B18.

There was the stupid room. B18.

Finally. This school was a maze. They had to give him a map. That said loads. If not for that useful tool, Hiccup would have probably made his way to Atlanta by now.

Watching all those "How to Make Friends" videos on YouTube didn't really cheer him up, he wasn't shy, in fact he was quite sassy, most people said. But all the advice videos had one piece of advice in common.

When you're in a new school, join a club.

Hiccup had immediately gone on the school website and downloaded the club list. He'd gone through them with his dad, who told him it didn't matter which he joined, as long as it wasn't Animal Care, which was what he wanted to join. And that was Stoick Haddock in a nutshell.

So he settled on journalism.

The high school newspaper.

The Armada, it was called. Why it was name after a fleet of warships he didn't know, and quite frankly, he didn't want to know.

The club met every Tuesday after school in Room B18.

Which he had to go to Guidance and ask to point him in the right direction because it was like a secret room or something. It wasn't even on the stupid map.

Huh. The room was right in front of his math class, Room 109.

That was ridiculous. 109 and B18 had nothing in common.

Well, they both had the number one…but that wasn't how rooms were supposed to be organized, dammit. These people were crazy.

He opened the door slowly, and was surprised to see a small-ish room, with lots of computers, messy desks, and a few people talking loudly about stuff he didn't understand.

Hiccup walked over to the man who looked like a teacher and said, "Uh, hi."

The man turned around and beamed at him. "Can I help you?"

He had a heavy Scottish accent. The boy was reminded strongly of his friend back home, Merida.

"Yeah. I'm, uh, new, and I joined the newspaper like, on, Thursday, I think. So I just wanted to know -"

"We have a new recruit!"

Two people who were sitting near the man gasped, and walked up to him with identical grins on their faces.

And that wasn't the only thing that was identical. Obviously, these two were twins.

"He's young. And healthy. Look at all that false hope in his eyes! Oh, Gobber, I think he's perfect!"

"He's not bad looking either," quipped the other, who, he admittedly had not realized was a girl. "I might stop working just to look at his eyes."

"You don't work anyway," the man grumbled. He turned to Hiccup. "This here is Ruffnut and Tuffnut. Believe me, those nicknames were earned. Oh, and I'm Mr. Belch, but everyone calls me by my firs' name, Gobber."

Hiccup nodded wordlessly, wishing that the girl, Ruffnut, would stop staring at him. "So, what should I do?"

Gobber shrugged. "Beats me, lad. I don't run the newspaper, I'm just here ta make sure these dunderheads don' blow the place up."

"Let's introduce him to Snotlout and Fishface!" Tuffnut said enthusiastically and grabbed the Haddock's arm before dragging him off to where two boys were sitting and seemed to be arguing.

"Snotlout, no one cares about you. We are not putting your picture in the middle of an article about unhealthy drinking water!"

The boy seemed agitated. He was chubby, and was glaring at the other boy, whose picture, Hiccup saw, was indeed on the computer.

"Guys, guys!"

The boy with the picture looked at them. "What do you want? And who's the fishbone?"

Oh, now that was uncalled for.

"I'm Henry," he said, before those crazy twins could say anything. "I'm new."

The chubby boy smiled. "I'm Fishlegs. One of the editors. And this is Snotlout."

"I can introduce myself! I'm Snotlout. So, what are you waiting for? Get to work!"

"I'm not sure what to do," said Hiccup, annoyed. "No one's told me -"

He was interrupted by the door opening and Gobber shouting, "Look at that! We're saved!"

Hiccup turned around to look at the latecomer.

And he was pretty sure his heart stopped.

A girl had just walked in, a girl with gorgeous blonde hair and blue eyes that looked like they were sparkling. She had a bag hung over her shoulder, the type that he'd seen his dad carry to work, they were used for laptops. She had a blue short-sleeved shirt, with a short skeleton skirt over brown leggings. Her hair was done in a tight braid, but there were bamgs that covered the side of her face. Everything seemed to go in slow motion as she gracefully pushed her hair out of her face and set her bag down.

She was beautiful.

And she was coming their way. Oh gods.

Be cool, Hiccup. Be cool.

"Hi!" He squeaked out.

Oh, very cool.

She raised an eyebrow. "I don't recognize you."

Tuffnut grinned. "He's new meat, Astrid."

Astrid. Gods, even her name was beautiful. His stomach clenched at the thought of her saying his name.

Great. She'd just come in, taken out her laptop, walked up to them, and spoken four words, and he was already smitten.

He really had to sort out his life.

The girl crossed her arms. "Why did you join the newspaper?"

"Well," he began, "It's - it sounded…fun."

Oh gods.

"Let me tell you something," Astrid said, "It can be fun. But only if you're actually dedicated to it." She gestured to the group. "Fishlegs loves the newspaper. He stays late every day to make sure there are no mistake, whether they be spelling, grammar, or factual mistakes."

She pressed on. "Snotlout may act like an idiot half the time - "Hey!" - but he gets the work done. You know why? Because he actually likes the newspaper. He's a fast typer. He works. He earns his keep.

"As for these two morons -"

"Who do you think you're calling moron, my flaxen-haired friend?"

"You. You and Tuff are both morons. You know it, I know it, I'm pretty sure that the new kid's figured it out too." She looked at him for confirmation.

