Chapter Text
Simon didn’t take the bus to school. He didn’t take the Tube, either. It was not that his school was near, Simon just liked to walk. Maybe Simon had developed an aversion to public transportation through many years of ridiculous and dreadful Summer Camps.
Simon loved school. Not the lessons. He loved just… being there. There was something magical about Watford’s School that filled Simon’s heart and made him feel at home. That was the only thing Simon had in common with his adoptive father, David Snow—Headmaster of Watford’s School.
Simon loved school so much, so much, he had to mentally prepare himself every day before going there. He’d walk slowly, gradually recalling all the things he loved about school—gradually forgetting all the things he hated about his home.
He’d think about Penny, his best friend. About Agatha, his girlfriend. Because they were still together, right? The last time Simon had seen Agatha was at the party at the end of last school year. Simon had been drinking spiked punch and hardly remembered anything. He had flashes of Penny carrying him home. Of Agatha holding hands with Baz.
The next day his father sent him to Summer Camp, so he hadn’t been able to talk to his friends since then—no phones allowed at Summer Camp.
Fuck Summer Camps. Next summer Simon would already be eighteen, meaning he would legally be able to move out for good. Where, he didn’t care. Anywhere was better than living with his father.
After a long horrible summer with idiotic teenagers whose only expectations in life ranged from reaching second base with their girlfriends to avoid burning their tongues while eating s’mores—not that Simon didn’t actually burn his tongue while eating s’mores—today was the first day of his last year at Watford.
Watford School was composed of two adjacent buildings: Watford High and Watford College. Simon and his friends started today the second—and last—year at Watford College, which wasn’t compulsory but almost every student at Watford High continued their studies at Watford College.
Watford School hosted two parties along the school year: one at the beginning, and one at the end. So, today was Simon’s last Reception Party.
“Simon!” He didn’t have time to turn around before a pair of round arms embraced him into a tight hug.
“Penny!” It was so good to see her again. It was so good to be back. “How was your summer?”
“It was amazing, Simon! Chicago is so beautiful! And Micah even taught me some Spanish,sabes?” Penny would go on for hours talking about her boyfriend, but she stopped, knowing that Simon’s summers were shit. “Anyway,” she added, “how was yours?”
“Oh, peachy. We went fishing and sang classic summer camp songs around a bonfire at night, while someone played the guitar.”
“Oh God, Simon. Was it that bad?”
“Some of the boys even danced, Penny.” It was not that Simon didn’t like music and dancing--quite the opposite--it was that he didn't like the kind of people who went on Summer Camps. Penelope grimaced. When it came to dancing--and practically everything--Penny was excessively judgemental. Penelope danced like nobody else, and she knew it. In fact, she met her boyfriend at a salsa dancing class. “Yeah,” said Simon. “Tell me more about Micah, how is he?”
Penny went on talking about her boyfriend and her holidays in America until they reached the Assembly Hall where the Reception Party was held. A lot of the students were already there but Simon couldn’t spot neither of the two particular heads that had been in his mind all summer. Where were Agatha and Baz? Were they together, making out in an empty corridor? The mere thought disgusted Simon. Agatha was still his girlfriend. And Baz was a tosser.
Basilton “Baz” Pitch was the obnoxious git who was assigned to sit beside Simon since first year at Watford High. Simon hated everything about him: his long dark hair slicked back, dark grey eyeliner matching his stormy eyes, his black nails forever accompanied by a cigarette when he wasn’t on school grounds, his dark jeans slightly ripped at the knees, his black boots, his irritating smugly composure… Simon could spend all day thinking about the things he hated about Baz. Like the fact that he always played the violin at the Reception Parties. Flawlessly, like everything he did. But today he was nowhere to be seen.
“Simon,” Penny whispered beside him. “Stop looking for Agatha, she’s already up front, ready to sing.”
Agatha sang at Watford’s chorus. She was very self-conscious about her voice but, somehow, being surrounded by other singers gave her courage to perform. Simon thought her voice was like her aspect—heavenly.
The first day at school consisted basically in the Reception Party. Students performed in front of everyone, some—like Baz and Agatha—played music, others recited poetry and there was even this guy, Gareth, who prepared a short comedy show.
At the end of the party, everybody went home to get ready for the next day, when the classes started. Simon didn’t have the opportunity to talk to Agatha at all, she was too busy with all her activities.
xxx
The following day, he sent Agatha a text to meet up between classes. What was he going to tell her, though? Did he still want to be her boyfriend? Yes. They were meant to be together. He was just going to tell her that everything was okay between them.
They met at the school’s cafe. Simon loved Watford’s cafeteria. They had the best cherry scones in London.
They sat silently for a while, avoiding each other’s eyes. Agatha sipped at her tea, and Simon ate his scones.
“Simon…” Agatha finally said. “What you saw at last year’s party…”
“No,” Simon cut her. “I didn’t see anything. I don’t remember anything, I was pretty wasted.”
“Simon,” Agatha insisted. “I don’t think I want to be with you right now…”
“Agatha, but we’re meant for each other!”
“Simon.” She let out a breath. “We’re not meant for anything. That’s exactly why I can’t be with you now.”
“But—”
“I’m sorry.”
Simon saw her leave, unable to say anything else. Unable to move until some time afterwards.
xxx
Simon had never been single. Well, of course he had been single when he was a kid, but that didn’t count. Since the first moment he met Agatha he had known they were destined to be together. She was perfect. She was the prettiest girl in school. And Simon was the most popular boy. Everything was bound to go right. But Baz happened. He always had to ruin everything.
