Second Chances

Chapter I - Forced Acquaintances

The late bell rang just as a clumsy Eevee tumbled into the classroom at mach speed, face planting straight into the polished hardwood floor. He'd made it to class, just barely. The other students, already in their chosen seats, stared at him, who was still panting heavily from his bolting through the hallways and up two flights of stairs.

In a feeble attempt to save face, he quickly stood up straight and shook himself off, before looking around for an empty seat in the classroom which he could claim for the semester. There was one, on the end of a row near the front, next to a very odd Pokémon that caught his eye the moment that they met eyes. A Leafeon, evidently female; around her neck was swathed a disturbingly familiar scarf. It was a bright blue, like the sky on a summer morning, and crisscrossed with a bright white fishnet pattern. The very sight of it made his body tense; how she could have gotten it he didn't know.

The Pokémon herself, however, was distracting enough to forget; she was a calm mannered Leafeon, with an astonishing coloration to boot. Instead of a vibrant green foliage-like pattern that would normally embellish a Leafeon, she was emblazoned with blended shades of red, yellow, and orange, giving the stunning appearance of a deciduous tree in the Autumn, adorned with fiery leaves which flared with warm hues atypical of a Grass-type. Her eyes as well were equally charming, a mellow golden orange that told him more about her than anything that she could have said.

After a regrettably long span of time, he suddenly realized that he'd been staring, and quickly moved to take the empty seat. Almost as soon as he had sat down, the instructor entered the room; or, rather, spontaneously appeared at his desk, as most proficient Psychic-types tended to do. Mr. Gottfried, a stoutly mannered Xatu, was one of the few Psychic-types employed at the school, and had been a teacher there since the day it was founded. He specialized in literature, and had no trouble grinding it mercilessly into the students' brains and bones, especially since he could uncover what each and every student was thinking at any given moment. Many students passed his class that otherwise would not have with another instructor.

"Alright, class. I trust you've all read thoroughly through the class syllabuses I laid out on your desks..." Mr. Gottfried panned his gaze across the class with a knowing look that told everyone that he knew the exact opposite was the case. In truth, the neatly assembled packet of paper on the desk in front of him had completely passed from the Eevee's attention. He'd had Gottfried's class before, though, so he knew what to expect. Still, he couldn't help but feel guilty.

"Anyways... Over your summer break you were supposed to have read a certain book... but, whether you did or not is neither here nor there. What is important is that you understand its content and principles. So, I have your first assignment. You will be working with a partner. Each row of seats is four wide; those on the outer edges, turn inward. That is your partner. Now, some of you are facing friends. Some see strangers. Whether or not you know each other, you must work together on this assignment. I will know who puts in effort, and who does not. Work wisely, please. The details of the assignment are also on your desk."

Indeed, underneath the class syllabus was another paper, containing a bulleted list of instructions and a rubric on how it would be graded. To his left was Amber, the stunningly attractive Leafeon. By some whim of the universe, he would apparently be working with her.

Partner projects always terrified him; almost everyone wanted to do some kind of electronic presentation, and it usually took a whole lot of convincing to sway them otherwise. He just didn't have the means to do that, and if he didn't work on the project then he wouldn't get a score, and he may not even be able to graduate in a few months if it weighed enough on the overall grade.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the Leafeon glance at him. He met her gaze, which she responded to with a dismissing smile as she looked away. Great. He knew what that meant; she was uncomfortable. Something about him was getting under her skin. What that was wasn't clear, but it probably had something to do with the fact that he hadn't brushed, or really done anything with his fur other than wash it with water, for years, so he looked like a walking hairball.