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(Neato!)
Booorrrreeeeeeeeedddoooooooommmm
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Tirrell tapped the end of his pencil on his cheek, feeling quite bored with himself. He only wanted the classes to begin already. Normally he wouldn't feel so eager to leave like most, but first days back were always rough. He hummed to himself along to the music playing through his headphones. Hopefully he'd get a chance to socialize with the other students as they would enter in the class. As of the current moment, it was just himself in addition to four others. It made sense seeing as most didn't care about being early.
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Met had sniffed around the school for his next class. His Trig class went very well, with a welcoming gesture from a very nice teacher. They had even pointed Met to his next class, which was AP Economics. He poked his head into the classroom once he found it and walked in, shoving his schedule back into his bag. The teacher glanced up from their computer, did a double take and beamed at him.
“Take a seat, Met!”
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Noticing that class was about to begin, Tirrell slid his headphones off, letting them rest on his collar bones. Sighing, he noticed a tall lankier boy enter the room. It was odd that he didn't recognise him. Maybe a transfer student? Grinning, he watched as said boy took a seat nearby. Grinning, he tapped him on the shoulder, offering a bright smile.
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Met started delicately and he turned in his chair to blink at the boy behind him. He looked laid back and happy to see him, a stranger.
“Er… hello,” Met said softly, offering a slight smile in return.
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"Hi," Tirrell greeted back simply. "I don't believe I've seen you around before. Did you transfer here?" he asked with a small tilt of his head. That was one of his easy downfalls. He was quite the curious person and sometimes didn't realized when he asked something too personal.
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Met shrugged a little. “I’m not sure. I don’t come from another school.” He didn’t quite understand how vauge this answer was. He seemed to be hoping that Tirrell would just understand.
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"Ah, homeschool then?" the shorter boy asked, not waiting for a response. "Don't worry about things, you get pretty used to the class rotation fairly soon," Tirrell added. Nearly forgetting himself, said boy stuck out his hand to the stranger. "Met, right? I'm Tirrell, happy to meet you."
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(meanwhile Andre, a proud dad, if he saw this he would be smiling so wide)
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Met opened his mouth to tell him that he was an orphan, but blinked as he was interrupted.
“O-oh, yes it’s Met.” He gently took the other’s hand in his big, skinny one.
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"What classes do you have after this? I'm curious if we have any others together," Tirrell said, his voice sounding a bit giddy. It wasn't often he had the chance of talking to someone new. Strangers just made things new and exciting. The smaller boy now drummed his fingers on his desk, seeming a bit impatient. It wasn't his fault he came off that way, he just wanted to be friendly.
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“Oh,” Met said softly pulling his schedule out of his pocket. The smaller boy’s tip tapping on the desk was making him feel worried and unsafe for some odd reason.
“I have AP World Studies and after that I have… third lunch.”
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At Met's response, he stopped tapping his fingers and gave a warm grin. "Ah, I had that second period. Teacher's pretty fun, so as long as you stay interested, you'll live. I do have the same lunch though," Tirrell responded cheerily.
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Met grinned faintly once the tapping stopped and he visibly relaxed. “That’s nice. Do you have any friends to eat with during that lunch period?”
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Met grinned faintly once the tapping stopped and he visibly relaxed. “That’s nice. Do you have any friends to eat with during that lunch period?”
Tirrell nodded. "You're welcome to a seat with us," the shorter boy offered. He seemed a bit confused with how stiff Met had been, but decided not to ask. It might have been that he was coming off as too impatient with the tapping.
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Met blinked a couple times, confused. How had he gotten this far with someone already?
“I’d love to sit with you and your friends. It would be nice.” Hopefully…
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"Sounds great," Tirrell responded simply, offering another smile. He sighed as the second bell rung signaling that class had begun. He would hopefully get the chance to talk with Met a bit more later. The lanky boy had something about him that intrigued him.
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Met grinned lightly back in return before scooting back around in his chair. He fidgeted around in the tint desk, struggling to fit his long legs under it at first, but he finally managed. He just hoped he wouldn’t need anything from his bag, which was at his side.
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(Skip?)
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(Yis.)
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The bell for lunch finally rang, signaling that it was time for the third lunch period. Tirrell grinned, as his stomach rumbled softly. Swinging his bag back onto his shoulders he walked out of his French class. Inside the cafeteria, he placed his things beside an empty chair at an empty table. The shorter boy had decided to be productive and make his lunch that morning. He grinned as he pulled out his food.
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Met had nosed around the school for a bit, searching for the cafeteria. By the time he arrived the lunch lines were widdled down to a few people. He nervously joined one and grabbed a chicken sandwich with fries, and a small bag of chips and a salad. Why not? He asked himself. He pressed in his “student code” which he had received with his schedule and locker information, and went to go sit. He thankfully spotted his new friend fast, rather than wandering around like an idiot and made a beeline for him, trying not to get too shaky over how many stares he was attracting.
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Tirrell gave a large wave as he noticed Met scurry towards the table. It had been funny enough that just a moment ago he had mentioned the tall boy to the others sitting with him.
"Speak of the devil," he said with a grin. The smile shrank slightly as he quickly explained that it was an expression. Just in case.
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Met grinned lightly at the others. His elbows had started to shake, leading his tray to quiver in his white-knuckled hands. He shyly said hello and ducked his head, sitting down quickly the moment a chair was opened. He didn’t seem to hear the expression Tirrell used.
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Tirrell felt a bit of relief that Met hadn't been offended. He would hate to do that to a guy on his first day at a public school. Upon closer inspection, he noticed the taller male's slight shaking. The brunet frowned lightly at this. "Are you alright?" he asked, worry in his tone.
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Met started picking at his salad and looked up when Tirrell talked to him. He nodded and rubbed his own hand nervously.
“Mhm. Fine.”
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(.p.)
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"You're shaking," Tirrell said, quiet enough that the other students didn't hear, but loud enough that Met could understand him. His lips were still pulled into a concerned half smile.
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“It’s normal,” Met put off with a tiny smile. He tightened his hands tighter into fists. He never thought it was that noticeable.
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The shorter male wanted nothing more than to protest that it didn't seem normal by sitting behind the other for an hour. But he didn't. Tirrell didn't want to start an argument. It seemed no one else had noticed the trembling anyways.
"Sorry. I couldn't help but worry is all," he said, attempting to let the issue slide. If Met chose not to talk about it, then they wouldn't talk about it.