blue is the rarest rose

the new kid.

The bell had just rung right after Travis made it to class. At least he wasn't late. Because, of course, someone like him couldn't get away with being "fashionably late" and could laugh it off. He was the pastor's son and had to keep up with that reputation. Though, he still managed to get into trouble, a lot. Especially since the school probably kept a close eye on him since he was "ever so special" and was the son of Kenneth Phelps.

Ugh. If only he didn't have to be so perfect.

He walked to the back of the classroom, slumping down in a chair and carelessly dropping his backpack down next to the desk. It was his least favorite class: Math with Mrs. Packerton. Of course, following the truest of the "dumb jock" stereotypes, he wasn't that good at math. At all.

Travis started to lose track of time as Mrs. Packerton began teaching. He tried to pay attention- he really did- but he just couldn't. Math wasn't fun at all and there were better things to think about. Like football! He was on the football team, and actually played as a wide receiver, though everybody agreed that he'd be a lot better playing as a cornerback. The coach also gave him a lot of remarks about how he needed to learn to be a "better team player" and things like that. Ugh, remark after remark after how he had to be so perfect and so good.

Honestly, it was something he hated. He just wanted to be able to be a careless boy who wasn't afraid to get into trouble or anything like that. Of course that wasn't how it was though. After all, he was the pastor's son.

Eventually, there was something that got his attention. Or more so, someone.

A random kid who he'd never even seen before ran into the classroom, panting. Did they run all the way here or something? From the other side of the world, at that? Travis never had even seen whoever the hell this was before. This kid was way too short too, was he even supposed to be in highschool?

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know where my class was- and I had to get Larry to help me here! And you know how he is! Always late and all that, and he dropped me off here and started talking to me and we got distracted and-" The kid ranted.

The class really didn't need a whole story as to why this random kid just ran into class a couple minutes in. It wasn't even that late either. And of course this kid was friends with Larry! Travis and Larry always had some sort of rivalry, ever since... nevermind.

Taking a closer look at this kid, Travis could see that they were wearing a mask. He couldn't even tell if they were a boy or a girl either, with the ugly bright blue pigtails and the trashy outfit; some sort of band t-shirt and red ripped jeans, along with a black flannel. Of course.

Well, it probably wasn't as bad as Travis himself was dressed. He always wore his tan jacket to school, every day. It had blue, denatured hood and pockets, and sewn on the right sleeve was some sort of random brown plaid patch. The other sleeve had a cross messily drawn on it. Huh, he probably made his own modifications to it. Probably wasn't the best choice to wear it on the daily- but at least he still washed it. It wasn't like he smelled bad, just was unoriginal.

Shit, he got lost in his thoughts again about how this kid looked.

"Well, hello." Mrs. Packerton of course spoke with that usual annoying tone she had, it was like she was always passive aggressive, "You must be Sal Fisher, aren't you? You're late, and save the excuses for detention. Maybe the teacher there will actually care, but I don't."

Some of the class laughed at her comment, but Travis just rolled his eyes and found it stupid. Sal Fisher, huh? So this kid was a boy. Makes no sense with his hair.

"Well? What are you doing? Introduce yourself to the class, you're new here after all." Mrs. Packerton continued being the bitch she was.

Sal nodded, turning to face the class. "So.. as you guys have heard, I'm Sal, and I just moved here from New Jersey! Um.. does anybody have any questions for me?"

Travis raised his hand and smirked, leaning back in his chair. He'd come up with the most perfect question for this kid, which he thought was pretty funny. "Oh, yeah, dude in the back, with the blonde hair. You?" Sal asked ever so nicely, not knowing what was about to be asked.

"What's up with that stupid freak mask you have?!" Travis made sure he was heard with how loud he was, a couple of the students laughing at the question before the room fell quiet.

Sal paused before responding, "It's a prosthetic." It wasn't really an explanation for it, and Travis didn't really know what a prosthetic really was- especially one that looked like that- but sure, it was an answer.

Travis rolled his eyes and went back to zoning off, this boy wasn't any fun to make fun of. Ironic. He stopped leaning back on his chair, since as much as he was, he basically could have fallen at any second.

"Alright, Sal. There's an open spot next to the troublemaker. Go sit by him." Mrs. Packerton told him.

Troublemaker? Did she mean Travis? Obviously, he thought it was the best and most funny idea to ask that and he wasn't really the best student there. But did he really have to sit next to this freak faced kid for the rest of the year? Or at least until they could get their seats changed? He didn't know how long that would take, but however much time it took, it was too long.

Besides, why was Travis called a troublemaker when he tried so much to be the perfect kid? It wasn't his fault he thought his joke was funny- which it was. People laughed, so it was funny. He could've just brushed it off, that was if he was just some normal kid though. Unfortunately, he was Travis Phelps. The son of Kenneth.