"Alfred! Get up!" Matthew yelled to his sleeping brother. Today was their first day of junior year, and it was already 7:30. Matt was not going to be late because of his lazy ass brother. Al grumbled something in reply, turned back over, and was snoring again. Seriously? Okay, desperate times call for desperate measures.

There had to be a way to get the sleeping American up. Matt's eyes wandered to his hockey stick- no. Too brutal for a first attempt. Suddenly, he was struck with an idea, and smiled. He walked downstairs, and filled a large pot up with cold water. Walking slowly back upstairs, spilling water here and there, he opened Alfred's room. This had to wake him up. He crept slowly to the side of Alfred's bed, and began to tip the pot-

"Matthew Williams, I swear to god if you pour that water on me, I'm shoving your hockey stick up your Canadian ass." Damn. Caught in the act. Alfred didn't even open his eyes when he spoke to his brother. Typical. "Well then wake the fuck up and I won't have to resort to these drastic measures," Matt huffed, but it seems like Al was asleep again. Matthew swore he was narcoleptic. Well, he had to wake up Al somehow. He started tipping the pot again.

"No lube." God damn it. "Al, oh my god, it's 7:40. Get the fuck up." Alfred's blue eyes shot open. "Why the hell didn't you tell me how late it was?" Matthew shrugged. "Your alarm went off 20 minutes ago. I thought you knew." Al shook his head incredulously. "Fuck, I have to get ready. Yell for me at 7:50." Al jumped out of bed and jogged to the bathroom, and Matt heard the shower start. Did he really have to have a shower? Matt sighed and walked downstairs.

His dad, Arthur, had woken up and was making toast. Well, burning toast. Arthur wasn't the best cook. It was only a matter of time before Francis, his papa, would stumble sleepily into the kitchen and complain about the smell waking him up, and end up making breakfast himself. "Good morning, Matthew. Where is your brother?" Arthur asked. "Getting ready. I just managed to get him up about 5 minutes ago." Matt replied. Arthur let out an exasperated sigh. "I swear, that boy is never on time for anything. I wish he could be more like you sometimes." "Maybe we should have adopted two little Canadians instead of just one," Francis joked, walking into the kitchen.

"I still say we should have adopted a Brit." Arthur huffed, and Matthew remembered visiting an orphanage in Britain when he was young to find a new brother. Arthur really wanted a child the same nationality as him (so did Francis, who was French, but he ended up settling for a French-Canadian.) "Oh sure! Let's all talk about how we shouldn't have adopted Alfred!" Alfred complained melodramatically from the top of the stairs, bounding down them, his blonde hair dripping wet.

Matt took a moment and realized how similar he looked to his adopted brother, even though he wasn't blood related at all to him. They had the same shade of blonde hair, similar face and body structures, both wore glasses, and both had cowlicks (though Matt's tended to curl a lot more than Alfred's did.) Sure, Matt's hair was curlier, and he was slightly smaller, and his eyes were bluer, but the two were frighteningly similar. Like, kill-your-double similar.

But the similarities ended there. Their personalities were way off. While Matt was shy and generally reserved (when hockey wasn't involved), Alfred was loud and sociable. Matt used to be captain of his junior hockey team, and he played offense, and Alfred played defense on the football team. They were both smart, but Alfred excelled in math and science, while Matt was better in history and languages. Matt and Alfred were as different as day and night, and they had been since they were adopted.

Matt was adopted first. Francis and Arthur, who were married in 2004 in Quebec, immediately went to adopt a kid. Francis fell in love with Matthew, an adorable 6 year old boy. Arthur agreed, and they had him adopted before his 7th birthday. In 2006, after the couple had been looking for nearly a year in the United Kingdom for a kid they could adopt, they found Alfred in an orphanage in New York. He was 3 days older than Matthew (Al was born on the 4th of July,) and though Arthur complained through the entire process about how he would rather have a Brit, Alfred ended up being a total daddy's boy, and Arthur loved every second of it. Matthew and Alfred got along like blood brothers, and their little family was finally complete.

Al shook Matt out of his daydream, and told him it was 7:55, time to go to school. Matt hugged his fathers goodbye, and got on the bus, excited for his first day of school.

Until, of course, he got there, and remembered, he hated school. Alfred seemed to be having the same dilemma. "Ugh. Why do we have to come back here every year? At least we're almost seniors." He looked down to his schedule. "Hey Mattie, who's homeroom are you in?" "Oh, uh, Mr. Edelstein's. You?" Matt asked his brother, praying they were in the same one. Matthew didn't know how to socialize if he didn't have his brother there to help him out. "Damn it! They usually put us together but I guess they're going by my actual last name now. You'd think Dad would have changed it on my documents by now. I'm in Mr. Abels." Matthew felt himself pout a bit. Not only did he get separated from him, but his brother got Matt's favorite teacher. Mr. Abels was the cool history teacher from Holland. Matthew was stuck with the not cool, uptight music teacher from Austria.

