Five Thirty

Ian new the first day of anything was difficult, and in most cases, insufferably boring. That didn't stop him from whining about it all morning.
"Ugh, I don't understand staying here all day. Can't we have a half day to get us back in the swing?" He grumbled, noticing that his sweater probably need a wash once he gosh home. His head was laying on his folded arms on his desk, turned towards his best friend Mia, who was presently doodling her signature on desk, marking it as hers. She did this every year with whatever class she had with Ian or Junno, and if she had neither, she'd find some way to end up in their class.
"Life sucks, Beez. Besides, this is the first year we'll be able to walk to school together and have first class together! Be happy that now you don't have to suffer through too long without me." She reasoned, patting Ian gently on the arm, being completely serious. He laughed, smiling a bit.
"Yeah, how do I stand going home without you there, Mama Mia?" Ian said dramatically, emphasizing 'stand'. Mia leaned back in her chair and sighed sympathetically,
"Oh, my wee babe, I haven't the slightest clue." They both laughed and Ian decided first days weren't always so terrible. Maybe just a little.

~

"Alright class, welcome to Ceramics II, I'm your teacher until Ms. Cowell comes back from maternity leave, which should be in the third week. My name is Mr. Hopkins, but you can call me Mr. H, Hopper, or Kinsmen." Ian for once didn't want to completely ignore his teacher. The man was tall, but young. Maybe twenty-five or thirty at most. He kinda looked like Chris Evans, in Ians' opinion. And his opinion also included that this teacher was definitely going to be his favorite.
"Now, I'm going to call role. If I call your name, please make some sort of confirmation." He started picking up the paper at the front podium. Ian glanced around, the ceramics room looks like any other art room. Walls covered in shelves and cabinets. Some were obviously drying racks, some held newspapers and magazines, some had boxes of tools. Cabinets undoubtedly had either pots and other crafts in them, or a ton of glaze. Ceramics and clay was one of Ian's strongest talents.
"Ian Bick?" His attention snapped back to his teacher and he reddened a bit under the older man's gaze.
"Ah, here." Ian offered a smile. He got one in return.
"I like your sweater. You got a full collection of his books?" Ian reddened again and looked down to re-check what he was wearing. 'Edgar Allen Hoe' was in big, white, blocky letters on his black sweater. The joke had been one in between him and Mia, because Ian loved the famous writer's works.
"Yeah, I do, actually. I've read him since I was very little." An approving smile.
"That's awesome. I love Edgar. His work is genius, I'm glad you think so too."
What Ian thought, in reality, was that his teacher was unbearably attractive.

~

Ian unfortunately, had no classes with Junno, but managed to find him at lunch.
"Ey, my little American friend." Ian was greeted with a deep voice and hard, rough pat on the back.
"Junno, hey. It sucks we haven't got a class together." Ian replied, slightly grimacing from the brief pain of their greet.
"Yes, that is true, however, Mia is a classmate in first, yeah?" He smiled, offering some sympathy. Ian nodded:
"Yeah, I'm sure that what we both want: Mia in first period." They both laughed, but both knew that the concept was very scary in reality. Mainly because Mia was unconditionally bi-polar on how she felt during the morning. One moment she could be her usual, peppy self, and the next she could curse your entire family line with herpes with one glance. It was slightly problematic when asking her for test questions.
"In any case, how about you? Got any interesting people in your classes?" Junno nodded as they both set down their backpacks at the lunch table and slid into the benches. He leaned forward, a less-than-happy grimace on his face.
"I have been punished by the gods to spend two whole class times with Ryan Jenko. This year's girlfriend edition is Elizabeth Goodwill, as he spent all class talking about the party they had where the met and, as I should say, 'hooked up'." Ian rolled his eyes at the thought.
Ryan Jenko was the school's typical popular guy. He wasn't super mean like in movies, he was just full of himself and kind of dumb. He had a new girlfriend every six weeks- if he managed to make it last that long. Ryan and Ian were friends in elementary, but once middle school started, he'd taken on a new role of 'hottie', and became off-limits to talk to.
"Fascinating. I have Cameron Wort in my APES class. And my ceramics teacher for the next three weeks is... Well let's just say Chris Evans is teaching me." Ian joked, and Junno laughed.
"Ian, you are so strange."

