Hey Everyone.

With this story, I've decided to have the characters not be related, but also for them to have different ethnic backgrounds because I love diversity. So here are the characters' ethnicity.

Blossom- French

Boomer- Native Hawaiian and Swedish

Brick- Scottish

Bubbles- Puerto Rican

Butch- Brazilian

Buttercup- Japanese

With that said, I hope everyone enjoys my story as much as I do. Thank you!

As the city bus slowly approached his destination, Brick began to grow anxious. He gazed out the window, growing a little familiar with his new surroundings, to distract himself. Knowing that applying to Townsville Academy was the most intelligent thing he could do since Brick was out-pacing his old school—and he knew he would be easily accepted; Brick did not anticipate what moving to the entire opposite coast without knowing a single soul would feel like. However, deep down, he knew he will be fine.

The bus came to a steady stop in front of Townsville Academy. As he exited the public transportation, Brick was glad to be able to stretch his legs. Being stuck in a confined space for an extended period was one of the few disadvantages of being 6'2" in height.

After adjusting his copper locks under his hat, Brick reluctantly headed straight towards the campus's main office. He was informed in an email he will need to visit there first to receive a tour of the campus. Needlessly to say, Brick was not exactly psyched about being treated like a tourist.

During his walk, he took in the appearance of the school. Brick noted the entire campus had a colonial-style appeal as some buildings were being swallowed up by ivy leaves. All the academic buildings surrounded a sizable courtyard, where a large, marble fountain was the centerpiece. The landscape included numerous oak trees that lined along the pathways–most were starting to lose their leaves for their habitual autumn routine. Picnic tables laid under every other tree, waiting to be occupied by students. The architecture and greenery reminded him of the aesthetic of an Ivy League school. He smirked to himself, believing this was a sign of him making the right decision. It was apparent this school held itself up to a high standard.

He entered the office–which seemed more like a hotel lobby than anything. Greeted warmly by the secretary, she informed Brick that he will need to have an introduction with the Principal, directing him towards their office.

Upon entering the room, Brick founded the Principal speaking on the phone. They were sitting in an oversized, leather chair with the back of their chair facing Brick. Brick took one step out of office, feeling like he was intruding; however, the Principal stuck out their hand and motioned for Brick to take a seat.

Selecting one of the two chairs in front of the desk, Brick analyzed the room. He discovered there was an overwhelming and thick fruity odor to the small space. The office was painted a bold red with a fluffy, pink carpet for the flooring–Brick found the color selection to be tacky. Pictures covered walls, varying from past school events over the years to personal photos. A shelf hung on the western wall, full of a variety of objects that were types of crustacean. Brick was puzzled by the eclectic choice of collectibles. He noted the plaque on the desk, stating Principal Him in bold lettering. He chuckled slightly to himself. What kind of last name was Him?

Principal Him spun the chair around, meeting Brick's face for the first time but avoiding eye contact. Brick immediately dropped the grin on his face, appearing stoic to avoid the principal noticing him laughing. Still consumed in the phone conversation, the principal wrote something down furiously. Brick noticed how Him's voice echoed throughout the office, even though the principal spoke in a whispery, feminine-like tone.

Him was nothing like Brick would ever imagine. The principal had slick, black hair styled in a ponytail. Pink-pigmented skin that seemed to be easily flushed. A face with sharp features and high cheek-bones. A small, almost feminine frame that was too noticeable in his slim-fitted, black suit, but Him was at least 6 feet tall. Him also a pointy goatee and weirdly, big sausage fingers that were almost claw-like.

Brick now somewhat understood Him's obsession with crustaceans.

"I told you already! Juvenile behavior will not be accepted, and if you do not discipline that little brat, you will be fired!" Him roared, slamming the phone into the receiver, changing from a feminine tone to a masculine one. The principal's face was burning red all over.

The outburst shocked Brick, but he remained with a poker face, blinking at his principal in acknowledgment. He waited for Him to say something, but instead of apologizing for the erratic behavior, Him closed their eyes, counting to ten. After those ten seconds passed, Him smoothly smiled at Brick, rapidly changing from red to pink.

"Hello, you must be Brick Adams." Brick nodded slowly, confused by Him's sudden mood change and reversion to a chirper, feminine tone. "Great! It's such a pleasure to meet you. I'm so glad you have decided to transfer to Townsville Academy. In fact, I was reading your file the other day, and may I say, you are a very well fit for this school. I was extremely impressed by your football stats and your entrance exam score. It's actually the second-best score we ever received. And–Oh my, where are my manners, I forgot to introduce myself," Him straighten their claw of a hand, initiating a handshake, which Brick accepted, "I'm Principal Him… Now, where was I... Oh yeah, I would just like to address some general rules we have here at TA. First, absolutely no cheating of any kind on your assignments, or you'll be dealing with expulsion. Second, you must maintain a minimum GPA of 3.0—which from what I saw in your file, you'll have no problem doing. Third, you are not allowed to enter any of the opposite sex's dorm room. Do you understand?"

