Just in case, I do not own Jimmy Two-Shoes.
Welcome to the Jimmy Two-Shoes college AU fic nobody but me asked for! I'm actually really excited about this one. I'm having a lot of fun writing it and I hope you all enjoy it :) If you have any questions, feel free to ask, I'll probably be able to answer most of them.
I'm trying to base this off of Canadian university/college systems (ex. the chancellor of the university that gets brought up) but I'll probably get a few things wrong as I am not Canadian myself. Miseryville U also takes some mild inspo from my own university lol, I'm taking some creative liberties.
Other notes: This is not a mundane AU, there are still monsters/demons/whatever, though the world building is a little different in other aspects.
Heloise has lost track of the amount of times she's considered transferring from Miseryville University to… anywhere else, really.
To clarify, she's only been here three weeks.
As she's leaving Heinous Hall (every building is named after Lucius Heinous I or one of his descendents; naturally, all of his descendants are also named after him so every building has almost the exact same name. Totally not confusing at all), Heloise takes a deep, long sigh. Her last class of the day- the week, even, is over. And even if she's absolutely certain that her professor for that class, Dr. von Scientist hates her, she isn't too bothered over it because a) it's her last class and therefore she can look forward to going back to her dorm, and b) pissing him off is beyond hilarious; not to mention really easy.
That isn't to say Heloise is in the best mood right now- she wouldn't be considering transferring if that were the case.
For starters, her weekend is packed with four separate projects she has to work on, one of which wasn't even assigned by any of her professors, but by the university chancellor who was commissioning some sort of torture device. Heloise thinks she'd be more excited about it if she didn't hate the chancellor, but at least he was paying her for it. She also had to meet up with her advisor about her scholarship on Saturday, and right after that she had to meet with the chancellor about his commission.
No time for her personal projects, or even to start reading the new installment of Misery Hearts. It would probably be a few weeks before she could get to any of that.
It sucks, Heloise thinks. I was getting really invested in those exploding piranhas.
Briefly, she considers talking about transferring at her advisor meeting tomorrow before realizing that it probably wouldn't be worth losing her scholarship over (again, a thought she's lost count of how many times she's had). It might be a good idea to plan ahead, so she can get a scholarship to a new school, preferably one without quite such a backbreaking workload.
She's so lost in thought that she barely notices the soccer ball about to hit her in the head.
It hits her in the head and knocks her to the ground before she even has the chance to move.
"Oh, sweet corn!" Someone says, voice awash with worry. Her sight is a bit blurred as she opens her eyes, but through her hazy vision she can see a blond boy leaning over her and waving his hands in her face. Then, he puts one down and holds the other still. "How many fingers am I holding up?"
It takes her a moment to adjust. "...Two?"
The boy blinks, then looks to his hand. He nods vigorously. "Yup!" His expression shifts again to something almost mournful. "Sorry about that, by the way."
"It's fine," Heloise says, rubbing the spot on her forehead where the ball hit her. It's not fine, actually, but she doesn't have the time to deal with it right now. Maybe in a few weeks. The president's commission would certainly need a test subject…
"You sure?" he asks, pointing slightly to the left of her scar. "You're kind of… bleeding."
Heloise reaches up to touch the wound, and, lo and behold, it is. Rubbing the substance between her fingers, she says, "It's a head wound. They usually look worse than they actually are." She gets up, and to emphasize that the interaction is over, adds, "I'll take care of it back at my dorm."
The boy gets up, too. "My dorm's really close. I can make it up to you- I could fix it up there!"
"I don't…" Heloise takes a moment to consider. It's possible that it might be easier to dress the wound if someone else was doing it- and if it wasn't, well, she could probably relieve some of the stress that had been building up lately.
And really, it's just nice to have someone even offer to do something for her.
"How close is it?"
He all but carries her there.
"This is your dorm?"
"Yeah! It's mostly 'cause of my roommate. His dad works here, so he managed to hook us up with something pretty nice."
Pretty nice is an understatement. It's less of a dorm and more like a house. Tall, dark columns line the entrance, the doors and windows are made of rich mahogany, and there was a garage. Heloise had seen glimpses of the 'dorm' a few times on the way to class, but she had assumed it belonged to a fraternity- a rich fraternity.
"That's one way to put it," Heloise replies. She's still staring in an odd mix of shock, horror, and awe when the boy starts leading her inside.
He's touchy, she notes, and is somewhat disturbed that she isn't bothered by it. Must be the blood loss.
The inside of the… dorm isn't quite as nice as the outside, but it's not terrible either. The only mess Heloise can see are a few soda bottles on the floor, most of which aren't even close to empty (?) and the thin layer of dust coating some of the pictures and paintings on the walls.
Far from the worst condition a 'dorm' housed by two college boys could be in, but Heloise has a nagging feeling that she just isn't seeing the worst of it.