The boy nodded, a little too enthusiastically, he thought, but realized that that was rude, and quickly added, "I - I mean, well, you know, from what I've seen."

She snorted. "You've probably seen enough. Anyway, these guys are the actual reporters, so that's why you won't see them do any actual work in here."

"And you?"

She looked at him quizzically. 'What?"

"You," Hiccup clarified, "What do you do?"

"A little bit of everything, to be honest, but mostly typing like Snotlout."

So she was hardworking too.

Gods.

He had to stop.

It was creepy.

"So, new kid, what's your name?"

Fishlegs answered for him. "It's Henry."

Astrid looked up, brows furrowed. "Huh. You don't look like a Henry, to be honest."

The boy turned cherry red. "It's not my real - well, it is my real name, but no one actually calls me that - I mean, my dad calls me that, and most teachers too, but -"

She was laughing. "You're definitely a rambler."

"You're…not as, as, I don't know, hardcore, as I expected you to be."

"Oh, I am definitely hardcore, Henry, if that's even your real name," she said, then added mockingly, "Don't try to get a thing past me."

"I won't, believe you me," he said with just as much sarcasm, a grin forming on his lips.

"You know, new kid, you seem pretty cool. You should hang out with us after school, down at Arby's. We go there a lot."

Score!

"Tsk tsk," he responded without thinking, "You don't even know my name, and already you're asking me to hang out."

She punched him.

"Ow! Violent much?"

"You don't even know," Snotlout muttered. He had gotten back to work. So had the others, if unplugging wires could be counted, in Ruffnut and Tuffnut's cases.

"Hey, you get smart with me, you get punched. Simple as that, really."

He rubbed his shoulder. "Alright, then. What should I do?"

"Whatever you're good at," she shrugged, "But hey, at least tell me your name first."

This was why making friends was not a walk in the park. To a girl like her, his name was ridiculous.

"My name's Hiccup. Great name, I know."

"Hiccup?"

"Yeah. You can laugh if you want."

And totally not because your laugh is beautiful and I want to hear it again and maybe take you out cause that would be fun and we'd live happily ever after.

He should write fanfiction, he mused.

And Astrid did laugh. So did the other teens, who were working, but still seemed to be listening to their conversation. But Astrid laughed hard. "How," she said between bouts of laughter, "do you get stuck with a name likeHiccup?"

"Long story, but it did not involve me getting hiccups whatever you may think."

"You'll have to tell me that story sometime," she said with all seriousness, "So, what are you good at?"

"Er, I can draw, sort of, kind of, not really, like, I'm not DiCaprio - I, I meant Da Vinci! I just get those two mixed up because they both start with Leonardo, like, it's their first name, what's with that, right?"

She started to laugh again. "Thor knows how I'll be able to get any work withyou here."

"That's what I said!" chimed the female twin, "He is one good-looking new kid!"

Both teens blushed, and Astrid scowled. "That's not what I meant, Ruff."

Ruffnut smirked. "Hiccup and Astrid sittin in a tree - "

"Ruff!" The blonde all but yelled, although she was quickly turning red. "We justmet!"

"Does that mean you'd give him a chance?" asked Tuffnut, "Like, if you knew him better."

HIccup chanced a glance (that rhymed! kinda…) at the pretty girl, who was looking very wound up, not the confident badass chick she had been a minute ago. And the weird thing was, she still looked pretty and badass.

When he was wound up, he was pretty sure he looked like a maniac. Not that he got wound up often. He got irritated at a normal human rate, but angry? Rarely.

And opposites attracted, didn't they?

Gods. Stop it, Hiccup. She's out of your league.

"Maybe," the girl finally muttered, "Maybe."

Cause you've been hurt before, I can see it in your eyes.

Great. Now he was thinking about Demi Lovato songs. What was wrong with him?

" -cup? Hiccup!"

Hiccup snapped out of his daze. "Sorry. Demi Lovato - I mean, what is it?"

Astrid let out another bubble of laughter. "Where did Demi Lovato come fro- never mind. I'll get distracted again. I don't think we need artists, but are you good at taking pictures?"

"Good enough."

"That's good. Fishlegs, get him a camera, will you? Then, I'll explain to him what sort of material we print here."

The chubby boy nodded, and beckoned Hiccup over to a drawer before giving Hiccup a very old fashioned Peter Parker kind of camera. It was pretty cool.

"Good luck," Fishlegs told him, "Although I doubt you need it. You've made Astrid laugh more in one minute than we can in an entire week."

"Seriously?"

Now this was an interesting development.

"Seriously. She's cold. Really cold."

"Okay, then…"

He didn't really care. If he had made her laugh, then that meant he had a chance, didn't it? Or not. Maybe not.

But it wouldn't hurt to try.

…

B18 had become his favorite room.

Bonus

"Can you pass me the camera, babe?"

"I thought the camera was mine."

"You're childish."

"You love me."

"That I do."

"Knew it."

"Get back to work, you dork."

"Yes, milady."

So, this is totally NOT because I just joined the newspaper and had trouble finding the room in my new school no haha why would you think that ARE YOU STALKING ME

Really, though, I haven't started yet (I start tomorrow! Wish me luck!) so I have no clue what people do. And I'm pretty sure I won't be as lucky as Hiccup. But eh.