Back to School (Avaline)

Avaline hated high school. She saw little value in what the standardized education system had arbitrarily decided she needed to enter into the working society, and the excessive amount of time they thought she required to learn it. It was useless, tedious, and an absurd waste of time. If it wasn't for federal law and colleges' strange favoritism towards people who held those slips of paper, she would ignore the education system like gas station hot dogs; something that existed and others partook in, but something best left to be knowledged in existence by the corner of her eye. If she hadn't been so busy over the summer with the dragon attack and taking advantage of a brief glance of a life without school, she would've sped her way to graduation through online courses. As she walked towards the school building, she was feeling mild disdain for her past self who could've saved her from today's and the following's activities had she put a little more mind to it.

Avaline had two ups on the equally sour students who trudged to their first classes around her. First, while most students had backpacks turned tetris games and even extra bags for what still didn't fit, her small red backpack was more of a facade than anything else. It was empty save for a mechanical pencil and a folder currently filled only with a few sheets of loose leaf paper. It was all she needed for her morning classes; notebooks were unneeded weight in face of the simpler single pages, and any required books were unnecessary. The three-ring binder one of her teachers insisted she bring would be prepared and brought only when it was truly necessary. Indeed, the clothes she was wearing - a knitted sweater over a bright yellow shirt her butler insisted she wear over the more mellow white one she had picked out, a layered skirt that reached down to her ankles, and a long patterned scarf she had wrapped to her chin - were heavier than her bag.

Her second advantage was, unlike the students who could only dream of skipping school, she had both plans and means of doing so. She had a doctor who was more than happy to write her off as ill and certainly unable to attend, and she had full intention of taking full advantage of this. She'd done so last year; her average rate of attendance was two to four days a month. Namely, only when she absolutely had to because of a test or to keep the school attendants content. She'd turned in homework in bulk - to straight A's, pleasing the teachers - and always performed well on tests, and thus as it had worked as a freshmen it would work as a sophomore. The one downside was she had become known as the girl who was always sick and who, when she did attend, did so with large bags under her eyes and an air of gloom and darkness about her, and that had not leant itself to good impressions with her fellow students, let alone friends. But, as she had little need for either and a death glare that could silence the worst of bullies, she considered it a worthwhile trade.

Avaline expected to recognize no one in her first period class and expected for that not to change throughout the year. However, in searching the classroom for an empty seat, her eye was drawn to the mostly vacant corner and the sole occupant within. Avaline stopped dead in the doorway, cutting off the person behind her who had not been expecting her sudden hault. He was here?

That made sense, she assumed. He'd guessed him to have been of high school age when she first seen his face, and therefore it was very likely he attended the high school in the city. The chances of them, out of the hundreds of students in the school, ending up in the same class was non-zero. And so here they were. It certainly made her choice of seating easier.

For the first time since she'd resigned herself to going to sleep for the sake of being at all functional for class the next day late last night, Avaline felt a bit of happiness to be here. With a little less drag in her step, she made her way back to the back of the classroom and to the seat beside her friend. She dropped first her bag on the floor with an unsatisfying puft and then dropped into her seat to about equal effect.

She cast at him one look and a sort of half smile that came out as more of a twitch in the lip before turning to look at the front of the classroom.

"What should I refer to you as here?" She asked in greeting.

So his name was Tristan? Avaline would think something to the effect that it fit him, but she was a poor judge of things like that. It wasn’t unfitting, at least. She would commit it to memory.

His studder did not go unnoticed. Had she taken him by surprise? His face said he didn’t recognize her, which made sense; he may have given her his face, but she hadn’t shown him hers. It was something she had begun to consider, but neither opportunity nor need had presented itself. She trusted him enough that she didn’t feel it necessary to distance herself from him here in case he did figure it out. Outright telling him in a public place like this, however, was risky and of no great gain. Therefore she would not.

“Avaline.” She stated simply. “Tristan, I will note your name.” She set her gaze to the front of the classroom and her hands in her lap. She presently had little else to say, and thus did not. She was content to sit in silence.

Avaline shrugged at his second apology in two sentences. “I’m used to it.” She said. Ends of the group’s conversation reached her - it wasn’t too disagreeable, comparatively. The school year had not yet yielded more than thin straws to tug at. They didn’t quiet as the teacher walked in and began with role, and neither did she. “Besides, high school gossip is ultimately inconsequential. Their rude words mean nothing to anyone who matters enough to cause any real effect, and they lack the power to do so themselves.” She folded her arms on the table and leaned forward over them.

“And yes, we have met before.” She regarded him from the corner of her eye before letting her gaze drift slowly back to the front of the classroom. The teacher’s voice was already turning out to be the sort without inflection or any means of keeping one’s attention. She hoped he was going to give a textbook or have notes online, lest she was going to have to spend time looking up and printing off related information from the internet. She wondered if she could bother Tristan for his notes.

Avaline looked at Tristan with a tilted head. It seemed he’d figured it out, but that was fast. Was she really that obvious? Perhaps she needed to work on a front. Presently, however, she had no mind to attempt such a thing.

