Nutrition class, as always, is terrible. Their class is filled with a bunch of idiots, many of which don't know how to cook.Of course, they're stuck with 4 kids who know nothing. It's hard to keep their temper.
"Four 'kwee-air ah tee'... what does that mean again?" One of them asks. They breathe in through their nose in effort to calm themself, and plaster on a smile.
"Quatre cuillère à thé de l'huile. Four tea spoons of oil."
"Oh... ok."
The class drags on. Everyone bustles around in the kitchen until it's time to clean up. There's a gross odor of burnt something or other coming from the oven as they wash their hands once, twice, three times.
History is semi-interesting. Nothing really happens, except for Emothy's blatant glaring. They've got to fix that, eventually.
If not to fix things, why are they here?
Really, that is their job. They listen to people's stories and try to offer help, yet the minute they mess up, they're done, and there's no coming back. They fix things.
It's just what they do.
Maybe that's why their whole situation is so frustrating, so saddening. They can fix problems for other people, yet they can't fix the big mess they've gotten themself into.
The bell goes, and they rush out of the classroom. It's quite awkward, really, sitting by themself every day now.
As they look for a place to sit (one where they won't get garbage thrown at them) their phone buzzes.
It's a text from Glueboy.
They freeze.
If things get worse... if he's finally done, he's done with Finch and their bullshit, he wants to stop being friends... they don't know what they'll do.
He's probably fed up. He's probably so, so done with how they fuck everything up. He's probably bored, and he's probably moved on in the short time they hadn't talked.
They open the message.
GB: come to the courtyard. it's an emergency.
They stare for a second.
...What?
Out of all people, why would Glueboy ask them to come help if it was an emergency? They had barely talked. Finch assumed he didn't ever want to talk again.
They go anyways.
They sprint, because if he's in trouble, if he's not okay, they they aren't there... the friendship is definitely gone.
They couldn't handle that.
They aren't one to run. Their chest heaves as they fly towards the courtyard, a deep feeling of dread settled in their stomach, because what if he's not okay?
They slam through the doors to the courtyard, and catch Glueboy's eyes on him, though he tries to play it off, tries to pretend he's only looking at his phone, but he's much to slow. By the time his eyes meet his screen, Finch is already standing in front of him.
They can feel a bit of sweat forming above their eyebrows, and they breathe shallow breaths.
"Hey." They start. Glueboy is trying to avoid their eyes, though theres a determination in them. God, what did they walk into?
"Hi." He replies. It's quiet. He doesn't want to be speaking to them, does he? "We should probably talk about the situation."
He's mumbling, speaking almost so quietly that they can't hear his words, but they manage to make them out. They sit down beside him on the rocks in the courtyard. For once, there aren't other ears listening.
YOU ARE READING
a finch with a broken wing
Fanfictionfinch, marquess of stanleyshire, and their uphill battle to normalcy. a spin-off of "fake it til' you make it" by iheartchrisevans69