🄽🄾🅁🅃🄷🄴🅁🄽 🄾🄽🅃🄰🅁🄸🄾, 🄲🄰🄽🄰🄳🄰
"The hell is this?" asked a boy with messy brown hair in his white boxers, while holding up the black sweater given to him, with his new school's insignia, which is basically a blue circle with a golden J stitched on one side of the chest area of the sweater.
🄽🄰🄼🄴: 🅂🄲🄾🅃🅃 🄿🄸🄻🄶🅁🄸🄼
🅃🄷🄴 🅃🅁🄰🄽🅂🄵🄴🅁 🅂🅃🅄🄳🄴🄽🅃
🄷🄰🅂 🅃🄷🄴 🄱🅁🄰🄸🄽 🄲🄰🄿🄰🄲🄸🅃🅈 🄾🄵 🄰 3 🅈🄴🄰🅁 🄾🄻🄳
"It's the uniform your school asked you to wear, little brother." A girl with jet black hair that reached to her upper back, said to Scott as she leaned on the doorframe of his room, rolling her eyes as she talked.
🄽🄰🄼🄴: 🅂🅃🄰🄲🄴🅈 🄿🄸🄻🄶🅁🄸🄼
🅂🄲🄾🅃🅃'🅂 🅈🄾🅄🄽🄶🄴🅁 🅂🄸🅂🅃🄴🅁
🅃🄷🄴 🄼🄾🅁🄴 🄼🄰🅃🅄🅁🄴 🄿🄸🄻🄶🅁🄸🄼
"Oh, and you need to wear this under that." Stacey said as she tossed to Scott a white buttoned-up shirt, which Scott caught and grimaced once he laid it out.
"Why do I have to wear all of this?" Scott whined as he slammed his body onto his bed and buried his face onto his pillow, gesturing to the pieces of clothing laid out on his room. His voice was pretty high for someone who has already reached and has gone past his puberty years.
1.) 🅆🄷🄸🅃🄴 🄱🅄🅃🅃🄾🄽🄴🄳-🅄🄿 🅂🄷🄸🅁🅃
2.) 🄻🄰🄼🄴-🄰🅂🅂 🄱🄻🄰🄲🄺 🅂🄲🄷🄾🄾🄻 🅂🅆🄴🄰🅃🄴🅁
3.) 🅃🄸🄶🄷🅃 🄱🄻🄰🄲🄺 🅂🄻🄰🄲🄺🅂
4.) 🄷🄰🄽🄳-🄼🄴-🄳🄾🅆🄽 🄱🄻🄰🄲🄺 🄻🄴🄰🅃🄷🄴🅁 🅂🄷🄾🄴🅂
"Because it's a catholic school, Scott. And you know damn well, catholic schools have lame-ass uniforms." Stacey scolded, which earned her a groan from her brother.
Scott has always been one to draw the short straw, which left her and her other brother to either set their eldest brother straight, or just make his day worse. Their parents, were a different story.
They were just never home, let's call it like that.
"Have fun, little brother." Stacey said in a sing-song voice, as she left Scott's room and walked down to the living room.
"I'm the older sibling here!" Scott leaned out of his doorway and shouted at Stacey's retreating figure, as she went down the stairs.
With an inaudible grumble he went back inside of his room, and slammed his door hard with a wham. He looked at the stupid uniform the school asked him to wear, he was aware that catholic schools were known for their uniforms, but he was not aware that they were so strict about it.
'Seriously! Why is the uniform even important?!'
He furiously scratched his head, making his already messy brown hair even messier. Give him a couple of years to grow that hair and it'll turn shaggy. He glared at the uniform set.
He can at least wear the slacks, shirt, and sweater.
Then his eyes go directly onto his shoes.
No, no way in hell he's wearing that.
He grabbed the hand-me-down shoes and opened his window, he grabbed one piece of the show with his one hand and reared his hand back. In a swift motion he brought his arm forward and with a flick of his wrist the shoe came flying out the window, due to the sheer force of the throw the show lit up like a meteorite and crashed into some guy's lawn, a few houses down the road. He could've sworn he smell something burn.
