LPfiction

Category Linkin Park

Valley Christian High School by liberating.labia

One.

Title: Valley Christian High School

Author: .bennizzle.jizzle.

Pairing: Chester/Rob

Rating: R

Genre: Love and Romance mixed with a little Drama and Angst

Status: Chaptered, unfinished, better than before.

Warnings: Slash.

Disclaimer: I own this fic. This fic owns you. Therefore, vicariously, I own you.

Note: I've rewritten the first chapter at the loving advice of my sweet sweet Jules, so enjoy.

Description: Ear piercing. Lip piercing. Eyebrow piercing. Wild hair. Wild (and not to mention tight) clothes. Bright colors, particularly the rainbows. He didn’t belong. But that didn’t stop him from getting what he wanted; nothing did.










VALLEY CHRISTIAN HIGH SCHOOL.


I stared up at the large white letters that I would say a hasty goodbye to in only 158 days, hopefully never to see them again. January 3rd. Winter break was over; back to the monotonous routine of school life.


I heard my name called from a few people as soon as I entered the front hall. I nodded and smiled, greeting each of them politely.


"Did you finish the Spanish packet?" A warm grin greeted me on my left and I returned it. Its owner, adorned with a new pair of shoes that were no doubt a Christmas present, joined me on the trek down the hallway.


"But of course. And how was the first ever 'Shinoda New Year/family reunion extravaganza... vacation... something'?"


“Hm, you’ll have to help me out with that later. I got lost somewhere on the third page.” My best friend rolled his eyes. "Well technically, it was The First Ever Gates New Year/Family Reunion Vacation Extravaganza; my mom’s side of the family. It was… interesting? Family fights, fake smiles, Jap-erican food (which, by the way, only my father and I enjoyed)… all that good stuff. AND, I actually had a conversation with dear old cousin Brad. We even have a few things in common.”


“Sounds better than mine… wait, what? You and Mr. Tough Guy, getting along?” I gave an exaggerated gasp; it was a strange turn of events.


He laughed. “Yes. Shocking, I know. Imagine The Rebel and me becoming friends. Some of his music is actually kinda cool, although a lot of it is a bit much for me.”


We turned and entered the classroom at the end of the hall on the right, going to our respective seats before the bell rang. “Welcome, class. Hope your Christmas Vacation was full of worship, family and rest. And I also hope that you’re ready to get back to work. For the time of resting has ended, and the time of working must now resume,” Ms. Diggs greeted us, adjusting her small round glasses and shuffling through some papers.


I wished it was Saturday.


Halfway through the class, the door clicked open and footsteps sounded, causing an uproar of whispers to break out in the room. “Oh, my God! Tell me he’s not in this class now,” one girl said not as quietly as she should have.


He was average height, slightly thinner than average, and pale. His skin tight black t-shirt put his modestly toned upper body on display and the red Dickies slacks that were only slightly looser matched his bright red hair and jacket as well as the boots that peeked out from the bottom of said pants. There were rings in both his ears, one in his right eyebrow, and one in his lower lip. They all had to go.


But why should I care? Back to my book.


“I heard he’s retarded.”


“He must be! Look at those clothes! And that hair? Come on!”


“I don’t think he’s retarded; just stupid.”


“Idiot.”


“Sinner.”


The teacher stared at him, an annoyed expression crossing her features. “Well? Is there a reason you’re interrupting my students’ learning?”


I heard a “yes” in response, followed by footsteps making their way to the front of the classroom, their owner coming into my direct line of vision.


“Why?” The teacher questioned after looking at the schedule change that had been handed to her.


“The other guys didn’t want me.”


“I wonder why,” she muttered dryly. “Are you not aware that we have a dress code?”


I glanced back up just in time to see him fake a look of surprise.


“What?!” He asked. “Is that why every single student is dressed exactly alike? Whoa. I never would have thought of that.”


She was not amused, and neither were the students, if their scoffs and facial expressions were anything to go by.


Fighting temptation to laugh aloud, I returned my attention to my book once more and vaguely heard him ask whether she was going to give him a seat or have him stand up front for the next twenty minutes.


“What are you smiling about?” I heard from beside me a while later. I glanced over to find our newest student staring intently at his notebook while writing. Brown eyes flew up to meet mine, waiting for a response. He cut me off by adding, “And don’t tell me it’s about the invention of the toaster.” He nodded at the book of poems the class was reading as an assignment.


The smile I hadn’t realized was there dwindled a little. “Just thinking.”


He was back to concentrating on his writing. “Well I had figured that much. But what about? I wanna smile.”


I hesitated, though unsure as to why. “Not sure how much this will make you smile, but it was drumming.”


His lips curved upward. “That’s nice.”




That was it. No sparks flying, no playful flirting, nothing. But that was the day we met.




+~+




Mike was waiting for me outside the class afterwards. “Were you actually talking to him?”


I shrugged. That hardly counted as a conversation.


“Wow. Seems as though you and I are becoming freak magnets.”


I shook my head, laughing at the joke that was really more of a frightening observation than anything else.




+~+



Johnny, Jose, Joycie, me and Donna. Across from Jen, Mike, Andrea, Darren, Karen. Two empty seats to the left and then everyone’s favorite new student, now dressed in what was assumably a loaner uniform. He must have put up quite a fight to keep that ring in the center of his lower lip, though how long that would last, no one could tell.


“What’s up with that guy?” Johnny asked.


“There are more than enough public schools around here; why this one?” Karen asked, distaste emphasizing the word ‘public’.


“Maybe his parents forced him?” Andrea shrugged.


“He has parents?” Jen cracked.


“I’m not sure. He’d probably be an alright guy if he weren’t so…” Joycie trailed off, searching for the right word.


