Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Precious days...

The office smelled like dust and decay and mildew; a generic institutional space with beige-painted cinderblock walls, fluorescent lighting, and posters about vague upward educational mobility or class registration - ‘Class Registration For Fall Semester Ends August 12th!’ Griff stood behind the chair across from the counselor's desk and tried not to look as much like he wanted to be anywhere else. Though that wouldn’t be a very honest look.

Ms. Davis, East Piedmont Community College - nameplate on the desk, older woman, late forties maybe - greeted him with practiced warmth. "Griffin Holloway? Good to meet you. Thanks for coming in. Please, have a seat."

He mustered a “hey, yeah, thanks” before sitting in the struggling wood chair on the opposite side of the desk. He was tired. Hadn't slept great. His own fault, mostly, a result of late nights spent on strategy games or refreshing forums or chats. He’d shown up in the same clothes he'd worn yesterday; his favorite emerald-green hoodie and a pair of jeans, severely beaten chucks, and hair that needed taming.

He just wanted to get this over with.

Ms. Davis didn't seem fazed. She probably saw kids like him all the time. Dropouts, burnouts, last-chancers trying to salvage their fates. Though surely self-starters and the like, too.

She opened a folder. "So, we're going to go over your transcripts today, figure out where to place you for classes. Sound good?"

"Sure."

She pulled out papers, spread them across the desk. His entire academic history laid bare. “I know you’ve already selected a few classes, but we just need to make sure you’ve hit all the marks to take them. Let’s see…” 

Freshman year of high school: honors classes, mostly As and a couple Bs. Participation in school orchestra both years - second chair cello by partway through sophomore, which apparently was pretty good for his class, based on a note from the orchestra’s director. A couple clubs. Debate team around the same time for like three months before he stopped attending… 

Then, from that point on, the drop-off. Halfway through sophomore year, grades sliding. Bs became Cs became Ds. Attendance getting a bit spotty. A drop out of orchestra around halfway through the year, to the apparent dismay and surprise of the director. By the end of sophomore year: barely passing. Barely doing anything at all.

Then nothing. Just a notation: Withdrawn.

Dropout.

Ms. Davis skimmed through it without comment. If she had judgments she kept them off her face. She'd probably seen worse. "Alright. I think you’ve got a good foundation as far as your transcripts go.”

“...cool.”

“Now, you took the placement test two weeks ago," she said, pulling out another document. "Not everyone passes that, but clearly you did if you’re here. What it does is determine if you've got the skills for introductory community college level coursework to substitute for your high school requirements, and at what level, and to be able to go from there and succeed in harder classes later."

He remembered the test. Multiple choice mostly. Reading comprehension, basic math, some shorter portions on science and liberal arts, and a free-response essay portion at the end. He'd shown up half-awake, filled in bubbles, and wrote something about the history and structure of aircraft carriers for the essay because why not.

Ms. Davis looked at the score sheet. An eyebrow went up.

"You scored..." She paused, double-checking the numbers. "Top two percent in reading comprehension and writing. Top one percent in social sciences. Top five percent in the other subject areas."

Griff said nothing.

She looked at him. Really looked at him. "Griffin, these are really good scores, exceptional scores. It looks like you took the follow-up civics assessment and placed out of that requirement entirely. You don't have to take government or economics at all."

Silence.

She set the paper down, looking between him and the papers. "I'm looking at your transcript and I'm looking at these scores and I really don't see why you dropped out. You're clearly very bright. Gifted even."

He barely managed a forced smile. “...thanks.” The implied question of ‘why?’ seemed obvious. He had no intention of answering, instead staring at a spot on her desk. Some dark stain in the laminate finish instead of her face.

The silence stretched for a couple of seconds.

Ms. Davis seemed to accept he wasn't going to elaborate. "Okay, well, let’s move on to the registration portion…” More shuffling of papers.

"Point is," she continued, "if you play your cards right you could come out of this program with more than just a diploma. You could get an associate's degree too. Most students transfer to a four-year after. With scores like these you could probably get into a really good university still. But it's going to require some motivation on your part, some real hard work. You interested in doing that?"

Griff still said nothing. It felt like she was overstepping her bounds a little bit. He wasn’t committing to anything now, maybe not ever, beyond what needed doing.

Ms. Davis waited a beat, then moved on. Apparently used to unresponsive teenagers.

"Well, for now, let's go over your course schedule for fall semester." She pulled out a printed schedule, ran her finger down the list. "Some of these are required. Some are electives based on the preferences you indicated on your application. Thanks to those placement scores, all should count towards a degree if you so decide..."

Griff didn't remember indicating any preferences. He'd probably just checked random boxes to finish the form when he’d been convinced by his parents to sign up back in early June. 

