“Bilbo, lad, do come in,” Principal Gandalf welcomed, gesturing to a chair in front of his desk with a warm smile. Bilbo did as he was told, giving a small nod to the headmaster. He quickly glanced around at all the degrees and pictures that adorned the book shelves, desk, and wall space. His eyes skittered around the room, his nerves quickly taking over. It was only the third week of school. Why Bilbo should be asked to go to the principal’s office, without scheduling the meeting himself, was quite strange.
“So, Mister Baggins,” Principal Gandalf called cheerily, smiling down at Bilbo as he placed his hands on the desk. “I’m under the impression that you’re wanting to graduate this year with our class of 2016. Is that correct?” Bilbo nodded with his own smile.
“Uh, yes! Yes, with my classes I have this semester, I’ll be able to graduate this upcoming May.” Bilbo was very proud to say that. If he had stayed in the grade he was supposed to be in, then he was technically a sophomore, but due to his wonderful brain, he had managed to skip 6th and 7th grade.
He had loved going to Hobbiton High School, even if some of the people there were the same gossiping, back-stabbing people Bilbo despised. Bilbo knew you always had people like that no matter where you went, it just felt like their little gated community had a knack for breeding people like that. But over the summer, two years ago, the school districts changed their boundaries, and thanks to his lovely home lying on the outskirts of The Shire’s community, Bilbo switched to Erebor High.
Erebor High was alright - school was school. There were some nice people that Bilbo had classes with, and some had become his dear friends. Of course, some of the best bonds were forged by shared hatred over things. Teachers, the massive amounts of busy work they had, and all the tests they had to endure were plentiful to hate.
“I’ve already applied to Middle Earth University. I’m just awaiting a response.” His smile slowly slipped from his face, replaced by a frown that would have made his Aunt Lobelia proud - a feat for anyone who knew the miserable woman.
“Hmn, I see,” Principal Gandalf sighed, clearing his throat as he shifted some papers around. Bilbo’s own smile faded a little at the look on the man’s face. “Unfortunately, a complication in your transcript has come to my attention,” informed Principal Gandalf. Bilbo felt his eyes widened in concern, his face blank of all emotion.
Complication?! he thought, his mind racing over test scores, grades, and classes he had taken. He had taken all the tests he needed to. The lowest grade he had ever gotten was an A at 96 percent. All the classes that were required of him, he’d taken.
Economics, Government, Physics, Chemistry, Biology, Algebra, Facts/Statistics/Trigonometry, Calculus, English, and even Health! Most of those classes had been an IB class, or they were the classes that were not required, but still looked good to colleges. Classes like art, choir, American Sign Language, Child’s Psych, Human Anatomy, Physical Universe, Public Speaking, Digital Photography, Enriched Sociology, and a freaking foods class!
What the hell am I missing?!
“It appears you are missing a physical education credit.”
“Now, in order for you to earn that credit, you must take a gym class.” Silence. Absolute silence.
Bilbo sat in the chair in utter… Well, Bilbo didn’t really know how to describe how he felt. Principal Gandalf stared at Bilbo expectantly, leaving Bilbo even more flabbergasted than he was.
“Um, but I can’t,” Bilbo said helplessly. It was true. First off, Bilbo did not want to take a gym class. He couldn’t gym! Gym class meant physical exercise and playing sports that Bilbo didn’t know how to do. He didn't sport!
Second of all, it meant changing in front of dirty sweaty boys, and he would be damned before being told that he needed to get undressed in front of a bunch of smelly sweaty guys that he didn’t know. He had values. No one was seeing any bit of him till they bought him a meal, and even then there were rules. Plus, Bilbo wasn’t the skinniest person. He knew he wasn’t the fattest person. He was pretty fit… ish. He could at least see his feet when he bent over. But, he still had his insecurities over his body.
Of course, he couldn’t say all this to Principal Gandalf - he couldn’t say ANY of this to him!
“I mean,” Bilbo said, racking his brain for a sensible excuse, his brain actually blessing him with one. “I don’t have any space in my schedule for a gym class. Or any class!” Principal Gandalf nodded, staring at a piece of paper in his hands that Bilbo could only guess was his schedule. “Um,” Bilbo hummed, an idea popping into his head of something his old school used to do. “I could take an online gym class,” Bilbo offered, loving the sound of it already. He could fake all of it! If they wanted pictures, he could dress up! Pour some water around his collar to imitate sweat. Have a treadmill run - without him on it - and take a photo of the screen. It’s not like they would ever know! Bilbo was loving the sound of an online gym class.
