Author note ~
Sorry to make you read another note before the story starts, but I want to explain something real quick. I am leaving Vincent's parent's specific nationality up to interpretation. Ideally, Vincent's family is from a nation in southeast/east Asia. I'm leaving it up to interpretation for a couple of reasons. Reason number one is that I know multiple countries share like characteristics. That being said, I am NOT saying every country is the same, nor am I saying that every family is going to be like Vincent's. The second reason I'm doing this is because I do not want to butcher another language. The best you are going to get from me is google translate, and I know how inaccurate it can be. So...anytime Vincent or his family are speaking in italics (unless they are on the phone), just imagine it's another language for my sake.
Anyways, enjoy:)
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Sixth grade / Age 12...
What's typical for any middle school classroom?
Is it the pencils flying across the classroom by rowdy boys while the teacher has become so resigned to the action that she just sighs in disappointment at her desk? Or how about the pretty gossiping girls who just have to know the latest scoop on any new sales and boys in town that they might fetch a number from? How about the gushy couples that obsess over having arm candy? You know, the ones who say they love each other after two weeks and break up the next day because maturity hasn't graced their growing minds.
At this young of an age, there's no space for those who don't fit the stereotype. There's no silver lining in sixth grade because those who are secure of themselves, unlike a majority of the population, get bullied for their interests or are treated like they have some type of contagious disease.
Sixth grade is arguably the worst place to be for a child who doesn't fit the mold. That's why, despite the chaos of the classroom, Vincent Russell has his face tucked into a book.
Not even the distracting environment can tear him away from his comfort. After all, he's used to noise. He's learned to block it out after all these years.
There's nothing noisier than his home where his parents are still obsessing over the new arrival of twins. But even before that, it's like he could never silence their expectations of him because they whisper in his ear at every chance they get as if he can't think for himself. Maybe that's just the norm for second-generation immigrants.
As you can imagine, Vincent has become a master at tuning out the noise. However, maybe he is a little too good at it because he doesn't realize the teacher addressing him.
"âcent. Vincent," she says, clearing her throat and knocking on the wood of his desk, creating more unnecessary racket in his life. "Can you please work with your group to finish your project?"
Vincent reluctantly tears his eyes away from his book to look up at the teacher. The kind smile etched into her face makes him soften just a bit. He wanted to either ignore her or ask why she didn't get onto the other unfocused kids in the class but he shrugs it off.
Vincent's group looks at him with uneasiness as he shoves his fully finished report paper in the middle of the table. He flashes his teacher a knowing grin before slouching in his seat and flipping the page of his novel.
Vincent has never been good at talking to people, so he can be exceptionally uncooperative when teachers force him into teamwork. Not everyone learns the same, and he is waiting for someone to understand that.
And just like that, everyone is off Vincent's back. White noise persists for the next thirty minutes as Vincent gets lost in words and paper.
When the lunch bell rings, Vincent is the first person out of the classroom. It's not hard to spot him walking down the halls because he towers over most of the crowd and always has a book tucked under his arm.
He knows what people say about him. That he would probably have more friends if he interacted with real people more than fictional characters. That his lanky build would be great for sports. And even from his parents; that all his reading will make him smarter as if he even does it for them.
Even with all the talk that surrounds him, Vincent doesn't care. Somehow, in a place so judgmental, Vincent doesn't give a crap what other people think of himâan ideology that needs to be prioritized by those who are lost trying to fit in.
Vincent settles at his lunch table in the middle of the cafeteria. He pulls out his lunch box and starts quietly eating by himself. The isolation would be scary for some, but he doesn't mind it.
Two people join Vincent after a few minutes. Breaking the usually stoic boy's image, Vincent lets a smile tug at his lips from the company.
Befriending Leo Gaines and Sawyer Harrington definitely wasn't on his bucket list for this year, but it's something that he isn't complaining about. In fact, he is very grateful for them.
When they first met a couple of weeks ago, Vincent thought that the Golden Boy and Disney Prince had no business talking to him. He didn't know what two popular kids wanted to do with a quiet one that didn't involve getting taken advantage of in some way. However, the two have never been anything less than genuine, even when Vincent was convinced that he was their pity project.
Vincent thought the friendship was doomed at first glance. However, when the two could understand him better than anyone else, he gave them the benefit of the doubt. They never forced him into any conversation and when he did happen to speak, they never made a big deal about it.
