ɪ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ (Gareth x Reader)

XI

Gareth stood in a very similar position to the one he was in weeks ago; awkwardly over Mr. Widgers desk. However, this time the complaint he had made back then was now standing next to him. You.
   
When Mr. Widgers had set the yellow slip on both of your desks, a bright red "see me after class," Gareth's stomach had fallen to his shoes. God. What now? And you had the audacity to ask if it was just meant for Gareth, making him buzz with anger. But no, the perfect little cheerleader was in trouble too. That amused him.

Now, the both of you stood uncomfortably almost shoulder to shoulder as Mr. Widgers shook his head in disappointment. His solemn eyes moved between Gareth's hard face to yours, and back again searching for the words.

You broke the silence, "Sir, what is this about? I have chem next." Gareth flinched at your voice, it was like nails on a chalkboard.

Mr. Widgers sighed, crossing his fingers and straightening his back. "You two have not gotten any work done since I have assigned this project. And I am wondering why."

Gareth shifted uncomfortably, he was good at projects like this, but only alone. Sure, he didn't necessarily enjoy the reading, but he usually could read them. He could muster up enough self-loathing to stop playing with his pencil and write what he needed to write, but this time he just couldn't. Because he was paired with the stupid cheerleader who couldn't get anything done themselves.

Little did he know you had a head start on your thesis.

As Mr. Widgers was met with silence, he sighed and asked, "you're reading J.R. R. Tolkien's Lord of the Rings, correct?"

The two of you nodded slowly, out of unison.

"Have you figured out your topic?"

"The portrayal of characters impact on the themes that Tolkien tries to display," you answered.

"Character's effect on the plot or whatever," Gareth said at the same time half-assedly. He never really paid much attention when you talked.

Mr Widgers' nodded slowly, his eyes again tracing along the both of you, before he sighed and set his hands on his desk. He twiddled his thumbs somewhat nervously.

"I don't tend to usually do this, but I'm going to need the two of you to start working on this after school. Together. You are not getting anything done in class, as I and many students can tell by your bickering. Now, I suggest the two of you exchange home phone-numbers and discuss where you would like to do this. Houses? Library? Doesn't matter, because if you don't you can do it in detention. And I hope at that point you don't expect an extension, or a positive grade. Do I make myself clear?"

All of the color left Gareth's face, suddenly filled with anger, rage, fear. He had never heard Mr. Widgers this stern before in his life. "But-"

"Do I make myself clear, Mr. Emerson?" Mr. Widgers snapped, flicked his usually tired-now fiery- eyes up towards him.

Gareth drooped his chin, biting back his lip defeatedly. There were so many vile things he wanted to say, but he had gotten in enough trouble this year already. "Yes sir."

You stood, staring blankly. You didn't know what to make of this... this demand. Firstly, Gareth was an asshole. Secondly, Gareth. Was. An. Asshole. And thirdly, hanging out with a boy deemed a freak would absolutely bomb your image, the nerd might seep through the cracks... And when Mr. Widgers brought up bringing Gareth to your house? Oh! The horror!

No one had seen your house since the fourth grade. Everyone thought you were just like all the other cheerleaders, on the nice side of town, three stories, full family. But you lived in a shabby run-down, one-story house with no pool and shit-brown walls. Oh, and to think of someone like Gareth seeing your room, a room David Bowie would love, left you with a shiver. Imagine if people found out that you had a DND poster on your wall. And you could imagine all of his cynical jabs.

But then it crossed your mind that someone like Gareth would actually quite like your room-

"Y/N," Mr. Widgers said firmly, raising an eyebrow at you. You blinked, snapping back into reality, "did you hear me?"

"Oh, yes sir," you replied, a slight blush. You could feel Gareth's spiteful look.

Mr. Widgers pushed back, spinning away from the two of you in your chair, coughing, before dismissing you. You quickly grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder, Gareth doing the same, exiting as fast as possible.

Once the classroom door behind you clicked, you stopped as Gareth began to walk off, mumbling something to himself. You watched him for a few steps before calling out, "hey."

He stopped, turning to you, both slightly annoyed and slightly tired looking.

"What?" He sounded bothered.

You cleared your throat, "shouldn't we exchange home numbers, or something?"
   
Gareth chuckled, furrowing his eyebrows, "or something."

Then he turned and walked away.