100 🄿🅃🅂! 🄰🅁🅂🄾🄽🄸🅂🅃!
As for the other shoe, he pondered at which direction he should throw the other piece of clothing. Finally deciding on one, he planted one foot firmly and directly on the window sill, then he leaned out the window so his torso it just outside.
It has always seemed strange to Scott to see the streets being covered by anything but snow, to this day Scott still doesn't know if being a Canadian is a gift or a curse. At least on one end people won't accuse him of doing anything wrong, except maybe other Canadians, which his whole family are. He looked around the connected houses of the cul-de-sac that he and his family lived in, the birds singing wonderfully, but Scott knew they would migrate somewhere else in a few months, the leaves are falling like there's no tomorrow, and Ned Miller is there raking the stray orange leaves that may have fallen on his lawn.
Scott won't say it loudly but the Millers were kind of a weird family. Or in his opinion because they're the type of family to take their own hygiene very seriously, suppose he can't blame them, almost all of them have OCD and they won't stop until they see they reflection in their marbled flooring.
How did Scott know that they have marble flooring?
It was because he accidentally broke in their house one night after some late night party he totally had his parents approve him to go. (ℍ𝕖 𝕝𝕚𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕙𝕖 𝕙𝕒𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕡𝕖𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕙𝕖 𝕣𝕒𝕟 𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕒𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕞 𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕠𝕨, 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕠𝕟.)Why did he break into their house? Well, that's another story for another day.
Shaking himself out of the daze that he put himself in, he reared his right hand and repeated what he had done with the other piece of shoe. He watched as the shoe go flying straight into the sun before arching downwards, spiraling inside the ball of fire it was trapped in and went down. He heard an ear-splitting scream, which made him wince and clumsily went back into his room before someone called the cops on him. Which wouldn't be the first time it happened. He's going to have to apologize to whoever he sees next that has a big bump on their head.
500 🄿🅃🅂! 🄷🄴🄰🄳🅂🄷🄾🅃!
Now, what the hell is he going to wear as a replacement?
He looked around his room and he enthusiastically opened his closet doors, and planned to rummage the inside of it for some replacement shoes. What met Scott inside his closet is a wide disarray of clothing, ranging from his lame colorful shirts, to his similarly colorful wristbands being laid out wherever he chose to place it in the closet. One of his dirty underwear was poking out of one of the drawers and his socks smelled like they hadn't been washed for years, other than that, his clothes were just a complete mess. He searched deeper in his closet, almost putting his whole torso in the piece of furniture, and at the very back of the pile of pants and dirty underwear he saw one piece his white Adidas Superstar. Grabbing it with gusto, he searched for the other piece, it took him about a minute of flinging his clothes out of his closet, to finally give up. He looked around his room and brightened up to see the other pair just by the nightstand, and with that he has his trademark shoes back.
🅃🅁🄰🄳🄴🄼🄰🅁🄺 🅂🄷🄾🄴🅂 🄾🄱🅃🄰🄸🄽🄴🄳!
Okay, it's showtime.
🅆🄷🄸🅃🄴-🄱🅄🅃🅃🄾🄽🄴🄳 🅄🄿 🅂🄷🄸🅁🅃 = 🄴🅀🅄🄸🄿🄿🄴🄳!
🅂🄻🄰🄲🄺🅂 = 🄴🅀🅄🄸🄿🄿🄴🄳!
🄻🄰🄼🄴 🅂🄲🄷🄾🄾🄻 🅂🅆🄴🄰🅃🄴🅁 = 🄴🅀🅄🄸🄿🄿🄴🄳!
🅃🅁🄰🄳🄴🄼🄰🅁🄺 🅂🄷🄾🄴🅂 = 🄴🅀🅄🄸🄿🄿🄴🄳!
"Aaaaand. Done!" Scott patted the black sweater, to rid it of any creases and he marveled at his own reflection in the mirror.
