Assassin's Creed Modern One Shots

Another Frye-day // part one

A/N: Wanted to get something out before I have to go back to school tomorrow, and I'm finally adding the Frye twins! This short chapter is meeting Jacob, the next will be meeting Evie and after that I'll have a pile of preferences to upload. Much love xox

"____, this is a classroom not a hair salon, leave Connor's hair alone and do your work." Your teacher's posh British accent scolded you. Releasing the styled, chocolate lock of hair, you rolled your eyes, only allowing it to temporarily skim across the trigonometry questions you were meant to be working on.

"But, Mister, I wasn't —"

"I won't ask again: do your work. You still have another hour left of this period and I'm not letting you waste it on braiding your classmate's hair," he retorted flatly, blue-green irises narrowing yet persistently wrestling for you to obey.

"But, Mister Lee —" you burbled feebly, searching for some excuse so you could return fire.

"But nothing, ____. Move over there. Now." Was the snap you were given, and so you ascended from your comfortable spot next to Connor and migrated to a new seat entirely. Connor sent you a heartbroken grimace as you were forcibly edged to the other end of the room. Tearing you and Connor apart was like splitting a mother from her child, or separating twins at birth. It was vile, you both knew and immediately when you settled in your new seating arrangement, you felt abandoned. You pouted and blew a pathetic kiss in Connor's direction, then scowling at Charles Lee whilst his back was turned to scrawl something on the whiteboard.

"You know, if you wanted to become a hairstylist, practising on your mate there would be better than doing maths. I mean, when are you going to need bloody trigonometry in everyday life? It's not like I'm not going to be allowed to buy a pizza if I can't figure out the angle of this triangle." Setting your bag down on the floor, you barked a laugh at your fellow student's honesty, catching a glimpse of them gesticulating at the photocopied page.

"You have a point though." Shaking your head, you chose not to make eye contact with them. You knew who they were and thought yourself below the ranks of them. 'Them', you meant Jacob Frye, leader of a popular group in your school called the Rooks. Everyone knew his name, his face, his syndicate or all of the above; essentially famous — or infamous, depending on how you perceived him — among other students.

If you had to be completely honest, Jacob was the kind of person that really got on your nerves. Sure, you couldn't deny he was gorgeous in his shamelessness, but he was just so irritating. And in your books, that outweighed his looks by a tonne. He was the boy whose squawking voice travelled throughout the school grounds, whose misdirected pens, paper — even his phone once — were thrown at you on multiple accounts. In this maths class alone.

"Have I seen you before? Sorry, I didn't mean for that to sound strange, but I feel like I know you from somewhere." He proceeded to blabber on, hazel eyes fixed on the pencil he was balancing between his nose and upper lip. "Jacob Frye, my pleasure, love."

"____," you responded with your name, pretending to solve question four on your worksheet as Lee patrolled the room, marching and stopping by to guard his post. Once his back was turned, you spoke a little lower. "What do you want?" Your voice level and firm, maybe a little more harsh than it sounded in your head. Jacob wasn't repelled by it at all, that, or he was dafter than you bargained for.

"Just a bit of conversation, anything to keep me from getting bored in this ward of legal torture." Finally getting the pencil level where he was balancing it, it appeared to pose as a faux moustache. He mocked Mister Lee by deepening his voice and saying, "Today I'm going to teach you useless skills and steal all your happiness. Do your work, ____, don't make me call your caregivers."