendo or not, out there bluntly.
Wolf tapped his shoulder softly and Alex nodded, taking a deep breath and smoothing out his features. Unlike the previous few classrooms, this one had rows of seats on different elevations, the closer to the front the lower. His seat was one right next to the window on the fourth stair. The window was open and he was tempted to lean his head out just to feel the breezy cool wind.
"Feigh," Wolf hissed to get his attention.
Alex turned to him.
"Your wrists," Wolf said under the teacher's voice so that he would not be heard, "They're bruised."
"I ran into a doorknob," Alex replied nonchalantly.
He didn't need to see to feel Wolf's skeptical glare, "And I'm guessing you're rubbing your shoulder because you had a run-in with a wall."
"Precisely," Alex said.
"Feigh, if you don't-"
"Mr. Remington, Mr. Winchester, get out of my class. Now."
I don't know the exact differences between UK and US schools so I'm basing this on my very poor knowledge of UK schools. I will try to keep everything right but if there're any mistakes, please do point them out ^ ^
~Until next time~