Printer Boy (Connor Murphy x Fem!Reader)

1. Meet cute, but not really

Senior year. Senior year at a new school where I don't know anyone and nobody knows me. This fucking sucks.

I exhale loudly, not realizing I'd been holding my breath. Welp. Here we go. Into the belly of the beast. I swing open my car door, I'm parked at the back of the parking lot, where all of the empty parking spots are. My car stands out, alone, away from the large gaggle of cars that are parked near the courtyard. It's almost like the universe is sending me a sign. You're not like them. You're a freak. 

The short walk across the parking lot allows me to observe the students going into the building, rushing because the bell will signal the start of the school day any second now. I don't care if I'm late on my first day. I'll be late every other day too, they might as well get used to it. There's a boy, blue shirt, white cast over his broken arm, who hesitates for half a second before going inside. Almost like he's scared. Terrified, even. That's a great sign. Two girls stand in a huddle by one of the towering shrubs next to the entrance. They laugh loudly about something before one of them grabs the other by the elbow and pulls her inside. 

I freeze. Were they laughing at me? No, I mentally scold myself, they probably didn't even see me. Still, I pull my sleeves down a little lower and raise the hood of my jacket over my head as I speedwalk the rest of the way into the building, hands tucked in my pockets.

*itty bitty time skip cuz im a lazy b*

"Hi, I'm here for-" I start to say as I approach an older lady sitting at a desk in the front office. The air is stuffy, not quite unbreathable, but not comfortable either. It smells faintly of cheese.

"You're late." She interrupts, looking up from her computer. Her grey mass of curls bounces as she raises a disapproving eyebrow.

"Really? Wow, I didn't even notice." I say sarcastically. Too quickly. Too harsh. "Sorry, I mean, I'm new here I'm not really sure where to go." I awkwardly hold up my folded up schedule.

"Oh, you're Y/n, right? Y/n L/n?"

"Uhm. Yeah." I tuck the schedule back into my pocket.

"Alana," She calls to a girl in the corner, "Could you show her to her first class?" The girl, Alana, I presume, jumps up.

"Hi, Y/n, I'm Alana!"

*another lazy ass time skip*

"Here we go!" Alana says as we approach the door. She's so cheerful and chipper that it's almost creepy. Who's actually that happy? Like, ever?

"Thanks," I mutter, reaching for the handle. Alana grabs my wrist.

"Wait." She glances through the door, "There's this guy in your class. Connor Murphy. I just thought- well, not to gossip, but he has a bit of a short temper."

"So do I." I say dryly.

"No, I mean like, he threw a printer at his teacher in second grade." Alana looks deep into my eyes, her cheery exterior fading for just a second, "Just a heads up though!" She says quickly, her happy alter-ego blinking back on. I give her a half grunt half hum of acknowledgement and push the door open.

"Sorry. I was lost." I mutter as the entire class turns to stare.

"Yes, well." The teacher huffs, "I'd appreciate it if you don't interrupt my class next time you choose to be late." He gestures vaguely at the back of the room, "Take a seat next to Mr. Murphy."

Murphy. Connor Murphy. The printer kid. He glances at me for half a second as I slide into the desk next to his. He's good looking, I have to admit that. Strong jawline, long wavy hair. And his eyes. They're pretty, just like him, but they seemed... broken, like shattered glass. I wonder if my eyes look that way.

"What the fuck are you looking at?" He hisses.

"You, dumbass." I murmer back before I can stop myself.

"What'd you say to me?" His voice is louder now, and around half the class turns to stare. "You think I'm a freak don't you?" I'm frozen. Petrified. My goal was to fly under the radar, get some decent grades and run out of highschool faster than the fucking flash. And yet here I am. Less than a minute into my first class. With every single person staring at me. Yeah, so much for flying under the radar.

"Mr. Murphy." The teacher, I still don't know his name, says sternly from the front of the room. I can tell Connor's trying hard not to lose control. I've been there. I know what it feels like.

"Whatever." He seethes, sinking down in his desk chair.

"Sorry." I whisper, a few minutes later. He doesn't respond, just stares straight forward, although it doesn't seem like he's looking at anything at all.

A/N:

Thank you so much for reading my first chapter! That ending was absolute shit but we're not gonna talk about that. This story is written from the perspective of a female reader but if you have the brain power you can pretend the pronouns are whatever you feel like. Once again, tysm for reading pls vote if you enjoyed!

- Vale