Doesn't Know

1.6

Edited/Rewritten

School dragged on like molasses in January, every class blending together in an endless haze of boredom. By the time seventh period rolled around, Y/n was more than ready for a reprieve, even if it meant feigning interest in Earth Science.

The teacher, a wiry woman with perpetually disheveled hair, stood at the front of the room, her tone brisk but earnest. "Climate change is one of the biggest challenges humanity faces today," she said, scrawling Reduce Your Carbon Footprint on the board in bold, uneven letters.

Y/n twirled her pen absentmindedly, her gaze drifting toward the clock.

A gentle tap on her shoulder made her glance sideways. Rodrick leaned over, smirking.

"Princess," he whispered, his voice low enough to go unnoticed. "My band's rehearsing today. Would you come watch? For... inspiration."

Y/n raised an eyebrow. "Inspiration, huh? You already know the answer. I'm coming to your house anyway."

Rodrick grinned, satisfied. "Knew you couldn't resist."

The teacher's voice interrupted their whispered exchange. "Y/n L/n, any suggestions for reducing carbon footprints?"

Her eyes widened as every head in the room turned toward her. "Uh..." She fumbled for an answer, heat rising to her cheeks. "Maybe... waste less food? Like, only take what you can eat?"

The teacher nodded approvingly. "Exactly. Reducing food waste is an important step."

Y/n sighed in relief, slumping back in her seat as Rodrick muffled a laugh beside her.

...

The familiar cacophony of guitar riffs, basslines, and Rodrick's relentless drumming filled the garage. Y/n sat perched on a battered couch near the back, her head bobbing along to the chaotic rhythm.

The band paused mid-song, and Rodrick tossed a broken drumstick onto his stool before striding over to her. "Come on," he said, offering her a hand. "Gotta grab a new stick."

She rolled her eyes playfully but took his hand, letting him pull her to her feet. "You really need to start carrying spares."

Rodrick smirked. "Where's the fun in that?"

They climbed the stairs to his loft-like room, but the moment they reached the top, Rodrick froze, groaning loudly.

"What's wrong?" Y/n asked, peeking past him.

Rodrick pointed to his room, where Greg and Rowley were sprawled out on the floor like they owned the place.

"Didn't I tell you two not to go in my room?" Rodrick growled, his tone dripping with exasperation.

Greg sat up, his face pale. "I thought you were with the band!"

"It's the bass solo, turd burglar," Rodrick snapped. "Don't you know anything about music?"

Rowley shrieked, "Run!" before launching himself at Rodrick's leg.

"Let go, baby hippo!" Rodrick barked, shaking him off as Y/n stifled a laugh.

"Dude," she said, raising an eyebrow at Rodrick, who rolled his eyes.

The boys didn't wait for a second warning, scrambling out of the room and down the hall.

Rodrick sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Why do I even bother?"

"Because deep down, you love them," Y/n teased, earning a scoff from him.

...

After the minor chaos upstairs, Y/n wandered into the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out a juice box. She slammed the straw into the tiny hole at the top and took a long sip, savoring the brief silence.