fandomhigh | Living on the Outskirts, Friday, Period 2

When the students made their way to the classroom for Jonothon's first ever class on the island (and really, what the hell had he been thinking when he had decided he could do this?!) they'd see that the setup for the room was a little on the informal side. Jono had given up on desks, having decided that they were anathema in a class that was supposed to be about making antisocial teens just get over themselves and socialize, already. In their place, sofas. Loveseats. A few bean-bag chairs if people so desired.

And a requisite shadowy corner. Big enough for one. Because he was a brat and wanted to see if any of his students would give one another dirty looks over it. He liked to think he knew their type, for some reason or other.

"Congratulations. If you're here, you've either decided that you're sick of standing in the shadowy corners, or else whoever it is that wrote your schedule for you has decided that you need to get the hell out of them. If it's the former, I hope I don't disappoint. If it's the latter, then I hope you don't disappoint. If you haven't noticed by now just by looking at me, yes, I do have some passing experience with not quite fitting in among my peers." Understatement was fun and educational! "My name is Jonothon Starsmore. You may call me Professor Starsmore if you wish, though I'll likely give you a strange look for it. Jono is just fine, informal though it might be. Everyone else calls me that, you might as well too."

Why mess with something if it worked, right?

"An entire week of classes is nearly out of the way, and I'm certain you're all sick and bloody tired of introductions, but there are half a million of you in here, and I'm going to need to know what to call you if you want to get an attendance mark and pass this course." This course on playing nice with others, yes. "So. Names. Year, if you feel so inclined. And a little something about what it is I'm to be working with, here. Tell me what it is that you feel puts you on the outskirts. Why you feel as though you'll never quite fit in, or what makes your life harder than everyone else's. You're most likely all teenagers. There's a good start. I haven't met a teenager yet who doesn't feel at least slightly as though their life is a ball of misery and darkness so bleak that the sun might never shine through the despair that simply waking from day to day brings them. I know how it works. I used to be a teen, myself. And what you share with the class doesn't have to be anything utterly horrible. If your biggest complaint is that you have to sit here and listen to a large grey British man lecture you about what it's like to be a teen, then that will do just fine."

His grin took on a slightly playful twist to it, perhaps a little in spite of himself.

"And then I want you to talk with your classmates, the people who have just introduced themselves to you, and give them one bright side. Even if that bright side is just that they woke up this morning with all of their body parts still attached.

"Oh, and..." Jono glanced at his class roster. "Surreal and Cade. Congratulations. You have been selected at random for the right to complain that you've just been drafted into a semester of extra responsibility as my TAs. If it's any consolation, that means you get to sit in the recliners near the back of the room, today."

Lucky them.

[Open!]

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::Who?:: Sholeh asked again, eyes sliding right over Toby, who was clearly looking over the excellent selection of danishes.

=The hinky-looking one,= Zeela said with a sniff. =Nobody eats the apple ones, Sholeh. Honestly.=

*He's not all that hinky-looking,* Zhahar decided. *He looks...*

=Hinky.= Zeela said decisively. =He's been watching Sholeh. I don't like it.=

::Maybe I should go talk to him? He's probably just looking around. Not at me specifically.::

Sholeh got up and 'casually' wandered over to the table of treats. "Those apple danishes look good," she said.

=I'm telling you, Sholeh, no one ever eats the danishes.=

Toby's hand drew back from the table sharply, like he'd just touched the surface of a hot stove.

"Nobody actually ever eats them, though," he commented.

"I do," Sholeh said stoutly, grabbing for a danish and biting into it.

=It doesn't count if you do it for a dare.=

::You're just making things up!::

*Stop arguing the both of you! Sholeh, find out if he's been watching you like Zeela said.*

::Fine.:: Sholeh swallowed her bite and asked, "Have you been watching me?"

"...No?" Toby tried.

Except he was still giving her a vaguely baffled look because why were there so many voices when she was obviously just one person?

=Yeah, cause that sounded convincing.= If Zeela had control of the eyes right now, they'd be rolling SO HARD right now.

"Umm, are you sure?" Sholeh asked. "It kinda seemed like you were."