~

Getting home proved harder than he thought. Construction workers had shut off the entire street, and when ian tried to go on the sidewalks, he was shouted at angrily in Spanish. He took the long way home, which was a total of 30 minutes longer, and made him late for lunch. When he opened his front door, dropping his bag in the threshold, his mother's voice chimed from the kitchen:
"Ian, honey, you're late! We started lunch without you!" Ian sighed, and knew she was sad because that was the only meal he ate with them, but being late wasn't his fault.
"Sorry mom, but I have a ton of homework to do."
"You mean that summer assignment you forgot to do?" His mom called back accusingly. Ian didn't say anything back, but she was right. He hadn't touched that all break. He stepped onto the cream carpet, glancing through the living room and into the kitchen on the other side and saw the back on his moms head at the dining table and his step-dad. He took the second route, which was the stairs, and went up two steps at a time. He went into his room at the end of the hall, and locked the door. Nobody could bother him while he worked, or else he'd get nothing done.
His room was a dark blue color, and pretty much themed blue, green, and gray. He had a bunk-bed, but the bottom bunk had been taken out (courtesy of his step-dad), and the space filled with a handmade, wooden desk. His computer and monitor sat on top of it, and the rest of his room was shelves with books and figurines, and closet with the door open and clothes spilling out, and band posters with a variety of famous actors and actresses he liked.
He plopped down onto the ottoman in front of his desk, and logged in.
"Time to work..." He said less-than-excitedly. Twelve chrome tabs, a word document, and one window of IMing later, he was a third of the way done with that stupid essay.
"Augh... When was he born..." He mumbled to himself.
Ping!
The noise nearly scared him off his seat. The IMing window he had opened out of habit had pushed it's way to the top of his windows, and was blinking excitedly. He stared for a few moments before opening the chat. Weird, he thought, Junno and Mia only chat on weekends and before hangouts... He opened the message, which was from a user he didn't recognize.

-GunsButRoses says: Hi c:

Guns but roses? What the heck did that mean?

-LikeACuckooClock says: Uh, hi? Who is this?

Not the best user, but he couldn't be bothered to change it from his first decision a few years ago.

-GunsButRoses says: Heh, who cares. I'm bored. Who are you, is more important.

Ian narrowed his eyes. Oh god, he hoped it wasn't some creepy 30 yr-old man.

-LikeACuckooClock says: Yeah, no, sorry.

He clicked the users' name and selected 'block' from the list of options. That was scary, he thought. Creepy older men on websites always freaked him out. His computer made a quick distortion, suddenly, and-
Ping!

-GunsButRoses says: That was rude! I'm trying to be friendly and you just block me!

Ian stared in awe and gaping. He checked the options on the user again, and it still said they were blocked. But... Then how? He typed back quickly.

-LikeACuckooClock says: WHAT THE HECK how are you messaging me?

-GunsButRoses says: Magic, idiot. I said I was bored, so you'll be my pastime for now. Problem?

-LikeACuckooClock says: Uh, yeah! You're probably some perverted 30 yr-old man or something!

-GunsButRoses says: Completely rude. I'll glitch your computer out again if you keep insulting me.

Ian blinked. Glitch it out? Wait, had that been this person? Impossible, he couldn't have. Ian was on a personal network and wi-fi.

-LikeACuckooClock says: As if you could

He stared at the screen, wanting to add to it. Something like 'creep' or 'you pig-butt sniffing weirdo', but neither of those were a good idea. He waited. And waited. And-
Glitch. The screen turned into strips of pixels and spazzed around the screen before returning to normal after a few seconds.

-GunsButRoses says: Like I said
-GunsButRoses says: Oh and, you could just tell me who you are, or I could find out myself

Ian just gaped. The actual fucking hell. What on earth. How did this person? He couldn't wrap his mind around it. Maybe it had been a coincidence?

-LikeACuckooClock says: I... How did you do that?

-GunsButRoses says: Again, who important here cares? Nobody. I'm, however, very important, so tell me who you are.

-LikeACuckooClock says: Uhm... I'm Ian.

-GunsButRoses says: That all you gonna give?

-LikeACuckooClock says: Yep

-GunsButRoses says: Sigh, then I'll find out for myself.

And then the person stopped replying. Ian waited for nearly an hour, but no ping came from his speakers. He sat back in awe and stared. How peculiar, he thought. He didn't know what they meant by 'find out myself', but he probably didn't want to know anyways. He tried to not think about it, and went back to work.

Hours later, he had finished the essay and was getting ready for bed. In his bathroom and in his boxers, he drwosily stared himself in the eye and spat out the foamy toothpaste. He sighed.
Ping!