"Chocolate chip or sugar?" Sawyer smirks, holding up two cookies, even though Vincent didn't request one. "Pick your poison."
Vincent playfully rolls his eyes before grabbing the sugar one.
Leo not-so-subtly whispers to Sawyer, "Told you he would be a sugar person."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Vincent smirks.
"Oh, nothing, nothing," he muses.
Vincent tosses an apple slice at him, and with those athletic reflexes of his, he catches it before eating it with a smug smile. Vincent rolls his eyes in annoyance before picking up his book.
"You broke him already," Sawyer chuckles.
If anyone else said that to Vincent, he'd probably be irritated, but the two peas in a pod are quickly becoming his best friends.
As the two get lost in conversation and occasionally ask Vincent questions that they don't pressure him to answer, Vincent is feeling at peace, regardless of the pressures on him to be something he's not.
Meanwhile, across the cafeteria, a certain student who doesn't fit the agenda is really struggling to find his inner peace. Unlike Vincent, Hayden Williams isn't okay with the constant isolation and rejection of not making friends.
Hayden keeps his head down as he walks through the hall to the cafeteria. Being bigger than most of the kids in his grade and being an unfortunate victim of hormonal acne, everyone stays away from the preteen who hasn't found his confidence.
The difference between Hayden and Vincent, though, is that Hayden thrives off of attention from others while Vincent never cared for it.
Coming from a home that is absent of a mother who never bothered to care for him and a father that is working his ass off all the time, Hayden often comes home to an empty house. He's never been good with loneliness, and knowing school is no less comforting is weighing on him more than he wants to admit.
Hayden's naive, though. That's part of what makes the boy so hopeful only to be met with disappointment every single time. He doesn't even notice the "kick me" sign on his back while kids snicker behind him.
Hayden's a very bubbly person; if only people could see that.
Hayden is in for a rude awakening when he walks through the cafeteria with a new lunch tray in his hands. He optimistically searches for a table to sit at, but before he gets the chance to try his shot at making new friends, someone trips him and he is headed face-first into his tray of pot pie.
Haunting laughs swirl around Hayden and he feels so humiliated that he can't even get back on his feet. Little does he know that he landed right next to Vincent's table. Although the spectacle didn't catch Vincent's attention, Leo and Sawyer sure are ready to help the boy close to tears with a face full of cooked carrots.
"What the hell is wrong with you guys?" Sawyer scoffs as he and Leo help Hayden up.
Leo rips the sign off his back and crumples it up before nailing one of the laughing kids in the face with it. Leo immediately rushes to grab some napkins while Sawyer gently urges Hayden to sit on the bench next to Vincent. Vincent scoots over about half a foot, not wanting to smell like chicken pot pie as he is getting to the good part of his story.
"Do you mind if I..." Sawyer breaks off, gesturing to Hayden's hair. "You have celery in your hair."
Hayden is looking down at his lap in embarrassment as he mumbles, "Why is someone like you helping me?"
Vincent raises an eyebrow as he briefly eavesdrops. He and Hayden have something in common; they both didn't trust the authenticity of the duo at first glance.
Sawyer asks in confusion, "What do youâ"
"Here, here," Leo interrupts, giving Hayden a stack of paper towels as he brushes off his shoulder. "You okay?"
Hayden laughs bitterly as the pair thoughtfully fusses over him. "They couldn't even come up with something creative."
Sawyer smirks, "At least you have a sense of humor on you."
Hayden smiles back as he realizes that the pair really is trying to help him out.
"I'm Leo, by the way," the brown-haired boy smiles.
"Sawyer," the other chimes.
"I know," Hayden mutters. "Everyone kind of does."
Leo unexpectedly begins to spray Hayden with some cologne as Hayden chokes on the strong scent.
"Sorry," Leo says hastily as his finger is still on the trigger.
Vincent, again, scoots over on the bench, not wanting to smell like every middle school boy who tries too hard to smell good.
"You know," Sawyer begins, "You kind of missed the part where you tell us your name."
"O-Oh...um, I'm Hayden," he explains with a timid smile.
Leo and Sawyer finally sit on the opposite side of the table when they see that Hayden is taken care of.
