Chapter Text
Four months.
Just four more miserable months until Cub would be a legal adult with a high school diploma. He turned eighteen a while ago, so this final semester is all that stood between him and freedom. Four months and he could stop hopping foster homes, start working his shitty minimum wage job full time, rent his own place, and attend whatever university would take him furthest away from here.
Just a mere four months away.
Cub was certain every hour was going to crawl by. They already were–it had been half a day at this new school and Cub already wanted to go home. Not that home was truly home–he hadn’t been there that long–but he wanted to take a nap. New schools were always the worst. He could suck it up one last time though, because the next time he did this everyone would be coming into a new school, and it would be his decision to be there. No one else’s.
He just needed to keep his grades up, and Cub’s grades were damn good. His college applications had been sent, and there was a bit of money in his pocket from working retail on the weekends that he’d be able to make work.
Cub’s life was a refined science at that point, and he had the next couple of years planned to a T. Once his life could well and truly be his–with no stupid barriers like being legally a child in check, he would finally be content.
He just had a lot of days to get through before he reached that point. First and foremost, Cub needed a place to sit for lunch, and most of the cafeteria tables were already filled with students. This was familiar to him, but Cub felt a little bit out of his depth as he was still new here. He had yet to make friends, and was sort of thinking that it might be best to just forgo that idea entirely.
Four months wasn’t a lot of time to build a friendship, after all. He would hate to find someone tolerable enough to hang around with, just to leave them in the dust.
“Can I sit here?” he asked, approaching the only table with ample room. As there was just a single occupant, Cub had already begun putting his things down–asking had really just been a courtesy.
“No,” the occupant said.
Cub froze and looked at him. They were probably in the same year, although this kid was easily taller than he was. He had brown hair and was folded over, scribbling something he couldn’t make out. He didn’t even look up, but Cub could easily read the fuck off vibe he was putting off.
He sighed internally to himself. This is what he got stuck with–the weird kid that no one wanted to sit by. “There’s nowhere else to sit.” Cub didn’t want to have to squeeze himself between two random strangers–he just wanted to eat his sandwich and read his book in peace.
The kid finally looked up at him, giving him an annoyed glare with piercing eyes. Still, Cub sat, plopping his bag into the chair next to him. Two could play at this game–he unzipped his bag and pulled out his book and his sandwich, doing his best to ignore the other entirely.
They ate in complete and utter silence, and Cub was content to entertain himself, although he was a little pissed that this random kid didn’t seem to want anything to do with him. Cub was fine with that, just a little put off–he was the new guy, after all. People ought to at least try and be nice. He reminded himself he wasn’t here to make friends, though.
“You got a name, or anything?” Cub asked eventually, growing a little bored. Maybe he should have sat elsewhere. Sure, he’d be annoyed by the people around him, but at least he’d find entertainment in their conversations.
Cub received a blank look in reply, and the kid quickly returned to his drawing. Cub didn’t know what to make of him–maybe he didn’t speak much. That was fine enough with him. “I’m Cub,” he offered.
“Good for you,” he snarked. It was the longest sentence he had said, and he was already being rude. Cub was over it–here he was trying to be nice and he was getting walked all over instead.
What’s your name, is what he wanted to say. “Who shoved a stick up your ass?” is what he blurted out instead.
“Excuse me?”
“What’s your name?” Cub said quickly, trying to amend his mistake. After a moment of silence, he added, “Listen, man, it’s my first day here, and I didn’t have anywhere else to sit, alright. We don’t have to be friends, or anything, but–”
“But what?” the other cut him off. “Thought you’d come over here and rescue the lonely charity case without any friends about, huh? I don’t need your help.”
Cub opened his mouth. Closed it again. He had sort of thought of himself as the lonely charity case, but whatever. “No, uh…”
The other scoffed. “My name’s Scar, alright. Little piece of advice: go sit with someone else tomorrow. There’s a reason no one hangs around me.”
“Is it because you always act like an ass?” Cub didn’t know what the hell had come over him, but Scar was really getting under his skin. He was usually quite relaxed–it took a lot to rile him up, and Cub rarely got truly angry. Something about Scar’s tone… Cub didn’t like it one bit.
“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” Scar said, slamming his notebook shut, and shoving his things into his backpack. “I’m doing you a favor.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re a real loser, and I’ll get shunned if I talk to you. I don’t care–I’ve never been the most popular kid in school. Plus, graduation is around the corner. Nobody will care in a few months either.”
“You don’t want to hang out with me.” Scar bit out, yanking the zipper on his bag shut.
“You don’t know what I want.”
Scar didn’t reply, just avoided his gaze as he slipped his backpack on. It took him a moment to shimmy his arms through the straps since he hadn’t stood.
“Where are you going?”
“Class?”
“We’ve got almost ten minutes before–”
Scar stood, gripping the table for support, as he grabbed something from the chair beside him. It was a pair of forearm crutches. He adjusted them into place, supporting his weight on his arms.
