Chapter Text
September 1st, 1989…
Wait, wrong musical–
And that’s a lie. It’s September 1st, 2019. The last day of summer. Still, one can imagine the dread that filled Veronica Sawyer as she entered her senior year and channel that into a younger, shorter, gother heroine who was also returning to school as her summer break came to a close. And for one 16-year-old Lydia Deetz, school just meant spending less time at home with her wacky, lively yet not-alively family.
Lydia barely left the house over the summer, but she was far from inactive. She spent much of the dog days in the attic with the Maitlands, watching Adam rebuild his mini landscape model or listening to Barbara recount the stories of their lives before they, well…stopped living. Sometimes, Lydia would read from a new poetry novel at the kitchen table while Delia made a vegan-friendly dinner. On those days, Lydia often had to be the judge of whether or not the meal was not only safe for vegans but also safe for the rest of them.
Lydia tried to spend more time with her father, but he was a busy man. He was always capitalizing on some new real estate deals within the area, but he was also making more of an effort to spend time with his daughter. After a long day of taking phone calls and visiting vacated properties, Charles would happily join Lydia on the couch for a night of whatever she wanted. Card games, talking about her mother (he made good on his promise to do that more), or even just a good ol’ fashioned movie night. He always let Lydia pick the movie, which usually meant it was somewhere between a thriller, horror, or action film. Charles himself was not as much of a horror-lover as she was, but he didn’t mind the skin-crawling images and jump scares if it meant he could spend time with his little girl. Lydia could recall a few of those movie nights when he fell asleep during the show out of sheer exhaustion. She never minded or woke him up though. She loved their time together all the same.
Then, there was the elephant in the room.
Well, more like the millennia-old demon in the room.
That’s right! Beetlejuice returned to the Maitland-Deetz household after several months of searching the Netherworld for his father. He told them he’d found some good leads and just wanted to settle a bit before he truly set off, but Lydia knew he secretly missed them. As she knew, it’s important to treasure the family you do have instead of chasing the distant thought of another.
Of course, Beetlejuice being back meant nothing but total shenanigans from the dynamic duo. He and Lydia did all kinds of stuff together. She’d have him hold random objects so they’d look like they were floating in her photographs, a maneuver most photographers often had to use some overpriced computer application to accomplish. Other days, they’d spend hours in front of the TV, playing video games and eating junk food (or just plain old junk in Beetlejuice’s case). They also pulled the occasional scare on a visiting delivery man if no one else was around to bust them. Lydia couldn't imagine her summer without Beetlejuice. It just wouldn't be complete.
Family and photography. Poetry and poltergeist. That just about sums up Lydia’s summer.
But with the first day of her junior year tomorrow came the end of her dream world, and now she was about to get smacked in the face with the reality of AP classes and college applications.
She wasn't exactly thrilled.
“I don’t wanna go back,” Lydia groaned into a pillow. She was spending her last night of summer in the attic, and she quickly found herself face-first in the cushions of an old couch. It wasn’t that she hated school. She just didn’t like it very much.
“C’mon, cheer up kiddo,” Adam encouraged from the other side of the room. He and Barbara were looking through boxes of their old things while simultaneously trying to get Lydia into better spirits. “School can’t be all that bad.”
“But it can always get worse,” Lydia retorted, still smothering herself in the couch.
“Well, back in the day, when Adam and I went to your school,” Barbara went off in a dreamy kind of storytelling voice, one she knew Lydia’s curiosity could never resist. “We loved going to school.”
“Yeah, duh, look at you guys.” Lydia sat up and gestured to the dead couple. “You guys seemed to have your lives together before…” A beat of awkward silence. “Well, you know. Anyway, I bet high school was real good to you guys.”
“You’d be wrong to think that,” Barbara said with a solemn inflection. She looked up at her husband and held out her hand for him to take. “High school was actually a difficult time for the two of us.”
“Really?” Lydia quirked an eyebrow.
“Yeah, but we had different reasons,” Adam explained, giving Barbara’s hand a gentle squeeze. “I was under a lot of pressure from my parents to get valedictorian, and Barbara was a three-sport varsity athlete.”
Lydia looked to the woman in question in utter disbelief. “You played sports?”
