Chapter Text
The bell rang and Tucker reluctantly slammed his locker shut. And then stared at it for a good minute.
He didn’t want to go. He really, really didn’t want to go. Against his own will, he turned away from his locker and started trudging unhappily towards his next class, pulling out his phone to text Church on the way.
this fckin sux dude
He didn’t have to wait long for a reply.
Oh my fucking god r u still complaining about that
its ur own fault anyway
mr smartypants couldnt help trying for once
Tucker scowled at his phone screen, stopped a few feet away from the classroom. He hated that Church was right.
Usually, Tucker made sure to keep his grades on the high 60s, low 70s range, because doing any better made people expect things from you, which fucking sucked, and if you did worse, you would have to repeat a grade, which would suck even more. But his science teacher last year had made a comment about how “of course I shouldn’t have expected any better” and “I don’t know why he even bothers coming to class”, and there was no way Tucker was going to take that laying down. So on the final test, he pulled out all the stops and got the highest grade in the class just to spite her. It backfired horribly of course, (because that was his fucking life) and the teacher hated his guts, so she put his name forward for Advanced Science. And he got accepted in the placement, somehow. He had no idea how she managed to swing that with the administration, it wasn’t like he was doing any better in his other classes (at this point he was sure it was some kind of conspiracy to make him suffer). And he couldn’t refuse because his parents were so proud of him and hearing the news made Junior try harder at school, so here he was in an AP Science Class that was no doubt going to be the worst part of his school year. Even worse than Gym. Fuck his life.
how was I supposed to know there was an ap science class???
this school is shit they shouldnt be able to afford it
lina wouldn’t have come if there werent at least some ap classes
nor would dear old dad let us come if it wasnt up to his standards
tell that to the leaky ceilings
i swear one day it will just rot away and collapse on someone
hopefully me
stop bitching tucker
at least youre not in remedial math class with fucking CABOOSE
and the teacher fucking refuses to let me switch partners
its horseshit
i still cant believe you were put in that class
how the hell does a tech whiz fail math
how the fuck do you fail math when both your older sister and your girlfriend are fucking geniuses
lina has more important things to worry about
and do you really expect me to give that kind of ammo to tex?
sht g2g teach starin @ me
Tucker sighed before shoving his phone back in the pocket of his hoodie. He then murderously glared at his class’s door. He was already a good ten minutes late, but he didn’t care. He’d rather cut off his own arm and beat himself to death with it then go into class. But his mom had some kind of sixth sense for when he skipped class (Tucker was pretty sure she knew by how less miserable he was during the days he skipped) and he’d get in so much trouble for skipping, especially on the first day. Plus, avoiding the hall monitors was too much work. Better to zone out in class than to hide somewhere only to get caught and even get detention.
Tucker opened the door and entered the classroom, cutting off the teacher mid-lecture.
“Well, look who finally decided to show up. Lavernius Tucker, I take it?” The teacher, a blond, white man asked, pushing his square-rimmed glasses higher up his nose.
“Yep,” Tucker answered, a winning smile on his face, hands shoved into his jeans pockets.
The teacher raised an eyebrow, clearly not impressed. “I see. Well, I’m your science teacher for the year, Professor Doyle. You just missed the opportunity to choose your lab partner for the year, so you’ll be working with Mr. David Washington. Why don’t you go join him in the back of the class?”
Oh, goddamnit. If he hadn’t taken his sweet time, he might have been able to partner up with a chick, making the class at least slightly more tolerable.
Swallowing his disappointment (because like hell he was going to show the teacher any vulnerability), he made his way towards the back of the class, and the one table that had a spot free. At least his partner knew where the best spot to sit was.
Tucker couldn’t actually see his partner because his blond head was turned to stare out the window, and honestly, Tucker couldn’t blame him. However, as he approached the seat, the kid must’ve sensed movement because he turned to glare murderously at Tucker, which was, y’know, fucking rude. But Tucker also valued his wellbeing and safety, and he honestly felt way beyond threatened so he just sat in his seat, leaning far away as possible from his potentially violent partner.