Brick nodded again, trying to keep up with Him's rapid pace of speaking. The only things he got from the introduction was Him's name and how glad the principal was to have Brick there.

"Splendid! Here's your schedule, room key, and other information you'll be needing. Mr. Kealoha should be by the front desk–He'll be showing you around today. I hope you have a wonderful day!"

Brick exited the office, approaching the front desk again, looking around for his welcoming committee. There were only three other people in the office: the secretary, a blond male, and a girl with brown hair. The blond and the girl were engaged in a light conversation. The girl was giggling at something the male said. Given that Principal Him said his tour guide would be male, Brick tapped on the blond's shoulder, interrupting their conversation.

"Um, you're Kealoha, right?" Brick asked, shifting his crimson eyes between the two strangers. The girl shared a smile with him before excusing herself. Brick learned her name was Robin from the blond shouting her goodbye on her way out of the office. The male then focused his attention on Brick.

He was about a two or three inches shorter than Brick, and also lacking the same definition of muscle as him, but the blond was noticeably lean. His blond hair was almost completely bleached, which Brick could tell was from prolonged sun exposure. The rich bronze tone of his skin greatly contrasted with the dark blue hue of his eyes.

Brick was convinced the blond came straight out of a 50's surfer movie.

"Well, that's my last name," he answered. A few seconds later, his eyes widen. Brick presumed the blond finally processed why he was approaching him. He could already tell his guide was not going to be the brightest. "You must be the new kid?" Brick nodded. The blond grinned widely, "Wassup, man? I'm Boomer."

"Brick."

Boomer nodded with a smile, "I guess we should start the tour," he said with Brick alongside him. "So, what do you want to see first?"

"Doesn't matter," Brick shrugged. "Just anything to get out of this office. That principal kind of gives me the creeps," Brick admitted, gesturing towards Him's office.

Boomer to let out a small but loud laugh. "Classic Him. Always freaking us students out."

"Speaking of Him... I just have one question, and it might not sound too politically correct—" Boomer blinked at Brick, not understand the problem. Brick sighed, shaking his head. "Nevermind about that, but um… Is Him just a really feminine man or a woman who grew a beard?" Brick asked in all seriousness.

Boomer's ocean-blue eyes widened once again, "Dude… I've been here for three whole years, and I still don't know the answer to that question."

Brick chuckled at the blond's response, as he followed him to the courtyard Brick had previously looked at ten minutes ago. Even though the blond was sort of dense, Brick found himself enjoying his presence.

Boomer escorted him around the exterior of the campus, telling him about the Academy's history. They entered a building called McCracken hall—or as Boomer dubbed it, the "only hall that matters"—full of all the core study classes. The hall was brightly illuminated, making the white tiled floor shine underneath their feet. Brick could practically see his reflection in the tiles. Walls were covered in lockers sequencing in turquoise and cherry red—matching the school colors—and flyers for clubs and sports for students to join in the new school year.

As Boomer decided to turn around to show Brick the gymnasium, the bell rang, and the hallway flooded with students. He navigated Brick though the swarm of classmates, waving and occasionally smiling at some. They were about to leave the hall when Boomer saw a glimpse of strawberry blonde hair from the corner of his eye. He turned to Brick, and mumbled, "I should probably introduce you to…"

Brick did not quite catch the individual's name since Boomer was leading him through the chaotic hall. Boomer brought him to a girl's locker as she was too busy searching in her locker to notice them growing closer.

"Blossom, I want you to meet the new kid." Blossom quickly turned her head to address the boys, looking up and smiling at the two. "His name is Brick Adams," Boomer said, pointing to Brick's chest, causing Brick to give him a puzzled look. Boomer ignored him, shifting the attention to Blossom. "And this is our class president, head cheerleader, dance team captain, and quite possibly, our valedictorian. The one and the only, Blossom Blanchette."

"Well, aren't you an overachiever?" Brick quipped, crossing his arms, cocking his eyebrow with a smirk, taking in her appearance.

She was at least a foot shorter than him but had the presence and confidence that made their height difference barely noticeable. Her skin seemed like flawless porcelain, brightly contrasting with her light orange hair that could be passable as bronzey blonde shade, which was stylized in a high ponytail with side bangs. With plump lips, rosy cheeks, and watermelon pink eyes, she had a delicate appearance. She had an incredibly well-toned body, especially in her legs—which she was showing off with a pair of high-waisted, black shorts.

