After being gone for more than a year from FF, I realized I still had unpublished works, and it'd be a shame not to share them! This was written a year ago, I could probably revise it, but I'm too busy to do that, sorry!

It's a high-school AU of Mondler of 15 chapters, nobody else is there except for them (Ross is Monica's brother but he's off to Uni so we don't see him). I've explained important stuff in chapter 1 anyway ;) It's probably a bit later than the year they actually grew up in but there are no reference to a precise period of time. Although the beginning is a lot about Mondler, the second part will focus more on Chandler's parents.

Chandler and Monica are young, but they do not have the personalities the show gave them when they showed them young. It really didn't fit Monica to have her behave the way she was in the flashbacks. It's closer to the way their adult selves behave in the show, but some things are different. I've tried to include things Chandler mentions in the show about his parents, but some things also are different in this.

The air was thick and humid, as a promise of rain. There were clouds, but still no rain, and it had been going like this since the morning. Students were chatting, laughing, sharing... going on with their lives, mostly.

Chandler was bored, as usual. He was sitting near the window, paying only half attention to the ongoing history class. He already knew most of what the teacher was explaining anyway. Not that he was super-smart or anything, but he had just been bored a lot in his life, and had gotten into reading quite a lot since his parents' divorce.

He winced at the thought, shaking his head to snap out of his thoughts. He didn't need to be thinking about that now. History. History was interesting. He could listen instead of think.

He didn't listen. But he didn't think about his parents either, which was a good thing. When the bell finally rang, announcing the end of the day, he sighed heavily and gathered his things, not as quickly as some, but still eagerly. He walked out the school slowly, fought with his bike which was stuck, and almost swore when it finally agreed to come with him. He looked around at the other students for a moment, wondering if he would ever feel as if he fitted, and decided that he wouldn't. It was too late for that anyway. It was his last year in high school, then he could forget about everything and go to College. Not that he had any idea of what he wanted to do. Maybe something with numbers, he was good with numbers, although he didn't enjoy it that much.

Chandler sighed, not wanting to linger on such thoughts, and finally climbed on his bike. He just felt lonely, sometimes. He was used to it, of course he was, but it never stopped being painful. He didn't mind that much once he was at home, with anything he wanted made available, but when he saw all those groups of friends, laughing and exchanging stories, he yearned for the same thing.

He stopped his bike suddenly when he saw an unusual group a bit off the school. There were students he knew well enough to know that they wouldn't hang out with the girl in the middle of their weird circle. She was the girl he was sure felt the same way as he did, which didn't mean that he had ever really tried to talk to her, although he didn't really know why. It was also the sister of one of his former friends, and she looked afraid in the middle of everyone. They probably were making fun of her weight again, and Chandler felt his blood boiling.

"Hey!" he called from his bike, getting off easily. "What's up?"

"Nothing, jerk," one of the students muttered.

Nobody was friend with him, but that didn't mean that nobody knew who he was. Or rather, who his mother was, and rich people seemed to scare them off. The group hesitated, probably wondering if it was worth it, but finally broke and walked away while Chandler just stood and waited. He then turned slowly to the girl, smiling awkwardly.

"You okay?" he asked, putting his hands in his pockets casually.

"Huh... Yeah," she answered, looking away.

"Do you want me to walk you home?"

"What?"

"Nobody's waiting for me at home," he shrugged.

She hesitated, then nodded. "Thanks," she whispered, starting to walk.

"I assume you remember me," he tried, walking back to his bike and climbing on it, going slowly next to the girl.

"Yeah."

He sighed, wondering why she had agreed to him walking her home if she didn't want to talk. It probably was just to be polite and because he had saved her from yet another humiliation by someone from school. He knew she was an easy target of bullying because she was overweight, and he felt bad for her, but he had never gathered the courage to go speak to her. Not because he was ashamed of being seen with her, but because he was bad at making friends, and he didn't want to say something wrong or hurt her.

She was Ross' little sister, Monica, only one year separating them, which explained why she was now in Chandler's class – he had doubled a year when he was twelve. Ross had been one of his closest friends when he was younger, way before his parents' divorce, but Chandler had put distance with everyone without meaning to, and he had never really connected with Ross again. And losing a year in school hadn't helped him. They still talked if they saw each other, but it happened less and less, especially since Ross had gone away to College. Chandler hadn't really made new friends, but he had been unable to let those guys annoy Monica again. She deserved some rest, and it was just plainly mean and unfair.

"So, huh, how's Ross?" he said, trying to start the conversation.

She glared at him and he regretted his question, looking at the ground. When he noticed she wasn't walking next to him anymore, he glanced back and accelerated only to skid. He did another controlled U-turn a bit after having gone past Monica, and stopped at her level. Maybe he was showing off a little, just because he usually didn't have any audience. At least, she was smiling when he arrived near her.

"He's fine," she finally answered and started walking again.

He grinned to himself as he followed her. He had made her smile! That was all he wanted from people now, to smile at him, not really caring why they were smiling – because of one of his jokes or to mock him.

"So, what do you think of the new history teacher?" he asked, once again trying to make conversation.

This time, she seemed happier about the question and answered, talking with him a bit.

They stopped in front of her house, just for him to explain her something about a president of the United States, and he left after making her laugh one last time. As he pedaled fast to his house, he smiled. He felt a bit less lonely. And he really loved the feeling of the wind against his face and his too-large t-shirt.