He wasn’t even kidding about feeling threatened. Tucker was used to being glared at with the promise of extreme violence in the person’s eyes; he grew up with Church and Carolina, and spent time with Tex. Not to mention that he enjoyed being a little shit and annoying the hell out of them, so yes, he knew what it was like to be toeing the very thin line before bodily harm and gotten that cold warning (had even gone a step past it a few times and paid the consequences). But he’d gotten used to it, to the point that it barely bothered him anymore. Hell, most of the time he would grin back, completely unrepentant, and get either a fond sigh in return or a fond punch in the shoulder (that actually hurt like a bitch, so maybe not that fond).
But this kid. His glare made the hair rise on the back of his neck and made him was tense up completely, almost bracing himself to get pummelled at some point (not that Tucker would take it lying down. One of the benefits of growing up with Lina and having Tex as a friend was that neither of them took to them being hurt very well and did what they could to prepare them for a fight). There was something almost ferocious in his gaze, and his grey eyes were cold. The deep bags underneath his eyes didn’t help in the least, nor the numerous band-aids that criss-crossed his face, and Tucker got the distinct impression that the kid was pissed, fucking tired with the world in general, and was perfectly a-okay with murdering a dude. Tucker knew, at least, that Lina and Tex actually liked him a little bit (that or he was so far beneath them that murdering him would be a waste of their time) but it was obvious that his lab partner did not give a single shit about him or anyone and had no compunction to even pretend like he wouldn’t hurt someone.
That being the case, Tucker was careful to avoid looking directly at him, keeping his gaze directed at either the guy’s hands that were being covered with his oversized grey hoodie (a weirdly adorable sight that did not fit with the guy’s general attitude and made Tucker kind of uncomfortable) or at the teacher at the front.
But the teacher was giving that stupid spiel of the general rules of the school and class, the same stupid rules that Tucker had been hearing in all of his classes, at the beginning of every school year, and he could already feel his brain cells dying off, listening to him. He was, of course, in a class of giant geeks, which meant everyone else was paying attention (or they were pretending they were, because they thought it was important to be polite to teachers for some reason). The only one who wasn’t was this Washington person sitting next to him, who, after glaring at Tucker for even existing, had likely assumed his warning at been well received, and had turned back to stare out the window. So Tucker kept glancing at him from the corner of his eye.
He was curious, all right? So sue him. Not many people were that vicious on a first meeting and damn if there wasn’t something vaguely familiar about the dude. Some memory was niggling at the back of his mind but for the life of him, Tucker couldn’t remember. It definitely had something to do with the guy’s attitude, Tucker was almost sure of it. Come to think of it, Tucker had been in this tiny school for most of his life and could at least recognize everybody’s faces, but this guy seemed kind of new…
In his distraction, Tucker’s glances became less discrete peeks and turned into blatant staring, his eyes roaming over the guy’s form because seriously who the fuck was he? What was Tucker missing? Washington’s shoulders hunched a little bit and he turned back to glare at Tucker again.
“What?” he hissed.
Tucker’s eyes widened, the memory finally slotting into place. Oh. Oh, shit.
“Nothing, dude. Sorry,” Tucker said, turning back to the front. From the corner of his eye, Tucker could see Washington scowl, somehow looking even angrier, before turning to the front as well (and call him paranoid, but Tucker was certain he was doing it so he could keep Tucker in his line of sight).
God fucking damnit. He was going to have David fucking Washington as his class partner for the rest of the year?
Discretely, Tucker pulled out his phone and started texting Church.