“Field hockey, track, and lacrosse,” Barbara counted them off on her fingers with a proud grin. She shrugged bashfully. “I was kind of a jock back then.”
“‘Kind of?’” Adam repeated incredulously. He dug through one of the boxes and pulled out what looked like a yearbook. He kept talking as he flipped through the pages. “Please, she’s sugar coating it! Look here, Lydia.”
“Adam, don’t show her!”
Despite Barbara’s protests, Adam sat down next to Lydia and put the yearbook on display. On the pages, Lydia could spot a younger version of Barbara, running around with a lacrosse stick in her hands and eye black all over her cheeks.
“Wow, Barbara,” Lydia chuckled, though she was really more impressed than anything else. “Nice war paint.”
“It’s a lacrosse thing, okay?” Barbara whined defensively.”
“She was an MVP,” Adam went on in total adoration, skipping to other pages of Barbara playing field hockey or brandishing track medals. “She went to team parties, ran around at pep rallies, had a letterman jacket–the works!” Adam kept showing Lydia picture's of his wife's achievements, and all Lydia could do was gawk in utter shock and admiration. They continued to surprise her every day.
“The jacket!” Barbara suddenly gasped before shooting up and racing back to their box of memories. Adam shut the book and put his full attention on her. She shuffled a few things around before gasping again. “Adam, look! It’s still in here.”
Adam jumped out of his seat and ran to join her as she pulled out a large, black letterman jacket with white sleeves. The design looked a little dated, but Lydia still recognized the Southern High ‘S’ on the lapel. Together, the couple patted away some of the dust and then took a moment to bask in the memories they shared. Lydia didn’t quite get it, but she was sure it meant a lot to them.
“Aw man,” Adam sighed in amazement. “You remember the story behind this, Babs?”
“Of course I do!”
“Story?” Lydia interjected, her interest suddenly piqued. “I don’t know the story. Tell me the story!”
Barbara and Adam shared a knowing glance as if they were silently debating letting her in on their little secret. Lydia gave them a pleading smile. She knew they couldn’t resist that.
However, Barbara put her hands on her hips and challenged Lydia’s puppy dog eyes. “Promise us you’ll at least pretend to be excited for school tomorrow.”
“Okay fine, yes, I promise!” Lydia agreed almost all too quickly. Then, she hugged a pillow against her chest, rested her chin on top, and eagerly awaited for the Maitlands to continue. “Now, tell me the story!”
“Alright, alright,” Adam conceded with his hands up. He ambled back over to the couch and sat down with a dramatic groan. Then, he pulled the yearbook back out, opened it up, and began the story. “It was our junior year, a particularly rough year if you ask me. I had spent the first half of my high school career getting picked on by–let’s see, where is he…” He bit his lip in focus while his finger ran down the student pictures in the yearbook. Suddenly, he tapped his finger right under the photo of a guy whose neck was as thick as his head. “Ah-ha! Here he is. Trevor Griffs. Some football rockstar who thought it was fun to pick on the captain of the chess club.”
“You were captain of the chess club?” Lydia queried.
“No,” Adam scoffed, but then he added a little more quietly, “I was co-captain.”
“Griffs was a total tool,” Barbara drawled, picking up the story where Adam left off. “Where some of us athletes worked for our glory and enjoyed the rewards in silence, he basked in his high school fame. He even convinced the whole school that having a letterman jacket was the only way to be considered ‘cool’, which is probably one of the stupidest things I encountered in my high school experience.”
Lydia narrowed her eyes at Barbara. “But you had one, right?”
“Not at the time,” the she-ghost admitted, leaning back against an old bedpost and holding her hands in her lap. “They’re pretty expensive, and I was saving money for college.”
“Then where’d the jacket come from?”
“Be patient, we’re getting to that part,” Barbara admonished the younger girl. She looked up in thought, pulling the story from her memory. “Adam and I had been officially dating for about a year, I think.” She looked to Adam, her face scrunched in confusion. “Was it a year?”
“Closer to eighteen months,” Adam replied factually.
“Wow, really? I thought we made it official at the ‘02 homecoming.”
“But wasn’t our two-year anniversary at junior prom?”
"Ahem."
Both Maitlands turned to look at Lydia, who had cleared her throat to interrupt their trip down memory lane.
