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asphaltcowgrrlTitle: Smoking in the Boy’s Room Chapter 1
Fandom: Romani Detective/White Pine/Preying Eyes Original Fiction High School AU Crossover Mashup WTF were you thinking menina?
Pairings: All TF over the place.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,183
Summary: Travis feels bad for the new kid and decides to share their lunch hour with him.
Author’s Note: Written for the crossover challenge at 1_million_words. My first thought was to write another installment in the strip club AU that I started a few years ago (and since I only seem to add to it once every two years, now would be a good time), but I decided on this instead. The strip club AU might still be forthcoming though. You were warned.
The new kid sat quietly at the edge of the cafeteria, staring at his lunch as if it was an alien life form. He looked more than a little lost and alone. Travis looked around the lunchroom of their small school and sighed. None of his other friends were around so he bit the bullet and headed over to the empty table where the newbie had ensconced himself.
“Hey,” he said, setting his backpack down on the seat. “Do you mind if I sit here?”
He looked up at Travis, bright blue eyes inquisitive but wary. “I will leave. I am not as hungry as I thought I was.” The kid started to rise, and Travis felt like crap suddenly.
“No, sit, please,” he said, motioning downwards with one hand. “I didn’t mean you had to leave. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t opposed to company.”
“Okay,” he said, slowly lowering himself back onto the bench across from Travis.
The guy was an enigma, it seemed. Travis was pretty sure they had one class together, but he never spoke up in class. If asked a question, he’d answer, but it was always short and to the point. But damn if he wasn’t attractive as hell. All that dark skin and those blue ass eyes. His accent was just icing on an already perfectly tasty cake.
“I’m Travis, by the way,” he said, holding out his hand. “Travis Murphy.”
Blue Eyes looked at Travis’ outstretched hand for a minute before giving it a shake. “Andrej,” he replied. “Andrej Zeklos.”
“Where are you from, Andrej” Travis asked, dragging his lunch out of the depths of his backpack. “I’ve never heard an accent quite like yours before.”
Andrej made a face that was halfway between annoyance and reluctance. “Romania,” he finally said. “Before you ask, no, I am not a vampire either.”
Travis snorted out a laugh. “Who on earth asked if you were a vampire?”
“I do not know his name,” Andrej said, and Travis had the faintest impression that Andrej wasn’t exactly being honest there, but he let it go. “He is the tall, h- uh, arrogant one in the cowboy boots.”
Andrej flicked his gaze towards the far side of the cafeteria. Understanding flooded Travis when he realized Andrej meant Zayne Reyes. Of course, that dumbass would have asked such an idiotic question. The boy was all pretty and no brains it seemed.
“That’s Zayne,” Travis said, shaking his head. “Ignore him and anything he says. He’s not a bad guy, but he’s pretty full of himself. If you can get past his cowboy swagger and get to know him, he’s half decent. But if you can’t? He’ll just drive you nuts.”
“Thank you for the warning,” Andrej said, looking down at his lunch again.
“What’s the matter,” Travis sked. “Not feeling whatever your parents packed?”
He shook his head. “No, it is one of my favorite meals,” he said. “I just feel odd eating it here where everyone else is eating things more…” He shrugged. “Normal.”
“You mean ‘American’,” Travis clarified. “I get it. My mama packs me the weirdest shit sometimes because it’s exactly what she took to school when she was younger.”
“What kind of things,” Andrej asked, his curiosity plain and rather refreshing as far as Travis was concerned.
“Rice and beans with cheese,” he said, opening the container he’d found in his lunch pack. “Oh, and you can’t forget the tortillas. Homemade, of course.” He rolled his eyes. Travis’ mother wasn’t one to buy a store bought anything if she could help it.
Travis could see the relief as it made its way across Andrej’s face. It made him wonder how badly he’d been teased about whatever was in his lunch.
“Where is your mother from,” he asked, quietly.
“Mexico,” Travis said, smiling. It didn’t matter to him what others said or thought, he was proud of his very mixed-up heritage. “And my father is from Dublin.”