They walk into what appears to be the living room. The TV is on, playing something very loudly, and a large, bored looking red monster is lounging on the couch. The roommate, Heloise realizes. He's… Familiar.
His eyes light up when he sees the boy. "Yo, Jimmy!"
The boy- Jimmy, apparently- waves. "Hey, Beezy!"
Beezy smiles and opens his mouth to say something before his gaze lands on Heloise. His expression shifts to obvious confusion very quickly.
"Who's that?" he asks, pointing to her.
Jimmy grins, leaning slightly on the couch. "This is-" He cuts himself off, embarrassed. Sheepishly, he turns to her and says, "I never got your name."
"Heloise," she says. This was a bad idea. This should not be taking this long.
"I'm Jimmy! Nice to meet you. This is Beezy— my roommate."
"I gathered," Heloise deadpans.
He turns to Beezy. "And this is Heloise," Jimmy says, and he gestures to Heloise. "I didn't, uh, block a soccer ball during the game and it hit her, and then she got hurt, so I'm taking care of it for her!"
"Speaking of which..." She points to her forehead. "Are we going to…?
"Oh! Right!" He practically snaps into an upright position. "I've got a first aid kit in my room. It's upstairs, c'mon! Bye, Beezy!"
Jimmy waves him off. Beezy returns the gesture and immediately refocuses onto the television.
She follows out the living room to yet another hallway, and up a flight of spiral stairs. The upstairs hallway is in slightly better shape than the one by the ground floor entrance.
Jimmy opens the door to his room. It's mostly tidy, except for a slightly unmade bed.
He walks inside, as does Heloise. "I'll find my first aid kit. You sit tight."
"Uh-huh," Heloise drawls. She pulls herself on the bed and watches as Jimmy searches through a few drawers.
"So," he asks, still looking. "What's your major?"
He's trying to make small talk. Great.
Despite her disinterest, she humors him, and looks out a nearby window. "Engineering. But I'm minoring in biochemistry."
"Cool- oh, found it!" He takes a box from the drawer and turns around. Grinning, he continues, "I'm majoring in mortuary science."
She flinches, slightly. Heloise knows better than to be creeped out by morticians, funeral directors and the like, and she isn't, but the way he said it so blithely was more than a bit… odd. Not creepy, or scary, but odd.
She feels something small and wet pressed against her forehead that makes her cut sting. She lets out a quiet hiss— Jimmy must have decided to apply antiseptic while she wasn't looking.
"Sorry," he says, and laughs a bit nervously. After holding it in place for a little longer, he takes the cotton ball he used from her forehead. "Just wanted to make sure it's clean."
Heloise shrugs and he rummages through the first aid kit for an appropriately sized bandage. He settles on a medium sized one, and Heloise can see from the wrapper that it's waterproof.
"I haven't seen you around campus much- you're a freshman, right?" Jimmy asks, carefully peeling the bandage from the paper. He's having some trouble.
"Yeah," Heloise replies, absentmindedly. Jimmy smiles.
"That's great!" he says, still struggling with the bandage wrapper. "I'm a sophomore. You're lucky- you get to experience everything awesome about Miseryville U for the first time!"
Lucky? To be here?
Heloise rolls her eyes while he isn't looking. "Well, I probably won't get to 'experience' much of it. I'm thinking of transferring."
Jimmy looks at her, genuinely shocked. "What do you mean you're thinking of transferring? You just got here!"
"Exactly. I just got here, and I don't think I've had a good day since." She crosses her arms over her chest, maybe a bit defensively.
"Well, you could have one!" he offers. "College is always hard when you just get there- but if you want, I could show you around, introduce you to people. Oh, you could join a club! I'm in-"
Heloise cuts him off. "Listen," she says. "I just want to transfer somewhere I'm not, y'know, miserable all the time. With a less burdensome workload, where I'd actually have time to do that stuff you mentioned. And I should technically be working right now, so… chop-chop."
A silence follows. Not the kind where it's actually quiet- she can still hear the AC and the TV downstairs- but the kind where you realize how uncomfortably quiet you're being.
"Right," Jimmy says, a bit hoarsely. "Sorry."
Finally, he gets the bandage out and brushes her bangs out of her face. Carefully, he sticks it on her wound.
"Thanks," Heloise says, and she moves her bangs back into place as she gets off the bed.
Jimmy picks up a pen from the top of his dresser and scribbles something on the bandage wrapper. "No problem." He hands it to her. "Just… Tell me you'll think about it."
Heloise examines the wrapper. It's his phone number.
"I make no promises." She stuffs it in her pocket anyway and makes her way towards the door.
"If you want," Jimmy says, as she turns the knob. "I could walk you back to your dorm."
The phrasing sounds like an offer, but his tone of voice sounds more like a plea for mercy. Unfortunately for him, Heloise isn't feeling particularly merciful at the moment.
