Chapter Text
Logan had just finished grabbing his chemistry book from his locket when it smashed shut with a loud clang, barely missing his fingers.
“Hey, Nerd!”
Logan sighed and turned to see Roman Sawyer, Prince of South Side, glaring at him.
“You know the drill, hand over the cash,” Roman demanded.
Logan reached into his backpack and pulled out one of the five-dollar bills he kept stashed in for his ‘lunch’. He had learned a long time ago it was best to just do what Roman said, lest he end up trapped in the bathroom, surrounded by his Boys.
“Pleasure doing business with you,” the Prince said, shoved Logan into his locker, and walked away.
This was the second time this week that Roman had demanded money and Logan was worried he’d soon run out. The thought of what Roman and his Boys would do to him if he didn’t pay sent a spike of terror down his spine.
Shaking himself, he made his way to the cafeteria, to the very back table where Logan’s only friend was waiting for him.
“Roman wanted money again?” Patton asked.
“Yeah,” Logan said with a huff as he tossed his textbook book on the table and sat down. He pulled the paper lunch bag out of his backpack.
“You should say something to someone.”
“You should stop saying I ‘should say something’. You know I can’t stand repetition,” Logan bit back. He regretted his words when he saw the look on the other boy’s face. “Apologies,” he said, “It just irks me that I have to deal with this kind of treatment every day just because Prince Roman has built himself a dictatorship.”
“So, say something,” Patton argued again.
“It won’t help. His reign of terror has lasted three years and none of the faculty has done anything to stop him,” Logan said, defeated. “You’re lucky you’re the oldest one here, or I’m sure the same thing would be happening to you.”
“Oh, I still have some trouble with Roman’s little gang,” Patton said. “It may not have been my fault I got held back a year, but they don’t know that and they like to use that against me on occasion.”
A sudden, loud sound caught both of the boys’ attention. In the back corner, nearest the two, Jackson Taylor, one of Roman’s Boys, had cornered a small student, a freshman judging by his size. Jackson had knocked the boy’s lunch tray to the ground and glared at the dark-haired student. Jackson muttered a few more indistinct insults before turning away and stomping off.
The boy crouched to try to salvage his lunch and Patton jumped up to help him.
“I don’t need your help,” the boy said behind his fringe of dark brown hair.
“I’d like to help,” Patton said with a warm smile. “Here, come sit with me and my friend.”
“It’s my friend and me, Patton,” Logan said, once the two were seated. “I’m Logan and my helpful companion is Patton. What is your name?”
“Virgil.”
“Well, Virgil. Welcome to South Side High and the worst next four years of your life,” Logan proclaimed. “You can have part of my sandwich.”
“Logan,” Patton chided, “Try to instil some sense of hope into our new freshman friend.”
“I’m not a freshman,” Virgil said quietly.
“Oh, what year are you?” Patton asked.
“I’m a senior, like you two. I’d had classes with both of you for two years,” he lifted his accusatively and Logan and Patton finally saw the face of the small boy. His face with powdered with pale foundation and thick eyeliner ringed his eyes.
“Apologies, I never noticed you,” Logan said.
“Good. No one was ever supposed to,” Virgil muttered, picking at the crust of the bread.
“I know you!” Patton exclaimed. “You’re in my psychology class. You always sit in the back and never say anything.”
“Yep, sounds like me.”
“You should eat,” Patton said.
Finally, Virgil took a small bite of the sandwich.
Seeming satisfied, Patton continued. “So, what was up with Jackson Terrible?”
“Apparently, a rumor has started to spread that his girlfriend was caught with her tongue down another guy’s throat. He wasn’t ready to hear the truth and was under the delusion that I started it.”
“Did you?” Logan asked.
“Well, yeah. But he doesn’t have to know that,” Virgil said with a devilish grin.