2 - New Friends and New Classes

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(Y/n POV)

Gareth and I continued to talk as we walked towards our first classes. His being biology and mine being honors art. Luckily, our classes were only a few doors down from each other, his on the left and mine on the right, so we were able to walk in the same direction.

"So, Y/n I never caught your last name." Gareth stated as we walked down the maze of halls towards our classes.

"Uh... Harrington" I mumbled under my breath looking over at him as he continued to keep his sight straight ahead.

"Harrington as in Steve Harrington?" He raised his eyebrow and looked at me from the corner of his eyes.

"Yup... just like the wonderful Steve Harrington." I sighed and put my head down as I heard him scoff.

"ThE sTeVe HaRrInGtOn," he said mockingly, "Y/n he is anything but a wonderful guy. He's okay... but not wonderful. He treated girls like crap and would switch from one to another... let alone how he would treat the "freak kids"." He said putting up air quotes with his fingers as he said freak kids.

"Yeah, I've always felt bad about how he treated them. I've tried to talk to him about it, but he always would give me a weird look and question why I was trying to defend them."

"Well, thank you for trying to defend us." I looked at him confused as he said this. What did he mean, he didn't seem like one of the quote-on-quote freak kids?

"What do you mean us. Are you one of those freak kids?" He smiled and laughed lightly as he nodded talking about how he is in the dnd club "Hellfire" which of course I've heard of. I listened to him as I watched the sparkle in his eyes when he talked about something he loved. It was nice, ya know. Seeing someone talk about something they are in love with. He then started going off about a band that he is in... Corroded Coffin. Another sparkle fell into his blue eyes.

Finally, we were at our classes. He smiled and said goodbye and I just nodded in response. It was weird. Being able to talk to someone and them agreeing that your brother truly isn't all that people think he is. Of course, he is a nice guy everyone knows he is but, someone who can see his dark side is actually reassuring that I'm not totally crazy.

I quietly walked into the art room smiling as I saw my favorite teacher, Mrs. Quinn. She was the one who fought for an honors art class for the students at Hawkins High. Well, more specifically me. As I have been in her class since freshman year, and she treated me like her own child. I felt as if she was my real mom.

She must have been reading my thoughts because she looked up and smiled. She walked around her desk and offered to give me a hug. I set my books down on the desk next to me and gladly walked into her arms. She was the only person in Hawkins that actually treated me as a person. She truly was my only friend, and I knew I could never thank her enough for that.

We talked about our summers and how she went on vacation with her husband and her two children. I mostly just talked about my dreams and how my home life has continued to be crap. She reassured me that it would slowly get better, since it is my Junior year and I'll be able to leave in just two years. But then she brought up my dreams, asking what they were about.

I told her about the calming voice that would always talk to me. The vividness they were slowly becoming and about my dream journal. She listened in delight... happy that something keeps me happy. Though it may just be dreams it obviously kept me happy.

Sadly, the bell rang as students rushed into the class. Talking about their summer and how they have all been doing. I walked to the back desk that Mrs. Quinn made just for me. It was a single table with only one chair that she usually pulls whenever I'm not in her class. She knows I'm not comfortable talking to people and that I hate being close to people for long periods of time, so she surprised me with this during the middle of my freshman year.

She walked up to the front of the class and discussed how instead of just honors art this is a combined class. Honors art and art1 which most students were in art1. She stated that the honor students will have free will with their own art. They won't be forced to any boundaries and will only be coached by herself instead of actually taught. While art1 must still be under her full command and that they will have actual assignments that they must complete in a certain amount of time.

I snickered at the sighs from students as they realized they will actually have homework in this class. Of course, like regular students, kids in this class believe that they can get out of homework by taking a simple, easy class. Which art is not one of them, which some may not believe. Mrs. Quinn goes strong when it comes to making students feel creative and forcing them to get out of their comfort zone. Which is something I will always thank her for.

Mrs. Quinn is the main reason I've started using colored pencils. Realistic and colorful are two things that have always drawn me in. I would go sit at parties that my brother would go to just so I could get realistic looks with colorful lights. Pink and blue... blue and purple... green and yellow... all beautiful colors to combine into one piece to make me feel comfortable and warm looking at my own art.

Class passed by with a breeze as I slowly started brainstorming what I would do for my first piece. I'm thinking landscape but that will take a crap ton of time. But I moved it out of my head as I started to head to the next class. I said goodbye to Mrs. Quinn and walked out the classroom door, smiling as I saw Gareth standing outside the door waiting for me.

He really was a sweet guy and would continue to walk me to my next class, forensic science. And then walk off to his own personal class. Then by the time I would be walking out of my class he would be waiting by the classroom door waiting to then walk me to my third class for the day which was AP Literature and Composition. I have already taken AP Language and Composition my sophomore year, which was a big accomplishment as I was the youngest in the class. But it was perfectly fine, as everyone in the class was quiet and no one ever wanted to talk.

AP Lit was definitely an interesting class. We already started talking and reading the first poem that we would discuss in class. It was surprising but not completely surprising coming from Mr. Grims. He was a fun yet strict and get to the point teacher. He hated waiting for his students to listen and would actually smack rulers on kid's desks if they weren't paying attention. Everyone knew who he was since he had a reputation around the school as being a very "random teacher". He got this reputation because one day he would walk in wearing casual clothing and the next day he would be in full get up, with a fitted suit and crazy tie. I can already tell he is going to be one of my favorite teachers, but I probably shouldn't let him know that. It would probably go straight to his head.

After this class it was lunch, which I was most nervous about. Throughout the last through years, I would usually grab my food and take it outside to eat. But, as soon as I walked into the hallway Gareth asked if I would sit with him and his friends at lunch. I instantly was pretty nervous as I hate eating around people. It wasn't that I don't eat... it's just that eating around people makes me feel gross. I feel as if I'm chewing too loud or I always have something on my face. Just another insecurity that I can add onto my list. I must have been spacing off as we walked towards the cafeteria because he asked me again.

"Sooo, is that a yes or a no to eating lunch with my friends and I?" I looked back at him as he seemed to have a slight glimpse of worry in his eyes. I looked down and thought of how I should answer. Finally, I would answer as we were walking down the final hall towards the doors.


(1487 Words)

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