“Oh, right! The story.” Adam snapped his fingers before picking right back up with the tale. “Anyway, Trevor Griffs was being more of a jerk our junior year because he wanted to win prom king at junior prom." He added on a bitter note. "Despite his butchered GPA, he could still see that he’d have to take Barbara to the dance to up his popularity.”
“Again, this whole thing was so stupid,” Barbara groaned, squinting her eyes in disgust. She recovered her bearings with a deep sigh. “However, I was just as determined to not go with Trevor as he was to go with me, so I hatched a plan to make this guy back off Adam while also making it plainly clear that he had no shot with me.”
A brief moment of silence passed, and Lydia thought she was going to turn 21 before they finished this story. “What’d you do?”
“I took some of the money from my sweet sixteen, and I bought a letterman jacket,” Barbara told her, enunciation every syllable with utmost care. “I made it a few sizes bigger, and then I gave it to Adam.”
“You wore her jacket?” Lydia asked Adam. “Isn’t it usually the other way around?”
“Yes, but you’re not the only one around here who’s 'strange and unusual',” he said with a wink. Lydia smirked as he continued, “And believe it or not, it worked. The jacket may have said ‘Southern High Girls Field Hockey', but people actually started treating me like I was cool.”
“You were always cool to me, Adam,” Barbara professed with love in her eyes. “And more importantly, Griffs left us both alone.” With that, she concluded the story.
“Wow,” Lydia said, running the whole story through her head again. “That’s one helluva story. I guess high school wasn’t so easy for you guys after all.”
“Well, people love to hear about the stories of the popular kid and the nobody, but no one wants to see it happen to other people,” Adam divulged wisely with a shrug. “It just doesn’t make sense to some people."
“That’s deep,” Lydia remarked with a small grin. Then, another question came to mind. “Wait, if you guys ran in different circles, how did you meet?”
“We actually met in middle school,” said Adam.
“Yeah, sixth grade,” Barbara reminisced fondly. “Adam walked into the girls’ locker room by accident and then sprinted out. I went to make sure he was okay, and we've been best friends ever since.”
“The best of friends,” Adam corrected. “Not even death could make us part.”
Both Lydia and Barbara cringed at his one-liner. There was certainly no shortage of dad jokes, even of the mildest degree.
“Ha ha,” Barbara mocked, shaking her head at Adam. It didn’t wipe away the shit-eating grin he bore. “But to sum up our story, we struggled in high school, yes, but we struggled together, so we were happy.”
“Sounds amazing,” Lydia acknowledged sarcastically. “But I don’t have a hallmark-love-story counterpart to look forward to." Before the Maitlands could say anything on that, she quickly declared, “Nor do I need one.”
“Ya never know, kiddo,” Adam shrugged. “Romance can appear at any moment.”
“Ew, don’t get all mushy,” Lydia grimaced as she pulled out her phone and checked the time. It was almost midnight, and she had to wake up in seven hours. Knowing she shouldn’t start the new year sleep-deprived, she stood up and headed towards the door. “I’m going to sleep. I’ll see you guys in the morning.”
“Hey, remember our deal!” Barbara reminded her. She was determined to make sure Lydia was at least trying to enjoy school. “Fake it ‘till you make it, sweetie!”
“Sure thing,” Lydia agreed half-heartedly. “Good night guys!”
As she closed the door to the attic, Adam’s last words repeated in her head.
Romance can appear at any moment.
In all honesty, she hadn’t really thought about that kind of stuff since her mom passed, maybe even ever. Sure, she shared an idle crush or two with her friends, but that was elementary school shenanigans. Maybe, in this new year, would some other new experience enter her life?
Nah.
Lydia shook her head to herself and dismissed the thought for good. Then, she made her way down the dark hall to retire for the night.
“So what are you looking forward to the most this year?”
Delia asked the question from her place at the counter. Her eyes flickered between Lydia, who was sitting across from her, and the pineapple she was cutting up.
Lydia shrugged, idly poking at the fruit that was already on her plate. She hadn’t put much thought into her schedule when she threw it together last semester, and she wasn’t dying to sign up for any extracurriculars. Also, visiting colleges did not sound fun. When she remained silent, Delia pursed her lips together.