What did Agatha see in him? It had to be just a phase. If Agatha saw Simon with another person, she would reconsider.
It was the perfect solution—he had to find a fake partner. It should be easy, considering the amount of girls that actively showed affection towards Simon. But Simon needed someone whom he could trust not to spill it all.
Penny would be the perfect candidate. If it weren’t for Micah. Rhys could do the job, too, but Simon recalled him saying he had someone he wanted to ask out, given time. Gareth simply appalled Simon. He was a decent guy, but Simon couldn’t stand the odd pelvis movements he so often happened to make.
Simon hoped he had more girl friends. But he only had Penny. And Agatha? He had to check that. And maybe Trixie and Keris. But they were out of the question, as everybody knew they were together.
And where was Baz in all of this? He had put him into that situation and had keenly slipped out of it. Of course, he may be kidnapped somewhere or even murdered, but still. Simon would have believed it if he’d done it on purpose.
xxx
October came and Simon was still single. And Baz was still missing. Not that Simon missed him. He was just wondering what he was planning to ruin Simon’s year even more.
It was good not to have an annoying presence beside him at class, for once. And there was no way Simon missed the poshy pens that he borrowed from Baz from time to time. He didn’t miss having him do all the work at partner exercises, either. Or copying his math problems. Well, maybe he did miss that.
Simon had looked for Baz everywhere in school grounds, in case he was hiding without his father’s permission. He had even searched in the park in front of the school. Without any success. This wasn’t funny anymore. Where the fuck was Baz?
One day, Simon cornered one of Baz’s friends, Niall, to inquire about Baz’s whereabouts.
“Where is he?” he demanded.
“Who?”
“Baz.”
“I don’t know,” Niall replied. “Why are you looking for him? You’re not even friends.”
“None of your business,” Simon said. “If you’re lying to me…”
“Fuck you, Snow. I don’t know where he is. Neither does Dev. Just leave us alone.”
Simon reluctantly let go of him.
If his best friends didn’t know where he was, how was Simon supposed to find him? He needed him to help him with the Agatha problem. Which he created. That tosser wouldn’t get out of this so easily.
xxx
Simon went through all of the school area at least twice that day before settling for the roof. It was his favourite place. Sometimes he brought some sour cherry scones and tea and just sat there looking at the sky. He especially liked to go there at night, particularly those nights when his dad decided to stay at home. And today was one of those nights.
It was so dark he almost couldn’t see the strange figure sitting against the wall, if it weren’t for the smoke coming out of their mouth. Who had the nerve to come to school, at night, to smokeon the roof?
Baz.
Of course.
“You can’t smoke on school grounds.”
Baz looked up at him, uninterested. “What? Are you going to run and tell your father?” He asked, defiantly. “Or are you asking because you are concerned about my health?” Baz smirked.
“I’m not your mother. Sure, smoke, kill yourself. Whatever.” It had only been a matter of seconds and Baz had already managed to irritate Simon. That had to be a record or something, even for them. “Where have you been?”
“Since when do you care?”
“I don’t.”
Baz smirked again. “What are you doing here, Snow?”
“Agatha broke up with me,” he found himself saying. What? Why was he telling him that? Because he was the one to blame, right. “You have to help me find someone to date.”
Baz’s eyebrows quirked up in surprise. “What did you just say?” He schooled his features and added, “You must have gone mental if you think I’m going to help you with your love life.”
“I need someone to pretend to be my new partner and make Agatha jealous,” Simon said. “Plus, it’s all your fault. I saw you two holding hands last year.”
“So?”
“I think she now likes you better than me,” Simon mumbled.
“Yeah, ‘cause my hands are that irresistible. Sure, Snow.” There was a glint in Baz’s eyes that told Simon he was having fun with all this. “Anyway, the answer’s still no.”
“Are you coming back to classes?”
“Eh? Why do you care?”
“You have until tomorrow at breakfast to think about it. Give me an answer then.”
“What do I win with all of this?”
“Clean your name?” Simon suggested.
“Try harder.” Baz threw his now finished cigarette on the floor and it almost landed on Simon’s shoe.
“You’re not okay,” Simon said, out of the blue.
“What would you know?”
“I can see it in your face. You have problems. I can help you.” Simon looked at Baz’s eyes and knew that he was right. “If you help me.”
“No,” Baz said. But it wasn’t convincing. Simon wasn’t fooled.
“Remember. Tomorrow. Breakfast,” Simon said before leaving.
xxx
The following day Simon couldn’t stop thinking about Baz. Would he accept the offer and help him? Who would he suggest as Simon’s fake date? Simon hoped it was neither Niall nor Dev, he detested them.
But breakfast came and went and Baz still was nowhere to be seen. Maybe Simon had overestimated his persuasion skills.
After the morning classes, Simon met Penny for lunch at the school’s canteen. He spent all the time thinking about Baz, he barely ate anything—which was an alarming sign that Simon decided to ignore. At the end of lunch, all hope that Simon might have had was already gone. Why did he hope Baz would say yes in the first place?
“Simon Snow.”
Simon had been too busy thinking about last night’s encounter to see the boy entering the school’s canteen and going straight where Simon and Penny were. All eyes were on Simon.
Someone cleared his voice, in front of him. Simon looked up. “Huh?”
“Snow,” Baz said. “I won’t say this twice, so you’d better listen for once in your life.” Baz looked like he was about to slap him. Should he be prepared to dodge him? Should he slap him first, just in case? But Baz continued, “Will you go out with me?”