Linkin Undead (Hollywood Undead FanFic)

Getting Off On the Wrong Foot.

A week later

~George~

In the morning I couldn't find Jorel. The school was pretty packed, and when I got to my locker people would bump into me like they could walk through me. It irritated the hell out of me.

After shoving my backpack in my locker and getting all my supplies for art, I searched for room 31. I wasn't good at art, but f*ck, it was a pretty easy class and I could easily get a 100% in it.

The room took forever to find. The tardy bell rang out through the halls, and I was still looking for the damn class. A girl walked passed me, and I stopped her, "Excuse me, but do you know where the art room is? I'm new here, and I'm totally lost."

The girl looked at me, "Oh yeah, I'm going there right now.."

"Alright."

I followed her all the way down the hall, and she turns into a large room with paintings, sketches, and beyond on the walls. Paint containers were found on the right side of the room on a counter with paintbrushes. There was more there that I could hardly name. On the left side, there were file cabinets and the teachers desk. Humongous shelves next to the filing cabinets were found, with baked clay projects, easels, binders and newspaper. In the far back there were tables, a large metal sink, and 2 doors leading into either a large storage room or another room for art. Posters of the Elements of Art or fun posters with "Peace, Love, and Art" we're there. The desks were art desks, and could be lifted up to any extension.

I took a seat in a desk in the back, throwing my stuff on top of it and slouching in my broken chair. A guy walked to the teachers desk to converse with the teacher. His hair was to his shoulders.

A minute later, a kid with blonde curly hair and glasses cam hurrying in. His math book was in his hands, and the blue binder was pressed to his chest. The book slapped the floor and papers scattered across the white tiled floor. He groaned, "This just had to happen!"

I quickly looked down at my lap, biting my lip so I wouldn't smile at his accident. The kid with long hair jogged over picking up some papers.

"Okay, so we have a new Junior here today. His name is George Ragan." The teacher stood up, flapping her hand at me. Everyone turned to get a good look at me.

"Yup. That's me," I say, waving, "you can call me Johnny though.."

"Okay. Johnny um, what do you like about art?"

"I like how it's an easy A class."

Kids all around me chuckled. The teacher just shrugged, going back to whatever the hell she was doing.

The rest of the class I sat around doing nothing. I kinda started to nod off, but the girl that escorted me here poked my arm. That made me sit up, then looked at her. "The hell was that?"

"I'm waking you up. What does it look like?" She asked me like I was a dumb ass. The girl pulled her Misfits shirt down and fixed her studded belt.

"Would you not look at me like that?" I snap, "You make me feel like I'm a jack ass."

"Because you are." The girl joked, grinning widely at me.

"What's your name?"

"Skylynn."

"I'm not sure if it's nice to meet you..?"

**

English was aggravating. Luckily, Jordon was there to keep me company. A kid that had long brown straightened hair walked in the class, followed by the long haired kid from art with a small armed guy. The teacher quietly watched the three of them walk in as they giggled and tripped each other. after seconds of finding a seat, they shut their traps. The twig sat next to Jordon.

"This is George Ragan and Gordon Terrell." The teacher pointed Jordon and I.

"Jordon." Jordon corrected him.

"This is Aron Errichman--"

"Erlichman." The twig said.

"Matthew St. Claire, and Daniel Murillo.." The teacher continued through names, and soon I stopped paying attention. Jordon must've done the same thing because we exchanged looks.

The English teacher told us that his computer took a digger on him so he had to write down who was here and who was not on a paper, then run it downstairs. He walked out of the door and the class became a roaring hurricane. Aron crumpled a piece of clear notebook paper, and threw it at Jordon's face. The other two laughed.

Soon, it was an eraser. Then it was a pencil. I was trying to keep calm about it. But it was something about the kid.. Maybe it was because he was tiny and wore a tight Shirt. This time another wad of paper hit Jordon, but bounced off his head and hit me. The guys laughed.

I quickly stood up and trudged over to him, shoving him out of his desk. The chair went with him, and the other two went silent.

"Try picking on my friend and see what happens." I snap, towering over Aron as he struggled to untangle his legs from his chair.

**
~Matthew~

This guy was twice the size of Aron. I thought he was going to beat the sh*t out of him.

"I'll f*ck your scrawny ass up." George growled, lifting Aron up by the collar of his shirt.

Aron's eyes widened, and he let out a tiny shriek, "Maybe I got off on the wrong foot!"

"You did--!"

"George, just set him down! I can look up for myself, man!" Jordon shouts, standing up.

George turns and drops Aron. His head hits the desk with a faint thump. The other kids in the room stared. God, this was embarrassing. All these kids had to almost watch Aron's ass get served to him. Might as well call George "The Server."

Aron popped up instantly from the floor. He was breathless from holding his breath for so long, "Im Aron."

"I know that, idiot."

"Sorry."

"I'm sorry, our friend here can be a complete bitch sometimes." I say, my raspy voice slightly filling the room.

Aron groaned, rubbing his head and sitting back down, "If only Jorel was here to see this."

"Jorel? You know Jorel?" Jordon asked, looking at Aron.

"He's a new kid," Aron groaned, "He's our--"

"Where is- what class is he in?" George asked.

"He should be in Spanish. Then.. I think like, math?" I say.

"He's hanging out with you guys?"

We nodded.

"J is hanging out with you dick heads?"

I guess you can call us, "dickheads"..