Chapter Text
Mickey heard other students talking about a transfer student today. It wasn’t the stereotypical ‘he’s so hot!’ or ‘I wanna sit next to him!’. He actually felt kinda bad for the guy. He hasn’t seen him, but a lot of people are making jokes.
People are making fun of his supposed long hair, his bad english, his accent… Mickey thinks that he shouldn’t really care. He probably doesn’t have any classes with this new guy anyway, so he throws his bag on his back at the ring of the bell sounding the end of lunch break.
He strolls on to his next period, computer science. He hasn’t had computer science since Friday last week, and this new kid joined on Monday, so he may well be in his class, but he’s probably some shitty road-man that decided to do physical education GCSE.
When he walks in, the teacher promptly pulls him aside and speaks to him quietly.
“Mickey, you’ve heard about that transfer, right?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, since you haven’t gotten a single negative point in your five years at this school, I’ve decided to sit him next to you.”
About that, Mickey is a bit of a people pleaser. Not an attention seeking one perse, but he really hates when someone dislikes something he’s done. It makes him feel like a mistake. He hates being yelled at and hates being excluded.
“Oh. Okay.” Mickey nods.
Shit, he’s in this class? Maybe, since the guys also interested in computer science, they can be friends.
Mickey sits down in his usual seat, waiting for the guy to turn up. He assumes that he’s running late, probably lost. Then, one minute after lesson starts, a tall, tanned, brown-haired boy walks in, and the teacher points him beside Mickey.
He sits down and smiles at Mickey.
“Hello.”
Oh, he does have an accent.
“Hello. What’s your name?
His hair isn’t even that long.
“Louai.”
“That’s a very nice name.” Then Mickey remembers his humiliating name. God, he hates that stupid word he calls his ‘name’. “My name is Micheal.” He lies. He’s lied to a lot of people about it, so a good few people know him as Micheal.
“Micheal. Cool.”
“I noticed your accent, um, where are you from?” Mickey leans over and turns on Louai’s computer for him.
“I’m from Egypt. Arabic.”
“Oh, that’s really cool.”
“You’re from here? England?”
“Yeah. Not a great reputation to have. For some reason everything has to be about America, y’know?”
“Hah, yes. America. It seems boring.”
Mickey nods and types up a username for Louai. Louai inspects Mickey’s face as he sits closer to type on the other’s keyboard. His hair is a light dirty blonde colour, really curled at the end but not coils. His eyes are a prominent green colour, and the light from the computer makes them brighter. He’s pretty when he’s focused. Louai tips his head slightly right, then Mickey hands him the keyboard.
“Make a password. That there is your username, that goes in the top box, and the password goes into the bottom box. You aren’t supposed to tell anyone your password.”
“Not even you?”
“You can if you want to. I’m not well known enough to use it against you.” Mickey shrugs, sitting back in-front of his own computer again.
Louai seems baffled.
“What should I make it?” He asks, staring at the empty password box.
“You can’t think of anything?”
“No.”
“What about… DogsAreFluffy123. It’s simple and you should remember it?”
“Okay. That one.”
“Do you have any pets?”
“No. You?”
“Yeah. I have a chameleon, Rockie.” Mickey feels powerful when he tells people about his exotic pet.
“That’s very cool. We can’t have many pets like that in Egypt.”
“Yeah, I imagine. Do you have any siblings? I have Max.”
“Max?” Louai thinks, he only has one brother? “I have three brothers and a sister.”
“That’s a lot of siblings. Are you the youngest?”
“No. It is my older brother. Then my brother. Then me. Then my sister. Then my brother.”
“So you’re in the middle? It must be a nightmare.” Mickey realises that Louai is in fact not typing the password, so he leans forward and does it instead.
“It’s okay.”
“So, Louai, have you made any friends yet?”
“No. Can you be my friend?”
“Well, sure. I don’t have any friends anyway.”
“That’s sad. Are you okay, Micheal?” Louai’s face is sympathetic and worried.
Mickey’s heart breaks. This kid is so sweet, why is he hearing bad stuff about him?! He feels so guilty for lying to him about his name. He says ‘Micheal’ so sweetly, like he’s genuinely worried. It would be nice to hear someone so worried about him and using his real name. He’ll tell him one day. If they’re even friends that long.
