True Identity { A H2OVanoss Story }

Chapter Two

Even though the buses are an absolute pile of steaming shit, the school is very posh and fancy. White house fancy. Too fancy for Jonathan's liking. The front of the school is dominated by huge, white buildings with tinted windows. Neatly trimmed, green bushes hide behind the curly, bronze fences. The gate is what Jon pictures the pearly gates to look like. Huge. The main office screams 'professional business' not 'pretentious highschool'. Seriously, it doesn't hurt to tone it down a bit.

A chic lady dressed in a sophisticated black dress sits behind the desk, typing away on her, surprisingly, outdated computer. Jon clears his throat loudly to grab her attention. Her head whips up, her name tag reads 'Lucy'.

"Welcome to Crosswell Secondary Collage, how may I help you?" Her voice is too cheerful for this time of the morning.

"Hi, my name's Jonathan Smith and I was told I need to come to the office to receive my timetable." Wow, this school is already influencing Jon. He never speaks with that type of vocabulary.

"Ah! Yes, you're the new kid from North Carolina, right? It's great to meet you!" Her posh facade melts away, leaving a bubbly young girl, fresh out of collage. She sticks her tiny hand over the counter, waiting for Jon to shake it. He does. Her hands are soft. The printer buzzes, ejecting his new timetable.

"You must be quite the hotshot to get in these subjects. Congrats." She passes Jon the piece of paper, then sees what she was talking about. Advanced subjects, sweet, Evan told him that he's in the advanced subjects one night when he was feeling particularly giddy. Alcohol, maybe? Who knows what those boys have gotten him into. He thanks the lady and start walking towards locker bay D.

"Haha, the D," Jon mutters to himself, lightly chuckling as his feet thump against the pavement.

The lockers aren't kept very well. There's rubbish everywhere, the floorboards are rotting and the roof looks like it's going to cave in. Jon ignores the rancid smell of rotting food and finds his locker, D420. What are the odds? He shoves his black bag into his locker, and before he has time to lock it, his phone rings. The caller I.D. says it's him. Jon's ringtone plays super loud, causing a couple of people to turn their heads to the source of the obnoxious noise. Jon answers it quicker than a flash, and walk away to a more private area.

"Hello? Del?" Evan asks, his honey sweet voice melting Jon's insides to goop.

"Evan! What's up? Why are you calling? I'm at school," Jon replies, trying to sound busier than he truely is. He just doesn't want Evan to turn a corner and find Jon standing there talking to him. That would be...awkward.

"No reason. Except that Tyler told me you moved. Where did you move to?" Evan pounces on him. Oh no...oh no, oh no, this is bad. Extremely bad. Shit.

"It's a surprise motherfucker!" Jon exclaims, laughing. Evan laughs alongside Jon. God, that sweet laugh has Jon falling for him all over again.

"Ok, whatever you say Delirious. But, if it's a surprise, does than mean I can finally meet you in real life?" Jon was about to answer 'no', but he heard Evan coming around the corner. FUCK!

"Nope! Gotta go, bye!" Jon rushes out, hangs up and slams the phone back into his denim pocket. He runs back to his locker to see Evan turning the corner out of his peripheral vision.

Jon gets back to his locker to find all his stuff sprawled across the flooring. The gross, revolting flooring. Shit, he forgot to lock it. Jon drops to the floor and stacks all the books in his locker upright, the way he previously had them arranged. He lifts more of them up and was about to put them in when someone knocked them out of his hands, spewing them everywhere.

"Hey Jonny, you're in the way of my locker," Evan elbows him, and sends him toppling over. What the actual fuck?

"You could say please next time," Jon speaks up so he can hear me. He locks his icing eyes with Evan's menacing ones, there was a hint of regret deep in his eyes that Jonathan almost missed. Jon hopes he never sees Evan's eyes that angry yet that distraught ever again.

***

What did he just say? Evan looks down at the boy sitting on the ground,  glaring right up at him with his piercing blue eyes. Evan takes a deep breath. This kid is surprisingly defiant, and Evan admires that, but he's a little ticked off. Evan is known at this school for having a short temper, his handsome looks and beating people up if they mess with him, but it's peer pressure. Anyone who really knows Evan knows that he is a really sweet guy who has been trapped in a vortex of bullshit by his supposed friends. Evan just didn't want to fall victim to his "friends" beliefs of weeding out the weak and making them suffer. Maybe the new kid can be a changing point in his life.

He stands up, not breaking eye contact.  Evan's friends are standing behind him, making the universally know punching symbol. Evans knows he has to do it, which is a shame. Evan thinks if this guy held his head higher he might even be attractive, in a weird way Evan doesn't want to think about. Evan sighs and punches him, catching him off guard. He goes flying back, hitting his head on the wall behind him. He opens his bright eyes, and spits blood to the floor.

"What's your problem?" He throws his arms up, still glaring at Evan. He walks over to the new kid, lifts him up by his collar and pushes him against the wall. Maybe this is a bit over the top...

"My problem will be you if you keep this attitude up," Evan snarls, knowing the excess aggression will earn browny points with his friends. Evan releases him, his legs give out making fall down again. Evan reluctantly leaves him there, grabs his books and heads off to the first class. Evan's friends pat him on the back, congratulating him on my offenses.

All that is on Evan's mind are his stunning eyes.

'No, I can't be thinking like that. Oh, yes I can. Ok, he's hot, so what? Is there a problem with that? Straight jawline (I hope isn't like him), blue eyes that stare into your soul, small nose, tan skin, and to top it off, a willowly body. The scars make him look manlier I guess, I don't know why we called him that awful name, 'scarface'. Everything just fits perfectly on him. I probably would to,' Evan silently debates as he enters the first class and slumps down into his chair.

Argh! Stupid brain.

A/N: Hi everyone! For the clarification Evan and Jonathon are both 18 and in their last year of high school. I don't know much about the Canadian education system so if anything doesn't really fit just pretend it does.

Until next time!