"I hate to break it to you, but this school was solely created for overachievers. Mediocrity isn't going get you very far here," Blossom said smoothly, shrugging her shoulder. Brick's eyebrows furrowed in response. An awkward silence fell between the trio, with Boomer darting his eyes back and forth. Blossom broke the tension, putting her hand out and displaying a professional smile, "Anyways, it's nice to meet you, Brick." Brick met her hand, shaking it, and both returning their hands to their sides quickly, "I'll have to get to know you better later—I have to get to my French class right now."

She took a step forward, leaving at least two inches between her and Brick. "But first, as Class President, I should inform you, you are breaking the dress code with that hat of yours." Brick glared at her as she poked his hat, pushing it back a little. He tried to resist the urge to fix it but immediately did so. Blossom let out a small chuckle, stepping back, "You're lucky it's your first day... I'll let it slide. This time only, " she promised with a grin, walking past the two boys. "But Boomer, I might consider taking you off the welcome committee if you can't enforce the rules," she joked from the down the hall.

"Well, she was… Interesting." Brick said, not really sure on what else to say. He really wanted to say that she was kind of a bitch, but that would not be entirely appropriate.

"Practically everyone says that about Blossom when they met her. She seems intimidating at first, but once you get to know her, she's actually pretty cool… Well, that is if she likes you, which I'm sure she will," Boomer rambled, walking Brick to the Gym.

"So… do you like the campus?" Boomer asked, leading Brick through the lunch line, deciding between getting an apple or an orange. He shrugged his shoulders and took both, grinning at his decision.

"Bigger than I thought." Brick said, exiting the line.

"That's usually what all the new kids say–granted, we've only had three new kids over the past three years, you being the third–"

"Yo, Boom, who's the fucking ginger?" A dark-haired male shouted across the courtyard, earning him a lot of stares. He caught up with them, joining them in finding a picnic table.

He was two inches taller than Brick, staring down his forest green eyes at everyone. His curly, dark hair was gelled messily—making it look like he had just got out of bed, but not in a sloppy way. Every part of his body was well-toned, giving him a statue-esque physique. He had a deep tan complexion—which Brick could tell was from his natural ethnic background and not long sun exposure like Boomer's.

"Butch, this is Brick. He just transferred," Boomer informed, taking a step back to let the two interact. "He used to play varsity football at his old school," he added, knowing it would capture Butch's interest.

Butch grinned with approval, "Varsity, Huh? What position?"

"Wide Receiver."

"Were you any good?"

Brick snorted, "I scored at least one touchdown per game. I went for almost twelve hundred yards last season. I also played cornerback a few times because of injuries–in which, I had five interceptions."

Butch raised an eyebrow, "Did–"

"And yes, we won two championships," Brick boasted with a smug grin.

"Impressive. You're joining our team then, right?"

"Well-"

"It's going to be great to finally have someone who can catch a fucking ball for once," Butch continued, cutting Brick off.

"Yeah, totally…" Brick mumbled, wanting to avoid the subject. He enjoyed bragging about his old glories, but not his future in the sport. He was not sure if he still wanted to play. Luckily, they were called by three girls to come to their table, distracting Butch from carrying on the conversation—much to Brick's relief.

One of the girls was Blossom. The other two was a tall, skinny girl with short black hair who appeared to be of Asian descent, and the other was short and curvy girl with curly, dirty blonde hair. The blonde instantly ran over to Boomer, kissing him. Brick noted that she obviously must be the girlfriend that Boomer spoke variously about during his tour.

At the table, Boomer sat next to his girlfriend. While Butch sat across from Blossom, who was next to the blondes, forcing Brick to sit in between Butch and the dark-haired girl.

"So this is my lovely girlfriend, Bubbles," Boomer said, kissing her cheek. "And that's Buttercup."

"Hi, it's very nice to meet." Bubbles greeted sweetly.

"Yeah, totally," Buttercup mumbled sarcastically.

"Buttercup and Bubbles? That's really your names?" Brick chuckled in disbelief. Blossom and Boomer were already ridiculous names, to begin with—however, Brick did know of some other individuals with those names—but Buttercup and Bubbles? That was starting to push it a little.

"Yes and no... Bubbles is a nickname that Butch gave me freshmen year–"

"It's because she has a bubbly personality," Butch said, stuffing his mouth with fries. The entire table cringed a little at the sight of the half-chewed food in his mouth that showed when he spoke.

Bubbles giggled, which sounded childlike to Brick. "My real name is Olivia, but everyone calls me Bubbles. I prefer it more too." She took a sip of her soda before continuing, "Blossom and Boomer are nicknames too."

"Yeah, and it will also haunt you for your entire high school career," Blossom said, rolling her eyes. "You know, I'm named after my grandmother, Rosemarie, but now I share the same name as a 90's sitcom character."