*Honey, you could try to be a little more firm than that,* Zhahar told her.

Toby sighed, because clearly the jig was up. His gaze darted around the room, making sure none of their classmates could overhear, before he spoke: "Um. So here's the thing. I'm- kind of a telepath?"

Kind of? How was someone 'kind of' a telepath?

"Okay...?" Sholeh said with a nod, clearly not getting what that was.

... Well that was new. Usually people at least were familiar with the concept, even if it was just a fictional one where they were from. "I can hear thoughts?" he tried again.

No such thing in Sholeh's landscape, sorry Toby!

"Like...the voices in your head?" Sholeh wasn't entirely sure why he was telling her this. "Umm, they're good thoughts, right? Nice, happy thoughts?"

She still wasn't picking up what he was putting down. But she was kind of stepping back a pace or two.

"Nooot exactly," Toby drawled out. "Other people's thoughts. Like yours, for example. Yours and- the other people in your head?" the last was said a bit questioningly, as he didn't quite understand what was going on there.

Sholeh, being a red-head, was naturally predisposed to paleness. Hearing that, however, caused her to gasp and go nearly white. "I don't know what you're talking about!" she said. Super-convincingly.

::He can hear you?::

=He can hear us?=

=He can hear us!=

There was a lot of panic confusion going on in Sholeh's head right now. Sorry for that, Toby.

Toby nodded. "I can hear them," he said quietly, deliberately echoing their statements.

"I don't know what you mean," Sholeh repeated weakly, clutching the table with knuckles turned white.

*What are we going to do?* Zhahar yelped.

::Shh! Stay quiet! Maybe he'll think it was a mistake!::

=He just heard you say that!=

::At least I'm trying to be useful!::

*Ask him what he's going to do!*

"Please don't tell?" That one was out loud.

"It wasn't a mistake," Toby confirmed. "And- I won't tell if you won't?" he offered.

*We can't trust him.* Zhahar's voice was implacable.

"Please don't!" Sholeh squeaked. "I don't want to have to go home!"

=Right. Because that's the most we have to worry about. Having to go home. And not a howling mob of one-faces coming after us.=

"I just got a job at the library and I'm learning lots of things and our mothers will be so disappointed if we come home and Tryadnea is still in danger and--"

=Sholeh!= her sisters hissed. =Stop talking!=

Okay that... hadn't worked as well as he'd hoped.

"I wouldn't," he admitted, his tone apologetic. He hadn't meant to worry her by implying that he would tell. "I just meant- please don't tell anyone about what I can do? I'm not really fond of mobs myself."

Well, that stopped the panicked freaking out a bit, yes.

"Ohhhh," Sholeh said, nodding and looking very relieved. "What you can do--it's a secret, too?" That put things in a different light entirely! They weren't trusting him not to tell on her, they were trusting him not to tell his own secret! That made so much more sense!

Didn't exactly make her feel safer at Fandom, but there wasn't a whole lot that could right now.

*If he did tell someone, you could just deny it anyway,* Zhahar said pragmatically, unaware of just how many telepaths there were on the island. *And let him explain it.*

=True,= Zeela agreed. =Hey! One-face! Can you hear me?=

"You keep saying that," Toby replied. "'One face'. What do you mean?"

... He really, really hoped none of their classmates decided to eavesdrop on this conversation, as it probably sounded bizarre.

=Shut up is what it means,= Zeela said, because she didn't want to get into it. And also because shut up. =I just want to make it perfectly clear. If you do ever mention us to anyone, you'll never see me coming.=

::Aren't we more worried about him hearing us?:: Sholeh asked.

There was a long moment of silence. Then, in a tight, frustrated voice, Zeela said, =Thanks, Sholeh. That was really helpful.=

"I- okay," Toby said quietly. "I'll just. Yeah." He dropped his gaze again, feeling a million kinds of stupid for being so fucking obvious, for not being a better liar, for being a goddamn stupid brainfreak in the first place.

All of which happened to also be the reasons he was in this stupid class to begin with.

Living on the Outskirts, Friday, Period 2

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