Sure he looked like a dork, who has never been to a catholic school before— which he is— but when he started to flaunt on his shoes, is when really started to see his appeal. Which he always sees on a daily basis. He used this opportunity to pop his collar. With a click of the tongue, wink and finger gun point at his reflection he started walking out of his room and down the hall.
"Alright, St. Joel's, prepare to meet Scott Pilgrim." He declared to no one in particular but to himself and hopefully the message magically reached his new school.
And for once he wants to be able to eat his lunch in peace.
"It's a catholic school, the students there are usually good, right?" He muttered to himself again as he walked down the stairs, hearing each thump every time he walked down a step on the stairs.
"Think again, Scotty."
Scott was taken by surprise, to which he recoiled and pressed his back to the wall so hard he can feel the paint crack and clinging on his sweater. The person to surprise him was a boy younger than him, with square rimmed glasses, brown hair—a darker color than Scott's—and with casual clothing.
🄽🄰🄼🄴: 🄻🄰🅆🅁🄴🄽🄲🄴 🅆🄴🅂🅃 🄿🄸🄻🄶🅁🄸🄼
🅃🄷🄴 🄾🅃🄷🄴🅁 🄱🅁🄾🅃🄷🄴🅁
🅃🄷🄴 🄾🅃🄷🄴🅁 🄲🄷🄸🄻🄳
"Jesus, Lawrence, would you stop that?" Scott placed a hand on his chest to calm his racing heartbeats. "And why are you still here? I thought Benvie Tech High is strict on their 'Don't be late' policies." Scott exaggeratingly did some air quotes for emphasis.
Lawrence rolled his eyes, "It isn't even that far, Scott. Just a couple of blocks from the cul-de-sac, plus it's barely six in the morning."
"Still can't believe that mom and dad decided to enroll you there." Scott grumbled.
"Scott, you and I both know that if we switch schools, you wouldn't survive a single minute of the nerdy mumbo-jumbo BS that they teach there." Lawrence almost sounded like he was joking. Almost.
"You don't know that." Scott mumbled under his breath, unbeknownst to Lawrence, fortunately.
Scott finally made his way down their house's kitchen and joined their younger sister in the eating of the breakfast. He slid his chair away from the table— making a screeching sound with their tiled floor— and sat down, dragging the chair forward and the screeching came out from the friction between the metal and tile. He brought his hand to the silver utensil dipped in the milk and cereal inside his green bowl, Lawrence joined the two not long after, a cup of coffee in his hand, sipping while cross legged and leaning backwards on his seat with his arm draped on the back of the chair.
"Scott..." Stacey suddenly broke the silence, getting the attention of her big brother successfully. She had an unimpressed look on her face when she looked at the tiny puddle of milk just above Scott's top lip.
Scott could only gulp the milk and soggy cereal in his mouth, and looked at his little sister with that same wide-eyed confused stare. But she was using the tone their mother would use whenever she's annoyed, she would elongate the O in his name and not make direct eye contact at him. What the hell did he do this time?!
Stacey let go of her spoon and let it rest on the rim of the bowl, while she puts her elbows on the table and crossed her arms. Looking directly into Scott's eyes, causing him to swallow his spit loudly.
"You're not wearing your leather shoes. You know, the shoes that our aunt gave specifically to you?" Those hand-me-downs were from their cousin, who has been is currently looking for a job in America. Last time Scott heard from their cousin was that he was freeloading from his roommate in some shady apartment. Yeah, Scott refuses to do the same.
Back to Stacey, she was giving Scott the smile. That menacing smile.
The smile that says to prepare your butt, because she is bound to shove so many things with ranging sizes up that tiny hole of yours if you can't give her a good answer or if you didn't do whatever she says in the next 15 seconds. Both of which Scott can't do very well or do at all in the time he has lived.
"Scott..." She's still using the tone. She's now propping her elbows on the table and clasped her hands and brought it up, covering her mouth but Scott knows that she still has that devilish grin. "You're sweating bullets."
