Down the Sidewalk

Chapter Two

As Sherlock rounded the corner the next morning, he saw Molly Hooper sitting in the passenger seat of her father's car, talking animatedly with him. Sherlock almost smiled before he caught himself.

The first bell rang the moment after Sherlock threw himself into the chair next to John. The blonde boy grinned and clapped Sherlock on the shoulder.

"Mate," John said, completely ignoring the chemistry teacher, "Sarah invited me to a party at her friend Jeanette's this weekend. You should come."

"No."

"Come on, Sherlock."

"Parties aren't my area, John. It won't end well, I can tell you that now."

"It'll be fine," John said. "I'll be there."

"Yeah, and your girlfriend. You'll be snogging the whole time."

"We will not. I promise. Come to the party, Sherlock."

"Fine."

Eight class periods later, Sherlock was stuffing his books in his bags and bolting out of the school. He ducked his head and started the long walk home.

"Sherlock!" a girl's voice called. "Sherlock Holmes!"

Molly Hooper was running towards him, her hair trailing behind her.

"Ah, Molly. How nice to see you."

"Really?" she asked, her smile growing wider.

Sherlock shrugged. Molly's grin wavered.

"Right," she said. "Um, so, how was your day? No one bothered you, did they?"

"Are you seriously checking up on me?"

"Well, I just... was wondering. Did they?"

"No more than usual," Sherlock replied. "You don't need to be doing this. I don't need your pity."

"I don't pity you."

"Then what is this, then?"

"I- I want to be your friend. I don't think you have enough."

"This still sounds like pity."

"It's not just for your benefit," Molly admitted, blushing. "I think you're interesting. I would like to be your friend because- well, my other friends... They aren't really- They don't really care."

"Are you saying I do?"

Molly swallowed. "No, they're just worse. I doubt you'll try to force me into skirts that are too short or curl my hair or smear makeup on my face."

"Hm. You have a point. I couldn't care less what you look like."

"That's reassuring," Molly replied.

Sherlock frowned. "Is it?"

"Well, I didn't mean it like that, but... yes, a little bit. That's all people do, care about how they look."

"People are idiots."

Molly smiled. "I told my friends about you, you know."

Sherlock stiffened. "Oh? And what did you say? You met the freak on the walk home, and he was just as odd as everyone says he is."

"No!" Molly squeaked. "Not at all. I said that you weren't a freak. That you're quite clever, and more people should listen to you."

Sherlock relaxed. "Oh."

The girl frowned. "I told you yesterday that I wouldn't call you that."

"Yes, well..."

Molly nodded. "I know. So, what do you want to do? Like, as a job?"