But, to his horror, Principal Gandalf gave a small shake of his head, completely shattering Bilbo’s hopes.
“I’m afraid we don’t allow online credits at this school,” he explained. Bilbo felt his heart drop out of his butt.
Why the hell not?! Bilbo sat there helplessly again, his hands outstretched as if to grasp something. Maybe wring someone’s neck. Bilbo wasn’t sure what he was going to do at this point.
“However,” he said, catching Bilbo’s attention. “I have come up with an alternative plan.” Principal Gandalf leaned back in his chair, placing his hands over his stomach thoughtfully. Bilbo eyed the headmaster carefully, trying to see where this was going as he let out a heavy sigh.
“Now, you may or may not know of the boy’s rugby team here at Erebor High. They are the top team in the nation for high school, and I am told they are not going to disappoint this year,” Principal Gandalf explained proudly. Bilbo felt his heart skip a beat.
“Uh, sir,” he struggled, frightened chuckles escaping him as he struggled to breath. “I-I can’t… I can’t play rugby!” Bilbo fumbled, shaking his head vigorously. He couldn’t play rugby. He would die! Apparently, the opinion was shared as Principal Gandalf let out a surprised laugh.
“No, no, of course you can’t!” Principal Gandalf rushed, sounding like the very idea of Bilbo playing rugby was ridiculous. Which, it was, but Bilbo was a little offended at the way he said it. “Our team doesn’t need anymore players,” he explained. “What we need is,” he mumbled mysteriously, his eyes shining as if he was about to say something absolutely magical and exciting. “A water boy.” Bilbo sat there in utter silence.
“What?” Principal Gandalf smiled.
“To earn all your credits, you can become the rugby team’s water boy.” Bilbo was now really considering dropping one of his classes. Maybe he could drop English? He cleared his throat, adjusting himself in the uncomfortable chair, in the very hot and uncomfortable office, with its uncomfortable yet nice principal who came up with uncomfortable solutions to a very unnecessary and uncomfortable problem.
“Let me see if I’m understanding correctly,” Bilbo stuttered. “You would like me to be a waterboy for a bunch of dirty sweaty high school brutes?” Principal Gandalf tilted his head back and forth in thought.
“Well, yes.” Principal Gandalf said with a small amused smile. ”Your position is vital.” Bilbo let out a snort, turning to look out the window where he began watching a bird flying in the sky. “Bilbo, lad,” Principal Gandalf called, causing him to turn back. “What do you know of the sport, rugby?” Bilbo blinked in surprise at the question, but shrugged his shoulders.
“Um, nothing.” Truth was all he knew was you wore no protective gear, you threw the ball backwards, and when you scored it was called a ‘try’. It wasn’t his fault though. Hobbiton High didn’t have a rugby team. No one wanted to play.
“But, you do know how vital water is for our bodies?” Principal Gandalf continued, glancing at Bilbo expectantly, the young man nodding. “On our own, our bodies require water. So, logically, when our bodies work harder, we require water more frequently to keep ourselves functioning.” Bilbo knew this. He had taken a Health class. Plus it was common sense. “Keeping that team hydrated and alive is an honor. Now,” Principal Gandalf said lowly, leaning over the desk, “will you be the waterboy for the rugby team, earn your gym credit so you can graduate, and help those boys win another trophy for our school?” Principal Gandalf added with a hint of mischievousness in his voice. Bilbo sighed, melting into the chair while deep in thought. He seemed to not have any other alternative option, and that settled it. After a small nod, Bilbo watched the principal grin, clapping his hands together.
“Excellent! Now, here’s the schedule for the team’s practices,” he explained, handing Bilbo a small packet of papers. “Our team is year round, so you’ve already missed a few practices, but it’s fine. They’re every other day, starting Mondays. They’re right after school on the upper field. Practices run from 3:30 to 6. There is a bus that leaves precisely at 6:10, so make sure to get there on time because it is the only one that goes through The Shire.” Bilbo nodded seriously, tucking away that bit of information to think about later.