He gulped more loudly some more, wiping the droplets of sweat dripping from his forehead with the sleeve of his sweater, and he condemns his own sister for being way more perceptive than he is, or would ever be. He then brought his attention to their other sibling who seemed totally oblivious and enjoying his own cup of joy, Scott was basically glaring at him hoping that that would somehow get his attention but it would seem like he won't budge. Or Lawrence did notice Scott was glaring, to which he just decided to ignore his older brother. The latter was highly likely, to which Scott also condemns his own younger brother for treating him like some sort of punching bag for his amusement, and Scott was not afraid of using other means to wipe that amused smile off of his brother's face. But sadly, the same can't be said to his other sibling.
🄿🄴🄴 🄼🄴🅃🄴🅁: 🄾🄽 🅃🄷🄴 🅅🄴🅁🄶🄴 🄾🄵 🅆🄴🅃🅃🄸🄽🄶 🄷🄸🅂 🄾🅆🄽 🄿🄰🄽🅃🅂
Wait! The pee excuse!
Scott has always carried this desperate card on his sleeve.
- 🅂🄲🄾🅃🅃'🅂 🄵🄰🅅🄾🅁🄸🅃🄴.
- 🄷🄰🅂 🄰 99.99% 🄲🄷🄰🄽🄲🄴 🄾🄵 🄵🄰🄸🄻🅄🅁🄴. (🄸🄵 🅃🄷🄴🅈'🅅🄴 🄽🄴🅅🄴🅁 🄼🄴🅃 🅈🄾🅄 🄱🄴🄵🄾🅁🄴. 🄾🅃🄷🄴🅁🅆🄸🅂🄴 🄸🅃'🅂 🄹🅄🅂🅃 🄰 🅆🄰🅂🅃🄴 🄾🄵 🅈🄾🅄🅁 🅃🄸🄼🄴.)
Desperate times, call for desperate measures. That would be the infamous quote of the one Scott Pilgrim. In truth, he nearly has no other plan of overcoming a conflict, other than fighting and using the desperate "Pee Excuse". No way in hell he was about to hit his own sister, so might as well try it. (𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕖𝕩𝕔𝕦𝕤𝕖 𝕙𝕒𝕤 𝕟𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕜𝕖𝕕 𝕠𝕟 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕔𝕖𝕪.)
"Uh... I actually..." Scott was sliding his chair away from the table, and planted his hand to push himself up from the chair. "Have to go... pee..." Scott was about to turn away from his sister, only to feel something snatch his wrist and pull him towards the table. Scott slipped to the point where he was on his knees, and his chin planted on the table, forcing him to look upwards at Stacey. Stacey kept her grip on Scott's wrist.
"You know that excuse never worked on me, Scott." Her grip tightened, and her face was now frowning.
Scott could only give her an awkward smile, and a shrug of his shoulders. "Worth a shot, am I right?"
"Tell that to the other nine-hundred ninety-nine shots." Stacey was unamused.
Then her face quickly came back to being angry.
Scott quickly closed his eyelids shut and used his other arm to try and prepare himself to lessen the pain of getting a black eye from his little sister.
"Scott, Stacey, Lawrence! Let's go or all of you would be late for school!" The siblings turned to look at the bottom of the stairs, to see their mother looking at them with a stern face, and their father fixing the watch on his wrist and looking for the keys for the car. Their parents both sported a shade of brown when it came their hair color, Scott managed to get their father's caramel brown color, with Lawrence taking their mother's dark brown, Stacey however had some mutation BS happening to her.
🄽🄰🄼🄴: 🄼🅁. & 🄼🅁🅂. 🄿🄸🄻🄶🅁🄸🄼
🄰🄶🄴: 40 / 38
🅃🄷🄴🅈 🄰🅁🄴 🄱🄾🅃🄷 🅂🄲🄾🅃🅃'🅂 🄿🄰🅁🄴🄽🅃🅂. (🅃🅁🅄🅂🅃 🄼🄴)
With a reluctant groan, Stacey let go of Scott's wrist and went to the living room to grab the one of the three small brown paper bags laid out on the coffee table—which contained their daily nutritious sustenance— slung her bag on one of her shoulders then went outside. Lawrence followed suit, which left Scott to tend his wrist.