Vincent, for the third time, scoots away from Hayden as he sees the boy trying to catch a peek at what he is reading. Vincent doesn't care if his butt is halfway off the seat; he still doesn't want someone all up in his business uninvited.
"So, do you like football?" Leo asks hopefully.
Sawyer nudges him in the side with a laugh, "Jeez, you just couldn't wait, could you?"
"What?" He says defensively, throwing his hands up in surrender. "I just wanted to know."
As the two begin to playfully fight and mess around with each other, Hayden just awkwardly stares as Leo and Sawyer forget that he is sitting in front of them.
Wanting to find some entertainment for the remaining lunch period, Hayden looks to the boy on his left, who definitely isn't open to conversation. Hayden, however, is optimistic that he can find a new friend in the testy human.
"Whatcha reading?" Hayden asks politely, moving in closer to Vincent.
Vincent tosses a look of disgust at Hayden for interrupting his personal space. He then continues reading his book, completely ignoring Hayden's request.
Hayden obliviously snatches the book out of Vincent's hands, not catching the angry twitch of the closed-off boy's eyebrow.
"Hmm," Hayden muses, reading the back cover. "So you're into mystery? That seems...fitting."
Vincent scowls at Hayden before snatching the book back. Thankfully, he remembered the last page he was on and opens to that part. He gives Hayden the stink eye and mutters, "Bitch" under his breath.
Hayden takes the comment in a lighthearted fashion, even though Vincent didn't mean it in that way. "Well, if you're going to call me a bitch, at least call me a handsome one."
"Ugly bitch," Vincent says a little louder.
That definitely catches the attention of Sawyer and Leo.
"Don't worry," Leo says with a playful shake of his head. "That's Vincent. He's kind of just...like that."
Vincent smirks at Leo's description of him, but when Hayden examines the wry smile on his face, Vincent's amused expression turns to a glare.
"I saw that," Hayden chuckles, pointing to his face.
"Shut up," he huffs, scooting over again.
"He gets friendly...eventually," Sawyer adds smugly, receiving a kick in the shin by Vincent.
"You know, I think Hayden would be good for you," Sawyer smiles annoyingly.
Vincent begins to protest, but Leo cuts in before he gets to say anything.
"Oh yeah, future best friends."
"As if," Vincent scoffs.
Hayden grins when he moves closer to Vincent and grabs one side of his book so they can hold it together.
"Do you mind if we read together?" He asks innocently, his leg bobbing up and down with excitement. He might have finally found his crowd, and nothing is stopping him from softening the boy.
"Yes, I do mind," Vincent scowls, snatching the delicate pages out of his hands. He stands up from his seat and waltzes around the table so he can squish himself in between Leo and Sawyer.
Hayden is disheartened by his response, but he shakes it off when Leo and Sawyer happily begin to discover the friendly boy.
Lunchtime goes by faster than Hayden could've ever imagined because, for once, he is feeling safe at school and surrounded by others who know how to be kind, even if someone is a little less accepting.
Nevertheless, Hayden is fitting in more than he even realizes. Leo and Sawyer keep glancing at Vincent with knowing smiles because when Vincent actually hates someone, he doesn't even bother speaking to them.
When Hayden starts trying to play footsie under the table with Vincent, the black-haired boy's patience snaps. He immediately tosses his backpack over his shoulder, prepared to leave the table.
"Bye, Vincent," Leo chuckles as Sawyer waves.
"Bye," he announces, waltzing away from the group.
"Bye, Vinny!" Hayden exclaims with a mischievous smile.
Vincent turns back around with a glare at not only the nickname but the attention he is bringing to him. In one swift action, Vincent trudges back over, slaps Hayden across the back of his head with his book, and walks away like nothing happened.
Despite the new ache in his head, Hayden smiles as he watches Vincent walk away.
Even though kids are tossing mean names at him like 'nerd' and 'chopsticks,' Vincent just listens to the insults with pride. Anyone who would take the time to obsess about what he is doing or where he is just can't accept that he isn't insecure. As a matter of fact, he's untouchable.
When someone attempts to subtly tape a paper to his back, he just laughs it off. He rips the paper off his sweatshirt and confidently sticks it on the forehead of one of the laughing popular kids. Then, he shoots them a wink before grabbing an apple off of one of their trays and shamelessly taking a bite as he exits the cafeteria.