Noticing Matt's frown, Alfred snuck a look at Matt's schedule. "Hey, but we have AP Lang together, and APUSH, you can help me out with that, and wow, you have AP Euro? Oh but look, we have AP Calculus together, I can help you-" Al tried to cheer his brother up, but Matt cut him off. "What the hell do you mean I'm in AP Calc?!" Matt looked down at his schedule and groaned. He had AP Calc second period. Damn his good guessing skills, making him score high on math placement tests!

"Hey bro, Calc is easy, I'll help you out." Al tried to comfort him, but Matthew was already on the verge of giving up for the year, and he hadn't even been to class yet. "I give up, Al." Matt complained. Al just laughed and clapped him on the back. "Don't give up, little bro!" Al smiled, and Matt gave him the same glare he always gave Alfred when he called him his little brother. Matt was three days younger than him, and they weren't even really related. "Come on, we only have homeroom once a week. I'm sure Edelstein won't bite. You aren't even his student anymore." Al tried one last time to cheer up Matt before the bell rang, but it didn't seem to work, and Matthew trudged off to his homeroom. He really wanted to go home.

Al managed to be wrong about Edelstein. He was even more uptight than he had been when Matthew had him last year for AP Music Theory. (It must have been because Matt got a 2 on the exam.)And of course, Matt didn't know any of the people in his homeroom. He looked around and saw some familiar faces; Raivis, Feliks, Toris, Heracles , and Mei were in there, but he was nothing more than acquaintances with them. Matt sighed and took a seat in the back, hoping that he would have at least one friend in his home room. Mathias walked in, and waved at Matt. Thank god, someone he actually knew! He had been friends with Mathias since middle school, and they first started hanging out solely because they both went by Matt, and Mathias thought that was awesome.

Mathias walked over to Matthew, and was going to sit down before Mr. Edelstein glared at him. "You're supposed to be in my wife's room, Mr. Kᴓhler." Edelstein said coldly, his voice accented heavily. Mathias cocked his head, and looked down at his schedule. "Oh, hey! It does say Mrs. Edelstein. Well damn, that sucks, I'll see you later Matt!" Mathias exclaimed as he walked away. Matt managed a, "Bye, Matt," and he was alone again. Matt sighed. This year was going to suck, he could tell already.

The bell rang for homeroom to start, and Matt sighed. Maybe this was a good thing, not having any friends in his class. It would force him to break out of his shell, and become more sociable. What a great silver lining! Matt smiled and decided that during lunch, maybe he'd sit with Raivis or Heracles. He had Music Theory with them last year, and they were pretty okay.

"You are staying in your homeroom today until after lunch. I have several important papers I need you to sign and turn in to me tomorrow. If you have any issues with your schedule, you may come speak to me and I will help you get it changed." Wait, so, Matt could drop Calculus? Hell yes. He was going to get up to talk to Mr. Edelstein, but then he remembered how cruel the man could be to people he thought were stupid. Dropping Calculus would make Matt look really stupid. Matt did not feel like getting made fun of by a pretentious teacher today, and decided that he'd just deal.

Mr. Edelstein passed a stack of papers to Matt. They were the usual school stuff; where he lived, his mother'sand father's names (which would always lead to Matt awkwardly asking what to write if you had two fathers, and getting laughed at by the whole class,) who to call in emergencies, contracts that made him promise not to shoot up the school or whatever. Matt had finished signing them, and was busy coming up with hockey plays in his head, when the door opened and a look of annoyance washed over Mr. Edelstein's face. He let out an irritated sigh.

Matthew looked up and saw that someone had walked in. He was tall, had pale skin, and he wore a beanie and glasses. Damn, he was pale. Did he ever leave the house? He must be more introverted than Matthew. He was skinny, too. "Class, this is Gilbert Beilschmidt. He just moved here from Germany, with his brother and grandfather. They just so happen to be my cousins." Mr. Edelstein told the class. Gilbert smirked, pointed at Edelstein, and clicked his tongue at him. Matt rolled his eyes. This dude's entire vibe just screamed douchebag. Matt was given evidence to support this when Gil went straight to Mr. Edelstein's seat and sat down, propping his feet on the teacher's desk. Edelstein glared at him. "You will have a seat like the rest of the students, Gilbert. You don't get special treatment because you're my cousin." "Oh come on, Specs! There aren't even any seats left!" Gilbert's voice was just as accented, if not more, than his cousin's.

Matthew had an empty seat beside him, but he didn't care to advertise this. Maybe Mr. Edelstein would forget he was here, like he had done numerous times, and just go drag a desk from his wife's room. Matt pulled out his phone and started to play with it, not watching the two Germans anymore, but kept listening to them. (It was hard not to.) "Don't be stupid, Gilbert. There's an empty seat in the back." Edelstein said, looking as if he was about to physically dump Gilbert out of his chair.