“Weird?” Jen suggested.


“Stupid?” Jose guessed.


“Idiotic?”


“Freakish?”


“Retarded?”


“Yea, that must be it.”


Joycie slapped his arm, saying, “You don’t know that!”


“Then what were you going to say?” Jen challenged, eyes narrowing.


Everyone’s eyes fell on Joycie. “…Rebellious,” she mumbled, concentrating on her food.


Jen just rolled her eyes in her eyes in response. Insert awkward silence here. Cue the playing with food, clearing of throats and avoiding each other’s eyes.


Donna turned to the person seated diagonal from her. “Wanna join us?”


Looks of shock and horror all around.


Brown eyes examined her and then me, ignoring everyone else. “Actually, I was just leaving. Perhaps another time.” A friendly half-smile was tossed our way as he made for the exit to the cafeteria.


Mike’s eyes met with mine. I had no idea what he was thinking, and somehow I felt that I didn’t want to.



+~+



Mmm, PreCalculus.


Find the variance and standard deviation of 14, 9,7,4,8,12.


Hm. 14 plus 9 plus 7 plus 4 plus 8 plus 12 is 54. 54 divided by 6 is 9. 14 minus 9 is 5. 5 squared is 25. 9 minus 9 is 0. 0 squared is 0. 7 minus 9 is -2. -2 squared is 4. 4 minus 9 is -5. -5 squared is 25. 8 minus 9 is -1. -1 squared is --


“Robert.”


Concentration broken, I looked up at Ms. Gonzalez.


“Ahead as usual. If anyone needs help, please see Robert or myself,” she told the class before walking away to help a short Korean girl whose knee-length plaid skirt and white button-down blouse were just a size to big for her.


I glanced around, and, catching no one’s eye, went back to my work. -- 1. 12 minus 9 is 3. 3 squared is 9. 25 plus 0 plus 4 plus 25 plus 1 plus 9 is 64. 64 divided by 4 is 16. The variance is 16. The standard deviation is 4.


Movement was sensed nearby. Hoping that it wouldn’t be who I knew it was, I looked up again. A more than friendly smile glared at me from the previously unoccupied desk across from me. “Hello,” I greeted politely.


“Hi.”


“Need help?” I asked, already knowing that’s not what she wanted.


“Nah,” she smiled, eyeing me like a piece of candy.


“Okay.” I looked back down, trying to look busy while she began to chatter away.


“Ya know, this is all pretty easy. I get it. It’s actually kinda boring, you know?” She received silence as I pretended to concentrate on the practice problems. She quit the small talk and veered towards her intended subject. “So… have you heard about the dance? I’ve heard it’s gonna be awesome. The theme’s gonna be like a Hawaiian thing. I’m not sure if I’ll go.” Lies. “Are you going?”


“No.”


“Why not?” She leaned forward on the desk.


“It’s not my thing.”


“Not your thing? How is that possible? Everyone loves dances.”


“Not everyone, apparently.”


She blinked. “I know! Is it because you don’t have a date? I mean, I wasn’t really planning on going but I’ll go with you…”


Absolutely not. “Actually, I really don’t want to go. But thanks for the offer.”


She began to pout. “You wouldn’t turn down a lady, would you?”


What does it look like? “Well-”


A notebook fell onto the desk beside me, its owner dropping into the seat along with it. “Sorry to interrupt,” he apologized to Betsy, and then turned back to me, “but I need help.”


Thankful for the distraction, I threw her a sort of helpless glance along with a shrug that pretty much charmed the scowl from her features. She left quietly, but not before giving my unknowing savior a stony glare. When I turned back to him, however, he was already working on the next problem.


I am by no means slow. I leaned towards him in order to make it seem like I was in fact helping him.


“Hi,” he greeted me.


“You didn’t need help.”


“No.” Eye contact. There was a chill. I suddenly felt naked. “But you did.”


He was more perceptive than I had first assumed. I nodded. “Uhm, thanks.” Staring contest, anyone?


I looked back down. Number 8. 27, 42, 83, 51, 22. 27 plus 43, no, 42. 27 plus 42 plus 83 plus 51 plus… plus… 22, is 225. 225 times 5 is 1125. Wait, what? 225 divided by 5 is 45. 27 minus 45 is… is… for heaven’s sake! Calmly setting my pencil down, I took a deep breath.


“I’m Chester.”


Blinking, I eyed him questioningly. But he paid no mind. “…I know.” He sighed and only then did I realize how rude that had sounded. “Forgive me. I’m Robert.”


“I know,” he threw back coldly with an eyebrow raised. I had deserved that. He put out his hand and I shook it. “Nice to finally meet you.”


My eyebrows drew together. Hadn’t we met that morning? “…The pleasure’s all mine…”


His eyebrows raised a little and his lips curled up, dark cinnamon eyes twinkling. There was something behind that smile. Something that told me I should have been afraid. I wasn’t.


“I see they’ve got you in uniform now,” I observed once he let my hand go. “Are they really letting you keep that in?” I pointed to the ring.


“Yea… I’m not sure how long though. I had to put up a hell of a fight for it.”


I winced at his language, shaking my head slowly.


He noticed and apologized. “I think that will be the hardest thing to get used to.” He fiddled with the hoop using his teeth, then slowly brought a hand up to the hole in his eyebrow where another ring had been that morning. “That is, other than the no piercing thing. By the way, is this uniform supposed to be so itchy?”


I smiled a little. “No, That’s just the way the school loans are.”


“Gentle men, are we done?” Ms. Gonzalez approached us.


I looked back down at my paper and resumed working. “No, ma’am.”


She paused and I was glad I couldn’t see her expression. “Well, get to work.”



+

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