A Study in the Past

Chapter 2

4 hours later, John was dragging Sherlock into the village after orientation. It was already dark out, the Victorian street lamps lit and illuminated the paved streets. There were students everywhere, drinking, smoking, shagging. Sherlock didn't know why he'd agreed to go to the party.

"Oh lighten up, will you? This'll be fun!" John exclaimed. Sherlock huffed and stuffed his pale hands into his pockets. Sherlock took one glance at the hundreds of drunk teenagers around him. If they were to be dousing themselves with beer, wouldn't it have been smarter to change out of school uniforms? Of course not, because everyone was an idiot. Sherlock, on the other hand, was not planning on getting drunk, so obviously he didn't change out of his uniform. He just undid the tie from being that tight around his neck and rolled up his sleeves.

"Oh come on! Ill introduce you to my mates from the football team!" John exclaimed, dragging Sherlock to a group of boys standing with red cups filled with beer.

"Oi, look, it's John!" One of them called out. Drunk, obviously. Sherlock was going to have to actually talk to these people. Better get this over with then.

"Who's your friend, John?" Asked a more sober boy.

"This is Sherlock. He's my new roommate" John stated. The boys gave Sherlock a glance.

"Your Sherlock Holmes?" The tallest asked. Well he wasn't the tallest, because Sherlock was an inch taller. It wasn't intimidating at all.

"Yes I am" Sherlock stated.

"I didn't expect the school's new science prodigy to be so... Thin" he admitted. Sherlock huffed. He was actually expecting an insult. Sherlock was not thin! Okay, maybe he was but at least he wasn't a bloody pile of bones. He was actually very fit.

"Science prodigy?" John asked, noticing Sherlock discomfort at the comment.

"Yeah! Everyone's talking about the new genius at the school. A damn good footballer too!" He cried. Sherlock rolled his eyes. This ad Mycroft written all over it. One championship won for his old school in football and Mycroft is putting it on Sherlock's papers.

"Really?" John asked, giving Sherlock a look.

"We'll, I hope you'll join the team. I'm Greg, by the way, but you can call me Lestrade. This is Jim, Sebastian, Colin and Nicholas" Lestrade said, gesturing to the boys next to him. Nicholas and Colin looked Sherlock's age while Lestrade, Jim and Sebastian looked Mycroft's age, seniors. Sherlock merely forced a smile. He really didn't want to meet more incompetent idiots.

"Come on, let's go get you lads some drinks" Nicholas said, wrapping at an arm around John's shoulder and leading them towards the door to one of the houses they had been standing in front of. Music was blaring and lights were shining through the windows. Sherlock gave Jim and Sebastian a suspicious look as they stayed behind, talking in whispers with Colin, who looked like he didn't want to be there with them. Sherlock had already deduced everything about everyone around him, but deemed nothing important.

Sherlock refused to drink. As did John, because of his dad's drinking problems obviously.

"Is this your first boarding school, John?" Sherlock heard Nicholas, the only sober one besides Lestade, John and himself. Nicholas a tall, lean boy, with light brown hair and hazel colored eyes. Sherlock didn't hear John's reply over the loud music but he didn't have to. His family had barely scraped up enough money to get him to this school, obviously it's his first boarding school.

Sherlock was getting bored already. That wasn't a good sign.

"You know what? I think I'll be going now" Sherlock said as politely as he could.

"It was lovely to meet you all" he added before running out of the house. He passed a group of girls who blushed and giggled as he walked by. Sherlock shook his head from its confusion and leaned against a lamp post, enjoying the cool September air instead of the stuffy environment in the house. He rooted around in his pocket till he found a cigarette and a lighter. Might as well pass the time since he's bored. Lighting the cigarette, he began to make his way back up the dark fields to the old fortress.

It was sometime after midnight when John had come back. Sherlock wasn't sleeping. He never sleeps. Unless he actually needs to rest his body. Sleeping is a waste of time and it disturbs the mind upon waking up. Sherlock looked up from his book and watched John as he stumbled around the room. He wasn't drunk. So what had happened to him? Sherlock kept thinking possible theories, except having drunk too much, after John had gone to sleep. Finally, he decided to make a proper deduction tomorrow.

The day had been less horrible than Sherlock expected. He avoided the idiots and managed to be polite to the boys who actually didn't insult him. He expected to be the outcast and yet, he was accepted. Sherlock almost laughed aloud. Once they know how Sherlock really is, they wouldn't want to be in the same room with him. That's the problem people have. They pay attention to the bad attributes of an individual and choose to ignore their best qualities. Or as Sherlock likes to put it, these incompetent idiots see but do not observe. There is a difference, and they choose to ignore that as well.