This is my first fanfiction, I hope you enjoy and please give me any feedback you feel would be appropriate to help my writing.
I do not own Class of the Titans
24-36-10 was spun into the dial of a pad lock. Pull, pull, reef. Opal let out an exasperated sigh when the lock held fast, and looked down to the combo scribbled on a torn sticky note for the sixth time. She stared at it for a moment, brushing her tight blonde curls out of her face, tucking them behind her ear only to have them spring back a moment later. Tediously she entered the combination for her locker… again. Pull, pull, reef.
With a frustrated groan she tossed the paper down, turning on her heel to head back to the secretary's office and request some bolt cutters. She twirled smack first into the opened door of the neighboring locker. With an irritated grumble she rubbed her nose. So it was going to be one of those days. Before she began walking again she took one large step away from the lockers and out into the hallway, but something caught her arm. Rolling her eyes Opal glanced down, reaching with her opposite hand to untangle herself from that blasted locker door, but instead of finding her shirt snagged she found a hand.
"Are you okay?" that must have been the hand's owner. She looked up expecting to meet eyes, but instead found herself staring at a well toned chest. Ah, yes, the big one, he was one of those seven scholarship students, she had seen him and his friends around. He was on a wrestling scholarship, if she remembered correctly. Their group was exclusive, composed of a rather odd bundle of people to be found together. Opal had only ever passed them by in the hallways. There were some ridiculous rumors floating around about him and his friends but Opal never took any of them as fact.
She was sure he had never heard anything about her. She was quiet, always stayed by herself. There was no need for him to have ever had any experience with her, she knew he was in her grade, but they had never shared a class together. She felt that way about most of her peers, not just him and his group of scholarship students, all of the kids in her grade. She sat in the background and watched, learning most of their name while none returned the favour, and honestly she was completely content with that.
"Yes, I'm fine, thank you," she brushed him off.
"Is there something the matter?" he dropped his hand to point over at her locker.
"I just have the wrong combination," she brushed her bangs away again in a frustrated swipe. The first day of school was always so infuriating, why couldn't they just keep their old lockers, why did everything have to be switched up every single September?
"Let me try," he swung his door closed to step over and take the lock in his palm, "What's your combo?"
"24-36-10," she watched his thumb spin the dial around the face of the lock. Pull, pull, reef. Only he stripped the mechanism apart with the horrid screech of ripping metal. Opal didn't even try to keep the surprise from her face, glancing to this huge man for his reaction. Still looking down at the broken lock, a modest smile pulled on his lips.
"Oops," he laughed nervously, offering her the remains. Still in a complete state of shock she held her hand out for him to dump the shambles into. How was the secretary going to believe this?
"Thanks?" she mumbled turning to walk down the hall, her eyes on the contents of her hand rather than where she was going.
Alphabetical order, seriously, why did every English teacher insist on the arrangement? Opal tapped her foot at the front of the room with the mob of other students waiting for their seat. The teacher was revered among her peers as an incompetent pushover, very nearing his years of retirement, or maybe he already passed them. She didn't mind so much that Rice would be her teacher for her senior year. His lax marking would make applying to those universities easier. In that respect she could use all the help she could get.
"We'll skip that desk," Rice had said and then pointed to the one behind it, in the very far corner of the room as he called Opal's name. She took her seat, seemingly isolated from the rest of the class by its location and the empty desk in front. All well, she wasn't that talkative of a person anyways. Go to school, listen to the lectures while you scribble lyrics instead of notes and then head home, simple.
She stared out the window while she waited for the remainder of her classmates to be assigned seats. The warm breeze of a soon fleeting summer floated in through the screen, bringing with it the orchestra of rustling leaves and the chorus of singing cicadas. It wouldn't be long until the Pacific wafted in the rainy winters of the British Columbia coast. She hung onto the peaceful music as Rice began the tedious procedure of handing out textbooks. When he finally was able to begin a lecture he was interrupted not two minutes in.
"Sorry," was the muttered response from the herculean teen Opal had met for the first time face to face not even an hour ago. He handed over a late slip and then searched for an open desk, Rice pointing out the one he had skipped during assignment. He smiled a thank you and headed over, pulling his phone out the moment he sat to fire off a text. The blue device buzzed quietly in his pocket from the vibration and he laughed lightly when he flipped it open.
Opal studied the broad expanse of his back and the soft curls on top his head, trying to figure out what her opinion on him was. She always brushed away the outrageous whispers about him and his friends. That was because she had never really interacted with any of them, but what kind of person could rip open a padlock? It just wasn't possible, even with a build like his. With a huff she flipped open her notebook to begin writing, but upon looking up to the blackboard she found the entire left hand side blocked. Right, put the five foot nothing girl behind the six foot everything guy, yes, brilliant. She discarded her book and rested her chin in her palm as her mind slowly drifted to anywhere but the room she was in.
Herry had found there was always two groups one could land in on the first day back to school after summer break. The first group was the one Jay was in, excited to return and rejuvenated by the settling of a new routine. Herry did not belong in that group. No, no, he was exhausted from his four hours of sleep, late summer nights was a hard habit to kick. Upon returning to the brownstone he dragged his feet up the stairs and collapsed in his bed. This is where the majority of people landed, in the second group. Dreading the start of a new semester, the promise of impending due dates and nights full of frustrated studying.
"Herry!" his door swung open and a laptop was plopped down beside his head. Herry groaned and flipped the other way, the springs in the mattress creaking as he shifted. He had gone to bed before Odie the night prior, how was he not conked out in his own bed?
"Come on man, check out this new application I added to Spartan Heroes," the smaller man insisted.
"Later, I need some sleep," he burrowed his head under his pillow, hoping to block out more than the late afternoon sun.
"Ugh," Odie huffed and gathered his laptop, "fine." Herry let out a sigh of relief, his muscles dully aching in their moments rest after a tough workout with his mentor. He lay in the blissful state between consciousness and sleep, nestled in a cozy cocoon of pillows and blankets. The most relaxing part of his day yet. This is what had gotten him out of bed that morning in the first place, the promise he would return to it as soon as possible. As he rested he reflected on the day's events. The morning hadn't really started off that well. He had completely busted that girl's lock. He could still remember the shocked look she had given him, blue eyes wide, lips parted. Maybe he should tell Jay about that one, she defiantly had to be wondering about how he managed to break it, but then again that might only worry the boy more.
With a deep sigh he rolled to his back and tried to clear his mind to allow sleep to wash over him, but that girl's shocked expression jumped right back into his head. No, he wasn't going to tell Jay, he would just stress about it and what's done is done. Maybe he would take Odie up on that game, better than that blonde badgering his conscious.