cue: confusion [IT FANFICTION]

am i harry potter or something?

I was surprised by the difference between the hallway and my honors writing class. It was filled with nerdy-looking and normal people alike (me being one of the normal ones, if you must know.) The seating was divided into benches, two students each sharing a desk.

I stifled a small scoff at the sight of Stanley Uris, who of course was already wrapped up in a book. What else would he be doing? Socially interacting?

(This jab might be a bit hypocritical since he's the only one in this class I can sit next to and not get throttled. I look for an empty bench all the same.)

When I took a seat next to him, he snapped his book closed, sighed, and sank deeper into his chair like the melodramatic bitch he is.

I scowl. "Wuh-what?"

"What?" He replied, widening his eyes in feign confusion.

I just roll my eyes and get my folder out of my backpack. That's right, Bill. You've got this. Just ignore him, ignore him, ignore him-

Stanley's eyes were still on me, his cold analyzing eyes looking uncharacteristically human today. Only in the sense that he looked like he was going to have the worst school year ever.

But I'm not. No, siree, Stanley Uris is not getting to my head today.

Stanley slowly opened his book back up and obnoxiously flipped the pages to find his previous spot, making me grimace. "What?" He asked innocently.

"Nothing, j-just- Y-y-you know what? I th-think I found your sspace."

"Really?"

"Yeah." I continued earnestly, "M-maybe take that st-stick out of your ass so that you can ch-ch-check th-there."

"Ha ha. I forgot how creative you were. Want a medal?"

"F-first of all, yes I am cr-creative, ssecond of all, huh-who says "W-want a medal?". W-why can't you say literally a-anything that sounds less rob-b-botic? "W-w-want a puh-prize", "Want a c-c-cookie", anything c-could've wuh-worked."

"Okay, William." His voice dropped to a whisper as he titled his head and gave me a sarcastic look. "I'll note that."

That was kind of hot

"Cuh-call me f-f-fucking Bill, Stanley, J-Jesus."

"Call me fucking Stan, William, Jesus." He mocked my voice with a whiny tone, then looked back at his book before I could say anything. My mouth just hung open for a few seconds. The insolence.

"Pick your jaw back off of the floor. That wasn't even my best insult and you know that."

I let out a scoff and looked away, biting my tongue to hide my annoyed expression. This was going to be a long year.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to English honors class. Today we're going over the content we'll be learning this year.."

"I can't wait for all of the learning we're bound to do." Stan mumbled to me, and we exchanged a small smile.

"Boys? Do you have something to share with the class?"

I was about to "oooooohh!" before I realized he was talking to us, and thus I offered a half hearted "U-um... nah."

When he turned around again to get some papers, I muttered to Stanley, "Good j-job, f-f-fucker."

He turned to face me with an offended look. "Me? That was barely my fault. It's not my fault you have such expressive facial expressions."

I was shout-whispering now. "I ne-ever even ssaid anything!"

"You really didn't have to."

"Now th-that teacher is g-g-going to hate us until th-the end of time."