Steam Punk Goggles and Ink Stained Hands

DREW’S POV

~

It was the first day of term; I was back in this “place of learning” (the principle and I had a little disagreement over the name. I called it hell, he called it high school, I pointed out that that’s a distinction without a difference) and the only light in that rather gloomy tunnel was that my first lesson was actually rather enjoyable.

Art. My timetable stated in small black printed letters. I should've enjoyed it while I had it, because after it I have maths, history and various other subjects which make me want to slam my head repeatedly into the graffiti covered desks.

I readjusted my back pack and made my way to my lesson, which just happened to be on the top floor of the building. It’s not that I don’t like exercise, it’s just that climbing two flights of stairs is effort on a Monday morning and really didn’t put me in a good mood to start the day off with.

The shrill bell rang signalling the start of class just as I stepped through the door; good thing I came when I did, a minute later and I would have been dealing with Mr. Jace, who enjoys nothing more than handing out detentions whenever possible.

The first day of term meant new seating plans, so nobody bothered to sit in their old seats (we had seating plans in most lessons which sucks hard but as the year progressed the teachers always got less and less specific about where you sat. They just did it in the beginning to please the inspectors). The mass of students crowding round the door was therefore not a surprise to me; I was however, surprised to see a man in his late twenties standing behind Mr Jace’s desk.

He stopped sorting through the papers in his hands when he realised we were all standing in the doorway not moving.

“You know you can sit down, right?” He asked us with a nervous smile.

“We have a new seating plan at the start of the term, where’s Mr Jace?” someone asked from the back of the bundle.

“Seating plan?” the black haired teacher raised an eyebrow. “Well that’s no fun, creativity doesn’t come with being organised and told what to do, it comes with making your own choices and decisions. Come on in and sit wherever” he said, gaining more confidence as the class happily complied. “Oh, and I’m Mr Way by the way, I’ll be your art teacher from now on” he added.

As everyone started to file in I glanced at the new teacher.

Black hair, red and black ripped skinny jeans, black shirt and leather jacket.

He seems cool enough. He definitely looks a lot cooler than Mr Jace and he’s also already kinder. This should be good.

I looked around the class to find most desks already taken except for a couple nearer the back where the lighting wasn’t as good. I made my way a bit begrudgingly but dealt with it because it was that or the floor. As I approached the last free table, I realised that one of the seats was already occupied by a boy who I hadn’t noticed before from the front.

'Actually, I don’t think I’ve noticed him anywhere before…' I thought as I gazed at him, trying to fit his face to one of the many I see every day at school but failing.

Maybe he’s new? I wondered, before realising he couldn’t be as if you enter the school you spend the first two days of your first year being shown what goes on here, you don’t just start the lessons immediately.

“Um, hi!” I said as reached the table, “can I sit here?” I asked the boy who was clutching a sketchbook on the desk in front of him.

He turned towards me and his eyes widened slightly as he noticed my presence.

“Yeah, sure” he gave me a brief and almost forced looking smile before fixing his eyes on the desk again.

I studied him from the side; his sand coloured hair fell just above his shoulder and glasses sat on the edge of his nose. His long fingers held the sketchbook delicately and his slim figure was shown by the band tee he was wearing.

He’s actually really cute! I thought before mentally reprimanding myself. I really shouldn’t be thinking like that! Still, he is undeniably good looking.

I smiled slightly as I realised I was probably not going to get much done in this class with him sitting next to me. Not because he seemed like he was going to intentionally distract me but because I had a feeling that no matter how much I tried to concentrate on what Mr Way was teaching, I knew my thoughts were just going to go back to him.

Realising I didn’t ask his name, I introduced myself.

“Hey, I’m Drew” I said warmly, wanting him to relax his guarded stance a little.

He looked up at me again and studied me as if trying to work out my motive for talking to him.

“I’m Shane, but I go by Barrone” he replied, his expression was definitely guarded, though I couldn’t see why. I wasn't threatening him at knife point or anything, I was just being friendly.

“Cool” I said, before turning my attention to Mr Way, who had started to run us through what topics we would be covering this term.

~

BARRONE’S POV

~

Oh great. Just brilliant.

Why can’t everyone just leave me alone? Don’t get me wrong, Drew seems nice, it’s just that now I have yet another person I’m going to look like an idiot in front of! Everyone in my old classes just got used to me, now one questioned it, I was just the weird kid. Now this boy’s come over who seems genuinely nice and doesn’t just ignore me and I’m going to ruin any chance of us being friends within the last five minutes of the lesson because he’ll think I’m a creep. To make matters worse, we have a new teacher who probably won’t have any idea what’s going on until another teacher takes pity on him and explains.

No matter what though, one thing is certain. I need to do something later on that’s just enough to earn myself detention by the end of this lesson, I need to.