Inside Out: A ROTBTD FanFiction

Chapter 1: The Usual Morning Line-up

Merida pulled into the schools crowded parking lot on her jet black Harley Davidson, late as usual. Scoping out an empty space, she swerved between the painted lines, narrowly avoiding a large, dirtied truck and leaving a trail of skid marks over the asphalt, as if to create a signature for the unnecessary stunt. Even after such a show, the vehicle still managed to be parked a bit crookedly, but Merida was too preoccupied with the task at hand to care much.

She knew if her mother were to find out that she was late again, she would surely be grounded for life. But then again, this was a daily routine and she got away with it 96% of the time, give or take.

She practically flung herself from the leather seat and yanked her previously unstrapped helmet off her head, letting loose a mane of wild curls, that cascaded down her back in a waterfall of crimson. She fumbled with her keys a bit yanking them roughly out of the ignition and shoving them deep into the recesses of her jacket pocket.

Her mother would be displeased if she saw her now, in such a fit of frantic jess and disorganized. Eleanor expected nothing but the best from her daughter. But having disappointment as a constant companion, Merida had learned to live with her mothers scrutiny.

The read head threw the helmet carelessly over one of the handlebars, nearly missing, and snatched up her monogrammed leather side satchel. This had been her mother's gift for her 16th birthday. Something rather expensive and finely made, but too practical in Merida's eyes. Besides it was nothing compared to the glistening machine that sat next to her, her father's gift. It was obviously superior, and more to her tastes.

After slinging the bag over her shoulder she returned her hand to her pocket, pulling out a stick of gum and popping it in her mouth, hoping it would suffice for her lack of brushing. Throwing the silver wrapper on the ground, she took off toward the uneven concrete steps that led up to the entrance of the building. Each step echoed like the ticking of a clock reminding her of the passing time.

The reason for Merida's lateness today was that she had decided to try and plan an actual outfit rather than throwing on random articles of clothing as she usually did. She had scrounged out a pair of black and white striped skinny jeans from the back of her messy closet and spent ten minutes wriggling into them, and another five attempting to button them.

After that struggle she had been to lazy to find a matching shirt and so had chosen to pair them with the "Imagine Dragons" concert tee she had worn to bed the previous night, hoping it wasn't too noticeably wrinkled. She'd thrown her favorite blue hoodie overtop as a precaution. Nothing too extravagant, but hey, at least she tried.

Merida had even attempted to style her hair but it was to no avail. Ending up with something worse than what she had started with. She'd tried her best to fix her new, slightly lopsided hair style but finally gave up on it altogether, just putting in a thick, black hairband to hold her kinky bangs out of her eyes. Then, she applied her usual stripe of eyeliner above each eye, choosing a blue in an attempt to brighten her nearly colorless outfit and bring out the color in her eyes. It was the only makeup she ever wore, and thought of it more as war paint, preparing for the battlefield that was high school.

Of course, her teacher wasn't going to accept such an excuse, so she drilled her brain for one she hadn't overused yet. She could think of several options, but they were all too sarcastic or sassy and would probably get her in even more trouble than she already was.

Merida wasn't very good at being polite, it wasn't exactly intentional, but it had become more of a reflex. Because underneath her tough shell was a sensitive heart, over sensitive, in her eyes. Although this usually didn't go over well with authority figures, she still felt as if it had become a part of her and took pride in the witty remarks.

She was about to push open the schools double doors, still lost in her own thoughts, when she spotted something, or more specifically, someone, meandering down the hallway. Luckily, her extensive experience with sneaking in late had given her an almost superhuman sense of impending danger.

It was one of the school officials, Mr. Clause. He was one of nicest teachers in the school, unless you got on his bad side. Unfortunately for Merida she was one of the few kids on his 'naughty list'. You would have never thought a guy like him could even get a job in education.

He was a burly man of 6'4", his muscular arms were coated almost entirely in tattoos. And as if that weren't intimidating enough, his voice was the worst of all. A deep, booming baritone laced with a thick russian accent which made everything he said sound like he was conducting an interrogation.

Merida drew in a breath and silently pulled away from the door, sliding behind a concrete pillar that framed the school's entrance. She swallowed her gum as force of habit. As she leaned over to peek at the teacher, her bag nearly slipped from her shoulder, but she caught it just in time. Might as well just wait it out.

As if reading her mind, Mr. Clause stopped to observe an old art project display that must have been up for at least the last million years. It was made up of ceramic tiles with sloppily painted children, who looked so happy, that it was almost creepy. The large man stroked his long white beard seemingly deep in thought. Running his eyes slowly over the wall as if it were some kind of masterpiece.

Well her previous plan was certainly out of the question. Merida forced her brain into escape mode. An idea quickly filled her mind and she shoved her hand into the deep recesses of her bag, grasping around aimlessly inside until her hand bumped into something rather large and round, just what she needed.

She pulled out a slightly bruised apple ,that was supposed to be her breakfast. She tossed the object up and down for a minute as she ran the calculations through her head. She took a large bite of the fruit, before pitching it hard at a nearby window. It hit with perfect accuracy and emitted a satisfying thunk.

The teacher's head snapped toward the sound like a shark to the smell of blood. A firm expression pulled itself over his wrinkled face and he puffed out his chest in an attempt to look even more intimidating than he already was as he headed off to look for the source of the disturbance.

Merida waited a minute until he had completely disappeared from her line of vision. She chuckled lightly under her breath as she slid through the doors and down the now empty hallway. She figured that all those softball practices that her mother forced her to were finally paying off.