My Teenage Dream' Chapter 1
“Hey, Xavier!”
Nope. Nope. Nope.
Not good.
Not good at all.
Charles had sighed, mustering up all his courage as he pushed open the gates to the corridor to his classroom. Another day in hell. But that’s okay, because he actually liked studying, the knowledge he received in this hellhole called high school. Not that he would ever announce that nerdy piece of information out loud, because frankly speaking, he believed that no one else in this entire three storey building ever came to school to study. Just high school stuff, you know? Parties, sex, fist-fights, et cetera, et cetera. Just a phase they had to go through.
But not Charles. He wanted to study, to learn, to know. He was only stuck in this small school in this small town because of his mother’s job. He always dreamed of studying in Havard or Cambridge, just imagine the excellent quality of classes there! But that meant six more months of high school. Charles could tolerate that. He had been doing, all these years, after all.
Keeping his head down, he had increased his pace, as he crossed a group of his classmates. He liked studying, so there must be a reason he thought high school was hell. It was, the people. He didn’t understand what their problem with him was. Sure, maybe he liked attending his classes, and spending his time in the library instead of bunking them and living in the canteen or football field. Maybe he didn’t understand the latest fashions and kept to his comfortable sweaters. Maybe he wasn’t interested in dating and having his heart broken. But he had done nothing to offend them! So why would anyone bother him? He could never understand people. So the best he could do was keep to himself.
He thought that maybe, just maybe, they would just ignore him this time.
Or not. It was Shaw’s voice, just one of the football jocks. Charles paused, and turned to them. Nothing good could come out of this.
“Listen up, Charlie boy,” Shaw called again. He walked up to him, placing an arm around Charles’ petite frame.
“Say, are you planning on joining the gym?” The jock asked, tone serious.
“Wh-what?” Charles asked, confused.
“Why, with all that weight lifting you’re doing, I think you’d win the Olympics!” Shaw said, pointing at the think volumes of Higher Mathematics and Genetics Vol. III that Charles was struggling to carry. Sure, those books were at least three inches thick, but that wasn’t such a big deal. The way Shaw said it though… Charles could almost taste the sneer. Shaw’s group of douchebags gave roaring laughter, as if they’d heard something really funny.
“Actually I-” Charles gave an awkward half-laugh-half-shrug, “I uhm, have to go to, erm, you know, my class.” He squirmed out of Shaw’s grip, hurrying away from the group.
“Leaving so soon, Charlie?” asked Janos. He was in front of Charles in an instant. “Aren’t you feeling hot? What’s up with this sweater of yours? Would you like me to strip it off you?” The athlete asked, winking.
Charles stepped back, feeling a blush rising to his ears. “I-uh…”
“Relax Janos!” came Shaw’s voice from behind him. “Give Xavier some time, let him finish his gym classes first. Maybe he’d have something to show off then?”
More laughter, and Charles looked down, blushing hard. He needed to get out of there, and quickly.
“Uh, huh, my apologies, but I really have to leave,” he mumbled, hurrying out of the way. The further he could go, the better. He moved ahead without looking back. Just as he was rounding a corner, sighing a breath of relief, he walked into someone.
Paper flew out of his hands, the books slipped away, and he fell down, landing on top of his assailant. (It was his fault really, so maybe he was the assailant himself.) Ignoring the shouts of exclamation and surprises from around him, (and of course "watch where you walk, four-eyes!" and "there goes Xavier again!") he opened his eyes to face shocked, steely grey eyes looking into his.
Nope. Nope. Nope.
Not good.
Not good at all.
Charles had sighed, mustering up all his courage as he pushed open the gates to the corridor to his classroom. Another day in hell. But that’s okay, because he actually liked studying, the knowledge he received in this hellhole called high school. Not that he would ever announce that nerdy piece of information out loud, because frankly speaking, he believed that no one else in this entire three storey building ever came to school to study. Just high school stuff, you know? Parties, sex, fist-fights, et cetera, et cetera. Just a phase they had to go through.
But not Charles. He wanted to study, to learn, to know. He was only stuck in this small school in this small town because of his mother’s job. He always dreamed of studying in Havard or Cambridge, just imagine the excellent quality of classes there! But that meant six more months of high school. Charles could tolerate that. He had been doing, all these years, after all.
Keeping his head down, he had increased his pace, as he crossed a group of his classmates. He liked studying, so there must be a reason he thought high school was hell. It was, the people. He didn’t understand what their problem with him was. Sure, maybe he liked attending his classes, and spending his time in the library instead of bunking them and living in the canteen or football field. Maybe he didn’t understand the latest fashions and kept to his comfortable sweaters. Maybe he wasn’t interested in dating and having his heart broken. But he had done nothing to offend them! So why would anyone bother him? He could never understand people. So the best he could do was keep to himself.
He thought that maybe, just maybe, they would just ignore him this time.
Or not. It was Shaw’s voice, just one of the football jocks. Charles paused, and turned to them. Nothing good could come out of this.
“Listen up, Charlie boy,” Shaw called again. He walked up to him, placing an arm around Charles’ petite frame.
“Say, are you planning on joining the gym?” The jock asked, tone serious.
“Wh-what?” Charles asked, confused.
“Why, with all that weight lifting you’re doing, I think you’d win the Olympics!” Shaw said, pointing at the think volumes of Higher Mathematics and Genetics Vol. III that Charles was struggling to carry. Sure, those books were at least three inches thick, but that wasn’t such a big deal. The way Shaw said it though… Charles could almost taste the sneer. Shaw’s group of douchebags gave roaring laughter, as if they’d heard something really funny.
“Actually I-” Charles gave an awkward half-laugh-half-shrug, “I uhm, have to go to, erm, you know, my class.” He squirmed out of Shaw’s grip, hurrying away from the group.
“Leaving so soon, Charlie?” asked Janos. He was in front of Charles in an instant. “Aren’t you feeling hot? What’s up with this sweater of yours? Would you like me to strip it off you?” The athlete asked, winking.
Charles stepped back, feeling a blush rising to his ears. “I-uh…”
“Relax Janos!” came Shaw’s voice from behind him. “Give Xavier some time, let him finish his gym classes first. Maybe he’d have something to show off then?”
More laughter, and Charles looked down, blushing hard. He needed to get out of there, and quickly.
“Uh, huh, my apologies, but I really have to leave,” he mumbled, hurrying out of the way. The further he could go, the better. He moved ahead without looking back. Just as he was rounding a corner, sighing a breath of relief, he walked into someone.
Paper flew out of his hands, the books slipped away, and he fell down, landing on top of his assailant. (It was his fault really, so maybe he was the assailant himself.) Ignoring the shouts of exclamation and surprises from around him, (and of course "watch where you walk, four-eyes!" and "there goes Xavier again!") he opened his eyes to face shocked, steely grey eyes looking into his.