“Now, Coach Beorn can be quite alarming when you first meet him,” Principal Gandalf admitted with a smile. “He played in the Rugby World Cup, twice, before he took an injury to the knee. He is very straightforward, and does not do well with goofing around, but he has brought home the state trophy every year since he started here five years ago.” Bilbo nodded, absolutely horrified for his first meeting with the coach. Principal Gandalf cleared his throat as he opened his desk drawer, fetching a pad of green colored passes, proceeding to write Bilbo’s name and the time on it.
“Mr. Durin is the assistant coach. All three of his children, along with ten of his nephews, play on our rugby teams. There are five other staff members that you will be introduced to, but Coach Beorn and Mr. Durin are the most important for now,” Principal Gandalf said with a smile, ripping the pass off and handing it to Bilbo. “I shall contact your counselor and make her aware of the changes we have made.” Bilbo took the pass from him, staying in his seat with a no doubt, perplexed look on his face. Noticing Bilbo still there, Principal Gandalf glanced at him in slight concern.
“Is there something else you would like to discuss?” Bilbo just sat there, feeling like a fish out of water as his mouth opened and closed numerous times before he finally shut it, shook his head, and got up to leave.
“Thank you,” he called over his shoulder, closing the door with a small click when the Principal gave a little goodbye. Bilbo stood there by the door, his brain replaying everything that had just happened.
Oh, shit, he thought with a start. I have to become an expert on rugby… by Monday! With a little jolt, he took off towards the library, hoping and begging that this school had at least one book on the blasted sport available.
“Bilbo!” Bilbo spun around in the hallway, firmly holding on to the three books on rugby that he had managed to find. Being the height Bilbo was, it was quite a pain in the ass to try and see over all the bustling students, but eventually he saw Ori’s ginger head pop up over the sea of people. Bilbo smiled brightly at the sight of his best friend, moving over to the side of the fiendish freshmen that seemed keen on hogging up the entire hallway.
“Ugh, Bilbo,” Ori sighed tiredly, nodding towards the main doors for them to keep going. “I cannot tell you how happy I am that it’s the weekend! I don’t think I can handle another day of Mr. Radagast talking about his precious trips to the woods where he saw the same damn bird from his last trip!” Bilbo chuckled, knowing full well how Mr. Radagast was when it came to bird watching.
“Anyways,” Ori breathed in the fresh air as the two exited the building, making their way to Ori’s gold 1993 Toyota Camry. Ori tended to park in the back of the parking lot. His reasoning behind it being that it gave him peace of mind knowing that if there was ever a bomb at school, his car would be safe given how far away the blasted thing was. Bilbo tried to point out the few flaws in Ori’s plan, but given that Ori happily drove him home instead of making Bilbo ride the bus for 55 minutes, he decided it was best to drop the subject.
Ori scowled after a car that passed them too quickly, muttering under his breath ever so loudly that Bilbo could hear, “jackass.” Ori turned to him with a smile, readjusting his own textbooks in his arms.
“Hey, where did you go for the rest of seventh hour?” he asked. “I know Tom-Bomb said that you had a meeting with Principal Gandalf, but I’ve been dying to hear what happened.” Bilbo nodded.
“Well, so Mr. Bombador… Bombidor… Bombildo?”
“Hehe. Dildo,” Ori giggled, giving his head a little shake in amusement. “It’s Bom-ba-dil,” Ori helped, enunciating his name while taking his keys out of his pocket. “But just call him Tom-Bomb - everyone else does,” he grunted, leaning down to pop the trunk. Bilbo tossed his backpack in while Ori threw in his briefcase.
“I still feel like it’s weird that everyone’s okay using ‘bomb’ as a nickname,” Bilbo mumbled, slamming the trunk door down as Ori went to turn the car on.
“No, it’s ‘bomb’ like ‘he’s the bomb’,” Ori explained for the hundredth time now. “It’s a good thing!” Bilbo hopped in the car, clicking his seatbelt into place as he shook his head.
“I still don’t get it.” Ori let out a little snort, shaking his head at his friend even as Bilbo threw his hands out. “Anyways! Principal Gandalf told me that I’m one gym credit short and if I can’t get it throughout this school year, then I’m not graduating this spring.”
“Huh - oh no!” Ori gasped, his mouth wide open as he stared at Bilbo in horror. “What are you going to do?”
“Well, my first thought was to pray for a heart attack that puts me in a coma for the rest of the school year so then I don’t have to deal with any of it,” he huffed, earning a little snort from his friend as he pulled out of his parking spot, doing his best to beat the rest of the after school traffic. “But instead I was told of an option that makes me want to throw myself off the tallest building in all of Erebor.”