"Hey! I gave you that name because you're as beautiful as a flower, not because–whoever the hell you're referencing," Butch said defensively.

"Don't try to suck up now, Butch."

"Why not? It's gotten me this far, and you're still dating me. So I'm going to keep it up."

Blossom rolled her eyes again, but with a playful smile this time, "You just love making me miserable, don't you?"

"It's what I look forward to every day."

Brick raised an eyebrow at the two. So there were two couples within the group. Brick turned to the dark-haired girl next to him, narrowing his eyes at her. Was this a subtle way from the others telling him to date her? Brick was not really into the idea. He could already tell Buttercup would not be his type. And―

"Do you have a fucking problem?" Buttercup growled at Brick.

His eyes widen, not realizing he was still staring. He put his hands up defensively, "No. No. No, not at all–I was… um, was wondering if Buttercup was your real name?" Brick babbled, impressed by his sort of quick thinking.

"Yes," Buttercup seethed. "It's the translation of my actual name, which means Buttercup. Sadly, my parents weren't in the right state of mind when they were naming me," she finished snarkily as she moved a piece of hair out of her eyes. Her voice had a certain throaty grit to it that made her sound angry whenever she spoke.

"What's your real name?"

"Kinpōge."

"What language is that?"

"Japanese."

"While we're on the topic of our names and nicknames. Can I ask why Boomer is Boomer?" Blossom interjected, abruptly ending the individual conversation between Brick and Buttercup as they both turned their full attention to the redhead's question.

"Yeah, it's been three years, and we still don't know why," Buttercup chimed.

Butch shrugged his shoulders, "He reminded me of a boomerang when I spent all of freshmen year trying to get rid of him, but he never left. Boomerang was too long, so I shorten it. Thus, Boomer was born."

"Wow... I never knew," Boomer said, grinning ear to ear. "My mind has been completely blown."

"Um, did you hear the part about him wanting to get rid of you? Because I did, and that's fucking rude, Butch," Buttercup challenged. Brick felt the same way as the girl, but did not feel like it was his place to say anything—he did only know these people for less than three hours now.

"Trust me, Buttercup. You do not want to start something," Butch said venomously, shooting her daggers.

"Butters, it's fine. I know I can be too much sometimes. It's all cool. So we can chill, alright?"

"Yeah. Chill out," Blossom said coldly to Butch and Buttercup, staring at them like an angry mom. They both followed her order, shutting their mouths and slumping in the bench more to avoid eye contact with each other.

"So um, what's Boomer's real name then?" Brick asked to cut the tension.

"Oh, it's not that exciting. It's–"

Before Boomer could answer, an all too familiar feminine voice rang through the PA.

"Attention students. I would like to say I am very excited about the new school year and I know this will be the best one yet. I can't wait for the memories we will make this year and the progress you'll make... I would also like to inform you that your lunch period is now over."

Everyone in the courtyard stared confusedly at each other.

"I thought lunch wasn't over for another ten minutes?" Bubbles asked innocently.

As if Principal Him heard her question personally, the principal came back on the PA, but this time, more aggressively and manly.

"That means to get to class!"

As if a building was on fire, everyone in the courtyard rushed to their feet and practically ran in the various directions of their next class, sending the newly formed group of six in separate ways.

The group was reunited by the seventh class of the day, which they all shared together. The course being Creative Writing with Ms. Keane–a class requirement for seniors.

The upperclassmen were excited for this class period primarily because of Ms. Keane. She had been their English teacher last year before she decided to change her curriculum so she could teach them again. To some students, she was like a mentor or a mother-figure.

Her class lined up outside of her classroom, waiting for their teacher to come back from her lunch break. To pass the time, Bubbles and Boomer shared a set of earbuds. They sang silently, in sync, to whatever song they were listening to. Buttercup did the same, nodding her head to the beat of her own music. Butch was telling Blossom a story about an event that happened over the summer. From the face that Blossom was making, she was either not interested in what he was saying or disapproved of whatever it was. Then there was Brick, who felt like a fly on the wall.

He stood between all of them, not really sure where he belonged or what to do. At his old school, he was the main attraction. He was what Butch is here, but now, he was the new kid. The person everyone wanted to get to know, yet neglected to do because they do not care enough to do so. The thought of spending his senior year practically alone freaked the hell out of him. There was only one thing he could do, and that was to turn up the charm and befriend someone.

He looked at his classmates, trying to find someone that was unoccupied. He only found two, Buttercup and a short, red-headed boy. From his appearance–thick glasses, sweater vest with a pocket protector, pressed khakis, and sketchers that Brick swears light up–and the fact he was reading an encyclopedia, Brick could tell he was the "school nerd." Which meant, even if he was a nice person, Brick could not associate himself with the short ginger, or that would be social suicide.

