ɪ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ (Gareth x Reader)

I

"No man, I can't fucking do this project," Gareth said, throwing his English books into the depths of his locker. "Like, a cheerleader? How the fuck am I supposed to work with that?" He angrily started digging through his worn black bag.

"Bitch probably can't even fucking read..." he mumbled.

"Woah!" Eddie returned, bright eyed and somewhat taken aback, "a little far there, Gar." His tone was cool, and unbothered as he leaned into the locker next to Gareth's, his arms crossed.

"First, before we jump to any conclusions," Eddie was interrupted by one of the basketball players shouting, "Freak!" and he returned the favor by flipping him the bird. Eddie did not care for the boy's reaction, simply turning back to his unfinished sentence, "what is this cheerleader's name?"

Gareth slammed his locker shut, History textbook and notebooks in arms, "Y/N. Y/N L/N."

Eddie's eyes widened, "oh fuck, nevermind, dude. You're doomed." Eddie then gave out a small laugh of peer shock, "No, but, Y/N? As in the Y/N that runs with Jason's crowd? The Y/N that is commonly regarded familiar with Steve. Fucking. Harrington?"

"I told you." He fell back against the locker, rubbing his face with his free hand "The cheerleader, of course they pair me with the cheerleader... what- what do I do?" He sounded pitiful, in this state. Eddie raised his eyebrows in surprise at the sudden change in demeanor, his friend going from pure spite and anger to just plain at a loss. Eddie stared, inspecting him.

Eddie's known Gareth for a long time now. At least, a long time in High School standards. Two years, nearly three now. In all his time of knowing Gareth, Eddie had learned one thing above everything else with him, and it's this; Gareth hates those with too much money in their back pocket and teeth a shade too white. Or, in other words, he hated those at the top of the social food chain. And you wanna know one of the ones at the top? Y/N.

Gareth began walking to his left, towards his upcoming class. Eddie pushed off the locker and followed, his hands shoved in the pockets of his black skinny jeans. "You, uh, thought about asking the teacher to switch ya'?" Eddie proposed, eyes falling to his right.

Gareth snorted in response, adjusted the books tucked in his arm, "oh no, the thought never even crossed my mind... Of fucking course I asked the teacher to switch, but guess what? That asshole said that since they didn't have any problem with it, I would just have to suck it up. And only if an altercation occurred and 'both parties agree to it' is when I have a chance of working alone." Gareth sighed, blowing his bangs away from his face.

Eddie nodded, "sucks to be you man," was the only comment that he could muster. He did genuinely feel for Gareth, but he wasn't one to show sympathy too well.

"And, to top it all off, I have a history quiz today. Fuck." Gareth moaned, "ugh, see ya' man." Eddie brought up his hand for a fist bump, making an explosion noise as soon as Gareth begrudgingly gave him one back.

"Yeah, see ya,' dude," Eddie saluted goodbye, before walking off to who knows where, most likely to go play hooky. Gareth rolled his eyes at him. 

— 2 hours earlier —

Gareth usually had this head half buried under his left arm, as his right furiously scribbled along his yellowed notebook paper. Some of the things he had commonly drawn included 1. A simple, very easy to replicate electric guitar 2. Drum sticks that made a common recurrence on his papers  3. Practice graffiti that he'd later copy onto the bathroom stalls, and 4. Some poorly drawn stickmen replicating whatever occurred in the last D&D game.

Gareth knew that he, in no way whatsoever, had any artistic capability, it was just something he used to tune out the teacher, just sketched out things that came to mind.

However, right now, the pen had fallen from Gareth's hand. His eyes widened and his ears perked up as the two words left Mr. Widgers' mouth.

"Partner. Project."

The words rang around in Gareth's head, causing a panic to set itself deep in the pits of his stomach.

"Yes everybody, that's right. This semester's finals are a partner project. You'll be assigned a partner that I choose," a loud groan echoed across the room, "yes, yes, I know. Terrible." Mr. Widgers sarcastically sighed and turned to grab the chalk. He began to write quickly, furiously on the blackboard.

"You will first be choosing your topic, any of the novels I've printed out on a sheet that I'll be handing out at the end of class. They have plenty of each at the library here, I don't expect you to buy them.

"Then, using any of the novels, you will be making a presentation summarizing it that you will be showing to the class, as well as-" another groan echoed across the room, "I know, I know." Mr. Widger's cleared his throat, "as well as create an essay claiming something that you took from the book. I expect valid evidence, people!" Everyone rolled their eyes at him.

Gareth only half-heard everything that Mr. Widgers had said, his eyes glued on the blackboard that he wrote across. Gareth couldn't find his name yet, giving him a slight speck of hope left. Maybe the panic that had taken itself into his armpits meant nothing, maybe Mr. Widgers-

"Alright class, on the board I have written each of your groups, please copy this down at the top of the papers I'm about to hand you."

Gareth's world shattered as he looked at the board, his face devoid of all color. His fingers wrapped themselves in a fist, the knuckles white with how tight he held his grip. He couldn't tell what the name was for the mix of fury, frustration, and fear that mixed itself deep in his chest.

Gareth & Y/N

A cheerleader.

And one whose name was commonly said in the same breath as Gareth's sworn enemy, Jason Carver.

He felt your eyes in the back of his head, and turned, only enough to see you from the corner of his eye. He was greeted by you with a similar facial expression, your eyes glued on him with a look of fear and shock.

Oh boy.