AN: Well, honestly a bit embarrassed. I just noticed that, in the last chapter, the teacher called Gazza "Galileo" instead of by his email address. An error on my part. Won't happen anymore though! …Hopefully… :P Anyway, still don't own WWRY!
I hadn't expected to hear the chair beside me move. Honestly, I had been so unprepared for the sound of the metal legs of the desk made when they scraped against the tile floor as a body lowered into the seat that I jumped ever so slightly. I could swear I heard the boy chuckle at that and I tensed visibly at that before turning to look at him. "Yes? Do you want something?"
"Y-you looked lonely," he replied, face the vision of innocence.
"Yeah?" I replied, rolling my eyes. "Busy's more like it."
He sat there in silence for a few moments in response, tapping his fingers against his desktop. "I just thought you would want to talk to me. We're different from the rest of them." He jerked his head toward the crowd of Ga Ga Kids behind him as he spoke, trying to accent his point as he gestured to their clothing before gesturing to our own as well.
"Right now I want to get my project done and not have it taken away. Y'know, so I can graduate." That shut him up. I glanced up for the briefest of moments, reaching for the screwdriver I'd abandoned, and noticed the sheepish look on his face. "You should probably get to work on something. Wouldn't want to be stuck here another year, would you?"
His cheeks were practically burning now. "I'm not sure what to make. "
"As if I couldn't tell that already,"I mumbled before clearing my throat. "Guess you'd better look through the text then."
He nodded, almost as if the thought hadn't occurred to him, and pulled out his laptop, slipping the USB into it and beginning to scroll through the text for the class. For several minutes silence stretched between us and I focused on my radio, tinkering with it carefully, trying to make small, precise adjustments to different bits and pieces.
"What's your name,then?" I asked, looking over at him.
"Galileo Figaro,"He replied, as if I hadn't heard the earlier misnomer.
"Your real name," I snapped back, giving him a serious look.
"You mean my email address?"
I couldn't help a sigh as I looked over at him. Why did he seem like the type that asked too many questions? "That's what you got when you were born, isn't it? Or are you some kind of special case?"
" ," he finally replied, looking as if the words burned rolling off of his tongue. "Yours?"
" ," was my dry response. I looked at him, watching as he made a face, and I could feel my eyes narrow. "What's that about then?" I challenged, gesturing to his expression.
"It's just… a bit… b-boring," he responded in what appeared to be his signature stutter.
"Oh?" I snorted a bitter laugh, glaring at him now. "Well, for your information, Galileo Figaro's a bit… well… crap."
He frowned, looking at me for silence in a moment as I turned my attention to my nearly finished radio once more, determined not to let this boy interrupt my schedule for completion. "W-well, what would yo-you call me, th-then?" He asked in a softer voice, placing a hand on my desk and clearly trying to gain my full attention once more.
I shrugged, keeping my eyes locked on my project as I gave myself the tiniest fraction of a second to think before blurting out the first thing to pop into my mind. "Gazza." I could see his expression change from the corner of my eyes; he didn't like the name. For some reason, that observation sent a sort of thrill through me and I grinned a bit. "So, Gazza, you should probably be picking a new project idea. "
He didn't say anything. Rather, he was silent for a few moments before saying, "If you're going to call me G-g-g-g-gazza, then I get to get to call you s-s-s-something else too!"
I placed my screw driver on my desk once more, looking at him and lifting an eyebrow. " You have a nickname for me already?"
"A f-f-few ideas, a-actually," he corrected me. "I've been thinking about it."
"You've been thinking about it?!" He gave an eager nod in response. "You've only just met me!"
"I knew I would though!" He paused, waiting for something. I wasn't really sure what. I had no idea what reaction he was expecting from me, so I just raised a hand, gesturing for him to continue. "I have these dreams you s-see!" I had to force myself not to groan at that. Dreams, one of my absolute least favorite things to talk about. "D-dreams about words- a-and sounds! W-words and sounds together! A-And sometimes th-there are p-people there too!" I just stared, truly speechless. "I'm m-m-mad, you see."
"Super," I replied, word drawn out and voice dripping with sarcasm which, based on his confused expression, he didn't get. "What is it you want to call me then?"
"Scaramouche!" For a moment I just stared at him, waiting to hear that it was a joke and he was ready to tell me his real idea though. He wasn't joking though. He was beaming, as if this was the greatest thing anyone had ever come up with.
"Well, like I s-said, there were some others-"
"What were they?"
"Long Tall Sally, " he began, looking me in the eyes as he continued to list these names of his, "Lucy in the sky with diamonds, or Fat bottomed girl." He was waiting for me to say something.
"…Yeah, I'll take Scaramouche," I replied as the bell rang. We both stood, packing our laptops and personal belongings into our backpacks before I took my project and supplies to the front to be locked away by the teacher.
"Thought so," he responded, leading me toward the door. "Well, Scaramouche, see you at lunch?" He asked, pausing to look at me. " I-I mean, provided your friends won't mind."
I couldn't help but to look at him like he was crazy. "I've never had any friends."
I watched a look of annoyance cross his face. Apparently he'd meant it as some sort of a compliment that only he'd understood. "You amaze me…"
"Always thought I might like one though…" I was surprised at how honest I was being now, at the way I admitted to being tired of being alone. A smile spread across his face in response.
"R-Really?!" The smile grew into a stupid grin as I nodded and he let out a light laugh. "This is so great!"
" Yeah. Cool. We're friendssss."
He ignored my sarcasm once more, turning to head to his next class and calling over his shoulder to me. " See you at lunch, Scaramouche!"
" Yeah," I replied, unaware of the fact that I was standing in the middle of the corridor, blocking the flow of traffic and being constantly being jostled by annoyed Ga Ga Kids as I watched him walk away. "Later, Gazza…"