The Flier (Patrick Stump)

5 - New

/Chapter 5\
School the Next Day

It's just a spark, but it's enough to keep me going. Paramore softly played through my earbuds as the lead in my pencil glided across the back of the notebook. It was one of those generic brand, wide-ruled notebooks that you found at your nearest grocery store, but I loved it so much. I used it for everything: writing, drawing, notes. It was basically my "boredom book". As I drew, the pencil lead stained the cardboard-like surface with gray. I noticed out of my peripheral vision a few people walk past me, either to get to the checkout counter of the school library (where I currently was) or to exit the room. Soon, there was a mediocrely drawn flower standing alone in the corner. Sighing, I flipped the Boredom Book over so that the cover was facing up and took the earbuds out of my ears, pausing the song.

"Hey Zen," a familiar voice whispered from in front of me, but it wasn't familiar enough. I jumped at the sound and looked up with wide eyes, only to find the dork that always seemed to be on my mind. A grin was on his face, small chuckles coming out of his mouth. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"No, no, it's fine," I reassured him, letting my lips form a smile. Deep down, though, I was nervous. I always became nervous when Patrick was around.

"Why are you in here by yourself?" he mumbled, sitting down on the floor in front of me.

"I come here every day before first period. It gives me some time to relax and get ready for the day," I explained softly. His beautiful eyes sparkled with curiosity as he listened.

"So you always are in here by yourself?" he asked. His tone suggested that the idea was sad to think about, but it honestly was nice in the library.

"Yeah. The quietness is peaceful. And none of the girls in my grade bother me." After a minute, he nodded.

"That's true. None of them ever seem to bother to come in here unless they have to. Do you have any friends, like, in your grade?" he inquired.

"Kinda. They're the kind of people that you are acquaintances with, but you don't know them very well and you don't spend time with them outside of class," I explained.

"So in-class friends."

"Yeah."

"I guess that can count. I don't have a lot of friends in my grade, either. Even as a junior, I'm scared to talk to most," he admitted. A small laugh came out of my mouth before I could stop it, and what was left of his grin was replaced by a confused look. "What?"

"Nothing. You just seem so outgoing. It's hard to see you as someone who doesn't talk to a lot of people," I whispered as a smile crossed my face. A little blush lit up his cheeks, and he smiled and looked down at the floor.

"I'm only outgoing with people I know," he said. Then, he glanced up at me, his sparkling eyes meeting mine. "Are you implying that you want to see me more outgoing?"

"No, I was not. It wouldn't be bad to see, though," I answered. His smile seemed to brighten a little before he talked again.

"Well, then in that case..." What is he trying to ask? "I was wondering if you-" Suddenly, the first bell of the day cut him off, and I jumped to my feet.

"Can you tell me sometime later today? It takes the whole passing period to get to my first class," I exclaimed, backing up towards the door. A look of solemnness (sadness, maybe?) washed over him, and he nodded.

"Yeah, sure," he said, giving me a smile that I knew was fake. You didn't have to know someone very well to tell if their smile was fake or not. I gave him a smile back and rushed out of the room, stuffing my earbuds in the pocket of my flannel shirt.

<>

By far, the worst period of the day was fourth. Algebra 2 never failed to torture me. I never excelled in math, nor did I ever expect to. In fact, half the time I couldn't understand any of it (even though my teacher was a good teacher). I was surprised that I even got into the class. So, when the old door creaked open, I was pleasantly surprised by the change of events. A new student. My Algebra teacher, Mr. Roban, hurried over to the door to greet whoever was hiding behind the wall outside the door.

"We have a new student. He just arrived a little bit ago, and he is in your fourth period math class," a woman's voice introduced. I couldn't place it. I think it was the secretary's voice, though.

"Alright!" the middle-aged teacher exclaimed in his regular cheery Southern accent. "We'll get him settled in." Then, Mr. Roban walked back to the middle of the room with a boy slowly following behind him. A cute boy. A very cute boy, who seemed so shy that he watched the ground as he walked and held his books as close as possible. His brown hair, almost black, swept across his forehead like a wave landing on a beach: messy, but perfect at the same time. His dark amber eyes were framed with a thin layer of eyeliner (perfectly done, I might add), and his rounded eyebrows were furrowed so that he looked uncomfortable. It was quite adorable, to be honest. "Class, today we welcome a new student to Algebra 2. What's your name, son?" The boy asked Mr. Roban something in such a low voice that not even the front row seemed to hear it. "Whatever you wanna be called as. Say it loud enough for the class to hear."

"I'm Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III, but you can just call me Pete," the boy muttered, not even looking at his audience. His shoes seemed to be more interesting.

"Welcome, Mr. Wentz. I'm Mr. Roban. If you would like, you can take a seat in the back next to Zenna. She doesn't bite, I promise," Mr. Roban said, winking at me at the end. I grinned and shook my head at them both. Pete looked up and immediately locked eyes with me. I noticed a ghost of a smile on his face as he made his way over to the empty seat next to me. Once he dropped his books and binder on the desk, he slid into the chair. He turned to me a minute later, holding out his large hand.

"I'm Pete," he introduced. Hesitantly, I held out my small hand too, and we shook hands quickly.

"Zenna."

"Don't depend on me to give you answers to problems. I don't get a lot of what is taught." I snickered at that, and he furrowed his eyebrows again.

"Same goes for me."

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AN: this is probably a really short and shitty chapter but i wanted to get it out and get a bit of romantic tension in and introduce you to someone new all in one thing. :) anyway, i hope you like it.
ship name: penna or zetrick?

GOAL: can we get to 10 votes and 5 comments (that aren't me replying)?

have a lovely day/night.