Brick looked at Buttercup. He was deciding on whether to approach her. As if she already knew what he was thinking about it, she sent him a cold stare, slowly shaking her head. This left Brick with one option: the ginger.

Brick sighed deeply, telling himself to forget about the social hierarchy and just be nice. He walked up to the redhead–who was almost a foot shorter than him–and tapped on his shoulder. The boy did not dare to look up from his book.

"Yes, what is it? Is Ms. Keane finally back?" the redhead asked. He had a slight lisp when he spoke.

"Hey, I'm Brick Adams. I just transferred–"

"Transferred?" The short boy gasped, quickly shutting his book and shoving it into his backpack. He readjusted his glasses and then narrowed his eyes at Brick. "No one told me about a transfer student. Tell me, what qualified you to even step foot on this campus? What is your grade point average? Extracurricular activities? Entrance exam score?" he quizzed rapidly.

"Um…" Brick was caught off guard by the questions. He felt like he was being interrogated. A part of him wanted to walk away and try again later with someone else. Still, as he looked around at the rest of class–who were giving him strange looks because he was talking to the red-head–he decided to try now. They both needed this. Brick cleared his throat and answered his questions, "I have a 3.9 GPA unweighted and 4.7 weighted–"

"I guess that's decent enough. Most of the neanderthals here can only amount to a 3.2. Although it is not as impressive as my 4.0 unweighted and 5.1 weighted," the redhead interrupted, nodding his head.

"I played varsity football–"

"Ugh, sports. You already lost me. You're just going to be another Butch," redhead dismissed, turning his shoulder away from Brick and waving his hand to shooing him away.

Brick wanted to say a lot of things he knew would instantly make the redhead cry, but he had to control his frustration. Taking a lesson from Principal Him, Brick closed his eyes and counted to ten. Like he said to himself before, they both needed this. Taking a couple more deep breaths, he continued.

"Then I guess you'll never know my entrance exam score," Brick taunted, knowing the redhead would take the bait.

The short boy slowly turned his head, sighing. "Fine, I could use a good laugh, anyway. I don't expect much from you jocks anyways."

"Well... I got 982. According to Him, it's the second-best score they've ever received," Brick said nonchalantly.

The redhead stared at Brick with his mouth agape. "But… But… That's… Impossible… I cannot believe you did better than me. A dumb jock did better than me," he said to himself in disbelief. The redhead stood there in shock for a few seconds before composing himself and extending his hand to Brick, which Brick accepted. "Somehow, in some way, you did better than me. A task that only one other at this school could ever do. Because of that, I will wholeheartedly respect you from now on. Congratulations"

"Thanks," Brick accepted cautiously.

"I'm Dexter. Dexter O'Reilly."

"Well, Dexter O'Reilly, you can consider this dumb jock to be a friend of yours, got it?"

"I don't need friends," he responded, but the small, thankful smile on his face said otherwise. "But… That was a pleasant gesture," Dexter mumbled.

Brick wanted to continue the conversation, but someone shouted about Ms. Keane's arrival. Dexter promptly ran to the door to make sure he was the first to be seated, leaving Brick alone again.

The class lined up against the wall as Ms. Keane took roll and assigned a seat to each student.

"Come on, Keane, you're not really going to giving us a seating chart. We're seniors, not kindergartners," Butch complained, crossing his arms in protest when it was his turn. His stance reminded Brick of a toddler throwing a fit over not getting the toy they wanted.

"Mr. Santos, if you want me to be honest, I made this chart because of you. Unfortunately, after your antics with Mr. Ramirez and Mr. Mitchelson last year that really cut into my class time so much, I was unable to go over Macbeth, House of Mirth–"

"What a fucking tragedy," Butch quipped, which Ms. Keane ignored.

"–Which was a big part of your final exam. And if I do remember correctly, you almost failed."

"Ms. Keane! That's private information," he whispered harshly at her.

Keane raised an eyebrow, "If that's not enough to reason with you, I'm sure your classmates don't want to go through another year of you constantly trying to impress Miss. Blanchette."

"You tell him, Ms. Keane!" Buttercup shouted from the back of the line. Butch sent her a nasty look that she responded with a smug grin.

"But–"

"Butch, just go sit down already," Blossom said sternly. Her cheeks had a slight burst of red from Ms. Keane's previous comment. Butch sighed in defeat, asking what his seat was again. Before he went, Blossom grabbed his shoulder and pulling him down for a quick kiss. "Stop getting worked up over the little things, okay?" she whispered in his ear, causing him to nodded with a small smile.

Within a few minutes, there was only one more desk that was not filled, and that was Brick's, who stood at the back of the line the whole time.

"You must be the new student." Brick nodded. "Well, it's a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Adams," she said, staring down at her clipboard. "Now let me see… Alright, you're seated by the window, right behind Miss. Blanchette and in front of Mr. Ramirez."