“C’mon, you’re not excited for anything?” she pressed, a laugh playing at her voice. Lydia even cracked a smirk at her enthusiasm. “It’s your junior year, there’s more freedom! Where’s your schedule, I wanna–“
“Right over here!” Barbara called from the other side of the kitchen. She walked over to the counter with a bagged lunch in one hand and a sheet on paper in the other. She held the paper out in front of herself and inspected what was on it while Delia looked giddily over her shoulder. “And I see someone is taking Photography.”
Lydia let a full smile slide onto her face, much to the enjoyment of the two women in front of her. She had to admit, she was more than just ‘looking forward’ to her photography class. She suffered through studio art last semester just so she could get into photography, and she’ll be damned if all those fruit bowl sketches were for nothing.
“Well, I’m glad you’re finally gonna be able to put that talent to use,” Delia remarked, gesturing to the camera sitting atop Lydia’s bag. She tapped her chin in thought. “It reminds me of something my guru Otho used to say–“
“Lydia, time to go!”
“No, that’s not it.”
While Delia mused over old sayings, Charles rushed into the kitchen. He was in full business attire and staring at his watch like it would explode any second. Before he fled, Lydia could read the urgency on his face. She reacted accordingly, swiftly snatching her schedule and packed lunch from Barbara before stuffing them into her school bag. Then, she slung the strap of her bag over her shoulder and gave Delia and Barbara a one-armed hug each.
“Thanks for breakfast and lunch,” she hurried out. “But I better get in the car before Dad blows a fuse.”
“Hey now, be nice,” Delia chastised her mildly. “He’s been stressing about some new real estate deal all week. I think he has a meeting about it later.”
“Alright, alright,” Lydia agreed, turning around to follow her father out of the room. However, as she whipped around, she found herself face to face with a rotting decapitated head.
Lydia let out a roar of laughter when only Delia screamed. Then, she greeted the demon holding the head. “Mornin’ Beej, already getting a head start on the day?”
“Ha, nice one kid,” Beetlejuice snorted in his signature demon rumble. “But I heard today was your first day of school and brought you this for show and tell.”
“If only my classmates were as fun as you,” Lydia replied with a shrug. “Unfortunately, I think they’d all just run away.”
“Exactly!” Beetlejuice exclaimed. “It’ll keep the breathers away for sure!”
“Thanks, but I think I’d better say no.” Lydia adjusted her bag on her shoulder, a sly smile on her face. “I’m not sure I wanna scare all the breathers just yet.”
“Well, that outfit’s certainly not helping.” He gestured to her bland and dull attire of a white button-down and a dark plaid skirt that ended above her knees.
“I know, but it’s a uniform. Everyone will wear it.”
“Ew. School makes you do that?”
“Yep.”
“Gross.”
“Lydia!” Charles yelled from outside the front door.
“I better go before he gives birth to a baby goat,” Lydia rushed as she grabbed her school sweater off the coat hooks. “See you guys later!”
“Wait, where are you going?!” Beetlejuice shouted, but the door had already closed behind his best friend.
“School,” Barbara answered from the kitchen, mildly confused. “You know today’s her first day.”
“I didn’t know school meant she was leaving!” he whined as he stomped his feet like a child ready to have a tantrum. “Now what am I supposed to do all day?”
As if on cue, the one and only Adam Maitland came walking down the stairs, completely oblivious to the soon-to-be-bored demon pouting in the hall.
Beetlejuice’s eyes lit up when he saw the sexy man. “Hey, Adam!”
“Oh, God,” Adam mumbled.
The building before Lydia used to be Miss Shannon’s School for Girls, back in the late 1980’s anyway. That was all before it combined with Mr. Shane’s School for Boys and formed Southern High (they were really keen on keeping SH in the name somewhere). The two individual buildings had merged into one when they added a giant middle portion to unite them. Over the years, more attachments were built to accommodate more students. From where she stood in front of the school, Lydia thought it looked like a lopsided castle.
“Your step-mother’s picking you up after school,” Charles quickly said through the open window after Lydia had closed the door. “I’ll see you at dinner. Good luck in school.” She could tell by the way he spoke in short, choppy sentences that he was stressed about his upcoming meeting.
“Dad.” He looked up from his watch as Lydia leaned her forearms on the edge of the window. She sucked in a deep breath, indicating that he should do the same. He followed suit, and they both released all their tension into the air at the same time.
