A Series of Short Stories

Start of a "Beautiful" Friendship

A/N: Please note this isn't edited

        Sitting outside the principal's office is not often perceived as a favorable place to be. To teenagers, it was practically the equivalent to a warden's office or lock-up. The grey concrete walls were very reminiscent of a prison cell and the harsh fluorescent lights made the space feel like an interrogation room.

"Ms. Holmes, how wonderful to see you again." The secretary sneered at the familiar arrival.

"Oh Beatrice, it's been far too long! How is the ulcer going? Still, haven't told your husband you know yet?" Ms. Holmes quipped.

"Tch. Take a seat, Ms. Holmes. Dr. Calloway will speak with you soon."

        Ms. Holmes rolled her eyes and glided over to the seats set up beside the secretary's window. She sat down and observed the familiar room lazily. The door hinges to the office lobby squeaked as it opened.

"Uhm, hi. I'm here to see Dr. Car-er-Calloway?" The new arrival looked down at his hand where some ink was smudged.

"Your name?" Beatrice, or as her nameplate read, Mrs. Millon, asked curtly.

"Marcus McCleary." he grinned sheepishly.

"I'll let him know you're here." She absently answered, already back to reading her magazine.

        Marcus ambled over to the chair beside Ms. Holmes as it was one of the few that lacked suspicious rust-colored stains. He plopped into the seat and sighed under his breath.

"New kid, huh." It wasn't a question.

"Yeah, I'm Marcus," he held his hand out to her with a pleasant smile.

"Rhiannon Holmes, though most know me as Ryder. Pleasure to meet'cha. I think I'll call you Matchstick," she grinned and shook his hand firmly.

"Uhm...why matchstick?" He rose an eyebrow and released her hand.

"Well you're tall and thin, plus you've got dark red hair like the top of a match," she shrugged, though he could tell that was not all.

"Okay, I suppose that makes sense...I think," he scratched the back of his head.

"There's also the fact that you're gay, and from the hint of an accent I'd say you lived in England for a while. Considering the British term for a cigarette and the American slur for a homosexual I thought it'd be clever," She winked at him with a mischievous grin.

        Marcus was flabbergasted and Ryder enjoyed his shocked expression very much. It wasn't exactly rude but it wasn't polite either. She expected him to get angry soon and defend himself denying his sexuality. It wasn't unusual for the girl to be screamed at by strangers.

"That's brilliant!" Marcus burst out laughing, arms wrapped around his stomach, back hunched over.

"Oi! Ms. Holmes, stop being such a little delinquent," Mrs. Milllon snarled.

"Oh lighten up Beatty!" Ryder teased.

"Tch. I can't wait until you graduate and leave me to my peace," she huffed.

Marcus snorted under his breath and smiled innocently when the beady eyes of the secretary landed on him. When she kept staring he averted his eyes to the right. His sight was met with an incredibly tacky motivational poster.

"Hang in there," Ryder snorted, seeing where Marcus's eyes were. "That's just so wrong. The kitten did nothing to deserve being left to hang off a branch for his life," She huffed.

"Yeah, seriously, what kind of message is that poster sending? If you can't hang in there you'll fall to your death," Marcus quipped.

"AKA your inevitable failure. You'll land a career in flipping burgers or parking cars," Ryder chimed in.