"Oh, I'm sorry!" Spike quickly apologizes.
"That's okay," the boy replies, and he and the girl walk on.
Spike looks after them, and then focuses his attention on his stuff on the floor.
"Damn! Why don't they use their eyes around here?" he mutters, and starts to put them in his bag again.
At that moment Cordelia, who was just striving by, hears Spike mumble, looks back, quickly retraces her steps and squats down next to him to help him gather his belongings.
"Eh, do you need any uhm, help?" she stutters.
Surprised by the sudden offer, Spike looks at her and says: "Yeah, thanks."
"Eh, you're new here, aren't you?" Oh, great move, Cordy. First you stutter, and now you sound like a first-grader.
"Pretty much. The name's Wil-... Spike. Spike O'Donnell."
"Oh, well, I'm Cordelia, but everyone here calls me Talon."
"Interesting. Why's that?" Probably the same reason I want people to call me Spike.
"Because... because I sing in a band and Talon sounds better than Cordelia."
"Good choice. Hey, thanks for helping me out, but I really have to search-... uh, go to my class. Nice meeting you, and eh, thanks again."
While Spike stands up, he smiles at her before he starts down the hall.
"Sure, any time! I'll see you around here... somewhere..." Man, what a hunk! And a nice looking butt too... So why did I sound like some stupid dork? I have to get him to... Hey, what's this? On the floor lies something that looks like a... stake?
"Hey, you forgot your... stake!" she yells after Spike, but he doesn't hear her and continues down the hall, leaving Cordelia standing there with the wooden stake in her hand.
In the classroom the teacher writes 'The Black Death' on the blackboard and then turns to the class.
"It is estimated that about twenty-five million people died in that one four-year span. But the fun part of the Black Plague is that it originated in Europe how?" the teacher asks the uninterested class.
No one looks up, including Spike. He's busy taking notes. So is Angel, seated next to him.
Since no one shows any sign of wanting to answer, the teacher continues: "As and early form of germ warfare. If you'll look at the map on page sixty-three you can trace the spread of disease into Rome, and then north..."
Everyone around Spike grabs his or her book, but he doesn't have one and looks around for help. Angel notices and shares his book.
"And this popular plague led to what social changes? Steve?"
The bell rings and the students get up to leave. Outside the classroom Angel extends his right hand and introduces himself: "Hi, I'm Angel."
Spike accepts it and also introduces himself: "Hi, I'm Spike. Spike O'Donnell."
"You know, if you want to have your very own textbook, which is a guide to absolute and utter boredom, there's probably one available in the library."
"Thanks for the advice. And exactly where would that be?"
"Come one, I'll show you."
Angel starts down the hall, and Spike follows.
"So, you're from England, right?"
"Keen observation. What gave it away? My jacket, my hair, or my fancy British accent?"
Angel's laughter makes some other students turn their heads. When they see who's doing the laughing, they make themselves look as invisible as possible. Spike sees this, and makes a mental note of it. Guess the guy I'm walking with is not everyone's favorite student.
"You're a fun guy. Stick with me and my buds, and you'll be accepted in no time. Do you play football?"
"No. Never gave it much thought. I always had... other ways of keeping in shape. Why do you ask?" Geez, what a moron. There are more things to life than being the stud of the school. For a second Spike's mind is overtaken by a flashback. Like being normal.
"Just checking to see if you were gonna be competition. Say, do you like Jell-O?"
"I have this feeling that if I say no, you're going to tell me that's what they serve every day in the lunchroom." Where is that damned library? If we don't get there soon, I'll strangle this guy! With much effort Spike tries to keep smiling and stay polite.
"Oh, wait here, I have to take a sip," Angel says as he points to a drinking fountain.
Standing over the fountain is Oz. He straightens up and sees the two coming his way.
"Hey Oz, how's life? Don't go out much, eh? Been surfing a lot on the Web? No wonder you're almost transparent," Angel says, and gives Oz a firm pat on the shoulder.
"Oh, uh, well, I... I just don't like to go out that much," he stutters.
"No wonder you're such a babe magnet. Are you done?"
Oz looks at the fountain, then back at Angel.
"Oh! Yeah. Uh, I'll just be, uhm, going now. Bye."
He turns and leaves as quickly as he can without looking as if he's running away. Spike watches him go for a moment before looking back at Angel after he starts talking again. Great. I'm hanging with a bully. I have a very, very strong dislike for bullies. And that's using an understatement.