He then realises where he is, leaning into this guy’s personal space, the foreign boy staring dead in his eyes, and he can’t help but fluster a little. His pale, freckled cheeks turn a darker pink shade.
“No, uh… I’m okay, Louai. Thank you, though. But even if that was the case, you’re my friend now, right?” Mickey huffs nervously.
“Yes. We are friends now.”
“Who did you hang out with at lunch break?”
“No one.”
“Me too. We can start hanging out at lunches, if you want.”
Louai’s face lights up, his eyes wide in excitement. “We can?”
Mickey finally types the password and sits back, smiling at the other guy. “Yeah, we’re friends now. You have a phone number, right? We aren’t allowed phones in school though, so I’ll write it down for you.”
Louai is over the moon. He frantically nods and watches Mickey find a small piece of paper and start writing. The second he’s done, he snatches it from the desk and reads the numbers with a big smile.
“Thank you. We are friends.”
This is the cutest idiot Mickey’s ever met.
———————————————————————
After school, Mickey gets off the bus and walks to his house, throwing his bag down in his room after saying good afternoon to his parents. He slumps onto his bed, not even bothering to take off his uniform.
This is part of his routine. He stares at the wall or things on his bed for a good ten minutes at least.
But today, he can’t. Today, his phone is pinging and pinging and when he finally gives in to check… Yes, it’s Louai. Of course it is.
‘micheal’
‘micheal’
‘this is micheal’
Mickey picks up his phone and types back. “it’s ’is this micheal’, not ‘this is micheal’, louai”
It takes at least thirty seconds after the message is read to receive;
‘yes’
‘is this micheal’
“yes, this is micheal”
Suddenly his phone vibrates violently, so much so that he drops it. He’s being called. Seeing that it’s Louai, he picks up.
“Hello? Hello? Is this Micheal?”
“Louai, I’ve already told you that it’s me.”
“Oh. Hello Micheal. Good afternoon.”
“Good afternoon.” Mick slumps onto his back with a happy smile on his face. This new kid is so sweet. “What’s wrong? Why’d you call?”
“We can eat dinner together.”
“Like— Tonight?”
“Yes. I have here a sandwich.”
“Ohh, you mean on the phone?”
“Yes.”
“I can do that. Let me get my dinner, then.”
Louai requests for the phone to charge to video chat — and Mickey accepts. He balances his phone against the lamp on his bedside table, facing the door, and says, “I’ll be back in a sec. Stay there.”
And Lou sits completely still until Mickey comes back with his microwave carbonara. He sits on his bed and starts to eat.
“What you got?” Lou asks.
“Pasta. You? What’s in your sandwich?”
“M… Cheese.”
“Just cheese?”
Lou doesn’t respond, he just takes a bite. They eat in silence on the phone call, and when they’re done, for the first time in literally forever, Mickey doesn’t feel the need to take his empty bowl to the kitchen.
“Was that a good sandwich, Lou? Can I call you Lou?”
“Yes. And yes. You can call me Lou.”
Mick is silently overjoyed. He’s actually made a friend! Even though he’s from another country, it feels like he’s been so close to this moment for his whole life and only now is he reaching it.
“Cool. Have you made any other friends in school yet?” Mickey picks up his phone and holds it while he lays down.
“No. They are… Rude.”
Mickey’s expression instantly hardens. “Rude how?”
“About my face.”
“Are they racist? Are they racist to you?!” Mickey bolts upright and stares at the phone.
“A little bit, I think—“
“Who?! You have to show me who. Tomorrow. At school.” Mickey seethes in anger.
“I know his name.”
“What is it?!”
“Uh… Isaac.”
“Oh. Him. I hate him. He’s horrible to me. It’s okay, I’ll talk to him.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, I can.” While Mickey is terrified of confrontation, he’ll willingly talk to an asshole to defend his friends (like he had any before today). It’s a little far fetched, but he’d do quite a lot for his new friend, the Egyptian boy on the other side of the screen, Louai.