Chapter Text
Before I get into the fic, I wanna explain some of the tags. For the Smut tag, I'm not 100% I'll be doing it, but I'd like opinions on it, or make it separate from the fic, give me your thoughts.
Freaked out teenagers.
Now for traits:
Griffin: Shy/introverted, has tremors(in his hands), artistic (and AUTistis), malnourished, poor, accelerated student-(15 5'3)
Billy: Extroverted, Journalist, Soccer player, Photographer, popular, RICH, high achiever-(16 5'10)
Bruce: Extroverted, Baseball player, Popular, RICH, Smart-(17 6'0)
Finney: Ambivert, Baseball player, still gets bullied, Smart (mainly in Science and Math)-(17 5'7)
Vance: Ambivert, Boxer/wrestler, aggressive, Music writer-(17 6'3)
Robin: Extroverted, Boxer, nonchalant in a way, Loyal-(16 5'10)
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RING
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RING
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RI-
The alarm read, “5:00 am”
Shuffling fills the silence void, followed by a small groan. There is a tug on the pull chain of a lamp, and the room is instantly filled with light. Another groan escapes the boy's lips.
There's a soft knock on the door followed by a question, “Griffin, are you up?”
The boy stretches and speaks, “Hmm, yeah, I’m up are you getting ready for work?” the blond asks. “Indeed, I am. Hurry and get in the shower.” The woman chuckles before opening the door to let the hallway light in. She stares at him briefly, and the boy squirms under her eyes, “Mom, stop staring.” He groggily says. “You look like a mess, your hair is sticking up in different directions, how can I not stare?” She laughs, then turns away from the room.
Footsteps can be heard as she walks down the stairs. “I'm gonna leave. Remember to lock the door before you go to school, Griffin.” She yells up. Before the blond can answer, the door is shut.
Griffin Stagg, a calm, intelligent boy, has to suffer his last two years of high school alone; he's a grade above his age range (15-16 in a class of 16-17).
~Let's see how he gets ready for the day~
Griffin sits in bed for a few minutes before deciding to get up and pick out an outfit for school. It hasn’t even been a month into the school year, and he has yet to make a simple friend. He chooses a loose brown crewneck sweater paired with baggy jeans (wow, he has style) .
He heads out of his room and into the bathroom. He turns the water on as he starts to brush his teeth. He finished and now hops into the shower, cool water pours down his back, causing him to shiver. Due to his mother's low income, he can’t use hot water.
He finished washing, so he headed back to his room. He puts his clothes on before going over to his desk, littered with cheap curly hair products, which probably damages his hair.
It is now around 6 am, and he heads out of his room with his school bag draped over his shoulder. He goes down the stairs to the living room, where there are frame after frame of pictures of him and his mother. He decides to sit on the sofa and watch television to kill some time.
It is now 6:20 am, he turns off the TV and heads out the door, and locks it. He goes over to the side of the house to get his bike before riding his way to school. As he approaches the school, he can see a few other people there. He's 30 minutes early, so he finds it odd that people are there other than himself. He slows down not to be noticeable ( That shit did not work ). His old ass bike makes this terrible, loud, obnoxious squeak that could probably be heard miles down ( exaggeration ofc ). Not one, but all heads turn to him; he gets a good look at them before fully turning his head down and speed walking to the bike shed ( had to search that shit up ). He knew all those people, Robin Arelle-something, Vincent Hopper, Bruce Yamada, and Finnieus or something.
He keeps his head low as he goes over to the front doors. Usually, they’d let him in early, but due to the people being here, he’s unable to get that treatment. He anxiously waits for the doors to be open, scrolling on his phone and looking at the time. Why’s time going by so slowly? It wasn’t like this in the morning. He thinks to himself, it's been at least 5 minutes since he got there.
Heavy footsteps begin to approach the group of teens; someone is running. Griffin decides not to look away from his phone so he doesn’t have to exchange glances.
“You’re a little late,” Bruce teased, getting a remark from the other. “Shut up, Bruce, my dog was tearing up a pillow, little shit can’t calm down for a day.” He huffed out.
Griffin knew the voice too well, Billy Showalter. He shares four out of seven classes with him and some of his friends. He doesn’t hate or like Billy; it’s just that he finds him an academic rival, the same as Bruce.
Their rowdiness calms down after some time, but Griffin can’t help but have a feeling that they’ve glanced at him like a gazillion times. He doesn’t like eavesdropping, but he is fucking terrified. Why are they glancing at him so many times? Is there something on my face? Is it my hair, my clothes, what could they possibly be glancing at me for?
He goes through all the possibilities as to why this group of boys keeps staring at him. He was snapped out of his thoughts when he went crashing down to the ground. This is why we need bike paths, so morons like the guy on top of me don't crash into people.
