Hooked (teenlock)

Chapter Four

I found the school to be in a state of chaos upon arriving on the premises Monday morning. Instead of bustling around the halls to do God-knows-what, as they usually would, students were gathered mainly around the first floor science classroom (this was, in fact, the same room that I took Earth Sciences in, and I was very anxious to see whether the event that must have caused this would interfere with my schedule). I tried to find a way around the gathered teens, but before I could make any moves, someone called out my name through the excitement.

I turned in the direction of the door to find John fighting his way out of the crowd towards me. It was unsettling to find that when I gave him a grin of salutation, he did not return it. As soon as he reached me, we moved a few inches away from the crowd, so we could speak without disruption.

Curiosity intensifying, I attempted to see over the swarm of my peers. "What on earth is going on? Has Mr. Hart injured himself?"

"Mr. Hart is fine," said John.

"That's a shame."

He didn't laugh, which caused even more uneasiness within me. "Someone's been killed, Sherlock."

Immediately, I turned towards John, looking down at him from my taller height. "What?"

He shrugged and took a deep breath. Shaking. Obviously distressed. "That's what everyone is saying. There are cops in there and everything. It..." John exhaled. "It looks bad, Sherlock."

"Murder, then?"

The blonde quickly ran his tongue over his lips. Annoyed. "Yes, generally, that can be assumed when someone is killed."

I set my shoulders back and stood up straight, head high. "In that case, I think I'd like a look."

John grabbed me by the arm just as I was about to head into the throng. "You can't just march onto a crime scene!"

His hand lingered on my skin, and a flutter of butterflies quickly filled my stomach. (Of course, butterflies are simply the effect of increased blood pressure during an adrenaline rush. I suppose I was just trying my hand at being romantic. It won't happen again. Probably.)

I gave him a confident smile despite my rushing emotions. "Would you like to come with me?"

Before John could give a response of any sort, the school bell rang. However, instead of dispersing to their regular classes, students lingered in the corridor. The intercom cackled to life, and my peers quieted down.

The speaker, Professor Millyweed, cleared her throat. "Students and teachers, due to... recent events, classes are cancelled today. Buses will be here within the quarter-hour to return students to their individual homes, but for now if you could all go straight to your homeroom classes..."

She continued to speak, but I had grabbed John by the shoulders (an act that I would probably dwell on if not for the situation). "John, don't go home on your bus. Meet me here as soon as they let you leave. Please."

He gave the slightest of nods, and I let him go. Quickly, I left for my class, my skin still tingling from his touch.

The classroom was already filled with idiots when I walked in, and I chose to ignore their numerous taunts in my direction as I headed straight for my seat in the back of the room. Our teacher continued to work, paying us no mind.

I'd hardly been seated for a moment when the boy in front of me turned around. "Hey Sherlock, you're the genius here. What do you reckon happened?"

The classroom quieted quickly, waiting to hear my response. I raised an eyebrow at the boy, who had tried to speak to me several times before without success. "I can't imagine why that would ever be your business, George."