The Quiet One | OC x Reader

Terror of the School

FIRST OF ALL, MAKE SURE YOU KNOW HOW TO READ MY FANFIC "X READER" COMMON JIBBERISH BEFORE YOU READ, THANK YOU. (Y/n means your name just in case you didn't know!)

-Abdiel's P.O.V.-

Everyone is staring at me. Again.

Their eyes are my biggest fear. I could never fathom the courage to talk, not now, not after two years of complete silence. I've lived the past two years in the dark. No words could describe my anger, fear, and sadness I truly feel, which is why I keep my mouth shut.

I forgot how my own voice sounds. Then again, the last time I ever spoke was when I was 16-going-on-17. Moving from the place I was born and raised was so tough that I zipped my lips for good. Not even a slur came out of me. Not even just as I walk by myself at night. Maybe I forgot how to talk all together. At this point, I just don't know.

But here we are, the entire class's eyes on me, all because Mr. Sykes called on me again in hopes to finally hear my voice. The one thing I do know about my voice is that it would be hoarse from its absence.

I simply shake my head and sink deeper in my chair as I continue to read the Casual Vacancy by J.K. Rowling.

"Abdiel," Mr. Sykes snaps, "you will have to speak at some point. This is Speech!"

I roll my eyes and continue to read. Mr. Sykes was usually quite patient with me and my attitude, but when he trotted over and unexpectedly snatched my book from me I was in shock.

I lurch forward out of my seat trying to grasp for my book. My eyes follow the open book held in between his fingers as he makes his way back to his desk.

"You'll get this back when you start speaking, young man," Mr. Sykes sites unfairly.

"Mr. Sykes," a guy interjected, "maybe you should just give it back to him. It's not gonna kill anyone."

Mr. Sykes scolds him. "Drew, some boys, even the ones that don't talk, need to be punished."

"Punished?" Drew says persistently, "He just wants to read, sir. I mean, there's nothing wrong with reading. With all due respect, sir, it also is his book."

Mr. Sykes pauses, then sighs. "I guess you're right, Drew." Mr. Sykes makes his way over to my desk and drops the book on it carelessly. "My apologies, Mr. Buchanan," he says as he sends an ice cold stare down at me.

I hate when he calls me Mr. Buchanan. It makes me want to bang my head against a wall made of hard diminishing brick. It's annoying enough that people make fun of my first name and call me Abigail, but Abdiel is better than being referred to by a name used in the Great Gatsby.

Suddenly the classroom door swings open and Mr. Sykes glances up from my desk. Considering the hallways are dim-lighted and the paint is chipping off of the cemented walls, I can see nothing but shadows in the doorway.

"Miss Valentino! To what do we owe the pleasure?" Mr. Sykes says in an overexcited manner.

As Samantha Valentino, the girl everyone liked, walked into the classroom with a note in hand, I couldn't help but glance beside her. As pretty as Samantha may be, I'm not taken by her appearance today. Behind her I saw a girl. H/c hair, f/i tall, and very good looking.

"Well, today y'all are lucky to have a new student in this class! She came here from the beautiful city of Tuscon, Arizona!"

I'm tempted to ask what her name is, but it seems the words never will leave my lips no matter how hard I try to force them out.

"Welcome to our class," Mr. Sykes says warmly, "what's your name, young lady?"

The girl put her hand out for him to shake. "Y/n, m/l/n," she said in a simple, feminine voice.

Y/n. That was a beautiful name, and for a beautiful girl. I like that name.

"Welcome, y/n. Take a seat..." Mr. Sykes scans the room, searching for the perfect spot to put her. Then his eyes meet mine, and he smiles.

Don't you dare, I think hatefully. Sure, she is attractive, but I hated everyone. And she most likely will turn out to be just like the other pretty girls. Bitches.

"There," Mr. Sykes says, his awareness so high for what he asks that it's annoying. He points to the desk beside mine and says "There, next to Abdiel Buchanan."

My eyes widen in terror. The only thing I'm scared of more than people is the idea that someone may have the capacity to talk me into speaking.

I shake my head refusingly. I throw my foot up and into the seat to tell them I didn't want her to sit here.

The smile she once wore on her lips fades into an awkward disappointed frown.

"Abdiel," Mr. Sykes hisses at me.

"T-that's okay," y/n says nervously, "I could just sit somewhere else..."

"Don't be silly!" Mr. Sykes insists, much to my disgust. Perhaps, he does not speak as good of English as I presumed.

"Oh," y/n says, rolling her eyes.

Mr. Sykes shoves my foot off of the chair. "You'll have to excuse Abdiel's behavior. He's not very productive."

Y/n walks over and sits down in the seat quickly. "Uh, thank you."

Mr. Sykes goes up and continues to teach.

I shift my head and begin to stare at the new girl. Okay, not exactly "staring", more like glaring. Which is the normal thing for me to do, with everyone, really.

She just sat there for a minute. I could tell she was tempted to turn to me as she was glancing over at me out of the corner of her eye.

-Y/n's P.O.V.-

First day in Carlsbad, New Mexico and I'm already ready to die. This weird kid - I think his name is Abdiel - is staring at me, not saying anything. Just stares.

But... on second thought... he is kind of cute. He has sandy blonde hair, the style reminding me of Ryan Ross's hair in 2014. And I can see his eyes are blue like the sky. He just keeps giving me a weird stare, and it's not making me uncomfortable per say, just really awkward.

I'm trying so hard not to look at him though. No matter how many times I glance back at him his eyes never leave me.

"Okay, what?" I finally snap.

He continues to glare at me. He picks up his book and points to the title. Weird fucking kid.

"What?" I ask in confusion.

He rolls his eyes, then points again. He motions toward the whiteboard suggestively.

"What are you trying to get at? Just say it," I hiss.

He shakes his head dismissively, then cracks open his book and begins to read. He shifts his position in the seat a few times, clearly trying to get comfortable. I didn't take my eyes off of him the whole time.

Finally he looks up in my direction, noticing my stare. He cocks his head back, seeming to be annoyed by my eyes being on him. He then begins looking me up and down with hatred.

"What?" I whisper, "A bit hypocritical of you, huh?"

He glances up at the ceiling as if he was considering my words. Then his eyes wander back to the pages in his book as his cheeks began to fill with color.

It becomes silent for a few minutes. I occasionally glance his way subtly, a couple times unexpectedly meeting his own eyes.

He may be an oddball, but at least he seems harmless. He seems to be a shy kid, like how I used to be when I was younger. Which was okay, I mean maybe this semester won't be so bad.