Spike did his best evil laugh when they wouldn’t stop staring at him. He knew the best way to freak them out even more was just to shrug the whole thing off. But he loved the positive attention. The shock. The awe. They looked at him like he just came back from hell and knew exactly what little naughty stuff they did last summer. Yeah, this is me, you stupid wankers. The guy you picked on can bleedin’ break you in half now. The teacher called Cordelia’s name, but she didn’t answer.
When no one took their eyes off of him, Spike decided he should just go back to what he was planning to do. So he grabbed a Sharpie from the person sitting next to him and started writing “S-P-I-K-E” in big letters on his desk.
“Excuse me? What do you think you’re doing?” The teacher was beyond annoyed now, but he was starting to think Spike was the ringleader of this bunch, so he didn’t dare threaten the principal’s office to him.
“Oh, just,” Spike replied casually as he gazed sideways at the word he just wrote on the desk, “writing my name so certain incoherent wankers know this is my desk. And mimicking you.” He gestured to Mr. Davis’ name on the board before getting back to work, completely intent with darkening the letters.
Riley stifled a convulsion. The whole class knew Spike was talking about the football player; they had all intriguingly watched the heated conversation between the two of them over the desk currently being branded. Spike was showing superiority to Riley, which completely dumbfounded the class. This was William, the same guy who Riley picked on a few months prior for breathing inadequately. Everyone thought Spike had lost his marbles or swapped bodies with a biker.
“That’s not acceptable,” Mr. Davis managed.
“Y’know what, you’re right,” Spike looked up at the ceiling for a second, deep in thought. He was looking for an answer, so he did his best philosophical chin touch. “Oh, I know!”
Mr. Davis thought for a second that Spike was reforming his bad behavior. Only for a second, though. Spike whipped out his lighter and dropped to the floor. He put the flame to where the metal leg of the chair met the linoleum floor in a hilarious attempt to wield the desk to the floor.
“It’s removable, see,” Spike announced in a didactic manner with a point of his finger. “Can’t have that happening.”
The whole class laughed while covering their mouths. Spike even thought he heard a cackle from Riley and Mr. Davis.
“Well, yes...” Mr. Davis was sure that Spike was the head honcho of the group now, and if his lessons on teaching had taught him anything, it was that you didn’t mess with that person. That and the alpha-male spiel he got in biology. He concluded that he should just let Spike slide. “But let’s focus on English.”
Spike glanced up at the teacher for a second and it looked like he wasn’t going to stop. But slowly, he nodded his head and plopped back on the chair. He made it look like it was his decision and not the teachers.
“We’re going to read The Crucible first this year.” Mr. Davis stated in a giddy tone, even though he was probably shooting for educational. It was like the guy was in a candy store. A guy that was going to show all his friends the yummiest type of candy.
Spike snorted. “Oh, great,” he mumbled from the back of the class.
Mr. Davis caught it. “What’s that, Will—err... Spike?”
Spike looked up at the teacher. “It’s just that, Mr. Davies, I’ve read that before. Bloody boring to read again.”
Mr. Davis was irritated that Spike didn’t even know his name. “Oh, really? This is the book The Crucible, not the instrument.”
He thought that Spike was stupid. He was wrong.
“I soddin’ well know that, Mr. Deedies.” The class had picked up on Spike’s alternating names for the teacher and started to stifle giggles. Mr. Davis still looked unimpressed, so Spike sighed and continued. “In the end, everyone gets hanged, even Proctor. Abigail gets her way. Stupid bint. Shoulda been a blonde.”
The last quip was a shot at Buffy and, despite her superhero ability of valley girlness, she sensed this and reddened a little.
Mr. Davis was amazed that Spike had read the book. A book. He was also mad that Spike had just ruined the story for everyone in the class. He didn’t know whether to be perturbed or pleased, so he just chose to ignore Spike completely.
“We’re going to the library to get our books now,” he announced to the class.
Everyone nodded and started for the library. Spike walked a little slower than everyone else and was able to duck out, even with the watchful eye of Mr. Davis on him. He went to the restroom and started smoking.
Well that was a good start he assured himself silently in his head as he took a drag. Everyone knows who I am now and not to mess with me. Spike was really happy with his first class thus far. All the goofy and funny stuff was really winning over the crowd. He was also punishing the populars, which was just about the noblest thing someone could do in High School. He suspected that everyone would be whispering “do you know that Spike?” in the halls by lunchtime. No more William. No more being made fun of. Now, it’s my turn to play. Payback's a bitch.
He also felt Buffy’s eyes on him, which warmed him to a simmer. She wasn’t insulting him or making stupid jokes about him now. She was admiring him. She probably thinks I’m cool he wistfully reasoned. Just for one second, he thought about Buffy without the added backage of the past and smiled a little. It quickly faded as all the mean stuff she’d done to him hit him like a freight train. I love that stupid piece of hair.
Angel had told him he was “cool” a few days ago, and Spike was finally starting to believe it. Angel and Spike had been tentative buddies all throughout school, clinging to each other as the populars picked on them. They were decent friends, although they disagreed a lot. Angel was the only guy that ever saw Spike over the summer. At one point, when the twosome was working out together, Angel muttered that Spike had changed. Spike just grinned and continued pumping away. He finished the rest of his set without breathing, just thinking about Angel’s words. I’ve changed.
