Chapter Text
Third Person POV
Chemistry Class
Velma and Daphne sat in their Chemistry class where once again the teacher put the instructions on the board and read a book at her desk. This was not a problem for our duo as whenever they worked together, Velma would perform the experiment (occasionally attempting to get her to participate) and leave a sample of the results with the teacher and Daphne would stare in space, dreaming of a certain blond trapper. It was not out of the norm for the heiress to be distracted by her crush even when he was not in their presence, but the longer he spurned her advances the more melancholy she became. It worked against them both that he was oblivious to anything outside of his passion and she was unwilling to tell him her feelings without knowing for sure if he felt the same. If only her personal issues did not seep into her school life.
“Did you want to check the pH, you know, so you can say you did something today? Besides stare in space,” Velma said handing the box of litmus paper to her friend.
With a sigh she took the box and without looking poured all of the strips into the beaker. “NO!” Velma yelled with a frantic shout grabbing the box just as the entire stack fell out. As she stared at the wasted litmus paper she barely heard the professor distractedly say, “Be quiet over there,” without looking up from his book.
“Daphne that was the entire stock for this year!” Velma said looking almost concerned at how her friend didn’t even seem to notice. “You are going to be the one to tell the teacher,” She said trying to replicate the experiment before the class ended so that they had something to turn in while avoiding any classmate that was looking for Litmus paper. As they left the classroom, she steered Daphne, still in a daze, to the teacher’s desk. As she went to wait in the hallway, she couldn’t help but mutter, “Talk about boy crazy.”
Woodworking class
Fred Jones was in his element this period; he was in his favorite class and was making a scale model of a mangonel catapult that he planned to take home afterwards to add to his collection. He was the star pupil of the class and always managed to make something interesting for the teacher to marvel at, especially with the poor materials provided by the school. Fred, for as long as he had been in this class, would bring model versions of his trap ideas to life and as long as he got to look at them beforehand the professor would let him take them home. Everyone else in the class had long since given up on trying to impress the professor for a higher grade as the mayor’s son had long since had a monopoly on the man’s affections. Every week he would come in early and spend the entire period in a frenzy making complicated structures out of wood that the teacher would inevitably show off to the class before loudly announcing that he had earned an ‘A’ for the day.
Spanish Class
Shaggy and his faithful dog Scooby sat in Spanish class, at the back, waiting for the bell that would take them to the lunch period. Every day, as the time got closer to the next meal and further away from when they last ate something, the two best friends would fall into a trance-like state where all that was on their mind was food. It was a strange part of life that all of their teachers ignored the fact that Scooby was a dog and not enrolled in their class. It was almost certainly due to the fact that he could speak and partially due to the fact that he was the only entertaining part of their day of teaching uninspired minors. One of the more accommodating teachers was the Spanish teacher who spent most of the participation aspect of the class trying to relate everything to the interests of the students.
“Señor Rodgers, dígame tres tipos de comida mexicana por favor?” she said addressing the daydreaming teen. He sighed with a dreamy expression and came to the front of the class taking some coloured chalk.
“Chimichanga, Huarache y taquitos,” he said as he drew on the board. Dazed and drooling he returned to his seat only to stare at the drawings he made. The teacher ignored the unnecessary visual aid, thanked him and moved on to another student.
Third Person POV
“Hi Freddy!” Daphne almost yelled across the hallway as they all finished their last class of the day. “Hey gang,” he said fishing around in his bag, presumably for the keys to the gang, not noticing how she deflated as he greeted the entire group and not her specifically.
“Let me guess, you’re on the verge of starvation?” Velma half-asked snapping her fingers in the faces of the foodie pair that were still in a daze. Once again, they had forgotten their bags and were off somewhere in their own heads.
“What’s that Freddy?” Daphne asked, ignoring the others. “Oh yeah guys, I can’t wait for our next mystery because this bad boy is for sure gonna catch something,” He said holding up his model for the day.
This was how things were whenever they were having a mystery dry spell. They would go to school, go somewhere to eat, plan traps for the next one and then go their separate ways. They each had their specialties and unfortunately, they did not intersect. Fred was the trap expert who designed most of the traps that they used; he spent a large amount of his free time reading about traps, designing new traps and buying materials online. Had it not been for how distracted he was by mysteries he could look into a career in Engineering. Velma was the researcher of the group, she spent her free time researching as much about the town and the surrounding area as possible and was constantly finding new ways to analyze the clues that they found, her inventions getting more and more complex, the more adventures that they went on. She could go into any field of science that she wanted to and once she was discovered, universities would be clamoring for her enrollment. Shaggy and Scooby were by far the most unlucky of the group; most of the time, whatever monster they were looking for would chase the two who would then lead them into a trap that the other would have set up. Daphne was the only member of the group that did not have a solid purpose; she was rich, beautiful and unmotivated to do anything other than pursue Fred and mysteries.
Only time would tell if this group of friends would survive the turbulent times to come, soon they would be in their final year and be deciding where they would go, be it university or elsewhere. They had come together years ago, accidentally solving a mystery involving an old abandoned house and then they, bonded by the thrill of the chase, became the mystery solving team that they were now. Had it not been for that incident it is a mystery if they would have even become friends at all, by all rights they were from different social classes, had different interests and vastly differing skill levels.