"Class dismissed" Janson sighs. The screeching of chair legs on the tacky plastic floor echo his command. "Thomas, can I speak to you please."
Finally, I think, Janson's recognised my progressively good grades and outstanding class enthusiasm. I pack my books away, making sure each book's in the exact position I want it: efficiently tucked behind my maths textbook and in front of my biology, to state importance, whilst giving off a satisfying sense of symmetry.
I strut up to his desk, maybe a bit too confidently. "You wanted to see me, sir?"
Without lifting his head to look at me, his arm shot out to point at the degrading green sack in the corner of the classroom. "Recycling." he mutters under his breath - a statement, not a question.
Disappointed, I walk over to the bag and pick it up, it's surprisingly heavy. "Thank you, sir." I reply.
Damn Janson, why don't you give this job to one of the idiot stoners instead of the one person who knows anything in this entire school! ugh, I think as I drag the sack around the back of the PE block; what's in this thing, bricks? I turn the corner and instantly regret taking this route. moronic laughter fills my ears as I walk past the group of high troublemakers that I forgot to avoid.
"what a k-k-k-lunkhead!" one of them shouted whilst a girl fell into fits of laughter at the somewhat intermediate insult. "Need some help with that?" a blonde boy emerged from the group.
"Ugh, like I need help from people like you." I sneer at him, my head buzzing with anger at that stupid insult. What kind of a word is klunkhead anyway?
He just ignores me and lifts the other side of the recycling, and a surprisingly significant amount of weight taken from my arms. I didn't expect him to be that strong, especially since he's so skinny. I take this time to fully look him over; he's tall and lanky, but in a sort of good way, a defined jawline with lips that were thin, but not too thin, scruffy strawberry blonde hair... he catches me staring and I shoot my gaze off in another direction.
"Well, this recycling isn't gonna move itself..." he reminds me.
"Oh uh yeah." I stammer as I start walking in the direction of the bins.
He chuckles to himself, letting a strand of his hair fall over his eyes.
"What?" I ask him, feeling anger and anxiety prickle up in my chest again.
He shakes his head, "Nothing... Hey, if you wanna sometime, you should eat lunch with me and my friends or something. I'll make sure they don't make fun if you if I'm there,"
I snort, remembering my values. "As if," I reply.
"Huh." He mutters, and I instantly feel regret for lashing out like that. But he seems not to be too offended, "Well, I'm sure we'll see each other around anyway." He says as he walks away, giving me a smirk I'm sure he must have practised in the mirror to get that perfect.
Just as he was about to disappear he turned around on the spot and shouted back to me, "The names Isaac by the way, but most people call me Newt."
YOU ARE READING
sex, drugs, and Isaac Newton (newtmas)
FanfictionNOT AS SMUTTY AS THE TITLE SUGGESTS stuck up and nerdy Thomas finds himself hanging out with unexpected people and falling for a boy named isaac or 'newt' as his friends call him.