“You got a problem?” Scar demanded.
“No,” Cub sputtered quickly. They had been hidden when he first sat down, he hadn’t noticed them at all. “I can walk up with you, if–”
“I don’t want your help,” Scar hissed. “I don’t need your help. Always the same with you people,” he muttered under his breath. He deftly took off through the sea of tables and chairs, and crossed the room, largely ignored by everyone else.
Cub grimaced, but kept his mouth shut, and noted his mistake. He didn’t know Scar’s situation, but if people regularly tried to help him do even the most basic of tasks when he didn’t need it, he would definitely get fed up too.
You don’t want to hang out with me, Scar had said.
Cub wondered if that was because he was unapproachable, or if it was because everyone in this forsaken building was just an ass to him. Even if they weren’t… it was never easy, being the odd one out, and it seemed Scar kept people at a distance. More likely they kept him at a distance. It sucked, but it seemed like Scar was doing a lot of that work himself too.
He would try to sit somewhere else tomorrow. But if there wasn’t room, Scar seemed content with ignoring him, and that suited Cub just fine.
===
Luck wasn’t on Cub’s side this miserable day, because after lunch he immediately got lost trying to figure out where he was going. He was provided a map, but it was hardly helpful because none of the classroom numbers were correct. The hallways being flooded with students didn’t help either, but Cub managed to slip into the right room seconds before he would have been told off for being late.
He had chemistry. This was something he normally would have deeply enjoyed, but when he stepped into the crowded lab room, there was only one empty seat. And just his luck, it was across from someone he recognized.
Scar glared at him as he sat down. Cub ignored him, pulling out a textbook, and trying to act like he knew what he was doing instead. It was his first day here, after all, but he caught on pretty quickly.
During the lesson, there was one important piece of information he learned that stuck out from the rest of the chemistry discussion–the person he was sat across from would be his lab partner for the rest of the year. Hooray. To make matters worse, they were doing a titration today, so they were actually going to have to work together.
“It’s as though you’ve been brought here to annoy me personally,” Scar muttered, grabbing a lab packet they were given to fill out. He paged through it with a bored look on his face.
“Well, who were you partnered with before this?” Cub asked.
Scar shrugged and gestured to the two girls on the other end of the table–they were pouring over the assignment booklet together. “They always got me a good grade.”
“What, and I can’t?”
Scar just shrugged again.
Cub sighed and started gathering the materials they would need for the experiment, following the instructions he had been given. He was lucky he had done this before–it wasn’t exactly the easiest of first day assignments, but that was what he got, coming to a new school in the middle of the year.
“Might as well make sure you don’t get lost again,” Scar said, grabbing the map Cub had tossed on the table. “We share a lab grade, so it wouldn’t be good if you keep being late.” He began crossing out room numbers and rewriting them, presumably with the right information.
“I wasn’t late,” Cub said. He was almost late–big difference. “And are you going to help? We share a grade, after all.”
“Oh, I’ll take notes,” Scar said reassuringly, patting the packet beside him.
“We don’t need to take notes, all the instructions are written down.”
Scar grinned to himself and shook his head. “All good science needs to be recorded.” He finished with Cub’s map and pushed it aside, grabbing the lab packet and flipping it open. “Begin by gathering required equipment,” he dictated while writing.
Cub glared at him and continued, resolving to do the work himself. They shared a grade, but it was still his ass on the line if he messed it up, and it was clear to him that Scar had no interest in helping him. That was fine enough with Cub–he knew he could do it right himself.
“We don’t want it to turn bright pink,” Scar said, watching what he was doing eagerly, now that Cub set up the chemicals in the proper beakers. “Because it says here that’s how you know you’ve messed up.”
“I know. I know how titration works.”
“I’m just saying, don’t go too far.”
“Do you trust me, or not?”
“No,” Scar said frankly.
“Yeah, well, I know what I’m doing.”
Cub did know what he was doing, and he was a proud member of the half of the class that managed not to mess up the experiment. He considered that a thrilling success for his first day, especially with a partner that refused to help. Scar insisted taking notes was a necessity, but Cub doubted he was actually documenting anything useful.
“I’ll write the lab report,” Scar said when they were done.
“Hell no,” Cub blurted out, too horrified by the prospect of Scar’s lackluster scientific knowledge to even register the fact he had offered to help with something. “You probably couldn’t even explain to me what I just did.”
“You put the thing in the thing,” Scar said with a wave. “Simple.”
“I’ll write it,” Cub hissed. “And I don’t even need your notes to do it.”
“Well, if you insist,” Scar said dramatically. “Then I suppose the burden can be yours.”
Cub knew that was exactly what Scar had been trying to get him to do. His play was to convince Cub he was useless enough that he shouldn’t be allowed near any sort of lab report, and then he wouldn’t have to put in any effort for a good grade. He glowered at Scar, who began merrily packing up his things.
Cub took a deep breath. Just a few more months, and he could leave everything–particularly Scar–in the dust.