I'm a small asexual child. I can't write people making out.

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You've been my 11:11 wish for so long.

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Charlie and Matteusz were insufferable.

Well, not really, Newt enjoys seeing them gazing each other while the other one isn't looking. They are practically dating-officially and not, all in the same time - but they still act like high school boys crushing on one another. He finds it sweet but unnecessary. They could have an open relationship after all the school already knew that Charlie was gay and being seen with Matteusz was bound to start rumors so they could just come out first, but for some reason, they were both against it.

On the exact opposite side of the scale were Brendon and Ryan Ross. Ryan was very invested on Brendon and had no problem with showing it. Brendon had - a big one actually-and perhaps the most alarming thing was that no one seemed to care. Newt couldn't help wondering if this was due to his popularity. Was this the way the school worked? Newt and Charlie weren't straight and got bullied for it but when someone like Ryan was not interested solid in women, no one dared to question it.

If something, this made Newt feel out of place and time. Maybe if he was born in a different era or place, he would have been happier. The second best thing would be for him and Thomas, who was only slightly in love with after their past few dates, to attend the same school. However, WCKD Academy was a tad too expensive for Newt's pocket and Thomas, being the son of the Headmistress, was not keen on changing schools.

Although, he would be lying if he said he didn't expect this sudden turn of events. That had always been his life; wrong place, right time or vice versa. 

"Lizard."

"Huh?"

"Bell."Skye repeated skeptically"Sure, if you want, you could probably spend the break in Spanish class but I wouldn't recommend it."

"I'm sorry, I believe I was lost in my own world."

"It's fine. We all do that quite a lot."

Newt laughed warmingly at her and stood up, grabbing his books for the next period. They were almost outside the classroom when Mr. Schuester's cough caught their attention. "Newton."

"Shit."Skye cursed under her breathe. If Newt wasn't that near the teacher's desk, he would have the same reaction."My legs are still sore from Sunday."

"It's fine. We'll catch up in a little bit, yes?"

"Sure. We'll be at our normal table."

Newt nodded and turned to his teacher. He immediately began thinking of the reason Mr. Schuester wanted to see him. He tried to think of any assignments he had failed to deliver or of any that were not as satisfying but failed. He had done his best and teachers rarely had a problem with him. Excluding miss Quill who had a problem with every student from the least sharp tool in the shed to the brightest of minds.

"Yes, sir?"

"Were you here last Sunday?"

"Yes," Newt replied and quickly swallowed "did I do something? Am I in trouble or something?"

"No actually," he turned to his briefcase and took out a black notebook with Newt's name on the cover written in calligraphy. Newt would recognize these letters everywhere, they belonged to his sister who after taking this internet course on calligraphy had insisted she wrote everything her family needed. It was mainly for show off but who was Newt to judge his favorite and only sister? This specific notebook was the only thing he didn't have to bring from his home but did anyway because he liked it. At first, he used it for Math homework but it seemed unfair to use such a pretty notebook (at least to his eyes) for such a dull subject. Now it was mainly used for Newt's own entertainment and drawings.

Drawings.

Oh no.

"It was probably a bit unprofessional on my part but I read some of it. In the beginning, I just went through some pages to make sure you didn't have an important homework you would need to deliver but then some things caught my eye."

"Unprofessional is an understatement."

Mr. Schue just stared him for a solid minute. He coughed, clearing his throat, and spoke up again. "You write a lot."

He does. It's not really something he can stop whenever he wants. Usually, he would write about a bad day and rainy clouds, but after Thomas had very clumsily entered his life, the empty pages had been filled with hearts and romantic poems. Mr. Schuester must have seen that and found it weird-disgusting even-it wouldn't be the first time he had fought with a teacher over such stuff.

"My assignments give it away."

"No, I mean you truly write." Mr. Schue corrected "You create art."

There was something that Newt didn't like about where this conversation was going. Maybe it was the way that his teacher held his notebook like some precious book or the way his eyes shined in a very crazy way. Newt remembered Skye talking about how obsessed Mr. Schue was with art, especially singing and acting since he had a little failure in the area. Well, not little precise. He never really got far enough to be able to fail.

"Thank you, sir. I think."

"No, Newt, I thank you." he replied cheerfully"And I have a proposal for you."

In the end, that was Newt's life; always in the wrong place, the right time or vice versa.

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Dan is an idiot and a walking love song.

It pains him, both emotionally and physically. He is presented with many problems and not so many solutions. For starters, he may have relapsed. Actually, not may, he is certain he has relapsed and he knows that he would much rather be found in a ditch than telling Skye. Or anyone for that matter. He doesn't remember how it happened but yesterday he somehow managed to empty an entire bottle of their parents' good wine. This was the first red flag. He, however, knows he's gone again because he misses it.

He misses it so much that he wishes his teachers for the day are hit by a truck and he gets sent home early for today before Adrian or Skye arrive. He doesn't even have to drink alcohol, he just wants to smell it. See it even. He needs it and it pains him.