"Come on, Roddy, you know my eyes suck." Gilbert whined, and Matthew stifled a laugh. Roddy? That was almost worse than his actual name, Roderich. "Well luckily for you, you don't need to see the front of the room for homeroom. Now go sit down." Edelstein demanded. Gilbert grumbled but did as he was told. Shit, as funny as the whole 'Roddy' thing was, Matt didn't want to sit by Gil. He wanted to be alone.

Gilbert sat down at the table next to Matt. He was muttering something under his breath in what was probably German. Matthew, who was like some sort of savant with languages, didn't know much German, but could get the gist of it. Something about "That asshole knows I can't see my hand in front of my face, why did he put me way in the back?" Matt ignored the upset German beside him and kept playing his game. Maybe he could go unnoticed by Gilbert. People forgot about him all the time.

"Gilbert, take off the hat and glasses." Edelstein said, and Matthew heard an audible gasp from the German. "Nein! I mean, uh, no way. You know that I can't-" Gilbert started, but was cut off. "Yes you can. You never wore the hat and glasses in Germany, it just started when you came to America. You will take them off or I'll write you up." Edelstein warned. "That's complete bullshit, Roderich, you know-" Gilbert was cut off by Edelstein again. "Language, Gilbert. Perhaps I should tell your grandfather, as well?" Once again grumbling in German, Gilbert did as he was told, and pulled off his beanie and sunglasses.

And, woah. So that's why he didn't want to take them off. His hair was snow-white, and his eyes were blood red. He was an albino. So that accounted for his pale skin. And, oh no, he's hot. Despite the obvious discolorings, anyways.

Matthew tried not to stare, like the rest of the class was doing, and kept playing on his phone. He could hear the whole class whispering about Gilbert. Their high school was small, and Matt doubted some of these people even knew what an albino was. He snuck another look at Gilbert, and he could feel the embarrassment radiating off him. Oh, well. His phone was more important than secondhand embarrassment, and Matt went back to trying to beat his high score on Flappy Bird.

"Matthew, put your phone up." Matthew heard Mr. Edelstein call almost 15 minutes later. It made Matt jump, and he could feel Gilbert's red eyes on him after he was called out. Matt mumbled an, "I'm sorry," and put it up. "Seems like I'm not the only one getting Roddy's wrath today!" Gilbert exclaimed to Matt. Shit, shit, shit, he had to talk. Matthew was not a good talker, especially not to cute guys.

He had been in Quebec, in his orphanage. At least, that's what it seemed like from what his Papa told him. Francis would always say, the reason they decided to adopt Matthew was because of how, when he heard that Francis was French, he went up to the man and had a fluent (well, as fluent as a 6 year old could be,) conversation with him in French. And when he went home with the two, apparently he wouldn't ever be quiet. His gregariousness seemed to die down as he learned English better. But Matt still loved talking to his father in French. Maybe he ought to just move back to Quebec.

But, shit, he still hadn't said anything to Gilbert. He had to think of something. Something that would make a douche like him think he was cool- wait, why did he want Gilbert to think he was cool? Sure, he wanted friends, but was he this desperate?

"Y-yeah, eh." Shit. That was not cool. And what the hell? He had managed to make it an entire summer without stammering or saying eh (his nervous, Canadian tick.) God, Matt hated meeting new people. It was so stressful! He always worried if they would like him or not, even if it was people he shouldn't care either way about. Like this German, albino, douchebag. Who was still talking. Shit, what did he say?

"-that way since he left Germany when I was like, 10." Was all Matt caught from Gilbert's sentence. Sometimes he felt like he paid less attention than Al did. "I'm s-sorry, eh, what did you say?" Gilbert laughed. Was he laughing at him or with him? Damn it, Matt wished he could read people better. "I said Roddy wasn't always such a jerk-off. He used to be really nice to me and my brother, but he hasn't been that way since he left Germany when I was young. And what is up with you? You shouldn't stammer, I know I'm awesome, but I don't bite!" Gilbert laughed even harder. Damn, his laugh was kind of… what's the word? Oh, annoying.

"S-sorry. I don't meet new people well, I guess. It's kind of stressful for me, eh." Matthew wanted to hit himself. He wasn't consciously able to stop himself from saying 'eh.' It was a Canadian's burden to shoulder, but he really didn't want to deal with it right now. If he didn't stop soon, Gil would-

"And those 'eh's', man! What are you, Canadian?"

-Notice.

Fuck.

