cue: confusion [IT FANFICTION]

life should have foreshadowing

...well.

I never thought that Stanley Uris would be in my bedroom on a Thursday evening.

(For schoolwork.)

Let me remind you about that 3000 word English essay project that we were assigned by the petty teacher (who I found out was actually named Mr. Clark, but who I will still refer to as Snape.)

He must have really meant it when he said "collaborative work", because he expected us to write an essay.

Together.

With words.

And— and structure.

And that shit.

Obviously I'm able to write, but who wants to write 3000 words about one topic? It's utter bullshit.

(Which is why I initially planned to let Stanley do the majority of the work.)

But next thing you know, the asshole's a stage manager that has places to be and things to do, and I'm the conveniently placed writer in the midst of this trash fire plot.

So what was I planning to write about? The horror genre, of course.

It was classic of me, and Stanley rolled his eyes when I told him, but still agreed to edit and revise it after he was done with his mysterious stage manager duties that took up some of the studying time.

The studying in question took place mostly in the library, where it felt less like a partnered session and more like we just happened to be sitting at the same table at the same time, doing completely different tasks. I tried not to blast my music so loudly, and in return he didn't talk to me.

This strategy didn't work for long, though, as my parents were suspicious by my description that I was being blackmailed into doing some popular kid's work, which I had to bite back a scoff at.

In turn, she suggested I should have him over to work, which I begrudgingly informed him of. He responded with a forced laugh before going silent and adding "Wait, you're serious?"

I really wanted to hastily pass it off as an offhand joke, but that was kind of a bad strategy seeing as my mother kept asking to meet him. (I didn't previously inform her that the petty theater geek was actually the "nice Jewish boy" that always used to come over to my house after school.)

"Your mom already knows me," Stanley said, confused. A look of realization flashed across his face before he let out a short laugh. "Wait, you were complaining to her about the project?"

Admittedly, I became a bit flustered. "W-what? No, I'm not that petty–"

"You're petty."

"I'm not petty!"

"Don't lie to me."

"W-whatever."

There was a small, uncomfortable silence that hung between the smug Stanley and the bewildered me before he let out a small sigh, closing his book. "When does she want me over?"

"I never s-said–"

"Yes you did. When did she tell you? Make it quick, though. I have many extracurriculars."

"I b-b-bet you do," I muttered under my breath.

"We're like 5 feet apart. I can hear you."

-

"And of course my mom said, 'why, we can just have you two work on your essay at the house tomorrow!" She's acting like I'm bringing back a girl that she needs to judge or something, it's so fucking stupid."