“Relax,” she advised, noticing his shoulders ease after a few more guided breaths. “I’m sure your meeting will go just fine.”
A smile cracked beneath his well-groomed beard. “Maybe you should follow in Delia’s footsteps and be a life coach. You seem to have the positivity for it.”
Lydia snorted at the prospect. “Yeah, no thanks.”
Charles glanced down at his watch again. “I really do have to go,” he confessed, starting to roll up the window. “Have a great day! Love you!”
“Love you, too, Dad,” Lydia called to him while she began to walk away from his car. She fell in step with the flow of students flooding into the school. Everyone was wearing the same shirt-and-skirt combo or the same sweater-vest-and-khakis combo, but thankfully people were allowed to spice up their looks with a few accessories, like pins and jewelry. Lydia honestly thought she would get whiplash if she had to go from staring at the same dull uniform all day and then back to her house where she had a demon with mood hair and, well…Delia.
“Penny for your thoughts, Deetz?” drawled a familiar voice beside her. Out of nowhere, a lacey-gloved-hand held a literal penny a few inches away from her face. Lydia knew who it was without looking.
“Yeah right, Jazz,” Lydia sneered in response to her friend. “It’ll take way more than a penny to break down the walls of my tortured soul.”
“Oh God, you’re doing that thing again,” Jasmine, who stood at the same height as Lydia and wore the same uniform but contrasted her in almost every other way possible.
“What thing?” Lydia quirked an eyebrow.
“That thing where you talk like a depressed poet from the 1800s,” Jasmine replied, making the penny disappear with a flick of her wrist. “It’s the first day of my senior year, girl. Can’t you wait until after first period before making me feel like I need an energy drink?”
In addition to her bizarre affinity for magic tricks, Jasmine was also the first person to approach the ‘creepy-new-goth-kid’ last semester. She saw the camera hanging around Lydia’s neck and invited her to the photography club, which was pretty much just the photography class goofing around after school hours and working on portfolios. Lydia, who had just made peace with the losses in her life and decided to give people a shot, readily agreed to join. She ended up having a blast with the quirky crew. No one was the same, and everyone’s unique style was reflected in their photos. She figured she could work with this strange and unusual crew. Jasmine, probably the most different from Lydia, decided they would be best friends after two days.
Jasmine had yet to be wrong about anything.
“Speaking of dead poetry,” Jasmine went on, pulling out her phone and sliding the screen to the camera. “I have an English class to get to so–“ she threw an arm over Lydia’s shoulders and held the phone up above their heads “–smile!”
Lydia gave the camera a half-smile while Jasmine went into her trademark duck face and snapped the photo. She was a very ‘live in the moment’ person, and it helped keep Lydia from dwelling on the past.
“And I’ll see you sixth period for photo,” Jasmine practically sang, waggling her eyebrows. With that, she took her leave, her focus plastered to her phone while she checked the selfies she took. Lydia watched her go for a second before pulling up her schedule on her own phone.
World History - 408
Of course, Lydia thought with an internal groan. First period, fourth floor.
Right as she was about to begin her trek to her first class, the warning bell rang, signaling a five minute grace period for anyone who still hadn’t found their class. Lydia readjusted her shoulder strap and followed the river of the students around her all the way to the nearest staircase. Then, she began the trek upward. It was times like these when she wished any of her ghostly friends could follow her to school. Over the summer, if she was ever ‘too tired’ to take the stairs, she would give Adam or Barbara a pouty look, and they’d be more than willing to levitate her up to the next floor. High school, on the other hand, was a different monster, one which she had to face alone.
A few minutes and a pair of sore legs later, Lydia found herself on the top level of the school. There was only one problem: it was the third floor. She pulled her phone from her pocket once more and double-checked her schedule. Sure enough, her first period was in room 408, and yet all of the rooms around her began with the number 3. She walked down every hall, hoping to find another staircase or some kind of extension that had a ‘408’. After a full lap of the third floor, the final bell rang and the halls cleared. Lydia’s stomach dropped.
“Fuck,” she whispered to herself, her head flopping backward in exasperation. It wasn’t the end of the world, but it certainly didn’t make her day any easier to be late to her first class. To top it all off, she still had no idea where she was going.
