Prince of The Misfits

September 05th

Rick and James walked to Mr. Fleetwood's class.

"I heard he's a proper grouch," Rick said to James.

"Yeah, me too." James replied. "Hopefully he doesn't have too much of a stick up his arse on the first day, right?"

"I hope not."

They opened the door to his class. There, he stood - clean shaven, balding and grey, wearing the goofiest spectacles the duo had ever seen in person. "Oh," James muttered.

"And who are you?" Fleetwood asked in total monotone.

"I'm Rick, and this is James" - he pointed to James, who stood there, choking back a laugh. 

"You're late."

"What?"

"You're late. Five minutes." Mr. Fleetwood said.

"It's the first day!" James protested.

"Which is why I'm letting you off. Do this again and you're getting a detention."

"Grouch" James whispered. He turned his attention back to the teacher, "So, where do we sit? Anywhere we want? Cool! Rick, come on." he began walking towards an empty desk at the front of the classroom, grabbing Rick by the hand. Mr. Fleetwood intercepted him and gripped his shoulder.

"Actually, you're sat over there," he pointed James towards an empty table in the far corner of the classroom, in front of the teacher's desk. "And you're there." he motioned Rick to a table in the other corner of the classroom, next to an Indian kid. He had big, spiked up hair and the beginnings of a beard. Rick obeyed and sat down next to him.

"Sir, I'll say this politely: you've made a mistake." James argued. "See, me and Rick - we've been best friends since Primary School! We were even born in the same hospital. I broke his arm once, too! We kinda complete eachother. I do maths so much better sat next to him. Maybe you could change the seating plan?"

"No," Mr. Fleetwood answered. "Sit down or get out."

"Fuck this," James muttered.

"Language, or you'll spend your Wednesday evening with me after school and your parents will get a report off me."

James, reluctantly, sat down in the empty chair.

"Now, get to know eachother while I set the lesson up." the teacher said, opening a packet of cheese crackers as he sat down at his desk.

"Hey," the kid sat next to Rick said. "I'm Ravi."

"I'm Rick."

"I heard," he laughed. "Do you have any friends here?"

"Nope. Besides James. We came here to get away from our old classmates. An escape, I guess. How about you?"

"I get along with most here, but I do have one friend - her name is Anneliese. She prefers Anna, though."

"She sounds nice."

"Shut the fuck up. You haven't even met her yet," Ravi smiled. "Although, you could come to my house after school... let's say, tomorrow? You can bring Jim too."

"James."

"Right."

"Sure," Rick answered. 

He looked at James - sat in the corner, fiddling with a pencil, chewing his fingernail, and not talking. To anyone. He was trying to stop himself from crying. A girl sat on the table in front of him looked visibly pissed off - James was the only person who she could have spoken to, and she wasn't angry when they walked in.

'James, screw you, not again' Rick thought to himself. He readied himself to get up and go speak to him.

"Class is starting!" Mr. Fleetwood shouted. Rick stood. "You, Ronald-"

"Rick."

"Whatever. Sit down."

"Si-" Rick began, but James stood up, tears streaming down his face, and he legged it out of the classroom. Someone sniggered at him.

"Is he okay?" the teacher asked to Rick.

"What the fuck does it look like?" he spat back, running out of the door to go chase down his friend.