Brick thanked her and walked over to his seat. He could tell no one favored their seating arrangement. Butch sat right in front of Ms. Keane's desk, and Buttercup sat right next to him. The two sent dirty looks to each other whenever the other was not looking. Next to Buttercup was Dexter, who was reading his encyclopedia. Boomer and Bubbles were on opposite sides of the classroom from each other, but they each had a friend nearby. A tall, blonde named Dee Dee on Bubbles' side and a brown-haired, freckled boy named Mitch on Boomer's. Blossom stared blankly out the window, ignoring the girl's conversation in front of her—who Brick recognized as Robin earlier that morning. The guy behind Brick wore a pair of sunglasses to hide the fact that he had fallen asleep. Brick chuckled at the sight, slumping in his seat, waiting for the school day to end.

Brick planned on settling into his dorm. The papers he was given in the morning did not state who his roommate would be. Only informing him that his room was in Kenny Hall, and the dorm number was 112.

Boomer told him on his tour that he will be staying in the same hall, which eased Brick's comfort level. He just hoped he would not have a jackass of a roommate.

When he found the room, Brick was unsure whether he was supposed to knock or just open the door with his key.

"Ah fuck it," Brick mumbled to himself, shoving the key into the slot and turning it. Upon entering the room, he found his roommate was not there yet.

He gazed around the room, trying to grasp the concept of how this 15x15 foot room was going to be his new home for the next year. Luckily, they had a bathroom installed in their room, which was on Brick's will-be-side of the room. The closet they had to share was on his roommate's side. A pile of dirty clothes laid next to the closet—Brick figured it could rival Mount Everest in height. His roommate did not bother making his bed in the morning, leaving the sheets in a wrinkled mess. A collection of sports equipment hung in a bag on the door, so Brick knew his roommate was an athlete of some kind. The room came with two desks, and from the look of it, his roommate neglected to use his'. A bible and picture frame were the only things that adorned the vacant desk.

Brick picked up the frame out of curiosity, examining the photo. He expected some kind of family photo, but instead, it was of his roommate and his girlfriend. He had his arms wrapped around her waist while she grabbed onto his muscular arms. Lovingly smiles were plastered on their faces, too busy looking at each other to look at the camera. The photo was taken with a dull filter, but the girl's bright orange hair still stood out just like it did earlier that day.

The doorknob began to jingling, alerting Brick to put the photo back on the desk. He rushed over to his desk chair, trying to appear like he had been sitting there the whole time.

"What the fuck?" Butch shouted when entering the room, throwing his key at Brick's head, but missing by an inch thanks to Brick's quick reflexes. He then clutched his chest, staring at Brick with a wide set of eyes. "Jesus fucking Christ, man! You scared the shit out of me! What are you doing in my room? Wait, let me rephrase that. How did you get in here?"

Brick chuckled, jingling his own room key, "Apparently, I'm your new roommate."

"Roommate?" Butch exclaimed, "Nothing against you, but no one told me about a fucking roommate. God, I hate Him. Never tells us anything–Fuck man, this means I can't have Blossom sleepover now. This totally blows," Butch pouted. Brick arched an eyebrow, crossing his arms. Butch smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, "I'm making you feel un-welcomed, aren't I?"

"Just a tiny bit," Brick said sarcastically, holding up his fingers to displaying the small space between them.

"Yeah… Sorry. Still working on the whole talking without a filter thing."

"It's cool."

"Alright," Butch nodded. "Well… Want me to give you a tour of our room?"

"I think I've already seen everything there is to see," Brick chuckled.

Butch grinned, opening the bathroom door, "Just saying, you're missing out on one hell of a tour... I'm taking a shower. If you have to piss, Boomer's room is across the hall," he said, locking himself in the bathroom.

While Butch was in the shower, Brick took the time to set up his side of the room. He did not bring much with him, considering Brick did not have much, to begin with. He only brought his favorite pillow, a month and a half worth of clothes, his red hat and watch, sports equipment, and a couple pictures of him and his mom.

As he hung the last photo, the room began to feel slightly like home. He sighed contently as he sunk into his twin-sized bed, closing his eyes for a few minutes.

In what he thought was only a couple of minutes was actually three hours, as he was awoken by Butch, harshly, throwing a dirty shirt at him.

"What the fuck, man?" he shouted, throwing the shirt back at him.

"Just trying to wake you up, which it totally worked," Butch said innocently, catching the shirt and throwing it back into his laundry mountain. "Anyways, there's a "get together" tonight, and I was wondering if you wanted to go."

"I'll pass," Brick replied, turning his hat frontwards and lowering it to cover his eyes. He was exhausted from the day and starting to feel his jet-lag coming back.

