Not About Angels ➳ A TBNRFrags/PrestonPlayz Fanfiction

Nic(k)ola ➳ Chapter 4

Nicola's POV

January 12th

"Hurry up, Meg!" I groan, my binders and books weighing my arms down. Meg always takes forever at her locker, and I'm always the one that waits for her. The rest of our friends have already left for class.

Meg is my talkative friend. She's literally perfect with the exception of her braces; long hair, height, good grades, plays soccer. And I love her because she's the one girl I can talk to. I also conveniently share locker with her.

Meg sighs as she pulls out her binder and closes her locker. We've got homeroom first, and then Chemistry together, along with another friend.

As she locks her locker, the 2 minute warning bell rings over the intercom.

"Fudge..." I sigh under my breath. "Let's go!" I run off down the hall, maneuvering my way through students. Why did my class have to be on the other side of the school?

We jog up the stairs and burst through the heavy doors. I breath hard, the morning laziness catching up to me. I look around. It's the second floor hallway, and it's pretty much abandoned. That's my cue that we need to hurry up. I'm never late for class. Never.

"Slow down, Nick!" I hear Meg call out to me from behind.

"I'm not in the mood!" I loudly whisper, turning around to face her for a split second, causing my medium length hair to whip my face. I crinkle my nose.

But it's true; I'm really not in the mood. After the news from Saturday morning, I spent the next few days crying my eyes out. YouTube had blown up about the news of TBNRFrags death. I wouldn't have known in terms of news, but all of the YouTubers I watch, like Mitch, and Rob, and Kenny... they all posted a video about Preston. They all tweeted about him. All of the comments were so sorrowful. I was sad... I AM sad. But none of my friends really understand; they aren't... 'nerds'... like I am.

Somehow, we make it to homeroom before the bell. When we enter, she glares at me furiously. I smile. "See? If we hurry up, we'll make it." I point out. Meg and I take our designated seats, she's at the back row and I'm in the front for eyesight purposes.

Once I sit and out of breath, June whispers to me from the seat beside me. "Cutting it close, eh, Nick?" Her long hair droops down past her shoulders as she leans over.

June is my dancer friend. She's short and thin as a literal stick, and blonde. My only blonde friend, actually.

"Ha, you wish," I tease her, taking out my phone and unlocking it. I log into the school wifi and open my Wattpad app. June looks at my device and sighs.

"You are SO addicted to that thing." She states the obvious, making me smile.

The final morning bell rings and my homeroom teacher, Mr. Braydon walks in. "Hola." He announces as he sits. The class mumbles some kind of reply, clearly bummed that it's 8:15 in the morning. On a Monday.

He starts to call off names on attendance. "Quinn."

"Hola," Quinn's voice sounds from the other side of the room.

"Gabby."

"Here," I hear Gab's quiet voice behind me.

Gabriella is my quiet friend. We're both the quietest out of our entire friend group, but I always manage to make her laugh, and the same goes for me as well. She has long, light brown hair and pale skin, with cute glasses.

"James."

"Here," James says from the desk beside me.

Mr. Braydon reads down the list until he takes a sip from his coffee.

"Anna."

"Here," Anna murmurs.

Anna is my colorless friend. Literally. Her wardrobe is black and gray. But anyways, she is my artist friend. We both live drawing, so we're kind of close. She is also a Wattpadian like me. Along with her black clothes, she has long, dark hair, brown eyes, and brown skin.

The teacher continue to read down the list. I count the number of names in my head whilst reading. 25... 26... 27...

"Joey?" Mr. Braydon states just as Joey bursts through the door, visibly out of breath.

"...Here." She breaths as she walks to he desk with her head down in embarrassment.

And finally, Joanne. My always-late-to-school friend who has to take some kind of class at 6 in the morning and she can't have coffee afterwards. Yes, she's Mormon. She has shoulder length brown hair, brown eyes, and pale skin. She is my best friend in terms of personality. I've known her for three years and she's been a sister to me, with watching YouTube, playing games, eating bagels... even though she only watches vloggers on YT, I still love her. And she makes me laugh. GG no re.

"Nick."

"Here," My raspy voice surprises me and I clear it, causing everyone to look in my direction. Feeling their eyes on me, I put my head down on my desk, burying it in my arms.

And I'm the last one on the list. Yay for last names that start with 'Y'.

After a few minutes of idling, the clock strikes 20 after 8. "Hasta luego." Mr. Braydon announces. And no, he is not a Spanish teacher at my school, for some reason. He's actually the Social Studies teacher.

As everybody leaves the class, I catch a glimpse of Sam. He's some British kid with strawberry blonde hair who I kind of had a thing with earlier this year. But parents always ruin it all.

He avoids me eyes and avoid his. It's a thing we've had since we've gotten back from Winter Break. Not talking to each other, not looking at each other, not really caring about each other...

I hate being socially awkward.

Meg, Joey, and I make it to our Chem classroom. As we step inside, I notice Ms. Michaels on her phone. She was a replacement for our previous Chem teacher who had to go on maternity leave. So I've known her for a good two weeks. And now I have to start making a good first impression on her.

The three of us share a lab bench in the middle right of the class. Where we always sit.

While everyone takes their seats, Ms. Michaels leaves the class briefly. I shrug and open my binder, reviewing some notes from Friday. But I can't concentrate because Meg and Joey are having a loud conversation about Miranda Sings in my right ear, and all the popular athletes are yelling at eachother in my left. Man, my school is dysfunctional.

Thankfully, I notice Ms. Michaels walk in to the class with a boy. He has tanned skin, dark blue eyes, and swept brown hair. I've never seen him before. He's wearing a blue plaid shirt over a dark grey tee, with dark skinny jeans and converse. Nice style.

I can visibly see Ms. Michaels trying to get everybody's attention, but her attempts are useless at the amount of noise my class makes. I loudly whisper, "Shh..." in my class, until people around me be either quiet or copy me until the classroom is silent. That's how you do it, right there.

Ms. Michaels walks to the front with the boy. He looks around anxiously, his bag slung around his shoulder.

"Good morning, everyone," Ms Michaels exclaims, "Today we have a new student." She gestures towards the boy, who is standing slightly behind her. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the popular girls whispering into each other's ears. They disgust me.

Ms. Michaels continues. "This is Preston Lohouse."

-

Continue in Chapter 5...