"Don't judge me by my appearance; you'll be getting whiplash."

Walking into the hallways after the bell rang was easily the scariest thing Tyler had done since he awoke in the hospital a month ago. He had all of his required textbooks and a personalized schedule that covered all of his catch-up classes in his hands when he stepped out of the principal's office. It was only at that moment that he realised how many students attended Arcadia Oaks High.

"Bloody cabbage heads," he spits as he's practically shoved into another locker. "Prats, the lot of 'em."

He bites back a growl of annoyance, shooting a harsh glare at the student who dared touch him. They scamper off instantly.

"Just need to find the library," Tyler grumbles to himself, looking down at the slip of paper in his hand. "If I can figure out where I am..."

Of course, when he actually needs the student population, they're all gone, vanished from the halls without a trace. He's left on his own, entirely and utterly alone.

His soul grows cold, reminded of a similar event that sends it into shivers of guilt and sadness. It confuses him, but hurts more than anything, nearly making him grasp his chest. Perhaps he was abandoned before his amnesia; he prays that's all it is.

He glances around the corner, finding yet another empty hallway where he had been hoping there would be people. A ball of dust rolls across the floor to emphasize.

"Dreya, have mercy," he prays, crossing his fingers. 

Long story short: she didn't.

Tyler raps his knuckles on the classroom door, sighing at his own inability to find anything. He'd given up his search about five minutes in and decided that it would be better to actually ask someone instead of wandering aimlessly.

"Come in," a calm, rich voice announces, and the sound of students typing stops.

Hesitantly, he opens the door and cautiously meets the eyes of the teacher awaiting him. He quite purposefully avoids looking at the other students, for he can already hear their whispering and gossips.

"Do you have a reason for interrupting my class, or are you just stopping by?"

He shakes his head. "No, sir. I just need directions to the library, sir."

The teacher perks, unfolding his arms and placing his fountain pen in his breast pocket. "You must be Tyler Reynolds, then. Our new student."

"Yes, sir," the boy nods, feeling slightly better that he's been recognised through other means, rather than the whole accident ordeal.

"I'm Mr. Strickler," he smiles a little. "I suggest that you continue down the corridor until you reach the end. Then turn left. It should be the second door on your right."

Tyler sighs in relief and thanks Mr. Strickler, giving a half salute in thanks before turning around. Just as he's about to step out the door, he's halted by the sound of the teacher's voice.

"Before you go, Tyler," he takes his fountain pen back out to make a small note. "What can you tell me about the legend of The Knights of Camelot?"

The bronze-haired boy smirks slightly, turning his head to get a glimpse of the class. "It was a bloody big table, sir."

And he strolls back out, leaving Strickler with a class of giggling grade tens.

《《》》

The thump of five textbooks landing on a table top makes the two boys jump, and Toby chokes on his meatloaf. It's only the realisation that Tyler's sat down beside them that makes them calm down, though Jim tries to help Toby dislodge the chunk of food in his throat.

"Can math solve its own problems?" he asks quite seriously. 

Jim's the first to react, albeit a little slow on the processing of the question. "I don't think so."

He exhales loudly, rubbing his eyes with a hand. Florescent lights aren't doing him any good and words are blurring together because of it.

Just as he's about to sit down at the lunch table, he's yanked back by the handle of his knapsack. Not a yelp leaves him, only a strained growl of surprise.

"Well, well, well," a new voice crows, the owner looking equally as stuck up as he sounds. "We've got ourselves a freshman, fresh off the block."

Tyler gives him a deadpan expression, his irritation multiplied by his hours in the library. "Technically, I'm a senior. Now ge' off me!"

When the hand doesn't release his bag, he reaches back and yanks on it, bringing the opposing boy's arm over his head. He pulls him forward and off balance, positioning his other arm at his elbow. This is a risky place for the bully, one wrong move might result in a fractured or broken arm.

"Don't test me," he says lowly, dropping his victim. 

"Leave him alone, Steve," Toby jumps to Tyler's defense, though not exactly feeling particularly courageous.

"Or what, Domzalski?" 'Steve', the blond-haired bully jibes, taunting the chubbier boy. "What are you gonna do, huh?"

The newcomer places a hand on Toby's shoulder, telling him without words to stand down and sit down. This isn't his fight anyways; this is a fight between the two elders.

"He's not going to do anything," Tyler's voice is warm, directed to his two friends. "But I suggest ye back off. It's only going to end in tears."

The dark tone in his words suggests that those tears won't be his. And the way his eyes are gleaming only solidifies that promise.

"Pick on someone yer own size," the taller boy looms over the other. "At least scrap with someone with an ego as big as yers."

Silence, in the entire courtyard. Some students ready their phones in preparation for a fight. Others walk away from the tense situation, not wanting to get caught up in the conflict. Several just watch from the sidelines, making bets on who will win.

The resolve in Steve's eyes crumbles as he meets the blazing orbs of the student he chose to provoke. His fighting spirit trembles under the intensity of it, and he has to break eye contact to keep himself from chickening out completely. For a split second, his softer self is visible, but he locks it back up immediately, ignoring the lessened glare of the newcomer.

"Walk away, mate," Tyler urges, unfurling his fists. "I don't want a fight on me first day."

To everyone's surprise, that's what happens. Steve turns around and walks out of the courtyard, not a single comeback on his lips. Only the amber-eyed boy can only hope to see why he leaves with such little protest.

As he sits down at the table, the boy ignores the gaping stares of his friends, instead opting to start eating his lunch. "By the Triple Goddess, Jim! This is amazing!"

"What the heck just happened?" Toby exclaims, unable to hold it in any longer. 

Tyler blinks, his cheeks stuffed with meatloaf. "Wot?"



If any of you are wondering, Tyler does have a slight Scottish accent. And as you saw here, he can be very intense.

I hope you enjoyed!