"Uh, yeah. I was born and raised there, my parents adopted me when I was 6 and brought me here." Matt managed to get the whole sentence out with not one 'eh.' Score one, Matthew. "Awesome! The Gods must have brought us two immigrants together to be awesome best friends! There is no other explanation!" Gil exclaimed. Matt just laughed nervously and nodded, making eye contact with him for the first time, and Matt noticed his eyes were moving all weird. He remembered from biology last year that albinos were suspect to weird-ass eye disorders. He smiled, trying to think of something to say and avoid staring at his eyes. Thank god, the bell for lunch rang.

What an asshole.

Matt's plan for lunch was to sit with either Raivis or Heracles. Raivis, though, had gone to sit in the library and Heracles was nowhere to be found. Probably playing with the stray cats behind the school again. He was hoping that maybe Mathias, or Alfred, or hell, even a teacher he liked was in this lunch, but, nope. Matt seemed to be alone. He took his lunch to an empty table and sighed. Oh well, at least he was used to alone. He had gotten nearly halfway through the lunch period, before he saw someone sit in front of him.

It was Gilbert. He had put his hat and glasses back on, obviously wanting to hide his condition. "Hey! So we're in the same lunch." "Obviously, we're in the same class," Matthew muttered, but Gilbert didn't hear him. He was too busy pulling his food out of a paper sack. "I would have sat by you from the start, but Roddy wanted to talk to me. You looked kind of lonely." Gilbert said, his mouth full of food. What the hell was he eating? Was that sour kraut? What the hell. It wasn't like Matt brought pancakes and poutine to school with him. (Okay, that was a lie, but it was one time.)

"So, Roddy said your name was Matthew, right?" Gil asked, still eating his stupid stereotype food. "Just Matt, eh." Shit, not again with the eh's. "Just Matt? That's boring. I'm going to call you Mattie, until I know you well enough to give you a proper nickname." Gil smiled. Matt tried not to look horrified. People only called him Mattie when they pitied him. People called him Mattie when they treated him like a child. Because Mattie is a child's name. He didn't call Alfred 'Alfie,' (though Arthur still did at times.) He wasn't going to call Gilbert 'Gilly.' So Gilbert shouldn't call Matthew 'Mattie.' "Don't give me that look, Mattie. Everyone gets a nickname from me. Hell, Roddy has two, and my brother has so many I've lost count. It means I like ya. If it makes you feel better, call me Gil."

Wait, Gilbert liked him? Had Matthew made a friend? Wait, Matt didn't want to be friends with this asshole. But, still, friends. Matt hadn't made a new friend on his own since Mathias in 6th grade. He felt himself smile- shit, he didn't want to smile. He didn't' want to be called Mattie. "That usually warms people up to the whole nickname thing. I wouldn't want someone calling me Gil unless I had an awesome nickname to give them too!"

Matthew's smile turned into a nervous laugh. What the hell do you say to that? Thankfully, he was saved by the bell again. He threw his food out and quickly made his way to his next class, which his schedule said was AP European History, with Mr. Abels. Hell. Yes. History was Matt's favorite subject, and Mr. Abels was the best teacher ever. He had him freshman year for civics, and last year for world history, and the two were close enough that Matt could get away with calling him by his first name, Tim. The two were hella tight.

Tim's eyes lit up when Matt walked into his room. "Hell yeah, my favorite student is back for more!" He exclaimed, his voice as accented as Edelstein's. Matt smiled. "Of course, you know I had to take this class." Tim smiled back. "Just letting you know, this class is a hell of a lot harder than the last two you took with me." "I can take it." Matt said. Why the hell couldn't he talk to people his age like this?

Matt took his seat in the front of the class, by the window, where he had always sat in Tim's room. Tim had given him the syllabus for the class, and Matt leafed through it. The class seemed pretty easy, honestly. Start at the Renaissance and end at the Cold War? 600 years weren't shit to Matthew Williams, history expert. He didn't know what the hell DBQs were, but he was an FRQ master. And with Tim as his teacher, he could do no wrong.

Matt was beginning to completely forget about Gilbert. Maybe, if Matt was lucky, he wouldn't have any more classes with the albino.

But was Matt ever lucky? Fuck no.

Just as he had that thought, a familiar person, in a beanie and sunglasses walked in. Fucking why? And he sat in the desk next to Matthew. His eyes must really be bad, or Matt must really be invisible, because Gilbert didn't notice Matt at all until Tim came over to talk to him. Gil laughed. "Haha, I told ya Mattie! God brought us immigrants together! Sorry I didn't see you, us albinos have really bad eyesight. I can't believe we have this class together, I didn't know you liked history!" Was Gil a history buff too? That would be amazing, Matthew would finally have a friend who liked history- wait, Matt didn't want to be his friend. Gil was loud, and obnoxious, and kinda egotistical. Wait. Did Matt just call him Gil in his inner monologue? Shit.

Well, at least people would think he had friends besides Alfred and Tim.