it was you on that early morning || karlnap fanfiction

monday

It was a rather calm afternoon, when Karl was nearly hit by a football.

That's right, a whole as football coming out of nowhere, just missing him by an inch.

In shock he had dropped his greek book to raise his hands to cover his face, but as soon as he felt safe, he dropped them again.

Some meters away a group of guys started laughing.
One of them ran towards Karl, a dorky smile on his face.

"Sorry 'bout that!", he yelled, laughing, as he went past Karl to get the football.

Karl bent down, picking up his book.
The guy stopped by him, placed one hand on his shoulder.

"My friend Nick threw that one.", he said, as if he was proud of him.
Karl looked up and he instantly knew who this Nick-guy was. He was surrounded by other players of the team, a of them laughing and congratulating him for his throw. Nick wasn't as tall as the others, but he was prettier. His smile would have looked nice, if he wouldn't have just tried to hit Karl with a ball.
"Tell him he is a dick, will ya?"

The blonde laughed, patted his shoulder.
"Sure!"

Karl brushed his hand off of his shoulder and walked towards the building.

Why did sports people always think it was their world, with everyone else just existing in it?
Karl would probably never understand that.

But now he didn't really need to understand, what he did need to understand was Greek.

He sat in his late afternoon class, that he just took because he needed to fill his missing hours.
Greem wasn't his strong suit, but it was clearly better than the spanish lessons his friend George visited.

"Karl! Are you paying attention?"
"Yes, you were just talking about how philosophy uses lots of greek terms."

The teacher looked at him in surprise.
"Good."

He proceeded his monologue and Karl took some notes, when the words 'exam' and 'relevant' fell.

His teacher trailed off multiple times during the lesson, just talking about how amazing Greek was, even if there were barely students willing to learn it.

When the bell finally ended the lesson, Karl left as one of the first ones. He couldn't wait to go home.

He was tired. Exhausted even.

Quickly he walked to the parking lot, got into his car and then he finally relaxed in the seat of his beloved Fiat Fiesta.

He put his seatbelt on, turned the key and soon he was on his way back home.

Quietly he hummed to the melody of the songs playing in the radio, enjoyed his peace and quiet.

And then his mind started to wander.
Nick was a real dick.
Why would you throw a ball at someone?

To be fair, under different circumstances Karl would have said he had pretty privilege, but we were talking about a football, out of leather, that would have probably left a mark in his face for days, if it had really hit him.

So pretty privilege wouldn't even apply really.

The more Karl thought about it, the more familiar he felt with Nick.
As if he had seen him before, even if he hadn't a single class with him.

Karl just brushed it off, settled on the plausible explanation of seeing him around in the halls or something. 

When he arrived at home, saw his mum leaving the house.
A bag over her shoulder, keys in her right hand.