Deerstalkers and Love Letters - Teenlock

2. The Phone Number

The thing you have to realise about Sherlock Holmes is that he wasn't like you and I. He was different. Or as I liked to call him, an utter git. I never actually saw him with any friends, he always sat alone, normally with a book in front of him. But he was odd, and I liked that about him.

••••

It's Saturday morning and I push open the door to my dorm, giving a small sigh. I close it behind me and glance up to see that, not to my surprise, Sherlock isn't here. He's never really here, and those little times when he is, he doesn't speak. And when he doesn't speak that normally signals that you shouldn't speak either. I make my way past his bed and grab my backpack, slinging it over my shoulder. It's late September but outside the weather is still perfectly warm. It's a good chance to sit down by the lake and study. I make my way down the stairs and begin to head out into the grounds. About a hundred other students are all sat on the grass in small groups, or milling around the lake. I see a few familiar faces sat beside the stone steps and I walk over to meet them. There's three of them. Molly Hooper from my biology class and her friend Mary. The other is a boy who I haven't seen before.

"Oh hi John," Molly says brightly as I sit down next to them.
"How's everything?"
"Yeah, good," I reply, pulling my textbook out of my bag.
"And how's Sherlock?" She asks.
"Well I'd say he's a complete and utter dickhead but apart from that he's fine," I mutter, clearing my throat.
"Who's this then?" I ask, quickly changing the subject.
Molly's cheeks turn a rose red colour all of a sudden.
"This is Jim," she says with an awkward smile.
"We're dating now."
The boy grins at me, he's got sleek pushed back hair (a lot of product has clearly been used), and wearing a simple white shirt. Clearly gay. I wonder if Molly knows, I mean she's not exactly known for her good relationship skills.

The rest of the day carries on like this. We all sit on the steps, laughing and talking until the other students all begin to head back to their dorms. The sky has begun to glow a pretty orange colour and I finish cramming all of my books back into my bag.
"Well I better head off," I explain to the others, slinging the backpack over my shoulder.
"Me too," Jim agrees. He's got a nice sort of Irish accent.
My dorm's around a five minute walk from here and Jim says that he'll walk with me there. We don't talk much, it's just me asking about him and Molly every now and again. When we reach it, I go to say goodbye and he simply hands me a piece of paper.
"Laters John," he says with a smile, walking off down the hallway.
I open it up curious.
"Huh?"
A phone number. His phone number.

The key clicks into the lock and I enter the dorm, exhausted and confused. I kick my bag over to the end of my bed and put the piece of paper down on the desk.
"What's that?"
My head darts up in surprise and I see Sherlock sat calmly cross-legged on his bed, clutching to a chemistry textbook.
"It's - it's nothing don't worry," I mutter, collapsing onto my bed.
"Are you sure?" He asks me, looking up.
I nod; my eyes closed.
"Alright then, although it is pretty obvious when it's a guy's phone number."
We both break out laughing, something I'd never seen him do before.
My first week here had been interesting to say the least. But this showed that maybe Sherlock Holmes was actually human after all. And I was determined to find out.