"Precalculus One," Ms. Davis read. "That's based on your last completed math course. I see you took it sophomore year and... didn't pass. So, uh, we're starting there again. English Composition is also required, but it’s just basic college-level writing, so you'll probably do fine based on your test scores." She kept reading. "Physical Education - that’s online now actually, just fitness logs and some discussion posts. Oh, wait, you already did that… ahh, we’ll get you taken off of that…” She marks through it with a red pen. “So, no civics requirement like I mentioned…”

Griff was only half-listening, nodding when it seemed appropriate.

"Then your electives. You indicated interest in history and social sciences?"

Had he? Maybe. Sounded right.

"Since you didn’t pick any specifically the system should’ve assigned a couple. Looks like… Introduction to Psychology, okay. Tuesdays and Thursdays." She scanned down. "And, let's see - Monsters in World History. That’s on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays again."

Griff looked up, for once, though Ms. Davis didn't seem to register his sudden attention. She was already moving onto the next thing. "That's a pretty full schedule. Twelve credits. Should keep you busy, though you’ll only have one class on Tuesdays and Thursdays."

Monsters in World History. That one actually sounded... not terrible? Well, maybe, depending on…

"Is that-" He cleared his throat, voice coming out rougher than intended from not using it much. "Is that class about like, actual history? Or is it one of those diversity requirement things? I think I read something about those."

Ms. Davis looked up, hearing the first time he'd voluntarily spoken beyond one-word responses. "It’s a class in the history department, not one of the diversity requirement modules. I think it’s Professor Yates who teaches it. He’s a former military guy, really knows his stuff. Looking at the course description here, let’s see… it covers monster-human relations from ancient civilizations through modern day. It's a full class actually, I’m surprised you got assigned to it."

"Oh. Cool."

"You interested in that subject?"

"I guess, yeah."

"Good to hear." She shuffled the papers back into his folder. "That's most of it. Just need you to sign some forms, then you're all set."

She slid a small stack of documents across the desk. Griff skimmed them without really reading. Enrollment agreement, financial aid acknowledgment, code of conduct. He signed where indicated. His signature looked like shit, a hasty scrawl that barely resembled his name.

"So, uh, what's this gonna cost?" he asked, handing the papers back.

"Oh? I thought you’d already know. This program specifically costs nothing, county pays for it. Books are on you though. Most professors put copies on reserve in the library if you can't afford to buy them."

He could ‘afford’ them. Well, not legally.

"That's it?"

"That's it." She filed the papers, closed his folder. "Welcome to the program, Griffin. Your first class is-" she checked the schedule "that history class you seemed interested in, actually. Monday morning, nine-thirty, Building C room 214."

He nodded, stood up, grabbed his backpack.

"Good luck," Ms. Davis said. "And Griffin? For what it's worth, I think you could do really well here. If you let yourself."

"Thanks."

He walked out. The hallway was empty. Summer session was over, fall semester hadn't started yet. Just him and the hum of fluorescent lights.

Monday morning, first class. Monsters in World History. Maybe this time would be different. Probably not. But maybe.

Griff pushed through the double doors into the parking lot. His dad's Folkswagon was idling in the pickup lane.

Enough for today.

Another hot August afternoon.

She bent over, hands on her knees, panting heavily after her tenth 400-meter sprint. She tugged down her shorts to free up her tail and pulled her tank-top down a little, reading “CEDAR GROVE LIGHTNINGBOLTS” on the front and “RUBY CEDAR, 07” on the back. Around her, other members of the track team were doing the same, some sweating through their shirts, fur or scales or whatever else matted and damp. At least they could sweat properly. Her body barely did that at all. Reindeer physiology was NOT designed for southern summers.

She hated this. Hated it so much.

Why on Earth would reindeer monsters live this far south? Where it got this hot? Humid? Where even September felt like walking through hot soup? It felt cruel, intentionally cruel. Her summer coat was never light enough, it just kept all the heat trapped in her own fur.

Soccer in the fall, track and field in the spring. The worst were the few weeks at the start of soccer season when the heat and humidity reached its peak before the fall rolled in, as well as a few weeks during track and field season when temperatures were climbing and she’d shed neither her winter coat nor her antlers. 

But the heat wasn't even the worst part right now.

Coach Hendriks - a bull monster, naturally athletic and comfortable in any temperature - was going over their times. "Good work today, people. Ruby, excellent pace on those last three. Alen, you're getting faster but watch your form on the turns. Jessi-"

Ruby wasn't listening. She could feel it. That cold stare boring into the back of her head.

Forrest Burr.

She didn't need to turn around to know he was watching. She'd felt his eyes on her for a few months now, ever since the ‘breakup’ - if you could call it that when they'd never actually dated, just been shoved together by their families for hardly one excruciating week before Ruby had finally worked up the strength to say no.

She’d come into it with an open mind, certainly. A chance to, at the very least, make a friend - and possibly much more. Maybe she’d find she has more in common with the boys than her female classmates. She didn't really know him, but he seemed to do decently well in school, seemed reasonably athletic like herself, appeared to have friends…

"It would be good for both families," her family had said. "Forrest is a nice boy," they'd said.

Forrest was not a nice boy.

