The Bright Ones

2 | New Faces

I would be lying if I said I walked to Reeve and his friends with a skip in my step, but no. I didn't even really walk over there. It was more of a maybe if I walked slow enough they'd leave me alone type of thing. They didn't.

Once I got over there I was as stiff as a plank, but Reeve was so insistent. I wasn't particularly looking forward to being his roommate.

"Beau, I'd like you to meet the gentleman that has made this place bearable for me." The boys gave small sniggers at that. Reeve waved his left hand around dramatically before resting it in the direction of the boy standing next to him. I never noticed how young Reeve looked until he was standing by these older boys.

"This handsome lad is, Brodie Turner." Brodie was short. That was the first thing I noticed. He was short with fiery auburn hair. His skin was pale and His eyes were almost black. It was unnerving, but also made him more interesting.

Brodie gave a side smirk and stuck out his hand. Jesus, I hated meeting people. Not only did I have to talk to them, but I also had to perform the proper etiquette that society saw fit for these situations. I took Brodie's hand—not with a very manly grip—and we shook once before I pulled away.

Reeve carried the same dramatics over to the next introduction. "This is Dylan Madden," he said about the boy sitting. Dylan stood up and outstretched his hand. Before I shook it I took him in. Dylan had almost a bronze glow to his skin tone, maybe from Greek ancestry. He had just plain brown eyes but his eyelashes were so full that you almost couldn't look at his eyes. His hair was the color of his eyes with a few variations in natural highlights and he looked about my height, but maybe a little taller. The only flaw in this Greek god was the scar on his right eyebrow.

After I shook his hand it was finally time for the final introduction for hopefully awhile. "This, my dear roommate, is Fletcher." Just Fletcher.

Fletcher had caramel hair, the most stunning blue eyes I'd ever seen, his skin tone was fairly creamy, but that just made it easier to see the freckles that dusted the bridge of his nose and cheeks. He was taller than me, and I'm not just saying that because he was standing on the bench.

Fletcher didn't jump down to offer me a hand—he just smiled and nodded.

I gave him a smile and nod too. Probably the most genuine smile I'd given all day. In just a few short moments Fletcher had been able to tell that I wasn't a fan of this whole social thing.

I turned to Reeve who's smiled reached both his large ears. "Is that all? I have to find my classes."

Reeve nodded. "We'll find Lawrence later. Let me see your schedule." I pulled it out of the folder and handed it to Reeve. "You should go with Fletcher. Your classes overlap a little more. You'll see some of these hooligans in classes." He gave me my schedule back and waved goodbye. Brodie and Dylan did the same before following Reeve.

Fletcher hopped off of the bench with his hands in the pockets of his blazer. He gave me a smile before heading in the direction I  assumed our classes were located.

His chin was held high as we walked along the courtyard—his blue eyes going everywhere—taking in everything.

"So, Bo, you don't seem to be the social butterfly we are."

My head was not held high. I felt as if I was being watched by everyone and that made me want to just curl up and hide. As I looked around I noticed we were indeed being at least glanced at by almost everyone. I hoped it was t me so it had to be Fletcher. I should've known he was well known. If he was half as thoughtful to everyone like he was to me then it would be hard to forget him.

"Sorry," I practically mumbled.

"Don't apologize. It's good to know what makes you comfortable and uncomfortable."

I nod. "So, what year?"

I knew what he was doing. He was making friends, pointless conversation to pass the time. There were only two problems with that: 1) this was making time moving slower for me, 2) None of these facts I told him would matter because I was t planning on putting them to use.

"12."

"Oh great! You'll probably have some classes with Dylan. Brodie and I are year 13, and Reeve and Lawrence are year 11. You'll probably meet him at supper tonight."

"Brilliant." We went to our classes in mostly silence after that. Here and their Fletcher would explain the history behind a building or he'd point out staff members I should be wary of.

It turned out that we did have one class together: literature.

~•~•~•~

The dining hall at Winchester was lined with long tables horizontally and a table for the teachers. I never went back to the dorms so not sitting with Fletcher, Reeve, Dylan, and Brodie would've been a little rude, not to mention difficult.

I took my place on the bench in between Fletcher and Reeve. Dylan sat across from Fletcher, Brodie across from Reeve, and a new boy was across from me.

Reeve nudged my arm. "Beau, this is Lawrence Lewis."

Lawrence had thin wire glasses that framed his green eyes. His hair was golden and combed over. His skin was slightly tanned and his face was covered in light freckles.

Lawrence sips his drink before acknowledging the introduction. "Good to meet you Blue . . . ?"

My hands haven't moved from my thighs where they rest flat. "It's Beau; Beau Mitchell."

"My apologies," Lawrence coos as he sets his glass down. "I also should apologize about your current room situation. Reeve can be a bit much." They all laugh at that; even Reeve. I don't. I just nod—letting my hair become more unmanageable—and wish I was back home. Or at least Riley was here with me.

The clinking and clanking of dishes, barks and laughs, stomps and claps all become white noise after only a moment. I'd gotten so used to running people out at my old school. Mum said it wasn't very polite, but I thought there was no use in listening if it didn't have to do with me.

I felt something lightly knock my foot, but I thought it was an accident, and ignored it. It happened again—harder this time—and when I looked next to me Fletcher was already halfway out of his seat. I watched him a bit confused than the rest of the guys, but none of them were paying attention. I slowly followed him up and out of the dining hall almost certain this wasn't allowed during mealtime.

I thought he was going outside, but then he headed toward a staircase. After three flights of stairs and crawling out a window, we were sitting on the roof, fletching handing me a cigarette.

"Thanks," I rasp. I hadn't realized my throat was so dry, and this chilly weather wasn't helping. I try to clear my throat as Fletcher lights my cigarette. It's about to get a lot harder to breathe, but I need this.

Fletcher lights himself one and then we sit there—on the roof smoking—in silence. The only sound that can be heard is the faint buzz of insects and the even fainter chatter from the dining hall.

Fletcher shifts and I can't help but become acutely aware of his movements. Once again if Riley were here I wouldn't be so on edge. "Something the matter, Bo? Homesick already?"

I shrug and take a bother drag. "You could say that."

Fletcher chuckled. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure we're all sick of home, too."

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Here's another chapter! A new chapter of crash and burn is on its way too! Thank you for the support and reads, you know who you are!😁