“Ireland?” Andrej’s eyes were wide. “I’ve always wanted to visit there someday.”
“My pops says it’s a beautiful country,” Travis told him proudly. “I think he misses it sometimes.”
“I can understand that,” Andrej said, nodding. “I miss my home sometimes, too. Things are supposed to be better here, but I am not sure yet.”
“How long have you been in the country?” Travis scooped some beans and rice onto his fork and stuffed it into his mouth.
“About four months,” he said. Another glance down at his food, but this time, he picked up his fork. “I am not sure I am very comfortable here yet.”
“It’ll take time. I’ve never moved to a new country, but changing schools and shit is tough, too. So, I sort of get it.” He watched Andrej scoop some kind of yellow meal onto his spoon. “What are you eating? It sort of looks like what my mama uses to make corn tortillas.”
Andrej’s eyes lost focus for a second before sharpening again. “I am thinking it might be similar. This is mămăligă and is made from cornmeal.” He looked up, ashamed for a moment, before pushing it aside. “Very traditional at home and inexpensive.”
“Because rice and beans are any different,” Travis said with a laugh. “Can I try it?”
Those blue eyes fixed on him for a long minute before Andrej nodded. He pointed at things on top one at a time. “This is sour cream, and this is feta. Get a bit of both for the best bite.”
Reaching across the table, Travis grabbed a bit of Andrej’s lunch. “That’s really good,” he said. Bet it’s great on a cold day, too.”
“It is,” Andrej agreed. “Or any other time, in my opinion.”
They fell into a companionable silence as they ate, Travis occasionally stealing another bite of Andrej’s lunch when he could manage it. When the bell signaling the end of lunch sounded, Travis groaned and started stuffing containers back into his lunch pack.
“Thank you,” Andrej said, looking sheepish. “For sharing lunch with me.”
Grinning, Travis said, “Thanks for literally sharing your lunch with me. Tomorrow, I’ll make sure mama packs something I can share with you.”
“You do not have to have lunch with me again,” he said, waving it away as if he was used to eating alone. Who knew, maybe he was.
“I didn’t have to today, either, but you looked so lost that I was compelled to come over.” He smiled. “I’m glad I did, too. Where are you headed next?”
Andrej looked down at where he had his schedule written neatly on the front of a notebook. “Math. Mr. Ellis.”
“Ah-hah, I thought we had a class together,” Travis crowed. “Come on, let’s go together.”
For some stupid reason, their math teacher had assigned seating. It never made sense to Zayne because kids were going to do what they wanted to do. And right now, he wanted to sit next to his next soon-to-be ex-girlfriend.
“That’s not your seat,” Hilary Maxwell said. She flipped her long, dark hair back over her shoulder as she eyed him.
“Aw, come on, cut a guy some slack,” he said, giving her his best smile.
“Out of my way, jerk,” Hilary’s redheaded best friend said, jabbing at his shoulder. “You’re in my chair.”
“Finnnne,” he whined. Zayne slid out of Trish’s spot and made his way over to where he’d gotten stuck. “Why do I have to sit over here with the weirdos?”
“If you’d gotten to class on time,” Travis said, unaffected by Zayne’s loudness, “you could have had your choice of spots.”
“No one asked you, Murphy,” Zayne shot back.
“You literally just asked the entire class,” Travis pointed out with a laugh.
“I really don’t like you right now.”
Travis shrugged. “Don’t care. I made other friends.” He smiled at Andrej who gave a timid smile back.
Zayne looked from Travis to the new kid and laughed. “Why am I not surprised that the wannabe writer is now friends with the kid from vampireland?”
“He’s not a vampire, for the love of god, Reyes.”
Zayne looked up at the newcomer and flipped him off. “Stuff it, McDowell, no one asked you.”
Ethan shrugged and took his seat in front of Zayne. “Just making sure,” he said, dragging his textbook out of his bag. “I mean, he’s got this lovely golden-brown skin, which isn’t usually indicative of being a creature of the night.”
“Always gotta be the smartest one in the room,” Zayne spat out.