Dude get me the fuck out of this class
STOP. BITCHING. DO YOU DO ANYTHING ELSE WITH YOUR LIFE
Im paired with DAVID WASHINGTON Church, I think that calls for some bitching
Oh
Shit
That was putting it mildly, in Tucker’s opinion. Washington had transferred into their high school during the last few months of the school year. Usually, Tucker would’ve had zero idea because he wasn’t in any of his classes, would’ve probably only heard about it from Donut who knew everything about everyone, if it weren’t for the fact that everyone in the school was talking about him. There were so many rumours flying around about him; that he was drug addict, that he was on medication, that he had transferred because he had killed one of his previous classmates… And even though Tucker didn’t pay close attention to rumours, the sheer amount of rumours and how dark they were was enough to make him uneasy. Washington made such an impression that whenever he showed up in the corridors, a hush would fall over the other students and they would start whispering to each other, obviously talking about him. Tucker had only witnessed a few of those moments, but he could guess it got old really fucking quick. No wonder he was always in a bad mood.
And usually that would make Tucker sympathetic, because goddamn dude, this school was treating him like a wild animal, liable to attack them without any provocation. But then, after a few weeks of this happening, some of the school bullies had skipped school for a few days and then came back bruised to hell, some of them with broken wrists or legs. It was fucked up. Tucker had zero idea how or why it had happened, but he sure as hell was planning to stay as far away from Washington as possible. And the entire school felt the same, because there was always a wide berth between him and every other student in the school. Summer vacation had let him forget, but confronted with him again, it brought it all back, along with the unease and fear.
At least he’s not as bad as Felix?
Tucker scowled. Fair point
Felix was the biggest and most asshole-ish douchebag in the universe. An idea struck Tucker that had him eyeing Washington speculatively. Wash seemed to have something against assholes… Maybe Tucker could convince him to break Felix’s leg? Because if there was one person who fucking deserved to get the shit kicked out him, it was Felix, and the fucking coward always made sure to piss him off when he wasn’t around the others. Tucker may be a lover and not a fighter, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to be left the fuck alone.
Washington probably noticed he was staring again, but didn’t turn around this time. He did look ten thousand times more tense though, and got tenser and tenser as the silence between them stretched on. Desperate to break the silence, and hopefully stop Washington from completely locking up his joints, Tucker blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
“Soooooo… Your name is David Washington right? Mine’s Lavernius Tucker, but most people call me Tucker. You have a preference for what I call you?”
Okay, so not as bad as talking about the weather, but not the most interesting topic of conversation. Still, Tucker waited patiently for Washington to respond. A minute passed, then two, then three, and Washington was still resolutely staring at Professor Doyle, continuing to blather on about regulations and assignments in the future. A bit annoyed, Tucker sighed and turned towards the front too.
“Come on, dude, we’re partners now. Calling you David Washington the entire time is going to get old real fast. And you probably wouldn’t want me to come up with a nickname for you.” Bored, and uninterested with what the teacher was saying, Tucker opened up his notebook and started doodling shapes in the margins of the paper.
“Though on second thought, whatever nickname I come up for you would be ten times better than anything Caboose or Church would come up with. Church would probably call you something like ‘buttmunch’, but he’s an asshole like 99% of the time, so don’t take it personally. Caboose would… Dude, I’m not even sure what Caboose would call you, who knows what goes on inside his head most of the time.”
“Washington,” a voice interrupted his rambling monologue, and honestly thank God, Tucker had zero idea what the fuck he was even going on about, just that he had to fill the silence in some way. “Just call me Washington.” His voice was quiet, but curt and there was a serious ‘shut-the-fuck-up’ note in it.
Tucker flashed him a huge grin, before turning back to his doodles.
“Will do, dude.”
It became silent once again, while Tucker tried and failed repeatedly to pay attention to the class, and Washington was stiff and radiating ‘I will hurt you’ vibes that made Tucker super uneasy. It was obvious that Washington didn’t actually want to be here and hated the world around him. What was Tucker supposed to do? Ignore him and hope for the best?
At the very least, they were going to be lab partners, and Tucker sure as shit wasn’t going to go through this fucking class weathering Wash’s hostility, nor spend it in complete silence. Fuck that noise. Tucker was going to befriend Washington if it was the last thing he did.