Much to Arthur’s dismay, it seemed as if the new student had suddenly vanished and it made Arthur curious because from the boy’s initial appearance, Arthur could have sworn he was also in twelfth grade. He swung his damned Physics book in his hand as he sauntered into his favourite science class, slamming his cursed book on a free desk in the lecture hall. Girls gave the Brit shy waves as always, and he would jerk his chin in response or wave his fingers dramatically. He leaned back in his seat and began fumbling with his proud Union Jack-design tie. Sure, it was not the ugly maroon colour that was issued by the Academy but Arthur about as much fu-ks to that as he did to this mistake-of-a-course.
Just as his favourite professor started writing the class’s agenda on the board, a nervous knock caught Arthur, and a good majority of the girls’ attention. The Brit’s lips curved into a sly grin as he noticed the blond from the morning with a schedule in his hand. The boy awkwardly fumbled with his papers and thrust them at the professor.
“Welcome to the class, Mr. Br-er, Mr. Jones. Please take a seat.”
And take a seat “Mr. Jones” did. Arthur chuckled under his breath as the kid tried his best to look like he belonged by trying to find a seat beside someone with confidence and when he finally plunkered down three seats away from Arthur, the new student began unbuckling his backpack and pulling out a bunch of loose leaf papers and a thin notebook. It seemed to Arthur that this new student was clearly not a fan of a organization.
All throughout the lesson on the spectrum, Arthur half played with his undid tie, and a fiddled around with some poetry in his Physics notebook.
Occasionally his eye wandered and he found himself staring at how intently Jones was paying attention, so unlike a majority of the rest of the class.
Arthur came to the final conclusion that Jones tried just a wee too hard to fit in: the flashy ride to school, the huge arse body guard, the neatly pressed slacks and blazer, the over-eagerness to learn and the overall “Golden Boy” effect. Arthur had to admit that the Academy was kind of known to shy away from the media’s portrayal high school, but this student just seemed to embody the type of git that would probably annoy everyone, whether it was going to be with his talent, looks or perfection. Ugh.
The dismissal bell finally rang, and to Arthur’s pleasure, it was taking this new student quite a while to pack up. He picked up his textbook and allowed himself to sit right beside the new student.
“Arthur Kirkland,” he introduced.
The new kid turned in surprise and blinked. “Oh, uh, hey dude. I’m Alfred Br-Jones.”
“Alfred Bruhjones?” Arthur mocked.
“Sorry. Uh, m’Alfred Jones.”
“A rather American name, if I might add. How’s the Academy, Newbie?”
The Bestest in Alfred's Life - 2/?
Much to Arthur’s dismay, it seemed as if the new student had suddenly vanished and it made Arthur curious because from the boy’s initial appearance, Arthur could have sworn he was also in twelfth grade. He swung his damned Physics book in his hand as he sauntered into his favourite science class, slamming his cursed book on a free desk in the lecture hall. Girls gave the Brit shy waves as always, and he would jerk his chin in response or wave his fingers dramatically. He
leaned back in his seat and began fumbling with his proud Union Jack-design tie. Sure, it was not the ugly maroon colour that was issued by the Academy but Arthur about as much fu-ks to that as he did to this mistake-of-a-course.
Just as his favourite professor started writing the class’s agenda on the board, a nervous knock caught Arthur, and a good majority of the girls’ attention. The Brit’s lips curved into a sly grin as he noticed the blond from the morning with a schedule in his hand. The boy awkwardly fumbled with his papers and thrust them at the professor.
“Welcome to the class, Mr. Br-er, Mr. Jones. Please take a seat.”
And take a seat “Mr. Jones” did. Arthur chuckled under his breath as the kid tried his best to look like he belonged by trying to find a seat beside someone with confidence and when he finally plunkered down three seats away from Arthur, the new student began unbuckling his backpack and pulling out a bunch of loose leaf papers and a thin notebook. It seemed to Arthur that this new student was clearly not a fan of a organization.
All throughout the lesson on the spectrum, Arthur half played with his undid tie, and a fiddled around with some poetry in his Physics notebook.
Occasionally his eye wandered and he found himself staring at how intently Jones was paying attention, so unlike a majority of the rest of the class.
Arthur came to the final conclusion that Jones tried just a wee too hard to fit in: the flashy ride to school, the huge arse body guard, the neatly pressed slacks and blazer, the over-eagerness to learn and the overall “Golden Boy” effect. Arthur had to admit that the Academy was kind of known to shy away from the media’s portrayal high school, but this student just seemed to embody the type of git that would probably annoy everyone, whether it was going to be with his talent, looks or perfection. Ugh.
The dismissal bell finally rang, and to Arthur’s pleasure, it was taking this new student quite a while to pack up. He picked up his textbook and allowed himself to sit right beside the new student.
“Arthur Kirkland,” he introduced.
The new kid turned in surprise and blinked. “Oh, uh, hey dude. I’m Alfred Br-Jones.”
“Alfred Bruhjones?” Arthur mocked.
“Sorry. Uh, m’Alfred Jones.”
“A rather American name, if I might add. How’s the Academy, Newbie?”