Secondly, the stress of missing alcohol made him smoke more which led to his cigarette packet ending a bit too soon. Now he was penniless for both more cigars and beer. It really is a bad day for him and he can't even complain about it. He really can't. He imagines many scenarios in which he comes clean and they all have one thing in common; Adrian and Skye being not mad but disappointed. Maybe a bit mad too but mostly disappointed. 

He's already a burden and he refuses to cause his siblings more suffering.

His third drug problem is not really a drug nor a problem. It's just a blue-eyed idiot who could get a sunburn in winter and on England. He was never sure what awkward silent types found in bubbly colorful people who were awfully optimistic, but since he was now living this bad tv show cliche, he assumed he would find the reason why. That didn't happen.

He wasn't stupid. He knew, despite not admitting, that Phil Lester was more than an acquaintance and a very different type of friend. It was a thought that had dawned on him when they had held hands one day after leaving the lab room. Ironically, this wasn't what made the voice inside his head scream 'yeah homo'. Dan was never the macho guy type who believed that things and behaviors have genders. He would paint his nails, hang out with the girls of the group and from time to time hold Brendon's hand because the second one was clumsiness personalized. 

He had held hands with a guy before and never really thought much of it because this was hand holding, not some kind of declaration of eternal love after steamy sex. It was just two limbs of two different idiots intermingling. Yet, Philip Michael Lester managed once more to ruin Dan's life by making it awkward.

How he did that, Dan wasn't sure. What he was sure of, though, was that when their hands touched Dan thought about it. A lot. He worried about it and felt a knot in his chest. This wasn't normal and for once, he was glad Skye wasn't around to witness him getting flustered. Naturally, like the mature almost adult he was, Dan had decided against discussing the whole subject with Phil. He would just avoid him for the rest of his life.

A task quite simple.

Now if he could also stop thinking about him, that would be great.

"So if Newt's going to help Mr. Schue with the play, he will be often gone from home." Brendon concluded"Charlie boy, this is your chance to bring your boyfriend over and get nasty."

Quinn made a gagging sound and pushed her salad away. "Can we please be decent during lunch? I would like to eat for a change."

"I'm doing you a favor, dude. Who eats salad for lunch?" Quinn didn't answer. Instead, she took out her bottle of water and drank half of it.

"So what do you guys think? Care to help me out?" Newt asked.

"Don't look at me. Schuester has already blackmailed me into taking part in the play."

"What is even going to be about?" Skye added to which Newt just shrugged. "Tell you what, find a nice plot and I'm sure Brendon, Quinn and I will also join."

"Why me?" Both Brendon and Quinn asked.

"Why not me?" Charlie added offended.

"Brendon is a known attention whore. Quinn is a hidden attention whore and you're literally a ball of stress and anxiety."

"Fair point."

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It takes a lot of convincing to get rid of Charlie. Perhaps it would be easier if Newt wasn't kicking him out of his own place, but it wasn't his fault that the situation was so ideal. Quill was out and if Charlie was also out, Newt would finally have the peace and quiet he needed in order to write a play like his teacher had asked him. An impossible task, really, but it was going to give him extra credit and it sounded like a fun idea.

"Wasn't the point of kicking out your cousin to write the play?"

"But I have no inspiration."

"Is that why you called me over?" Thomas asked with a sly smirk.

"Do not flatter yourself, Tommy. I just wanted you to be my critic." Newt explained and continued writing and erasing words in his notebook. They probably didn't make any sense and suddenly, this idea and plan seemed a lot more stressful. Thomas went over to Newt's bed where the blonde was sitting and placed his head on his boyfriend's shoulder.

"Will you bribe me?"

"I will smack you."

"Kinky."

Newt couldn't hold his laughter. He turned his head slightly to face Thomas. "You're a real arsehole."

"Would it help my case if I said that I'm your asshole?"

"Maybe," Thomas smirked and kissed him. The two of them parted for a second until Newt kissed him again forcefully. Soon, a soft sound similar to a moan was heard which made Thomas smile. The sound was repeated and Thomas could feel his self-esteem hitting the ceiling. "Thomas!"

"I'm an excellent kisser, I know."

"No! I had an amazing idea for the play!" Newt jumped to the side and grabbed another pen. "Babe, you're a genius."

"I'm totally gonna record you saying that and will use it for future blackmailing." -Newt snorted, but still, Thomas looked at him with adoration as the boy began writing.

"I can feel you staring." Newt mumbled, his eyes glued to his writing "What are you thinking?"

"I just sometimes wonder how come you're a real person and not some illusion."

"Very romantic, but we aren't doing anything until I'm done."

"I knew you'd say that." Thomas laughed. "Hey, Newt?"

"Yes?"

Thomas grabbed his phone and flashed him the screen. "It's 11:11, make a wish."

"Can I wish for this project to magically finish itself?"

"I expected eternal happiness or love or something."

"Well, the end of this project would make me really happy." Newt explained, "Plus, I already have love."

"You big sap!"