"Come on," Butch said, pulling his hat off. Brick glared at him, snatching out it of his hand. "This is a good chance for you to get to know everyone. Make some friends. Maybe even make some lady friends." Butch wiggled his eyebrows, causing Brick to roll his eyes while he fixed his hair to put his hat back on. Butch frowned at him, "Fine. If you don't fucking want to go, then don't."

Brick sighed deeply, discovering Butch was one of those people who would not let it go if he did not go. "Alright, fine. I'll go."

Butch grinned, "Great. Now go take a fucking shower and get dressed. We're leaving in 15."

The "get together" was on campus in an abandoned building. Butch said it used to be for the Agricultural program before Him shut it down. Now the building was vacant during the day, and the only place students could hang out after hours.

Butch also claimed it was one of the best places to hook up, but Brick ignored that.

From the outside, it appeared like no one had stepped foot in the building in years; however, the inside told a different story. There was a least a hundred people in there. A dance floor was located in the center as the speakers blasted an old but popular Rihanna song. In one corner, an intense beer pong competition was underway. In the other, a group circled to pass a couple of joints around. Between that, friends socialized, couples mysteriously disappeared, and Brick stood solemnly, drinking a beer while leaning against a wall, wondering why the fuck he agreed to come.

"Not your kind of scene, huh?" a female voice asked, joining him by the wall.

"Nah. I would have been all over this shit back home. It's just I don't really know anyone here. It's kind of…"

"Uncomfortable?

He nodded, taking a sip of his beer. He turned his head to take in her appearance. She was wearing more makeup than earlier that day, exaggerating her features more, making her appear a least five years older but in a good way. The black dress she was wearing deeply contrasted with her milky, white skin. Her strawberry blonde hair was down, allowing the flowy strands to reach her waist.

Brick must have looked at her a little too long because she raised an eyebrow at him.

"What? Do have something in my hair?" she asked, furiously combing through her hair.

"What? No… No, you're fine," Brick said, taking another sip to hide the hint of red on his cheeks.

"Then why were you looking at me like that?" she questioned suspiciously, crossing her arms.

"I just… didn't expect this to be your kind of scene. Doesn't exactly fit the whole Valedictorian stereotype," he responded smoothly.

Blossom rolled her eyes, "It really isn't, but I have to keep up my social appearances for everyone here. I really only enjoy the dancing and Butch… Most of the time, at least."

Brick chuckled, "Where is Butch anyways? I lost him when we got here."

"Try to defend his beer pong title. Going 41 games strong."

"Aren't you a cheerleader? Shouldn't you be cheering him on?"

"Can't. He says I'm too distracting."

"He sure is charming, isn't he?" he quipped, taking a sip.

She laughed at his comment, sighing fondly, "Luckily for me, he is."

"Well then, I just have a question to ask," he said, speaking into an invisible microphone. "How does it feel to be dating a beer pong legend?"

Blossom laughed again, "Pretty great, I guess... Except for when he wants to make out after downing twelve drinks. All I can say, beer breath is so not sexy."

"Oh God, that's terrible," Brick said, letting out a laugh.

"Trust me. You do not want to know."

"I've probably been there. More likely, I was Butch, though," he grinned sheepishly.

"Well, now you have no right to laugh. You've probably traumatized some poor girls in…"

"Boston," he finished.

"Well, you've probably traumatized some poor girls in Boston just like I have been." He laughed again, causing her to playful hit his arm, "It's not funny. It's a serious epidemic."

"Maybe you should ban beer pong. Then that could solve your little problem, Miss Class President," Brick joked. Blossom opened her mouth to reply but quickly closed it. She stared at him, thoughtfully. Brick raised an eyebrow and started laughing. "Oh my god! Are you seriously considering it? Aren't you?"

"Shut up... Maybe, I am," she said with a smile, hitting his arm again.

"Easy there, you might bruise me with these super-strength hits."

She rolled her eyes playful, "Come on, you're a tough guy. You'll be fine."

"How do you know I'm a tough guy? I could be as delicate as a flower, you know."

"Please," Blossom said, extending the "s" sound. "Butch told me about your football career. That's a rough game to play. Plus, you have really muscular arms–"

"Oh, I do now? Have you been checking out my arms since I got here," he interrupted, grinned smugly and flexing his arms.

Her face turned a bright red, prompting her to cover some of it with her hair, "No! It's just an observation."

"Okay, whatever you say, Blossom." He took one last sip of his beer.

A brief silence fell between them as they watched the group on the dance floor. Kanye West filled the speakers, rapping about having sex with Taylor Swift.

Blossom pushed back her hair, allowing her to take in his appearance. He was still wearing that god-awful red hat with a few strands of his short, copper hair peeking out―she wondered what he looked like without the hat. His jaw was sharply defined as was everything else about his body. However, the main feature which made him stand out was crimson-colored eyes, captivating anyone who stared into them. He also dressed casually in a plain white t-shirt and slim black jeans.