Hayden's mouth is left gaping wide open. What Vincent doesn't realize as he walks to his next class carelessly is Hayden staring at him in admiration. The confidence, the unfaltering steps, the certaintyâhe wants it all.
Hayden wants to be just like him, and nothing will stop him from trying to get closer to the enigmatic boy.
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What Vincent doesn't expect as he is walking home is a presence looming over his shoulder like an annoying fly that never goes away.
"What do you want?" he grumbles, walking faster so he can shake off his lunchtime "friend."
"Hey, wait up," Hayden exclaims, skipping to catch up with his stride. He places a hand on Vincent's arm before Vincent instantly pries off his fingers. "Do you live this way too?"
"Not anymore, apparently."
Hayden lets out a small laugh because somehow his creative insults are always quite humorous.
The first few moments of their walk are mostly silent with Hayden either balancing on the curb, excitingly peeking down at the creatures in the grass, or running to catch up to Vincent when he is out of his sight line. Just when Vincent is beginning to tolerate the kid, he pisses him off by opening his mouth.
"So...can I come over?" he says hopefully.
Vincent is absolutely outraged by the idea. "Whaâno. I don't even know you."
"Well, you could," Hayden beams, walking backward in front of Vincent so that he has nothing else to look at but him.
"Not interested."
"So, since we are besties now, can I call you Vinny?"
"Listen," Vincent huffs, stopping in his place as he looks at the energetic boy intensely. "I'm not your guy. If you haven't noticed, I don't exactly like you so I don't know why you are mouth-breathing in my area. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got things to do."
Just when he steps around Hayden, Hayden grabs his arm and whispers with a coy smile, "Not with that attitude, you don't."
"Excuse me?" Vincent scoffs in disbelief. He stares down at the hand on his arm with disdain.
Vincent isn't used to the touch of others, especially since his parents have never really been affectionate people. He despises the hand on his arm, but in a way, it's a nice surprise.
"Easy," Hayden shrugs. "I'll give you something to do."
"Whaâ"
Hayden maneuvers Vincent's stiff hand into a handshake before saying, "Hayden, I would just absolutely love for you to come over to my house. As a matter of fact, I beg of it because I'm going through my moody phase before I'm even a teen."
Vincent, feeling annoyed by Hayden's inaccurate description of him, opens his mouth to say something but never gets the chance because Hayden is accepting the offer that didn't even come from his own mouth.
"Oh my gosh, it would be an honor," he grins happily. "Lead the way, Vinny."
"Don't call me that," he grumbles before picking up his pace, hoping to lose Hayden.
Hayden, however, happily skips at his side. All that matters to him at this point is that Vincent hasn't once pointed out one of his insecurities to make him feel down about himself and go away because that's all anyone seems to know how to do these days. It may be the bare minimum, but Hayden is ecstatic about learning from the seemingly grouchy kid.
When Vincent is standing on the doorstep of his home, he scowls as he unlocks the door and realizes that Hayden is still behind him. More than anything, though, Hayden really just wanted a place to go that wasn't his own desolate house.
However, when they walk in, Hayden discovers that the house is just as silent as his own.
As Hayden gets lost in trying to discover his new friend's house, he is shocked when he is yanked back by his backpack. Vincent gives him a stern look before pointing to the corner where a pile of shoes is at the entrance.
Hayden feels flustered as he realizes that he was supposed to take his shoes off when he entered the house.
"S-Sorry," he whispers hastily.
Vincent just rolls his eyes before clamping his hands down on Hayden's shoulders and guiding him to his room. Does Vincent actually want to take Hayden to his room? Not exactly, but it's the only place he can expect him to behave in his parents' prim household.
Speaking of his parents, Vincent is relieved that they are either sleeping or just not greeting him because on the small occasion that he has people over, if they don't seem like they are influencing Vincent in a good way, then they expect him to cut them off. Weirdly enough, even after their first day of meeting, Vincent doesn't want that for Hayden...as annoying as he is.
Vincent urges Hayden into his room and says, "Stay here for a second."
"Butâ"
Vincent closes the door in his face.
Vincent immediately trudges down the hall to his sibling's room. He is sure to check on them every day after school, and sometimes, he reads them a story.
