2. The freak.

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John rushed to math, it was half past ten already. When he dashed into the classroom, he made up an excuse when the teacher looked at him angry. "I had to help with stuff, for my new roommate." He lied and settled himself into a chair in the back of the class, greeting some classmates while passing them. He sighed, opening his book, resting his head on his right hand palm.

"Psssst, John," someone whispered.

John turned his head and saw Molly staring at him. "Hi Molly, what is it?" He asked with a muffled voice.

"Well, I was wondering... who is your new roommate?" She asked nervously with flushed cheeks.

"Sherlock Holmes."

"Oh, he seems nice...you should introduce me to him."

John chuckled. "Sure Molly."

Anderson, who sat in front of John, apparently overheard the little conversation they had. He turned to John with a mean look on his face. "Do you share a dorm with Sherlock? The Sherlock Holmes, the freak?" He laughed amused.

John frowned. "From where do you know him?" He asked curiously.

"The freak and I were in the same Primary school. He is scary!" He said in disgust. "When we were young, and took afternoon naps in class, I always got a nightmare because of him."

"Oh..." John said. He started to get slightly worried; he really didn't want to be stuck with a personality like this. What Anderson was telling him could possibly be true. Anderson can be an overreacting bully, really, but this morning, when he met Sherlock, he wasn't kind at all.

John couldn't pay attention anymore, so he hopped off his chair and scurried to his room. When he strolled inside, he couldn't see Sherlock. He peered inside the bathroom. Nope. No sign of Sherlock.

John raised his brows when he discovered the examination table near his roommate's bed. This is odd. John thought. He walked on his tip toes to Sherlock's wardrobe. He opened it, frowning at the stacks of black suits. Special, he thought.

After several minutes of nosing about in Sherlock's stuff, the bell rang. John felt quite guilty and walked outside the room, on his way to the canteen. At the end of the hall he heard Anderson screaming. John stopped walking as he saw Sherlock pressed against the wall, looking down to his feet while Anderson was scolding him. He frowned.

"You freak! Are you coming to stalk me?!" He scoffed, pinning his belly. "You've always been a lonely freak, and you always will be. I really feel bad for John being stuck with the biggest loser of the whole universe."

John just stood there. Neither Anderson nor Sherlock could see him, and he didn't want to be seen. He didn't want to choose someone's side. After several minutes, Anderson let go of Sherlock and they both headed inside the canteen.

John sat with some classmates. They were talking about how boring the morning was, and John had to explain why he was so late and who his new roommate was. Just a typical dull conversation. When John finished his soup, and started to eat his delicious steak with mashed potatoes and carrots, he heard a familiar word.

"Freak!" Anderson called from the other side of the room. Sherlock was sitting in the barely lit corner of the room, alone, with an empty tray. Except there laid a banana peel at the corner of the tray. "Everyone!" Anderson announced. "Meet Sherlock Holmes, the number one freak," he exclaimed. John sighed.

Sherlock rolled with his eyes, rose up and walked away. When he passed John's table, they briefly made eye contact and John saw the pain and loneliness in his eyes. Anderson is being ridiculous. This is going too far. John thought as he stood up and raced to Sherlock. When he came out of the canteen he saw Sherlock sitting on a bench in the hall.

"Hey, Sherlock."

Sherlock looked up and stared tensly at John, not answering.

"Hello..."John repeated.

"Here to insult me? Then hurry up, I want to be alone," he scowled.

"No, I'm not. I wanted to..." John trailed off, not sure what to say next.

"Exactly," Sherlock said, looking down to his knees.

"Hey." He tried to make eye contact with Sherlock, but he won't look up. "You shouldn't listen to Anderson."

Sherlock looked up briefly. "I don't," he said quietly.

"That's good." John smiled softly.

"What are you doing here, John?" Sherlock asked confused, making eye contact.

"I thought you might need someone to talk to." John hesitated. "And we share a dorm together...I mean... we don't know anything from each other." Sherlock cut off John.

"You have a sister Harry. I first thought Harry as a male, but I read Harriet on the letter that lay by the sink; don't worry, I didn't open it. I can tell from the engraving on your phone, 'To Harry from Clara,' that obviously she gave it to you because her relationship ended. She didn't end the relationship, she got dumped, or she would have kept it. Harry drinks a lot, judging by the numerous scratches around the plug-in. Probably or no, I'm sure the scratches were left by the numerous attempts to plug in the phone while intoxicated. You struggle with science. You have bags under your eyes and you were late in class. By the position of your science book and the tea cup freshly made, you studied last night." John stopped him.

"Okay, okay." He was silent for a good ten seconds. "That was amazing."

"Thanks..."

"Is this the reason why Anderson..?"

"Yes."

John huffed in disbelief.

The bell rang. "Well, science calls me. See you later, Sherlock." Sherlock twitched when John patted his shoulder.

For the first time, someone actually spoke to me. Sherlock thought.

~ May xx

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