“Ow…” the blond groaned, he could feel wetness underneath his palms. “Jesus, watch where you’re going retard.” The boy on top of him spat, before standing up, brushing his pants, and going over to the bike shed. Griffin was utterly stunned by what the other boy just called him. Not only did he call him a slur, but he didn’t even apologize and put the blame on HIM.
He was embarrassed. He was minding his own business, then suddenly, he was on the ground. People started to pile in on the school grounds, most of them just staring at him.
He slowly stood up, kept his eyes focused on the ground, and moved closer to the front entrance. I am going to kill myself. The blond thought to himself, he didn’t know the other guy, which is good, he doesn’t have to worry about him.
“Are you alright?” a girl his age asked, while tapping his shoulder several times. “I’m ok?” The blond spoke, more like questioned if he was actually ok or not. He studied her face for a second, then remembered who she was, she was Finnegans sister.
Griffin zoned out and didn't realize that the girl was still trying to talk to him, so he missed the entire thing she said to him. “Sorry, what?” he asks, before the school bell went off. He took one last glance at her before hurrying inside.
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He was able to make it inside the school without being pushed or shoved through the door (fucking hate it when people push me). He takes out his id card to scan it, he still hasn’t memorized his lunch/id number. The Picture of him is terrible, like so fucking bad hes embarrassed to even have the card out. His hair is frizzy, the haircut he had was absolute dog sit, why the hell did his hairdresser fucke him up so bad.
After he scanned his id he decided that he’d go to his locker then head to the nurses office, hopefully he’d be able to get to class on time or he’d probably have a mental breakdown.
He heads to his locker and puts his code through, his tremors making it a bit harder to do, and he ends up getting blood on the lock. He grabs out his textbooks and puts them in his bag. Before he could shut his locker door the girl reappears, scaring the shit out of him.
“Did I scare you?” she jokes, giggling a little. Griffin stares at her with wide eyes, not exactly knowing what to say because she literally made him jump. “Anyways, what I was saying outside, we’re in the same art class, I always see your artwork in the glass cases, they're like really good, and I was wondering if we could sit together in that class.” She rambled, Griffin still wide-eyed at her. It took him a second to comprehend what the girl just said. “Sure, I guess…” He spoke low volume. As she started to slowly walk away, awkwardness filling the air around him, he spoke up one more time, “Uh.. what's your name?” She stared at him, before smiling and answering, “The name's Gwen, and you’re Griffin.” She chirped before fully walking off this time.
After he composed himself, he started to make his way to the nurse's office, bumping into a few people on the way, earring remarks, even though it’s their fault for being in the middle of the hallway.
He officially made it to the nurse's office, with 10 minutes to spare to get to class, so he has to hurry. Three of the four nurses were chatting; he didn’t know how to get their attention without interrupting them. “What can I do for yah sweety?” A nurse with frizzy ginger hair asked him. “Uhh.. I fell outside and cut up my palms…” he spoke slightly above a whisper. “Whatcha say?” the nurse asked, “I cUT up my palms.” He cringed as his voice slightly cracked. “Oh, let me take a look, sit on down in that chair,” she spoke with warmth.
He sat down and waited, the nurse leaving to get bandages or something. I hate this, I’m gonna be late for first period. He thinks to himself.
“Let me take a look at your hands,” she advised as soon as she entered the room. He showed her his hands, his hands were tremoring, which earned an eyebrow raise from the nurse. “I have tremors.” He spoke softly, which earned a hum from the nurse.
~3 minutes later~
“Alright, you’re all free to go, heres a pass for class.” she spoke kindly, while handing him a pass. “Thank you.” he says before making his way out the cramped office.
He starts speed walking to class, already 4 minutes late, some students are bickering in the halls, skipping he assumes. He heads up the stairs and turns left, his classroom being right at the turn. He braces himself before he opens the door. Mrs. Cappelettie was a bitch, almost every single student talked shit about her. He once witnessed Vladimir Hopper cuss her out, screaming, “Stupid fucking cunt. You deserve to die.” He’s relieved Vladimir got switched out of his class—the guy scares the shit out of him.
He opens the door, and most eyes dart to him. “Hmmm, and why are you late… Griffin..?” She asks, having to skim over her seating chart to know who he was. “I was at the nurses office… I have a pass.” He doesn’t look at her, not even once, his eyes are darting from the students to the floor. “Well, hand it over and go sit down.” He side eyes her and makes his way to his desk.
The rest of his classes go by in a blur, before reality hits him and hes now in art class, and is gonna sit next to… Grace… Giana… He gives up on remembering her name and finds his seat, right next to the window.