The Nockfell Complex (Sal fisher + 2 others x reader)

Teenagers

After your run-in with Travis Phelps, school went off without any problems. Besides gathering various school books and mutual complaining about the weight shared between you and the group. The five of you would walk together until you would come to a point where you would need to split off, but a majority of the time, someone else was walking with you until you had to leave them to enter your class.

This time, it was you and Larry, walking shoulder to shoulder on your way to Pottery, and on his way to Biology. On the way, Larry was complaining to you about the class, grunting. "The teacher's an ass in the morning. Be glad you don't have him until lunch. I hear he smokes during lunch."

"You would too, dealing with kids like us." You snort. In return, Larry sarcastically laughs, before bumping a fist into your shoulder.

"Sure, sure. But for real, what kinda guy can't keep his cool for three hours?"

"The same kind that complains about an hour-long class?"

"My complaints are appropriate, I'm young."

"You don't see me complaining." You retort.

"It's your first day. Give it a week."

Then comes the change of subject as you watch your feet while you walk. "Are you really cool with me meeting your mom? It feels weird. I dunno- just- you know what, ignore me. I'm on some nonsense right now." In response, Larry knocks a fist into your shoulder.

"Psh! It's no deal, you're getting yourself worked up over it, my mom's gonna be dead-set on spoiling you like she does Sal." When you laugh in surprise, he snickers away. "I mean, shit! My chair's spilling out stuffing and she got Sally a new one too! Bonkers!"

"Well I'm sure he's like the son she never had." You croon mockingly, and Larry punches at your shoulder again softly. "Har har. You're a riot."

"Sorry, want me to play a different way?" You ask, and before giving him the chance to respond, you lay a hand around the back of his neck with a dramatic sigh. "You're just such a gentleman for walking me to the class two doors down from Biology, Johnson!"

"Ew, what! Don't go around calling me Johnson! That is so weird."

"It's funny!"

Though, unfortunately, at some point, the two of you had to split your ways as you entered Pottery and waved Larry off with a laugh.

Pottery. It really never was a class you would've expected yourself to take. It sounded messy, and it was messy, from what you knew at the very least. The room was decorated neatly with sculptures of past students at all four corners. Some were vases with pretty designs cut and glazed onto them, others were of odder things. A wolf, A man standing. A large tree decorated with shiny glazed scarlet bulbs. Some were even plastic-looking flowers, carved to look realistic beside their shiny gleam. The teacher who greets you on your way in was a tall, thin, gangly-looking young man. Brunette, clean-shaven, with wide eyes staring straight through you as he directs you to an empty seat. He introduces himself as Mr. Sallow, and informs you that "You won't receive any books for this class, nor will you be asked for research. This class is based on imagination and imagination only. I will have you reach-" he makes a dramatic gesture, "-to the deepest parts of your psyche to grasp your art form!" With that, he sits with a calm smile. "But for now, we start with the art of clay and maintaining its stability upon the table."

As he speaks, a blonde boy sitting to your left of you slowly turns his head to take a look at you. There really was no mistaking the nasally scoff that left him... Neither was there missing the quiet remark.