“Not hard when you’re in the room,” Ethan tossed back.
“Don’t make me wreck that pretty face of yours,” Zayne warned.
“Aw, he thinks I’m pretty,” Ethan teased, then flinched when he saw Zayne’s green eyes light with fire.
“Okay, you two,” Trish said, stepping in before any punches could be thrown. “Just cool it, okay? You,” she said, pointing at Zayne, “hit him, he’s going to hit you back.”
“And then Travis is going to get into the mix because you popped his crush, and we can’t have Travis getting into a fight. His mother would flip,” Hilary added.
“And what about you,” Zayne asked, fully focused on Hilary. “Would you defend me?”
“Not on your life,” Trish said, giving Zayne a push backwards with one hand. “She’s got better taste than to defend you.”
“Oh really? And what kind of taste does she have,” Zayne challenged.
Trish pressed her lips together, remaining mute.
“Him,” Hilary said, hooking a thumb in Andrej’s direction. “He’s my type of guy. Smart, handsome, and quiet unless he has something worthwhile to say. You could learn a lot from him.”
“Yeah, okay, whatever,” Zayne said, shaking his head. “Nerd alert.”
“Why are you always such an asshole,” Adrien asked, taking the seat on Zayne’s open side. “What has this poor guy done to you? He’s been in this school like two weeks.”
“He’s been here since the start of the semester, Aid,” Travis pointed out. “That’s been almost three months.”
Adrien leaned around Zayne and caught Andrej’s gaze. “Sorry. I’m not always good with time.”
Andrej smiled at him. “It is okay. I try to remain – how is it? Inconspicuous.”
“That would be the word,” Travis said, winking at Andrej.
“Okay,” their teacher said, coming to the front of the room. “That’s the bell. And no, Zayne, that does not mean that round one is about to start either.”
“You’re no fun, Mr. Ellis,” Zayne joked back.
“That’s my job, Zayne,” Ellis replied. “Now, can we get on with today’s lesson?”
Andrej hung back while everyone else made for the classroom’s exit. He wasn’t sure about anything that had happened at the beginning of class and by letting all the perpetrators involved leave before him sounded like his best bet. Travis gave him a pat on the shoulder as he passed by, saying he’d see him tomorrow at lunch. Nodding, Andrej made a mental note to try and hide in plain sight tomorrow. He liked Travis but wasn’t sure how much of that was reciprocated quite yet.
He leaned down to grab an errant pencil that had fallen onto the floor when he heard that sexy, sexy drawl. “If you aren’t a vampire, why do you sound like one?”
Lifting his eyes, he was struck by how handsome this arrogant prick of a kid was. Thick, dark, wavy hair, bright green eyes, delectable lips, it was enough to inspire daydreams in women and men. Unfortunately, his attitude kept Andrej from telling him any of this. Fear of being outed as well as teased kept him silent in Zayne’s presence. Even if desire was eating him up inside.
“I am not sure what you mean.”
“The accent. Wasn’t that dude who played Dracula from Romania?”
Andrej made a face. “No, none of them were.”
“None of them?”
“None of which I am aware.” He narrowed his eyes. “However, the one to which you are most likely referring came close. Bela Lugosi was Hungarian.”
Andrej refrained from mentioning that the second largest ethnic group in Romania was Hungarian. Partly because he didn’t think Zayne would care, but more because he didn’t want to reinforce the ‘nerd’ label he’d been slapped with earlier. His blood contained two of the three largest ethnicities in the country – Romanian and Romani – but he wasn’t telling anyone that. Americans were a bit weird about his heritage he’d discovered.
“Huh,” Zayne said, lifting his backpack up onto a shoulder. “I had no idea. See ya in English next.”
Andrej stood by his desk in stunned silence. Zayne had noticed they had a class together. His heart skipped a beat at the thought. And then he remembered how hard Zayne had been working to get Hilary’s attention and his hopes fell. This was going to be his toughest year yet, he thought.
Trish caught his eye and gave him a subtle thumbs up. Why, he wasn’t sure, but it made him smile despite it all. He’d get through this, even if that swaggering asshole dragged his heart through the mud first.