Without noticing, Blossom had moved a couple inches closer to him. Her shoulder brushing up against his arm, but neither said anything about it.

"...So," Blossom said, easing the tension and biting her bottom lip, "How are you liking TA?"

"It's a lot different than my old school. Way bigger and… I guess I'm not sure if I necessarily like it here yet. Haven't fully adjusted."

Blossom nodded as if she understood, "It also doesn't help that you don't really know anyone," she recalled from their conversation earlier.

"Yeah…"

"If it's anything, Boomer really likes you already. And Bubbles loves anyone—as long as you don't abuse animals. Plus, Butch says the team is super excited about the idea of having you playing with them. And he is kinda happy about the roommate arrangement… That is until he gets extremely horny, but I'll make sure that doesn't happen."

He chuckled dryly, "Did Buttercup say anything?"

"Buttercup doesn't really like anyone except for Bubbles and me."

"Makes sense."

"Trust me, you're going to do fine here," Blossom said, twirling her finger in her hair. "A bunch of girls were going crazy about you in the halls today too."

Brick let out a small chuckle, smiling devilishly, "That's good to know."

"And I think Dexter will come around eventually—"

"Wait. How do you know about that?" he asked suspiciously, narrowing his eyes at her.

Blossom sighed, "I didn't really care for Butch's story about him stealing crab legs–"

"Were they cooked?" Brick interrupted curiously.

"No!"

"Then what's the fucking point?"

"I know! I said the exact same thing—except without the explicit. He's too ridiculous sometimes," she muttered, shaking her head and then flipping her hair. "Anyways, I started to tune him out and tuned into your conversation with Dexter. It was quite amusing."

"Yeah… He's an interesting character."

"He definitely is."

Brick nodded, "So, from what you're telling me, everyone pretty much likes me already?"

Blossom shrugged nonchalantly, "What can I say, we're pretty accepting here."

"...And what do you think?" he asked, staring down at her.

Blossom tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, looking up to meet his eyes. She always hated how guys were always taller than her.

"Despite breaking the dress code… you're pretty decent."

Brick rolled his eyes, smiling, "Thanks."

He was starting to change his opinion on her too. Boomer was right. Blossom was better after the first interaction. No longer did he find her to be bitchy. Brick believed she was pretty decent too.

"No problem. I also think you're way better than the last new kid. By far–"

"My, my, Blossom. It's not kind to talk about people behind their backs," a tall, lanky guy said, coming out of nowhere and lowering his shades to look her in the eyes. He had greasy, long black hair and a face full of acne scars. Brick recognized him as the guy who fell asleep in Ms. Keane's class.

"I'm sorry, Ace. Do you want me to say it to your face?" she asked with venom dripping in each word.

Ace raised an eyebrow, shifting his gaze between the two, noticing the lack of distance they had from one another. He definitely felt like he had interrupted something, "Who's your new friend?" he asked. Brick noticed he had a heavy Brooklyn accent.

"I'm Brick Adams. I sit in front of you in Ms. Keane's class."

"Huh... Alejandro Ramirez, but you can call me Ace. I'm one of Butch's very close friends," he said, staring directly at Blossom.

Blossom glared at him so harshly, it almost appeared like she was going to murder him. "Leave. Now."

Ace rolled his eyes, "Why would I do that, chica? I'm interested in what's going on here."

"What's going on here is me and Brick are having a friendly conversation. Brick, who happens to be Butch's new roommate and will be joining the football team. And I'm sure Butch would not be happy to hear that you're harassing his girlfriend that he loves so dearly. Am I right, chico?" she challenged. Blossom was trying to prevent Ace from telling Butch about anything he saw if there was anything to talk about. Butch was not easy to handle when he was angry, especially when dealing with jealous rage. Even though she knew it was wrong and there was nothing to hide, Blossom knew Ace had a way with manipulating a situation.

Ace glared at her, not wanting to admit defeat, but had to this time. "I need another beer," he mumbled, turning on his heel and walking away.

"What the fuck was that?" Brick asked, staring at her curiously.

Blossom sighed deeply, frowning, "It doesn't matter." She glanced at the dance floor as the latest Drake song began to play. Blossom immediately smiled, grabbing Brick's wrist. "Dance with me," she said, dragging him to the dance floor without his consent.

"Um… I'm not much of a dancer. At least not until I have a few more beers in me," Brick said, having to shout over the loud music. He stood awkwardly, surrounded by people dancing. Some were elbowing him on accident.

"Well, you're in luck because I'm the best dancer here," Blossom replied, swinging her hips to the beat. "Just follow my lead."

And that's precisely what he did.