There was a beat of silence as Lydia slowly made her way back to the stairs. However, it was interrupted by a gruff voice behind her. “What are you still doing in the halls, young lady?”
Lydia let another slew of curses fly under her breath before she threw on the nicest smile she could muster and turned to face a teacher who looked like he was a rejected navy seal. When he marched over to Lydia, she found he easily towered over her by two feet at least.
“Oh, I’m afraid I got lost,” she answered in a sickeningly sweet voice, folding her hands behind her back. “Is there any chance you could show me to my class and let me off with a warning?” Around her house, she could get away with murder using that voice (and she probably has), but Lydia was being reminded every second of this school day so far that she was so not at home.
“Yeah, yeah, nice try,” he huffed, folding his bulging arms over his chest. “Front office. Now.”
Lydia dropped the smile from her aching cheeks and rolled her eyes. Then, she turned around and began her descent down the stairs, this time having a known destination. With the teacher following behind her, Lydia had one positive thought.
At least I can miss the beginning of history.
The front office looked like it came straight out a corporate movie set, with a few desks at different corners of the room, each paired with a bookcase filled to the brim with papers and files. The people who worked said desks sat in front of computers whose screens were reflected off their glasses. It was like watching clockwork. Lydia felt like it would be illegal to disturb the tense quiet occasionally wilted by keyboard taps and phone calls, but clearly the man who busted her had other opinions.
“Who’s in charge of attendance ‘round here?” he nearly hollered at the administrative team. His demands fell upon deaf ears, for they were all far more busy taking care of first-day logistics. The most of a reaction he got out of them was a few shrugs or fingers pointing at the phones they were talking into.
Lydia folded her arms over her chest with a sigh. She had no idea who this teacher was, but he was blowing this issue out of proportion. She got lost! She was late! Big deal! She just wanted to get this over with so she could get back to her ordinarily boring school day.
Navy-seal guy was fuming, his face red with anger when none of the drones answered him. Lydia gave him a sidelong look of concern–for his and her own safety. He was as red as Beetlejuice’s hair when he’s angry, and that situation didn’t exactly end well for her.
“I said,” he enunciated, his throat rumbling in annoyance. “Who’s in charge–!”
“Woah, why all the shouting?”
Both Lydia and her captor turned to a hallway that went into the front office. Standing in the corridor was another student–a boy, Lydia assumed, based on the sweater vest ensemble under his letterman jacket. Lydia’s sure she’d seen him around the halls last semester, but she couldn’t put a name to the face.
“This is none of your concern, young man” The teacher turned on the guy, his red tie whipping around as he did. “Now get to class before I write you up for being late, too.”
“With all due respect, Mr. Griffs,” the student responded, holding his hands up as though he were taming a beast. “I’m a student aide for the office during first period, so I am in class.
Lydia’s ears perked up at the name. She took a closer look at the teacher, and then she glanced at his name tag. Sure enough, his name was Trevor Griffs. This was Adam’s high school tormentor.
Small world.
Mr. Griffs paused, letting the information that was told to him process. Then, he coughed into his fist and changed the matter of the conversation. “Well then, maybe you can help me then. Do you know who handles tardies and absences?” He turned and hitched his chin at Lydia. “I caught this one playing hooky in the halls.”
“I told you, I got lost,” Lydia bit back. Mr. Griffs snapped his full attention back on her, and she met his bulging angry eyes with a stoic glare of her own. She’s literally been to hell. Very little scares her anymore.
Unbeknownst to either of them, the third player in their conversation had crossed over to them.
“The person you’re looking for is Ms. Kenney,” the other kid answered, side-stepping in front of Lydia and continuing his chat with Mr. Griffs as though she didn’t just sass a teacher. “And she’s on maternity leave after having her son a couple days ago.”
Lydia went to cut in. She didn’t need some guy defending her; she could fight her own battles. But she stopped herself when she caught sight of something a bit more mind-boggling. The back of his letterman jacket said “Southern High Girls Soccer”.
Interesting.
“However, in her absence, I’ve been given permission to handle some of her duties,” the student went on, glancing at Lydia over his shoulder. She opted to look away. “So you can go back to whatever it is you need to do, and I can take it from here.”