Fandom: Romani Detective/White Pine/Preying Eyes Original Fiction High School AU Crossover Mashup WTF were you thinking menina?
Pairings: All TF over the place.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,183
Summary: Travis feels bad for the new kid and decides to share their lunch hour with him.
Author’s Note: Written for the crossover challenge at 1_million_words. My first thought was to write another installment in the strip club AU that I started a few years ago (and since I only seem to add to it once every two years, now would be a good time), but I decided on this instead. The strip club AU might still be forthcoming though. You were warned.
The new kid sat quietly at the edge of the cafeteria, staring at his lunch as if it was an alien life form. He looked more than a little lost and alone. Travis looked around the lunchroom of their small school and sighed. None of his other friends were around so he bit the bullet and headed over to the empty table where the newbie had ensconced himself.
“Hey,” he said, setting his backpack down on the seat. “Do you mind if I sit here?”
He looked up at Travis, bright blue eyes inquisitive but wary. “I will leave. I am not as hungry as I thought I was.” The kid started to rise, and Travis felt like crap suddenly.
“No, sit, please,” he said, motioning downwards with one hand. “I didn’t mean you had to leave. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t opposed to company.”
“Okay,” he said, slowly lowering himself back onto the bench across from Travis.
The guy was an enigma, it seemed. Travis was pretty sure they had one class together, but he never spoke up in class. If asked a question, he’d answer, but it was always short and to the point. But damn if he wasn’t attractive as hell. All that dark skin and those blue ass eyes. His accent was just icing on an already perfectly tasty cake.
“I’m Travis, by the way,” he said, holding out his hand. “Travis Murphy.”
Blue Eyes looked at Travis’ outstretched hand for a minute before giving it a shake. “Andrej,” he replied. “Andrej Zeklos.”
“Where are you from, Andrej” Travis asked, dragging his lunch out of the depths of his backpack. “I’ve never heard an accent quite like yours before.”
Andrej made a face that was halfway between annoyance and reluctance. “Romania,” he finally said. “Before you ask, no, I am not a vampire either.”
Travis snorted out a laugh. “Who on earth asked if you were a vampire?”
“I do not know his name,” Andrej said, and Travis had the faintest impression that Andrej wasn’t exactly being honest there, but he let it go. “He is the tall, h- uh, arrogant one in the cowboy boots.”
Andrej flicked his gaze towards the far side of the cafeteria. Understanding flooded Travis when he realized Andrej meant Zayne Reyes. Of course, that dumbass would have asked such an idiotic question. The boy was all pretty and no brains it seemed.
“That’s Zayne,” Travis said, shaking his head. “Ignore him and anything he says. He’s not a bad guy, but he’s pretty full of himself. If you can get past his cowboy swagger and get to know him, he’s half decent. But if you can’t? He’ll just drive you nuts.”
“Thank you for the warning,” Andrej said, looking down at his lunch again.
“What’s the matter,” Travis sked. “Not feeling whatever your parents packed?”
He shook his head. “No, it is one of my favorite meals,” he said. “I just feel odd eating it here where everyone else is eating things more…” He shrugged. “Normal.”
“You mean ‘American’,” Travis clarified. “I get it. My mama packs me the weirdest shit sometimes because it’s exactly what she took to school when she was younger.”
“What kind of things,” Andrej asked, his curiosity plain and rather refreshing as far as Travis was concerned.
“Rice and beans with cheese,” he said, opening the container he’d found in his lunch pack. “Oh, and you can’t forget the tortillas. Homemade, of course.” He rolled his eyes. Travis’ mother wasn’t one to buy a store bought anything if she could help it.
Travis could see the relief as it made its way across Andrej’s face. It made him wonder how badly he’d been teased about whatever was in his lunch.
“Where is your mother from,” he asked, quietly.
“Mexico,” Travis said, smiling. It didn’t matter to him what others said or thought, he was proud of his very mixed-up heritage. “And my father is from Dublin.”
“Ireland?” Andrej’s eyes were wide. “I’ve always wanted to visit there someday.”
