Harmless Things (Jean Hobbs AU)

Part three

Jack P.O.V.
 

"Dean, Dean Dobbs?" I snapped my head up at the teacher's voice. Dean Dobbs? Who the hell is that? I scanned the classroom, seeing patches of brunettes and blondes and similar blue shirts and stopped at a mass dark brown hair at the front of the room who I've never seen before. He was probably new here, was he the one Fraser was talking about earlier? At a distance, he didn't look that short. Maybe he wasn't.

"Yes sir," he answered without taking his eyes off the table, watching the pen he was twiddling in his hands. For sitting at the back of the room, I certainly have a great view, I thought to myself, ignoring the never-ending chatter that was going on between Felix who was sitting next to me and Jason and Matt who were sitting on the table in front of us but had temporarily turned around to talk to us like they did every lesson.

"Jack, you in?" I mentally shook myself out of the daze at the mention of my name and looked at Matt and Jason who were looking at me expectantly.

"What?" I questioned, making Jason laugh and Matt roll his eyes.

"We're talking about playing football after school, wanna come with?"

"Uhh yeah, maybe."

"Jack Howard, are you talking?" The teacher looked up from the register and peered at me through his glasses that were perched off the end of his nose.

"Uhh... no," I answered hesitantly, not sure if it was a trick question. Mr Ledley raised his eyebrow which was a warning sign, but then turned his attention back to the register.

"You've been zoning out a lot today. Are you okay?" Felix asked, raising an eyebrow. Felix had known me longest out of all my friends, but he was hardly reliable when it came to secrets and keeping things to himself. I could tell him my deepest darkest secret and half the school would know in half an hour. Not that I had a deep dark secret, but the point was that gossip spread like wildfire in school, but it was passed even faster if Felix started it all.

"I'm fine, just tired," it was partly true, but the main real reason was I just couldn't be bothered with a lot of people anymore. All their conversations and cares didn't concern me, and their pointless and repetitive shallow talk of girls and games bored me. I needed someone interesting who I could share my weird thoughts with and not worry that they'd send me to a therapist but they'd find interest and discuss them with me instead.

"Jack, do I need to move you?"

"I think you might," I muttered.

"In that case, come sit down here at front next to Dean, thank you," with no objection other than a heavy sigh, I grabbed my belongings and slung my bag over my shoulder and made my way to the front of the class, sitting next to the nervous wreck, secretly glad I was being moved since they were getting on my nerves anyway. Dean glanced up at me, a fringe was nearly falling over his eyes that were a warm brown colour. I didn't get anymore time to look at his features as his stare quickly diverted back to the table, a blush lightly rising to his cheeks.

I watched him for a moment, but this only seemed to make him more anxious as the biro moved between his fingers more franticly. I studied him out of the corner of my eye as he listened to the teacher with a great amount of interest, taking more notes than anyone else. From my observations and judgements, he was a shy, quiet kid. Not much of a talker and preferred to stay out of sight and didn't like attention. I learnt he played with his pen when he was nervous or stressed after he was put on the spot by the teacher a few times, which caused him to flush and stutter, but thankfully he got both answers right. He either really liked maths or wanted to put on a good impression for his first day after he got straight to work after we were handed a sheet of questions.

I wasn't sure how to start a conversation without seeming obnoxious, so I tried the classic clearing of the throat which apparently worked as he looked up at me. 

"I'm Jack Howard," I said casually, trying to make him feel more comfortable sitting next to me. 

"I'm Dean, Dean Dobbs, but you probably already knew that," I smiled; the Nottingham accent in his voice was a bit stronger than my own. 

"Where are you from?" 

"I'm from around here, I just moved schools." 

"Oh, why?" He just shrugged so I dropped the subject, and he went back to work, but not concentrating as much as he once was. "Dean?" 

"Yeah?" He met my eyes and his cheeks turned a shade of red again. What was with all the blushing? 

"Could you show me how to do this? I wasn't listening and you seem pretty good at it," I half expected him to tell me that I should've been paying attention, but instead he simply nodded and smiled slightly, moving his new workbook to the centre of the table. His writing was scruffy and slanted a little to the right, but everything on the page was laid out perfectly and was full with calculations. 

He started explaining what we were doing and I caught on quickly, but I faked not understanding another two more times just so I could hear him speak. Was that weird? Maybe it was, but no one had to know that I was thinking like this, so I would keep the thought to myself, like I did the majority of the time. This was partly untrue because a lot of the time I would jot down any thoughts or feelings I had in a notebook I had at home. It was crammed with random diary entries and ideas and doodles or anything interesting I felt like had to be shared with ink and paper. I had never shown this notebook to anyone since it felt too personal and private, but it lay around my room carelessly anyway since from the outside it just looked like a normal notebook with normal things in, whatever that was anyway. 

Dean went back into his own little world when I let him and after answering enough questions so that the teacher was satisfied when he marked my work, I found myself looking at Dean again and finding the differences between us. 

After finding so many that I lost count, I began the mission of finding similarities. After not much thinking I decided I wanted to befriend Dean since he was a lot different from anyone I knew. 

"When's your birthday?" I blurted out, not entirely sure why I asked. 

"Uhh..." Dean looked up, looking totally caught off guard and thought for a moment. "January 6th." 

"So it was yesterday?" 

"Unless we skipped yesterday, yes," I laughed and he smirked, looking proud of himself.

"What did you get?" 

"Tickets to see Panic! At The Disco," his expression was placed with an excited one, and I was glad that in some way I was able to make him happy. Finally got our similarity, time to use it. 

"No way? I love them! I didn't even know they were going on tour!" 

"I found out a while ago, and I may or may not have accidentally dropped hints to my mother," he grinned, all intentions of finishing the worksheet had now vanished and he didn't seem as nervous anymore. 

"Favourite song?" 

"I think it's going to have to be I Write Sins Not Tragedies. Nothing can ever beat that song, apart from Digital Love by Daft Punk. What's yours?" 

"I'm in just in love with the whole Vices & Virtues album, but also It's Better If You Do and Northern Downpour." 

"You've earned my respect, Jack," I grinned in response. This acquaintance could actually get somewhere. 

"So where are you seeing them?" 

"Birmingham. It took me forever to convince my mum to let me go." 

"You know what? I might have to get a ticket for myself," the bell started ringing and I jumped, causing Dean to laugh at me. I packed my things away and stood up. I held back my laughter as I glanced down at Dean. He was several inches shorter than me even when he was standing, probably making him the smallest in our year. He blushed again when he caught me looking at him.

"Well, I'll see you around, Dean."