Continue to Part 3
Disclaimer: GW still isn�t mine. Damn it all to Hell!
When Trowa finally found his classroom, he was already running a few minutes
late. He stopped outside the door and took in a deep breath, trying to calm his
nerves. Being the new kid in class was never a good thing, but being late to the
class and having everybody stare at him as he walked in would be downright
nerve-wracking.
He waited a minute longer before knocking softly on the door and then pushing
it open, stepping into the room, keeping his gaze fixed firmly on the floor. The
room had fallen silent when he had entered and he cringed inwardly, knowing that
he was being scrutinised by the other students. �Is this the English group?� he
asked softly.
�Yes, that�s right.� The teacher, a man who looked to be in his late thirties
walked over to Trowa and shook his hand. Trowa was quick to pull his hand away
and he hugged himself protectively, wanting nothing more than to just sit down.
�You must be Trowa Barton,� the man continued. �My name is Mr. Elliot. Welcome
to our English class. Would you like to tell the other students a little about
yourself?�
Trowa shook his head and he heard a few snickers break out among the other
kids. He felt the heat rise in his cheeks and he lowered his head so that his
bangs covered most of his face.
�Well, alright then,� Mr. Elliot said, clearly taken aback, but thankfully he
seemed easy going. �You can take the seat at the back next to Heero Yuy.� Trowa
glanced up to see where the teacher was pointing. A boy with messy dark brown
hair was glaring down at him from his table at the back of the room and Trowa
sighed. He didn�t look to be especially friendly.
�This is the text we�re studying at the moment,� the teacher continued,
handing him a copy of Shakespeare�s Hamlet. �We�re only a couple of acts in so
you won�t have much to catch up on, but if you need any help, I�m sure Heero
will let you copy up his notes.� Trowa nodded, but had no intention of asking
this Heero boy for anything if he could help it. �You can copy down what we�ve
discussed so far on the board and if you have any trouble with the text, just
raise your hand, okay?�
Trowa nodded again and made his way to Heero�s table. At least it was at the
back where no one could see him. He studiously ignored Heero as he sat down next
to him, taking his notebook and a pen out of his bag and finding the scene they
were supposed to be studying now.
He almost jumped out of his skin when he felt a light touch against his
forehead. He looked up to see that Heero had brushed aside his bangs, exposing
both of Trowa�s eyes. Trowa�s heart pounded nervously and his mouth was dry.
�What was that for?� he whispered.
�I just wanted to see what you looked like under there,� Heero informed him
before turning away disinterestedly, signalling the end of the conversation.
Well that was unusual, Trowa thought as he fumbled with the top of his pen. His
hands were shaking and he willed them to stop. What the Hell is wrong with me?
He thought angrily. He wasn�t one for physical contact, but Heero�s touch hadn�t
so much frightened him as confused him.
Trowa shrugged inwardly and found the page he was looking for. Luckily, he had
already studied Hamlet so this class at least would be easy. He copied down the
question on the board and then began absently scrawling notes on his textbook,
filling the spare space up with comments and words to describe each of the
character�s personalities. He wasn�t even listening to the teacher and he didn�t
need to. He�d done this work already, but he wasn�t going to tell Mr. Elliot
that.
Trowa was startled when he heard a voice above him and he stopped writing and
looked up when he saw Mr. Elliot standing beside his and Heero�s table. �I�d
have thought that you would have known better than to deface the school
textbooks,� he said with a frown.
�But I wasn�t,� Trowa muttered. �I was only-�
�He was writing his analytical notes in his textbook,� a new voice interrupted
and Trowa was surprised to see that Heero had come to his defence. Trowa numbly
held out his book as proof and the teacher scanned over his scribbles. His
eyebrows rose when he saw what Trowa had written and the boy squirmed
uncomfortably.
�You seem to be familiar with Shakespeare, Trowa,� he said, sounding
surprised. Trowa only nodded. �Well, even though this goes against the school�s
policy of not writing on your text book, I have to admit that you seem to have
understood and evaluated this act very thoroughly. Would it be a problem for you
to have a go at the essay question I posed for the group now?�
Trowa shook his head mutely and took back his book. Some of the other students
had turned round in their seats to get a better view of what had caused the
hold-up and Trowa ducked his head, hiding beneath the veil of his hair again.
�You have a good grasp of English as a subject,� Mr. Elliot told him, patting
his shoulder. �Just try not to write your notes directly into your textbook in
future though, alright? I�ll let it slide this time, but don�t do it again.�
That having been said, he walked away from Trowa and back down to the front of
the classroom.
Trowa sighed in relief when the other students looked away, but he could still
feel someone�s gaze on him. He pushed his hair aside to see that Heero was still
staring at him. He stared back, but Heero wasn�t one to back down it seemed and
Trowa eventually grew uncomfortable with this little contest, breaking eye
contact and going back to his work.
Thankfully, the lesson seemed to go by quickly and it hadn�t taken long for
Trowa to finish the essay that Mr. Elliot had set. It wasn�t up to his usual
standard as he�d been somewhat put off by Heero�s attention, but at least it was
done. He�d handed it in wordlessly when the bell rang and he had just finished
packing away his things when a hand shot out and grabbed his wrist to stop him
from leaving.
�What�s your next class?� Heero asked him.
�Psychology,� Trowa muttered, pulling his arm free.
�Mine too,� said Heero curtly. �I�ll show you the way over to the classroom.�
�Why?� Trowa blurted out before he could stop himself.
�Why what?� Heero asked, his glare darkening in confusion.
�Why are you helping me?� Trowa managed, trying not to shift awkwardly under
the other boy�s intense stare. He couldn�t understand this boy. He seemed to
push Trowa away and draw him in for some reason and Trowa couldn�t figure out if
he was a friend, or someone to be feared. He certainly looked threatening with
his ever-present glare.
Heero stared at him for a long moment before answering. �I like you,� he said
shortly. �You seem...different somehow.� Then he turned his back on Trowa and
made his way out of the room. Trowa just stood there, slightly in shock. �You
coming?� Heero asked impatiently and Trowa nodded, hurrying over to where Heero
was waiting for him and they made their way to the Psychology block
side-by-side, but not together.