Mirrors: A BBC Sherlock Fanfiction

Chapter 1: My Locker Partner Likes Glitter Glue

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 Erm… Hi, I guess. My name is William Watson. You can call me Liam, or William, or whatever you want, really. Why am I even writing this? I don’t know. My dad suggested I start an “online journal”, which is sort of like a blog, I suppose. He told me that it helped him work out his feelings when he was younger, so I figured I’d give it a try.

 Is anyone even going to read this? I doubt it. Honestly, my life isn’t all that exciting. Maybe I should just shut up and start talking about my day. That’s what people do in journals, right?

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The air was bitterly cold as I walked up the flight of stairs that led into the school building. I pulled my scarf more tightly around my neck in hopes of staving off the chill, but it was no help whatsoever. Londonhad never been this cold, even in the dead of winter.

Gratefully, I pushed through the front doors and found myself in a large commons-type area. Two or three students were milling around, but it was early enough in the morning that I didn't have to be the object of attention quite yet. Several staircases led off to upper parts of the enormous school building, and a maze of dingy hallways zigzagged to elsewhere.

I crossed the dark green industrial carpet, avoiding the shocked gaze of my new classmates, and entered the office. Really, it was rude to stare. Didn't they have manners here in America? Sure, my left leg was currently crippled, and yes, I was hobbling about on crutches, but honestly.

A blonde secretary sat behind the desk, fingers flying away on her keyboard. A couple of chairs had been shoved unceremoniously into a corner of the small office, and a sleek black clock hung from the wall, slightly crooked. I sighed, awkwardly moving up to the desk.

The woman looked up as I approached her, light green eyes wide. Her fingers stopped clattering over the keys.

"Hello!" she chirped, far too happy for such a dreary Monday morning. "How can I help you?"

"Um, I'm new here. My name is Liam, Liam Watson. I came to get my schedule." I shifted on my crutches a bit.

"Oh," she said. Then recognition dawned on her face. "Oh! Yes, of course, you're the student from London. I have your schedule here."

She wheeled her office chair around and scooped up a stack of papers, riffling through them. "Let's see, Watson, William S. It's a good thing you arrived at school early. It'll give you time to get your bearings straight and everything." She slid the papers across the counter to me.

"Here is your first class." The secretary pulled a map of the building out of the stack and pointed to a classroom on it. "Geometry, with Mr. Barlow. And this is your locker. Our school is way too small for the number of students enrolled, so I'm afraid you'll have to share with someone else. But I'm sure you'll manage that just fine."

"Yeah," I replied, slightly put off by her overly cheery tone.

"Have an awesome day! I hope you love it here!" She grinned and returned to her seat, becoming lost in her work once more. The clattering of the keyboard keys started up again, filling the otherwise silent office.

"Thanks," I muttered before turning and leaving. Outside, I stopped and consulted my schedule. Mr. Barlow's class was all the way across the school. It would take me at least fifteen minutes to get there- and the secretary had said this school was small. Yeah, right.
 

She was correct about one thing, however: it was good that I got here as early as I did, even if it meant losing another precious hour of sleep. I also skipped out on my morning tea, which was proving to be a big mistake. I felt like I was going to collapse any moment, deprived of my daily caffeine.

It wasn't like I wanted to move here in the first place. My dad, Dr. Watson, had received an amazing job offer at the local hospital, however, so now we were stuck in a drab and dull New Hampshire town. Already, I missed London and everything in it- the Thames River, winding lazily through the city; elderly Mrs. Hudson, my dad's friend from who knows when; my old school mates- especially them. I longed for my previous school, even if it meant I was away from my dad for months at a time. Here, at least I could live at home, seeing as this was a public school that didn’t offer accommodations for the students.