Griffs’ focus switched between Lydia and the guy in front of her for the longest time. The vein in his forehead threatened to burst. After what felt like an eternal stare down, Griffs straightened up and put his hands on his hips.
“Fine,” he conceded. Then, he jabbed a stern finger in Lydia’s direction. “But make sure she’s dealt with properly.”
With that, he turned on his heel and stalked out of the office. Lydia watched him go with a look of disdain. Barbara and Adam’s story did not do his attitude justice. What the hell is his problem?
“Mr. Griffs is the new assistant headmaster,” said the other kid as though he could read Lydia’s thoughts. He pivoted back so he could actually face her, and while he wasn’t as tall as Griffs, he still beat Lydia by a head. “He went here back in the day and then transferred back after teaching at some military school,” he explained. “Some decision by the school board to improve our test scores or some b.s. like that.”
“Seems like a charming man,” Lydia quipped, still looking at the door where the man in question had walked out.
“No kidding, we don’t even punish lateness that hard, and he’s over here acting like you punched a kid.” That little comment brought the smallest smile of amusement to Lydia’s otherwise frowning face. The other kid–Lydia still didn’t know his name, though he was definitely familiar–returned kind of a lopsided grin before gesturing back to the hall from which he came. “Anyway, right this way.”
Lydia followed him down the hall to a door with the word ATTENDANCE printed on a label above it. No-name kid opened the door to a small, dark office that appeared unoccupied at the moment. He flicked on the light and immediately went to dig through the desk. Lydia opted to stay by the wall. From where she stood, she could only see the top of his short brown hair sticking up above the desk. She boredly looked about the room, keeping her mouth shut, but then she remembered the back of his jacket. What are the odds, she thought to herself, but her curiosity was truly a force to be reckoned with.
“Is that your girlfriend’s jacket?”
His head poked up from behind the desk, and he narrowed his brow at her. “Excuse me?”
“‘Cause that’s pretty cool,” she kept going, figuring it was too late to stop now. “I have a family friend who wore his girlfriend’s letterman, and I just thought–“
“I’m gonna stop ya right there,” he cut her off, leaning a hand on the desk. Lydia immediately stopped her rambling and waited for him to speak. His face flashed a few different emotions–embarrassment, uncertainty, and a clear hint that this had happened before. Whatever ‘this’ was, Lydia had yet to find out.
“I know it might not look like it,” he began slowly, gesturing to his whole front to indicate his appearance. “But this is my jacket.” When Lydia didn’t immediately react, he added very clearly. “I play on the girls’ soccer team.”
Oh.
Oh.
She.
Lydia’s eyes widened like saucers when she realized her error. “Oh shit,” she mumbled, which seemed to coax a nervous chuckle from the apparently female student in front of her. She really needed to work on her people skills. “I’m so sorry–“
“Nah, don’t worry about it,” No-name kid replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. “It’s actually pretty damn okay, um…” She trailed off, glancing between Lydia and the floor before clearing her throat and walking in front of the desk. Then, she took a breath.
“I’m generally really bad at explaining this,” she admitted, and Lydia had no idea where this was going. “but, uh, here goes nothing.” She extended one hand to Lydia and introduced herself, “Hi, I’m Robin, and…” She pulled back the lapel of her jacket to reveal a pin on her vest. It was a flag with yellow, white, purple, and black horizontal stripes.
Oh.
Oh.
They.
Again, Lydia was struck speechless for a moment and didn’t even process that there was still a hand offered to her until Robin asked her in an inquiring tone, “Do you know what this means?”
Lydia eventually shook their hand and found her own voice. “Oh, um,” she sputtered out. “Uh, yeah, I do.” She watched Robin’s face instantly relax, that crooked smile returning. Lydia may have been a social recluse all summer, but she didn’t live under a rock. She quickly added in apology, “I’m sorry for all the assumptions, that was kinda shitty of me.”
“It’s fine, really I’m used to it,” Robin assured her, releasing her hand and leaning back against the desk. They pressed their lips together in a flat line. “I’ll admit though, I’ve never heard ‘girlfriend’s jacket’ before.”
There was amusement in their voice, and Lydia finally let her moment of embarrassment pass. Then, she realized she still hadn’t introduced herself.