“My pops says it’s a beautiful country,” Travis told him proudly. “I think he misses it sometimes.”
“I can understand that,” Andrej said, nodding. “I miss my home sometimes, too. Things are supposed to be better here, but I am not sure yet.”
“How long have you been in the country?” Travis scooped some beans and rice onto his fork and stuffed it into his mouth.
“About four months,” he said. Another glance down at his food, but this time, he picked up his fork. “I am not sure I am very comfortable here yet.”
“It’ll take time. I’ve never moved to a new country, but changing schools and shit is tough, too. So, I sort of get it.” He watched Andrej scoop some kind of yellow meal onto his spoon. “What are you eating? It sort of looks like what my mama uses to make corn tortillas.”
Andrej’s eyes lost focus for a second before sharpening again. “I am thinking it might be similar. This is mămăligă and is made from cornmeal.” He looked up, ashamed for a moment, before pushing it aside. “Very traditional at home and inexpensive.”
“Because rice and beans are any different,” Travis said with a laugh. “Can I try it?”
Those blue eyes fixed on him for a long minute before Andrej nodded. He pointed at things on top one at a time. “This is sour cream, and this is feta. Get a bit of both for the best bite.”
Reaching across the table, Travis grabbed a bit of Andrej’s lunch. “That’s really good,” he said. Bet it’s great on a cold day, too.”
“It is,” Andrej agreed. “Or any other time, in my opinion.”
They fell into a companionable silence as they ate, Travis occasionally stealing another bite of Andrej’s lunch when he could manage it. When the bell signaling the end of lunch sounded, Travis groaned and started stuffing containers back into his lunch pack.
“Thank you,” Andrej said, looking sheepish. “For sharing lunch with me.”
Grinning, Travis said, “Thanks for literally sharing your lunch with me. Tomorrow, I’ll make sure mama packs something I can share with you.”
“You do not have to have lunch with me again,” he said, waving it away as if he was used to eating alone. Who knew, maybe he was.
“I didn’t have to today, either, but you looked so lost that I was compelled to come over.” He smiled. “I’m glad I did, too. Where are you headed next?”
Andrej looked down at where he had his schedule written neatly on the front of a notebook. “Math. Mr. Ellis.”
“Ah-hah, I thought we had a class together,” Travis crowed. “Come on, let’s go together.”
For some stupid reason, their math teacher had assigned seating. It never made sense to Zayne because kids were going to do what they wanted to do. And right now, he wanted to sit next to his next soon-to-be ex-girlfriend.
“That’s not your seat,” Hilary Maxwell said. She flipped her long, dark hair back over her shoulder as she eyed him.
“Aw, come on, cut a guy some slack,” he said, giving her his best smile.
“Out of my way, jerk,” Hilary’s redheaded best friend said, jabbing at his shoulder. “You’re in my chair.”
“Finnnne,” he whined. Zayne slid out of Trish’s spot and made his way over to where he’d gotten stuck. “Why do I have to sit over here with the weirdos?”
“If you’d gotten to class on time,” Travis said, unaffected by Zayne’s loudness, “you could have had your choice of spots.”
“No one asked you, Murphy,” Zayne shot back.
“You literally just asked the entire class,” Travis pointed out with a laugh.
“I really don’t like you right now.”
Travis shrugged. “Don’t care. I made other friends.” He smiled at Andrej who gave a timid smile back.
Zayne looked from Travis to the new kid and laughed. “Why am I not surprised that the wannabe writer is now friends with the kid from vampireland?”
“He’s not a vampire, for the love of god, Reyes.”
Zayne looked up at the newcomer and flipped him off. “Stuff it, McDowell, no one asked you.”
Ethan shrugged and took his seat in front of Zayne. “Just making sure,” he said, dragging his textbook out of his bag. “I mean, he’s got this lovely golden-brown skin, which isn’t usually indicative of being a creature of the night.”
“Always gotta be the smartest one in the room,” Zayne spat out.
“Not hard when you’re in the room,” Ethan tossed back.