His mother went towards him and decided to put his collar properly. She had a disdainful look on her face as she patted her son's shoulder.
"You look like a slob."
Scott could only roll his eyes, and grumble something unintelligible nonsense.
"Now, c'mon before you're late." She gave him a small smile.
Scott could only look at her retreating figure, with a hint of frustration. He grabbed his collar and popped them once again. His parents had always wanted their children to dress perfectly whenever it was the first day of their school, Scott didn't know why but if he had to guess it would probably make it look like they were the perfect family, and to further prove this both of his parents wear something elegant, whenever they were outside. Scott's dad would wear a suit and tie, and his mom would look like she was attending some sort of ball with that blue dress. Though their jobs aren't that far off, his dad works in some call center—meaning, he has to have a suit ready—and his mom works as a researcher in a big-shot company in Canada, although Scott does love their maple syrup don't get him wrong. But Scott just doesn't get why they need to prove to others something that isn't even true. At least, in his eyes.
With a grumble he grabbed his paper bag off the table, the bag crumpling in his grip, he slung his bag on his shoulder and he left the house and made sure to lock the door—this time—and pocketed his house keys, just in time to see their car parked just by the curb.
He went inside the car with a huff and shut the door a bit louder than usual, not that his parents seem to notice. He could only look away as his little sister seem to be starring daggers at him, he was fortunate that Lawrence had taken the middle seat. Their father started the engine, while their mother continued to put on her make-up using the car visors.
With a short thirty second drive just outside the cul-de-sac, Scott opened the door of the car and planted his feet on the sidewalk, slamming the door shut once he was outside. Scott could faintly see the looks of his sibling inside, how lucky it must feel to have to be driven to your own school, though Scott couldn't really blame them, his school was on the other way while his family has always been going the other way, Lawrence would be the next stop, then Stacey, then it was his parents, it was like killing four birds with one stone. For a moment, he thought that Stacey looked like she was pitying him, the same could be said for Lawrence but he completely brush it off to the valley of impossibility. Once the car had fully turned around and placed itself on the proper lane, he could just see his siblings looking back at him from the car window, as they went farther down the road.
And out of Scott's vision.
Were they feeling sorry for him?
Well they shouldn't be.
He doesn't need it.
And with that, he was on his way to his school.
Which is just a mile away from his home.
I could use the exercise, anyway.
🅂🅃. 🄹🄾🄴🄻'🅂 🄲🄰🅃🄷🄾🄻🄸🄲 🄷🄸🄶🄷 🅂🄲🄷🄾🄾🄻
"Wow, this is a pretty shit school."
Don't get Scott wrong, he wasn't talking about what the school looked like—in fact, the school was beautiful, not the best, but certainly not bad and the falling leaves definitely add some to the school's aura—what he was talking about though, was the behavior of the students.
He hadn't even stepped one foot into the school's pavement and he already saw someone getting their lunch bag ripped out of their hands. He probably shouldn't have expected so much even if it was a catholic school, and even if they live in Canada.
Letting out an irritated sigh, he heaved a breath and started walking to the front doors of the school. Which would have happened if someone didn't grab his shoulder and made him turn around.
And wouldn't you know it, it was those ass-wipes who took the other kid's lunch, one of them was already stuffing his face with some... peanut butter, jelly and sardines sandwich?
Who the hell though that was a great idea?!
Well considering the one stuffing his face was a bald fatass inside and out, Scott couldn't really blame him for not being picky with his food.
Now on to the matter at hand, he crossed his arms across his chest and quirked an eyebrow at the other two retards. One wanted to prove so much that he was so emo, he had to cover one of his eyes with his blonde bangs like one of those anime characters—Scott can already feel himself shaving half of this guy's hair, and it was the side covering his eye—the other had the words "Snot" written all over him, considering he could definitely see the snot dropping from his nose.
These guys are the bullies of this school?
"The hell do you guys want?" Scott irritatingly said.
"Cutting right into the chase. Saves me a lot of time" The 'emo' kid smirked.
"Yeah, that's why I said it, so you guys can just go back to being brothers with different fathers." Scott could barely stifle a giggle at what he said.
