Pulling Down Heaven

The high school au no one asked for

The only upside to the new 'bible study group' John's dad had signed him up for was the free cookies: and even that was a stretch. Most weeks they were stale or coconut flavoured (I mean, who the hell puts coconut in cookies?), and the other teens who actually cared about the class looked judgementally at you if you took more than three. That hadn't stopped him so far, but it wasn't exactly friendly either. The teacher was, by his estimate, 103, the other students were zealous beyond belief considering the century they lived in, and not even the free food was up to standard. Disappointing.

So as the roads to the nearest town blurred into a vaguely nauseous kaleidoscope of green and brown, John scuffed the toes of his boots against the vans floor and sighed dramatically out of the window.

"Now don't you start young man-" John's father still spoke with a thick southern drawl that brought to mind cattle ranches and confederate flags, despite having emigrated nearly 6 years ago. John's accent, by comparison, was much softer, but still noticeable enough for the other kids to pick up on it.

"I'm not starting anything," he huffed, folding his arms and sliding further down the seat, "I just don't see why I have to go to this thing."

His dad's knuckles whitened slightly against the wheel. Oh Jesus, John thought slowly, letting his hair fall in front of his face in a makeshift shield, here comes another rant. "I have told you time and time again..."

By the time they pulled up at the hall where the group met, John had successfully pulled an entire thread out of the sleeve of his jumper, and wound it into a section of his shoulder length hair. As much as he was dreading bible study, (especially now he'd remembered his bible was sitting on his desk at home) there was no possible way out by lingering in the car with an angry parent, so he threw open the car door as soon as the car stopped moving.

"You need to learn to take some responsibility-"
"Bye dad," and with a clunk the argument was behind him. Almost. He knew he'd have to listen to the same thing all over again on the way home. Pushing through the door with his shoulder, John scraped his hair into something that vaguely resembled a bun, and pulled half heartedly at the green string before accepting dejectedly
that it was firmly knotted in there now.
A couple of particularly dedicated kids were already discussing something animatedly over an open bible in the corner and looked up when he walked in. Their faces fell when they realised who it was.

"Afternoon Ezekiel, Francis" John nodded to them as he swept past to the food. They didn't reply, and he didn't expect them to. They never had.

By the time Proctor had lounged out across 2 chairs and settled down for his second cookie most of the kids had arrived, and the leader judged it time to begin the meeting.

"So, welcome everybody- John take your feet off of that chair- we will begin with a short moment of silent reflection and then a prayer." John swung his legs forward and slouched in his chair, stifling a yawn. The leader, Mr Danforth, as the students knew him, an ex-lawyer and fundamentalist christian, began speaking again after a pause. "May the grace of our lord Jesus Christ, the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with us all evermore, amen." Several quieter "amen"s repeated around the room like an echo.

"Now, students, we have a new pupil joining us today, and he's just moved here from wales- so please, be civil," at this he looked directly at John, "Stand up and introduce yourself, please."

There weren't many people in the class who John remembered, only the exceptionally annoying or pretentious, so when the boy next to him stood up to introduce himself as the new guy, he wasn't surprised he hadn't known.
"Um- I'm John," he smiled gently, his eyes darting from person to person. His accent was lilting and melodic, but with an shaking edge of anxiety. "John Hale."