Her grandparents had been furious when she’d cut him off. The Burrs were the only other prominent cervine family in the area. But Forrest was intense, self-righteous, possessive, not as clever or interesting or curious as she'd thought, and had taken her polite rejection like a personal attack - obsessive and a bit unhinged, too, which she had noticed immediately but was now made all the more obvious since he had joined the coed soccer team, seemingly specifically to be around her more; meanwhile, she hadn't felt even a tinge of the intended attraction to him. Everyone probably knew it. But nobody said anything, because nobody wanted to get involved in drama between two founding families.

After praising their performance over the summer, Coach dismissed them for good until the school was back in session in a week. Finally.

Ruby grabbed her water bottle and started walking toward the locker rooms immediately. 

"Great job today, Ruby!"

She glanced over. Alisa, a fox monster, bright smile that didn't reach her eyes. Two of her friends flanked her with the same fake enthusiasm.

"Oh, me?" Ruby forced a laugh. "I've still got so much work to do. That last split was rough!"

"No way, you were amazing! You're so dedicated."

"Haha, thanks, I try..."

The conversation was as hollow as it always was. Pleasantries, performances. They didn't actually care how she did, they just cared that she was a Cedar. That her family owned half the buildings downtown, employed a sixth of the town's working adults through her dad's logistics company, had a street and a building at the high school named after them.

Nobody actually wanted to get too close. But certainly nobody wanted to be rude either.

Ruby had learned the careful dance of being friendly but not friends, of humbly accepting compliments and never showing that she saw through it all.

Maybe, though, that was putting too much blame on her family’s name. She was a bit… weird, too. She didn’t really have the same interests or habits or mannerisms as the other girls. She dabbled in those ‘girly’ things, sure, as would be expected of her, but she found it all a bit mind-numbing, outside enjoying a few of the artsier things like fashion or design. She’d spent a bit too much time on the internet growing up, both resulting in and as a result of not really having any close friends. There she’d delved into inter-species politics like how humans and monsters lived alongside one another but apart and other pertinent matters of the subject, as well as biology, history, and a less-intellectual more-frowned-upon gaming habit… suffice to say, none of the other girls of her social class had much to say about any of these things. And the lack of real, female interaction had only made her weirder, more awkward.

She changed quickly in the locker room, throwing on a t-shirt and shorts over her practice clothes, shoving everything into her gym bag, stalling time to make sure everyone else had left first.

The parking lot was mostly empty already. Her mom's car - a fancy Luxury SUV, impossible to miss compared to the others - was waiting near the entrance. Ruby climbed in, tossing her bag in the back.

"How was practice?" her mom asked.

"Too hot. Can we go?"

Her mom glanced at her but didn't ask anything.

Ruby stared out the window as they drove through Cedar Grove. Same streets she'd known her whole life. Same buildings. Same everything.

One more week.

One more week of this before school started. Before she'd be dual-enrolled at East Piedmont Community College three days a week. Before she'd finally get out of this town, even if only partially.

She still had the last day of symphony camp tomorrow. Performances in a cross-school event with human schools from the region. She'd been dreading it all week despite loving playing violin, because it meant performing in front of humans - even though the groups always self-segregated anyway - and because she'd be expected to represent Cedar Grove properly, to be an example, to not embarrass her family.

"You have performances tomorrow, yes?" her mom asked.

"Yeah. I still need to practice a bit."

"And then you're free until school starts?"

"Pretty much."

One more week. Then community college classes. Then actual college classes with actual college students who didn't know her weirdness, didn't know her family, didn't care about founding families or reindeer lineages or any of it.

They pulled into the driveway. Ruby grabbed her bag.

"I'm going to go to my room to practice," she said, already heading for the door.

"Don't overwork yourself, sweetheart."

"I won't."

She went straight to her room, closed the door, dropped the bag, flopped onto her bed and stared at the ceiling. She’d practice later.

Finally, away from everyone. Away from the fake smiles and Forrest's staring and the constant pressure of being a Cedar in Cedar Grove.

Ruby rolled onto her side, pulled out her phone. Scrolled through nothing. Some forum she frequented where nobody knew she was a monster unless she mentioned it, much less who her family was. Anonymous. Free.

One more week.

Then she'd be starting fresh. New school. New people. People who'd see her for her, not her last name. Maybe she'd even make actual friends. Maybe human friends? Okay, that might be too much, but…

Maybe she'd finally get to be Ruby instead of "a Cedar." Maybe they’d like that, too.

Her heart skipped a beat at the thought. She couldn't help but smile a little, alone in her room where nobody could see.

She'd have to give it her all.

Ruby set her phone down and sat up, pulling her laptop over. She opened the folder with her fall class syllabi. First up: HIS-251 Monsters in World History. Monday, Wednesday, Friday. 9:30 AM.

She'd already read the syllabus before but read it again anyway. The reading list looked interesting. Professor Yates seemed experienced based on his bio. 

This was going to be good. She could feel it.

Just one more week.

Then everything would be different. 

Better.

It had to be.