I'm laughing at my own joke! Who the hell does that?!
He could definitely see the emo kid getting irritated, while the other two were just there—especially mister snot, he just keeps on staring at the sky—fatty kept on sucking his fingers. The emo guy tried playing it cool, by flicking his bangs, which Scott finally deduced that this fine piece of specimen before him has definitely watched a bunch of anime before.
"Since, you're new here..." He returned to smirking and crossed his arms. "I'll give you a pass, this-!"
"Imma stop you right there." Scot cut the guy off. "I've had a pretty shitty morning, and I'm looking for something to vent on, so..."
He immediately let go of the lunch bag in his hand and it fell flat on the ground, followed by him unslinging his bag from his shoulder, and it too fell to the ground with a crash. He raised his fists, and grinned at his three latest opponents. He's been waiting for this all summer. Not that, he wasn't beating somebody up in that time.
"We fighting or what?"
🄿🅁🄸🄽🄲🄸🄿🄰🄻 🅆🄷🄰🅃🅂🄷🄸🅂🄽🄰🄼🄴'🅂 🄾🄵🄵🄸🄲🄴
"Ooh." A girl with blonde hair, that almost covers the back of her neck, sat outside of the door, wincing at the condition of the brown-haired boy beside her. "So what're you in for?" She asked with a smile. She was wearing the standard St. Joel's High School uniform for girls, which is a black sweater best with the school's insignia on one of the chest, with a white buttoned-up shirt under it, and a black skirt.
The brown-haired boy kept the ice pack on his hand, hoping that the bump on his head would swell down. "I got into a fight..." He removed the ice pack from his head and gave the girl a smirk. "An awesome fight."
The girl seemed to have brightened and was rid of all the boredom she had. "Did you win?" She was expecting a yes.
"I..." His eyes widened and his smile slowly turned upside down. "...didn't, actually." His eyes looked down on the ground—if only fatty didn't suddenly give him a German Suplex, he would've tore the guy's hair off— he saw the pink sneakers she had on her person, if he had to guess why she was here it was she wore the wrong uniform. He respects that.
"Oh." She's not going to lie. She was disappointed. "Well, what's your name?"
"Scott. Scott Pilgrim." Scott had a smile on his face now.
"Oh cool, I'm Lucy." She pointed to herself with her thumb. "Lucy Miller."
🄽🄰🄼🄴: 🄻🅄🄲🅈 🄼🄸🄻🄻🄴🅁
🅃🄷🄴 🄲🄾🄾🄻 🄱🄻🄾🄽🄳🄴 🄺🄸🄳
🄰🄶🄴: 15 🄰🄽🄳 🄰 🄷🄰🄻🄵
🅃🄷🄴 🄽🄾🄽-🄾🄲🄳 🄼🄸🄻🄻🄴🅁
"As in, the OCD Millers?" Scott blurted out without even thinking, which didn't make any difference since he never uses his brain whenever he responds to someone.
Lucy let out an awkward laugh as she scratched the back of her head. "So you know about that, huh?"
"Uhm..." Scott was not about to say that he was that hungover guy that accidentally broke into their house and puked all over their marble flooring. Although, she might know already. But it's impossible, he was 15 when that happened. She's not going to notice, right? Right?
"Yeah, my family has OCD, except me." She gave him a smile.
"Well that sucks." Scott responded. "I don't think I can handle having a family like that."
"Well it has its perks." She chuckled. "I'm kinda scared that if they decided to have another kid, this one would have OCD too." She whispered to him.
"That's rough, buddy."
"Eh, it is what it is." She looked down at her feet and bump them repeatedly against each other. "By the way, how long have you been here?"
"That's rough, buddy."
"You've already punched someone in the face on your first day being a transfer here and it's not even your first period." The principal, said in a monotone voice that Scott's so familiar in.
"Well, when you put it like that... it kinda sounds stupid." He scratched the back of his head.