"You know, if you wanna fit in with us, the first rule is: know your nerds. Once you can identify them all by sight," Angel quickly glances at Oz's back, "they're a lot easier to avoid."
"Yeah, sure, whatever," Spike mumbles, and produces a half-hearted smile before looking at Oz again, who just rounds the corner. Nerds, sure. I bet they're a Hell of a lot better to stand and two times a Hell of a lot nicer to be around than any of your group.
The two of them continue their walk to the library, and it doesn't take long for Angel to start talking again to a now seriously annoyed Spike.
"Hey, if you don't have too much catching up to do you should come by the Bronze tonight."
"The what?"
"The Bronze. It's the only club worth going to around here. In fact, it's the only club around here. And they let ANYbody in, even guys like Oz."
"Phew, I was almost scared they would only let guys like you in," Spike can't resist to remark sarcastically.
But Angel totally ignores the remark, and they stop outside the library doors.
"That's settled then, I'll see you there tonight. Catch ya later!" Angel says, gives thumbs up and leaves a Spike who's near boiling point behind in front of the library.
While he walks through the doors, he murmurs: "If that guy would have said one, just ONE more word, I would have staked the bloody bastard on the spot, human or no human! I HATE airheads!"
Inside the library he stops and takes a look around. And where am I supposed to find those damned books? Why doesn't anything ever work out for me! If I weren't a Slayer, I'd bloody shoot myself! His eyes come across a newspaper, lying on the book checkout counter in which a picture is circled. The caption above it reads 'Local Boys Still Missing'.
A woman comes up behind him, and taps him on the shoulder. He spins around, ready to fight, and relaxes when he sees it's just a normal person standing there.
"Oh, sorry. I almost thought the library was deserted."
Spike succeeds in keeping his voice casual. How come I didn't hear her coming? Could it be... Please no, not here!
"I'm sorry if I gave you that impression. Can I help you?" the woman asks, with a dark but friendly voice. She has a strange accent, which he can't quite pinpoint to a certain country. Her face looks like that of a normal woman, but Spike can see the fine lines of worry near her eyes and mouth, and her eyes have an almost cold glare in them. She's someone to reckon with.
"Actually, yes. I was looking for a book about, eh... You see, I'm new here, I just have to have the books I need to follow classes."
Great answer, Spike. As if I would need books for something else, being a teenager and all.
"Ah, I see. Mister O'Donnell, I presume?"
"Correct. Either you're psychic, or I'm the only new kid in school. I'd say the latter."
"Welcome to Sunnydale. I'm Miss Summers. The librarian. I was told you were coming."
"Why am I not surprised. Okay, I'm gonna need 'Perspectives on 20th Century..."
He keeps talking while Miss Summers walks around him and heads behind the counter. Spike follows, leans against the counter, and quickly reads the article about the missing boys. Bloody Hell, if that's what I think it is... His thoughts are interrupted by the librarian's voice.
"I know exactly what you need."
With a faint smile she pulls out a very dusty, very large and very old book with the word 'VAMPYR' written in big gold lettering on the front cover, and smacks it on the counter. The dust swirls around Spike's head, while he looks up at the librarian with a slightly angry gaze.
"That is not what I am looking for," he says emotionless.
"Are you sure?" Summers asks.
"Absolutely, positively, 200 percent, sure."
The anger reaches his eyes, and he emphasizes every word.
"Oh," the librarian replies confused, "my mistake."
When she puts the book back behind the counter, Spike backs away as silently as possible, turns and walks towards the doors.
"So, what is it you said again..." Summers starts while straightening back up, but stops as she sees the swinging library doors. Her first encounter with Spike leaves her baffled.
In the guys' locker room two boys are talking about Spike.
"The new guy? Seems kind of weird to me. What kind of a name is Spike, anyway?" Mark says.
"Y'know, I talked to Angel, and he heard from Drusilla that he got kicked out, and that's why his dad decided to transfer here," Jonathan replies.
Mark continues to fiddle with his gym lockers, he always has trouble remembering in what order the numbers are, and says: "No way!"
"Yes way! And he was starting fights."
"No way, man! Come on, he's British! I thought those guys were, like, THE most civilized people on Earth!"
Jonathan opens his locker while saying: "Yeah, well, I heard from Blue, and she said that-"
A dead boy falls out of the locker onto his arm. Jonathan lets out a loud, terrified screech while jumping backwards against a terrified Mark, and the body smacks against the floor with a sickening thud.