Now he knew he changed. He was thrown in a swamp full of crocodiles with ham wrapped all around him and managed to make all the grizzlies cower behind a log. Which remind me of my Steve Irwin impression he thought with a grin. He threw his cigarette in a sink and stalked back to class.
The students had returned from the library by the time he got back and were reading the book silently. Spike waltzed in and immediately everyone stopped reading and glanced up at him. I have the attention of the entire class by just presence alone he thought with a grinned.
“Hey, Mr. D,” Spike casually addressed the teacher with a scratch of his head. “Sorry, kind of got lost.”
The class giggled. They all knew full well that Willia—err, Spike knew where the library was located.
Mr. Davis was prepared for such an instance, however. He was a new teacher, after all, and desperately trying to become a cool teacher. He whipped out a copy of the book with a sly smile and handed it to Spike. “I thought you had, so I took the liberty of getting you a copy.”
Spike held it in his hands for a second, deciding whether or not just to throw it in the trash. Or burn it. It was a good book, yeah, but he had already read it. Hell, I probably have a soddin’ copy of it at home. He grudgingly went back to his seat, “accidentally” bumping into Parker’s shoulder on the trudge back. Parker didn’t say anything.
He sat down and examined the book in his hands. He titled it sideways and acted like he thought the book was going to do something like jump out at him. The students who were still looking at him chuckled and finally went back to their book.
Spike tore a page out of the book and wrote “VALLEY GIRL” in big letters. He gathered up enough courage and threw it at Buffy’s hair. When she glared back at him after the hit, he almost lost it. Oh, god... she’s so hot. Look at those penetrating eyes... those luscious lips... But she saw the paper on the ground beside her desk and giggled as she picked it up. She probably thought Spike was sending little love letters to her. When she read the two words, she looked back at Spike in a quizzical manner.
He just shrugged in response and opened the book, although he didn’t read it. So she doesn’t even know what she is? That’s bloody ironic. He didn’t know whether Buffy really was stupid or not. She always completed her assignments and everything. She just inserted “like” in, like, every other, like, word of the, like, conversation, and so he, like, assumed, like, that she was, like, stupid. But he didn’t like know she was stupid fo’sho’ or not.
But he was happy that he taunted her. Even if she didn’t know what it meant, she would innocently ask Riley during lunch and he’d tell her. She’d either tell him that Spike, not William, had called her that, or she would just bottle it up inside of herself. A smack down with Hall Monitor’s face versus Buffy thinking about him every second of class. He’d take both in a heartbeat.
She needed a taste of her own medicine he thought, but the soft part of his mind was screaming at him, telling him to stop. That was another weak characteristic Spike had tried to suppress over the summer, but he just couldn’t. He stuck his foot in it, but like sticking a foot in a spring, it just kept bouncing back up. And the harder he put his foot down, the higher up his foot went in the end.
So what’s that mean? I’m gonna soddin’ revert back to everyone’s bitch? Bugger that! If anything, I’ll be William the Wise Ass... He wanted to reassure himself, so he tore another page out of the book and lit it on fire with his Zippo. It was a rather crude way to get the attention back on him, but he didn’t care. He waved the kindled piece of paper in the air over his head rhythmically, gazing into oblivion with a happy smile on his face, while everyone stared at him. It was like he was at a concert listening to an amazing encore performance.
The teacher smelled smoke and shot up. “Mister... Spike!” Mr. Davis yelled. He might take little wise cracks, but he didn’t want to burn down the school.
Spike snapped out of his catatonia. “Oh, sorry!”
He quickly threw the enflamed piece of paper on the ground and stomped it with his feet, effectively putting the fire out. He did this with hilariously fearful flinches in his every movement, probably trying to mock what anyone else would have done in his situation. But everyone knew by now that Fire and Spike were close buddies. Well, everyone that was smart. So not Riley.
“I was jus’ thinkin’ of a Freebird solo I saw on Youtube the other day,” Spike stated blankly as if it answered everything. “But I guess we have, like, cell phones, and, like, oh my gosh, blueberries for that now!”
His sarcastic words burned the populars in the classroom. He wasn’t just throwing salt on the wound; he was screaming curses at it now.
“To the principal’s office!” Mr. Davis yelled angrily. He had finally decided maybe classes on classes weren’t the best guidelines for teaching. He pointed to the door.
Spike frowned a little, but he wasn’t sad. It was clearly a “yes, I’m getting the fuck out of her” frown, maybe even a backwards grin, and everyone picked up on it. He grabbed the book as he walked to the door.
Mr. Davis snatched the book before he could exit. “I don’t want you burning this or anything.”
Spike shrugged. “You’re probably right. I’d use it as a catalyst to burn some poor girl’s hair. Or some football player’s locker.”
He grinned wickedly at the thought and nodded goodbye at Mr. Davis. “Mr. D.”
He waved tootles at the class. “Class.”
And he left.
Whomg! Principal! Is he friend or pal? Will Spike even show up to the principal’s office, or go sadistically burn Riley’s locker? And whatstehflick is up with teh no Spuffy? Review to find ou... gah, I’m such a drag...