"It is stupid." Well the least this principal can do is be nice about it. Then again, Scott hadn't seen a nice principal ever in his whole life. "Well I should've been expecting that since, you have been kicked out of so many schools. I mean, have you seen your record?" He looked at Scott's folder, which Scott had to wonder if that folder still says that he's 5'2, which let's be honest he's grown past that. (ℍ𝕖 𝕚𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝟝'𝟛.)
"'Burned a student's eyebrows off?!'" The principal exclaimed as he read his folder, which made Scott chuckled as he remembered what he did to that guy. His eyebrows didn't grow back for at least six months. "Who does that?"
"Well, sir, that school isn't exactly a Catholic school so..." Scott pointed out which only earned him a glare, and he stopped. Momentarily. "...and uh... he called my hair shaggy."
"What would you have done if this wasn't a Catholic school?" The principal was not amused at this point.
"I would've hooked his underwear up his head." Scott actually managed a proud smile, which only serve to irritate the principal some more.
"Yeah, I can see that happening." The principal sighed before rubbing his temples with his index, middle fingers and thumb. "Just go to your classroom, Scott."
"Oh right." Scott stood up and grabbed his bag, his lunch had been taken by the Three Stooges apparently, before stopping by the door and looking back at the principal with uncertainty. "Which one's my classroom again?"
"9-F." The man said almost immediately and with a higher tone of his voice than usual.
Scott has a feeling he'll be visiting that man until said man has a migraine.
Scott Pilgrim had arrived late, which was nothing new, but with a brief introduction and a few waves from Lucy he finally sat down at his desk, by the window, and an empty chair beside him. Which was weird to Scott, usually he was the late one to go to school. He can hear a few murmurs from a few students, probably cooking up some sort of rumor already, just because he's the new kid and he showed up with bruises. He slumped his head on his arms, which are crossed on his desk.
The teacher was currently telling them the schedule they were going to have every week they would be in school. Now the first subject on Monday is...
His first subject of the day would be math?!
Scott almost threw his desk out the window, planning to jump off from the third floor. Scott's survived higher than that. He thinks.
All of the sudden another person, entered this hell hole of a classroom, it was a girl with an indifferent look plastered on her face, she had maroon-ish hair, that was tied to a ponytail, she had freckles dotted across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. She was wearing the gray school jacket, and she had an ice pack planted directly on her head, damping her hair, just a little bit.
She looked around the classroom for a moment, then her eyes looked with Scott.
"Miss Pine. Where have you been?" The old teacher had her hands on her hips when she looked at the girl sternly.
To which the girl looked a bit irritated and scowled at the teacher. "In case you haven't noticed, I have an ice pack placed on my head, because some retard threw their shoe on me."
"Just go sit beside Mister Pilgrim, would you, Miss Pine?"
She's coming here. She's coming here.
She's coming here!
She slipped herself on her chair, she had her eyes planted on the board in front of the classroom. She didn't look like she knew that Scott was staring right at her. That is, until she spared him a side glance.
"The hell do you want?" She growled at him.
"Uhm... Did you really get hit with a shoe?" Scott whimpered.
"Did the Japanese attack Pearl Harbor?" She looked at him, with an unimpressed look.
Oh shit. Try and look smart, in front of the cute ginger girl! Now, did they actually?
I don't know! (ℍ𝕖 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕕𝕠𝕖𝕤𝕟'𝕥)
"Yes. Yes, I did." She dropped her ice pack on her desk.
"Oh, um..." Scott fiddled with his thumbs. "So, uh... what's your name?"
She spared him another side look before looking back at the board.
🄽🄰🄼🄴: 🄺🄸🄼 🄿🄸🄽🄴
🄶🄾🅃 🄷🄸🅃 🄱🅈 🅂🄲🄾🅃🅃'🅂 🅂🄷🄾🄴
🄲🄾🄾🄻 🄶🄸🄽🄶🄴🅁 🄶🄸🅁🄻
"Kim, huh? Nice name."
Kim almost looked at Scott with surprise, because it really was surprising to her. She rarely hears someone say that her name is nice, definitely never someone she just met. Not that she could care anyway.
"Whatever you say... uh..."
"Scott. Scott Pilgrim."