“Don’t make me wreck that pretty face of yours,” Zayne warned.
“Aw, he thinks I’m pretty,” Ethan teased, then flinched when he saw Zayne’s green eyes light with fire.
“Okay, you two,” Trish said, stepping in before any punches could be thrown. “Just cool it, okay? You,” she said, pointing at Zayne, “hit him, he’s going to hit you back.”
“And then Travis is going to get into the mix because you popped his crush, and we can’t have Travis getting into a fight. His mother would flip,” Hilary added.
“And what about you,” Zayne asked, fully focused on Hilary. “Would you defend me?”
“Not on your life,” Trish said, giving Zayne a push backwards with one hand. “She’s got better taste than to defend you.”
“Oh really? And what kind of taste does she have,” Zayne challenged.
Trish pressed her lips together, remaining mute.
“Him,” Hilary said, hooking a thumb in Andrej’s direction. “He’s my type of guy. Smart, handsome, and quiet unless he has something worthwhile to say. You could learn a lot from him.”
“Yeah, okay, whatever,” Zayne said, shaking his head. “Nerd alert.”
“Why are you always such an asshole,” Adrien asked, taking the seat on Zayne’s open side. “What has this poor guy done to you? He’s been in this school like two weeks.”
“He’s been here since the start of the semester, Aid,” Travis pointed out. “That’s been almost three months.”
Adrien leaned around Zayne and caught Andrej’s gaze. “Sorry. I’m not always good with time.”
Andrej smiled at him. “It is okay. I try to remain – how is it? Inconspicuous.”
“That would be the word,” Travis said, winking at Andrej.
“Okay,” their teacher said, coming to the front of the room. “That’s the bell. And no, Zayne, that does not mean that round one is about to start either.”
“You’re no fun, Mr. Ellis,” Zayne joked back.
“That’s my job, Zayne,” Ellis replied. “Now, can we get on with today’s lesson?”
Andrej hung back while everyone else made for the classroom’s exit. He wasn’t sure about anything that had happened at the beginning of class and by letting all the perpetrators involved leave before him sounded like his best bet. Travis gave him a pat on the shoulder as he passed by, saying he’d see him tomorrow at lunch. Nodding, Andrej made a mental note to try and hide in plain sight tomorrow. He liked Travis but wasn’t sure how much of that was reciprocated quite yet.
He leaned down to grab an errant pencil that had fallen onto the floor when he heard that sexy, sexy drawl. “If you aren’t a vampire, why do you sound like one?”
Lifting his eyes, he was struck by how handsome this arrogant prick of a kid was. Thick, dark, wavy hair, bright green eyes, delectable lips, it was enough to inspire daydreams in women and men. Unfortunately, his attitude kept Andrej from telling him any of this. Fear of being outed as well as teased kept him silent in Zayne’s presence. Even if desire was eating him up inside.
“I am not sure what you mean.”
“The accent. Wasn’t that dude who played Dracula from Romania?”
Andrej made a face. “No, none of them were.”
“None of them?”
“None of which I am aware.” He narrowed his eyes. “However, the one to which you are most likely referring came close. Bela Lugosi was Hungarian.”
Andrej refrained from mentioning that the second largest ethnic group in Romania was Hungarian. Partly because he didn’t think Zayne would care, but more because he didn’t want to reinforce the ‘nerd’ label he’d been slapped with earlier. His blood contained two of the three largest ethnicities in the country – Romanian and Romani – but he wasn’t telling anyone that. Americans were a bit weird about his heritage he’d discovered.
“Huh,” Zayne said, lifting his backpack up onto a shoulder. “I had no idea. See ya in English next.”
Andrej stood by his desk in stunned silence. Zayne had noticed they had a class together. His heart skipped a beat at the thought. And then he remembered how hard Zayne had been working to get Hilary’s attention and his hopes fell. This was going to be his toughest year yet, he thought.
Trish caught his eye and gave him a subtle thumbs up. Why, he wasn’t sure, but it made him smile despite it all. He’d get through this, even if that swaggering asshole dragged his heart through the mud first.