However, when he walks into the room, he is surprised when they are both peacefully sleeping in their cribs. He smiles to himself before tucking both Valerie and Vance in since they seemed to have kicked the blankets off in their sleep. When Valerie begins to stir, Vincent gently comforts her by putting her pacifier in her mouth and bringing her teddy bear closer. And just like that, the baby is settled.
The baby monitor in the corner tells Vincent that at least one of his parents is most definitely home but he's sure that they are tired from hovering over his shoulder twenty-four-seven.
"So you are a nice person after all?" Hayden smugly says from the doorway.
"And you don't know how to listen," he huffs, dragging him out of the room after he quietly shuts the nursery door.
"Are you usually this...grouchy?" Hayden asks curiously as Vincent's hand on his tightens.
"Are you usually this stupid and invasive and infuriating andâ"
"Yes," Hayden answers innocently.
Caught off guard by Hayden's response, Vincent barks out a laugh but immediately covers it up with a cough.
"Ha!" Hayden exclaims as they finally walk back through Vincent's room. "I got you!"
Vincent's grumpy visage persists as he throws himself on the bed. Hayden briefly looks around his room in wonder, ignoring the heat of Vincent's eyes on his back.
"Sorry," Hayden randomly says. "Am I being too pushy?"
"Wow, you actually have a brain," Vincent mumbles, scrolling through his phone.
Hayden's shoulders slouch as he heads to the door. Vincent immediately perks up.
"Where are you going?"
"Home," Hayden answers.
"Why?"
"Because you obviously don't want me here."
Vincent does want him to stay. Although he is pretty annoying and way too talkative, Vincent didn't realize it before, but he likes his company. He's not very good at expressing himself, though.
Instead, Vincent chucks his television remote at the guy. He must've underestimated Hayden's coordination, though, because it nails him in the head.
"Ow," Hayden whines. "Jeez, I got the message. I'm going."
When Hayden's hand is on the doorknob, Vincent finally says, "Do you want to watch something?"
Hayden looks at him hopefully. "Are you sure?"
"Don't make me say it again," Vincent answers, rolling his eyes.
Hayden can't hide the smile on his face when he picks up the remote and throws himself on the bed next to his new friend. He burrows into Vincent's side as he turns on a show, causing the black-haired boy to scowl.
"You need to learn personal space," Vincent chides, shoving him over.
Hayden laughs off the statement, feeling content with being over at someone's house for the first time. Vincent may not be as excited as he is about the newly budding friendship, but he too is grateful to have someone to hang out with.
After the two watch TV for a few hours, Vincent unexpectedly hears his name called from deep within the house.
"Vincent!"
"Crap," Vincent mutters, scrambling off his bed.
"What?" Hayden says, confused.
"You have to go," he speaks.
"Vincent?! Are you studying?!" His mom, Ana, calls out in her mother tongue.
Vincent grabs Hayden's arm and clumsily pulls him off the bed.
"What are youâ"
"Shh," Vincent whispers, urging him toward the window.
"Are you being serious?" Hayden whispers harshly.
"I'll return your shoes tomorrow," Vincent says innocently, pushing him out of the cracked window.
Hayden just barely manages to grab a stack of sticky notes and a pen before he is slipping on the slick window ledge and landing face-first in the bushes below.
"Vincent!"
Vincent stifles a laugh as he slams the window shut and carelessly throws a journal on his desk. He turns the TV off, opens to a random notebook page, and starts writing gibberish.
He twirls around in his chair when the door bursts open.
"Vincent, why didn't you answer when I called the first time?" His mom says sternly from the doorway with his little brother, Vance, blubbering in her arms.
"Sorry, Ma," he says with fake apology. "I was just finishing up with my notes."
She nods in surprised approval. "Keep at it. Dinner will be ready soon."
Vincent nods before she shuts the door and he is melting into his seat with relief. He runs a tired hand through his hair and practically jumps out of his seat when a hand slams a sticky note on the outside of his window.
Scribbled on the note is Hayden's number as well as an annoyed message for the amount of thorns now tangled in his shirt.
Vincent can't help but laugh to himself when he sees the shoeless boy walk away from the premises. Hayden practically has a skip in his step, and Vincent can't help the smile etched on his face at someone so bizarre.
Neither one of them knew it then, but it was the start of a beautiful friendship.