“Poor.” She said bluntly. “I got approximately four hours of sleep last night because I wanted to finish as much work as possible last night before I had to worry about… all of this sapping my time and energy, and because I’ve determined it likely I’ll be able to sleep through my math, english, and history classes.” The teacher reached the ‘O’s and she paused to raise her hand. “I see no intrinsic value to this class. I was placed in it because I require the credit, and if I truly required any information about ‘raising a child’ or whatever ridiculous topic is going to be covered, I have faster and more accurate means of acquiring what I need. Further, my counselor is giving me difficulties in getting out of my gym class because I was too distracted by other, more important issues and was unable to get for him a doctor’s note until yesterday. Now he appears to be intent on keeping me in the class out of spite or some equally petty reason. I’ve tried discussing matters with my gym teacher, but she has not responded to my calls.” She huffed.

She found it odd that Tristan was blushing again - perhaps he was prone to blushing easily. Something biological, or maybe it was a natural reaction to even mild emotions? She couldn’t see much other explanation as they were just casually chatting before class. She thought to ask.

“You appear to be blushing. You do that a lot. Is there any particular reason?”

Avaline nodded. It was frustrating. The whole of school was frustrating, and she very much had better things to do. At least, she realized, she had someone to talk to this time. If not for Tristan, she would’ve found an empty seat in an empty corner to sit and fume in without interacting with anyone or responding to those who attempted with her. Talking about it didn’t solve the many problems plaguing today, but it did make her feel a little better.

The course syllabus was being passed back. As Tristan seemed distracted, Avaline leaned forward to take the remaining two pages from the girl who, by her good graces, had decided to give them kindly rather than throw them or use them to tease the girl with a short arm length. This was made up for by a giggle shared with her friends at the two of their expense.

Ignoring them, she passed one of the two sheets to Tristain. In doing so, however, she caught him mutter something strange.

Avaline blinked and furrowed her brow. She looked down at her desk, up at the teacher, and then gave Tristan a very confused look. “I don’t understand. How can my appearance make you blush? I find certain animals to be cute, but seeing one will not make me blush. Is it perhaps, to you, embarrassing? And do you mean to say that all of your blushing in our previous interactions are because I appear to you to be ‘cute’?”

Avaline found herself again blinking, and her mouth wordlessly opening and closing. She had… considered that to be a possibility, given the nature of humans and of blushing. But him? And her? She had deemed it to be very unlikely, and thus had sought other possible explanations. After Anonymous’s mention of it, she had further dismissed the possibility as manipulation on the super’s part. But he’d just confirmed it to be the case. She wanted to think that he was just kidding, maybe to himself or at an attempt at humor in a bad day, but his current expression - or lack of expression, as she couldn’t see his face - made it clear that he was entirely serious. He was serious.

Speechless silence hung in the air for several seconds. Then, Avaline stood, letting her chair screech backwards, grabbed Tristan by the wrist, and pulled him with her towards the room’s back door. The teacher stopped speaking abruptly and gave a single objecting “Hey!” but she paid him no mind. Nor did she give a moment’s thought to the whispers and mutterings that immediately rose up through the room. She neither offered an explanation or looked at him until they were outside of the classroom and the door was closed behind them.

Once she was sure the hallway was empty, she turned to face him. Her expression was black - at least, she attempted to make it so. Surprise was evident in her raised brow, and her grip, which she soon released once in the hallway, was a little tighter than usual.

“You have developed romantic interest in me.” She repeated, saying each word slowly and carefully. “Why?”

Avaline had felt her face growing steadily warmer ever since the classroom door had shut behind them. By now, her face was bright red. Her head had drifted downward and her hands were clenched together at her stomach. She didn’t want to look Tristan in the eye for fear it would only make her more flushed.

She cleared her throat and took a sudden and keen interest in a poster across the hall. “This is an… odd predicament.” She said, almost hiccupping the last word. “There’s no need to apologize.” She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, unable to keep the red out of her own cheeks, and gave him a twiched smile. “That’s a strange thing to do, knowing what I do of you. Where is your usual confidence?” It was the best she had for an unspoken apology of her own.

She sighed and her face dropped with her gaze. “Ge- ah, Tristan, I want you to be aware that you are one of my closest friends. I greatly enjoy your presence and company. I trust you, and I do not say that lightly.” She was tugging on her fingers. “That is why I did not worry about allowing you to connect my face to my name.”

And, she couldn’t say the feeling wasn’t at least somewhat mutual. He had said he found her personality agreeable, and she could easily say the same of him. He was inoffensive; humble, even. She’d been drawn to the type of person he was ever since that first time they’d worked together after the dragon fight. This was twice now that he had called her ‘cool’, and she, in turn, greatly respected his reliability. Both in combat and out. She felt significantly more comfortable around him, and not just because he had saved her from harm more than once in battle.

“I am… unsure about what to do. I’m unsure what you want to do.” Her words were becoming steadily more hurried. “I have never navigated something like this before. I didn’t think anyone would feel that way about me, least of all someone like you who has remained so kind after all the trouble I’ve brought upon you, and, I…” Her voice dropped off completely. How did she really feel about him? She had never asked herself that - never felt the need - and now, pressed, the answer was confusing. She looked up at him with an expression akin to panic and found herself choking on her words. “The problem is I like you a lot.”