With one last glance, she says, "I think I got it."
And then she leaves.
After fumbling with her stupid keycard at the front door, front desk, and the door to her dorm (those scanner things do not work properly and Heloise would gladly replace each and everyone of them if it meant she didn't have to take five minutes to get from the front door to her first floor room), Heloise has finally made it back to her dorm.
It would be a much more welcome sight if she wasn't immediately greeted by her bitch roommate as soon as she walked in.
"You look like shit," Jean says. Heloise isn't sure how she can tell, given that Jean hasn't actually looked up at her from her phone, but whatever. "Did something bad happen to you? That would be so funny."
"None of your business," Heloise snaps. Well, she intends to snap, but her exhaustion makes it sound more like a groan. "Why are you out here instead of your room, anyway?"
"There's a rush event that I have to go to in like, ten minutes." Now that she's actually processed it, Heloise takes note of what Jean is wearing: a glittery pink stetson hat with matching roper boots, white shorts, and cropped plaid shirt with a knot tied above her waist. Must be a cowgirl theme. "Are you gonna tell me why you look like you fell off a truck now?"
Heloise rolls her eyes. "I just said it was none of your fucking business."
"Well, my rush event isn't any of your 'fucking business' but I told you anyway," Jean replies, looking up from her phone (finally). Her voice has that grating smug undercurrent that makes Heloise want to rip her ears off. Just to shut her up, she humors her.
"Some guys were playing soccer and one of them kicked a ball into my face, and then the goalie took me back to his dorm to take care of me," Heloise explains.
Jean's eye lights up with a gossip-hungry sparkle. "He took you back to his dorm?"
Heloise blushes, somewhere between shock and shame. She didn't mean for it to sound like that. "Not like that. He just gave me a bandage." She gestures to her forehead.
"That's all? Boring," Jean says, and she looks down back at her phone, eye glazed over.
Something about Jean's dismissiveness makes Heloise feel challenged (admittedly, though, Heloise feels like most things Jean says/does are a challenge, because they usually are). And, well, maybe it was like that. Sort of. Heloise was never the best at determining if someone was interested in her. They had to be really, really upfront. Jimmy totally could have been hitting on her. Plus…
"Well, he kind of asked me out," Heloise says, and the moment the words leave her mouth, she realizes that she's absolutely kidding herself. He was just being nice. But she can't back down now.
Jean looks back up from her phone. "He did, now?" She's clearly suspicious. Wow. Fuck her. She's right, but fuck her!
"He said he would show me around campus," Heloise says, and she definitely sounds like she's lying, even if it's true. "He's a sophomore."
"He probably just said that 'cause you're a freshman."
Heloise huffs. She could feel her face turning red. "Actually, Jean, he said that because I told him I was thinking of transferring."
It's quiet for a moment— not the awkward kind. More like something out of a horror movie.
Jean smiles widely, a stark contrast to her mostly disinterested attitude from moments before.
"Wait, seriously?" she asks, giddy. "I was hoping you'd just, like, try and find a new dorm, but this is even better! Now Kryssi can move in and I don't have to see your gross face around campus!"
"I just said I was thinking of transferring, not that I was going to!"
"Well, you should!" Jean says, mood shifting yet again to something much angrier. "It'd be so much easier if-"
"Maybe I will!" Heloise snaps, and starts storming off towards her room. "But it won't be for you!"
"Like I give a shit what you do!" Jean yells as Heloise slams the door shut behind her.
Fuck her, fuck her, fuck her.
Heloise drops her bag to the ground, rips a piece of paper from a notebook on her desk, and grabs the closest pen she can find.
Work will have to wait a little longer, she decides. It's time to make this decision.
She draws a line down the middle, splitting it into two columns. On the left, she writes, in all capital letters 'PROS'. On the right, 'CONS'. On top of either of them, she writes 'TRANSFERING'.
Starting with the pros, Heloise furiously writes down as many points she can think of. It isn't hard.
All the buildings here have nearly the same name (ridiculous)
I'm overworked
The cafeteria food is disgusting and my dormitory doesn't have a kitchen
The stupid card scanners are barely functional
One of my professors probably wants me dead
I wouldn't have to see Jean EVER AGAIN
Now for the cons.
I have a full ride
It would spite Jean
Huh. The choice should seem obvious, with so many pros, and so few cons. But it would be great to spite Jean.
Maybe she needs to even out the list a little more. And she just has the perfect way to do that now, doesn't she?
Tentatively, Heloise pulls out the bandage wrapper from her pocket and retrieves her phone from her bag. She dials the number on it into the keypad. It barely takes Jimmy any time at all to answer her- by the time she's holding the receiver up to her ear, he's already answered.
"Hello?"
"Jimmy, hi!" She says, in a voice so syrupy-sweet she's making herself sick. "It's me, Heloise. I was wondering if your offer to show me around campus was still good?"