“I’m Lydia, by the way…” and she thought it would sound better if she added “…she/her.” Robin raised their eyebrows at the extra information, but they didn't take it as Lydia expected.
“Lydia Sheeher, very nice to formally meet you,” they enthused with a firm nod of their head. Then, they glanced down at the desk and finally found what they were originally looking for: a green notepad. They picked up a pen and said, “Now, let’s fill out that late slip.”
“No, wait, I didn’t mean–“ Lydia began, but then she looked closer at the expectant expression on Robin's face. It was the same shit-eating grin Adam had last night. Lydia shook her head in disbelief. It was a goddamn pun. “You know exactly what I meant.”
“I do,” they answered simply. “And I genuinely appreciate it, really.”
“Well, it’s the least I can do after that whole girlfriend-jacket train wreck.”
“Ya know what?” Robin began to fill out the late slip as they spoke. “I’ll take it as a compliment.”
“Seriously?” Lydia chuckled
“Sure, I’d be lucky to have a girlfriend at any rate,” they rambled, probably not realizing just how much they were divulging to someone they’d just met. It wasn’t that Lydia minded. They seemed nice enough. “But I don’t wanna bore you with those details. Instead, I’m going to walk you to your class.”
“You don’t have to,” Lydia hurried to object.
“You said you got lost, right?” Robin reminded her as they tore off the late slip from the notepad.
“Well, yeah,” Lydia admitted sheepishly, pulling out her phone to check her schedule yet again. “But it’s probably just a printing error. It says my class is on the fourth floor, but there is no fourth floor.”
“In this building.”
Lydia blinked. “What?”
“This school has two main buildings, remember?” Robin informed her. “One has three floors, and the other has four.”
“Oh.” If Lydia didn’t already feel like an idiot from the whole letterman jacket debacle, this was the straw that broke the sandworm’s back
“Yeah,” Robin drawled, a laugh playing at their voice. They held the door open for Lydia and decided, “I’m so walking you to your class.”
“Are you sure?” Lydia whined, reluctantly heading out the door.
“Of course! Maybe we’ll find that girlfriend you think I have.”
Robin walked Lydia to the second building in comfortable silence at first. Robin eventually asked the classic ice breakers: What grade are you in? What class are you headed to? You do any extracurricular activities? Blah blah blah. Lydia concluded that they’re one of those kids who hates silence.
“Where are you going?” they asked her when she started to head towards the stairs. Lydia looked at them like the answer was obvious.
“The stairs?” she answered. “It’s kinda how we get to the fourth floor.”
Her quip only made Robin smirk as they pulled out a set of keys on a black lanyard. “Not when you have keys to the elevator,” they boasted with a shrug. “Perks of aiding in the office."
Robin swaggered over to the elevator with a mildly impressed Lydia right behind them. After they used the key and hit the up button, the pair waited for the elevator to come down. Robin’s foot tapped while Lydia stayed perfectly still.
“I can’t say that I’ve seen you much around school,” Robin stated. “Are you new?”
“Kinda, I moved here from New York last winter,” Lydia answered before realizing she didn’t want to answer the follow-up question of why. “My dad’s work.” That was kind of true.
“Ah.” By then, the elevator door opened, and the two teens stepped inside. It was a quick ride up. When the bell dinged and the doors opened once more, Lydia found that a fourth floor did in fact exist. They walked down the hall for a minute before reaching their destination.
“Room 408, Building B,” Robin announced. Then, they pulled out Lydia’s late pass and offered it to her. Lydia took the note, uttering a quiet thanks, and Robin shoved their hands into the pockets of their jacket. “Show it to your teacher and they should let you off easy. Then, have a parent sign it and return it to me whenever you can.”
“Will do,” Lydia said with a small salute.
Robin chuckled at the antics. Then, they slowly started walking back towards the elevator. “It was nice to meet you, Lydia.”
“You too, Robin,” she replied, and she meant it. After Robin disappeared around the corner, Lydia walked over to her classroom door. However, before she entered, she looked down at the late slip and felt her gut sink at the first thing she saw.
NAME: Lydia Sheeher
That jackass, Lydia swore to herself, glancing back at the hallway her new acquaintance was just standing in. She could still see that damn face they made after that pun was initially made.
She had to admit, though, despite her disdain for the bad jokes, she was certainly intrigued by the jock.