“If your goal is death, I wouldn’t get my hopes up,” Ori said with mock sympathy. “I think the tallest building is the casino and that’s only four stories.”
“A swan dive off the roof, perhaps?” Ori shook his head, his smile still there though he waved him on.
“Enough. We have a pact and I can’t die anytime soon,” he stated, a grin growing as he glanced Bilbo’s way. “Nori has his first game as captain next week.” Bilbo nodded furiously, waving his hands about rather frantically as he stumbled to speak.
“That’s what I’m trying to say! Gandalf’s bright idea to solve my missing gym credit was to make me the water boy for the rugby team,” he explained. Ori gasped, an excited gleam in his eyes as he glanced his way.
“Oh, that means we get to go to the games together!”
“I don’t want that!” Bilbo cried, earning a laugh from his friend. They sat waiting for an opening to get into the lane out of the parking lot. Bilbo didn’t have high hopes, most of the kids never let people in. “I don’t know anything about the sport - I don’t even know what it means to be a water boy other than giving the brutes water!”
“I think that’s really it,” Ori assured him. “You’ll run out onto the pitch when they have breaks and just make sure all the bottles are filled.”
“I have to run out there?!” Bilbo demanded, gawking like a fish as he glanced around. “What if I get tackled while on the field because some beefed up bimbo doesn’t realize that it’s break time or that I’m not actually playing?!”
“I’ll make sure to get the footage from Nori if that happens,” Ori chuckled, laughing even harder at the murderous glare he instantly received. “But it won’t. I know a lot of the guys on the team - they’re great!” Bilbo nodded, sighing in his seat as he gazed out the window.
“I know. I just don’t want to do it at all.”
“I wouldn’t either, but if you want, I can come and sit with you on the bench during games,” Ori offered, sending him a small smile. “I’m going to be there anyways, and mom can’t come as much as she’d like to. But, then I wouldn’t be sitting alone.” Bilbo’s problems suddenly became very miniscule at the mention of Ori’s mom, Isla. He watched Ori carefully.
“How is your mom?” There was the slightest twitch of his mouth, his lips pulling down in a frown before he took a steadying breath.
“She’s feeling good. She had a rough week last week, but she’s bounced back some.” Bilbo gave a little nod. Ori rarely liked talking about his mom’s condition, and Bilbo didn’t feel it was right to push him on it.
“That’s good. Well, if you want to be in the stinky trenches with me, then by all means. I’ll even save you a seat,” he joked, smiling as he was rewarded with a laugh.
“I think you forget that the trenches come home with me after,” Ori reminded, shaking his head as yet another car refused to let him in. “I’m just glad Nori’s finally wearing deodorant this year.”
“Ugh, see! What a horrible sentence,” Bilbo groaned, a foul expression on his face even as Ori laughed again. “‘Finally wearing deodorant’ - I mean, come on!”
“At least you don’t live with it.” Just then, an old pickup truck in the line stopped. Bilbo knew who it was, even if he didn’t have Ori’s little whispered, “Dwalin,” right next to him. Bilbo watched as the gruff senior waved Ori in, only nodding once when Ori waved back. Bilbo decided not to mention how frantic he sounded as he said thank you over and over again.
“So, remind me again why you’re not together?” Bilbo demanded, watching Ori shake his head, a sad sigh escaping him as he drove through the lane.
“Because there’s no way he likes me.”
“Well, you and I know that’s just absolute bull shit,” he stated, pointedly ignoring the affronted sound Ori made.
“I’m being serious, Bilbo. He’s known me since I was… eleven? I mean, I’m sure he thinks of me as that same annoying kid, plus, he’s my step-brother’s cousin.”
“Ah, but not your cousin,” Bilbo made a point of saying, even though Ori was shrugging.
“I mean, no. Not technically.”
“That’s a big technicality, Ori!” Bilbo couldn’t help but point out. “One that really matters.”
“But it still feels weird! I mean, he’s cousin’s with my first cousin once removed?” he questioned, staring up in the mirror in confusion. “Or are they my second cousins? I don’t know, but it all still feels close.”
“But all the relations are through marriage, Ori!” Bilbo scolded. “Not by blood! If it was by blood then I wouldn’t even be amusing you, but you two have something.” Ori sighed again, giving a little shake of his head as he glanced in the mirror.
“I don’t know. I just get worried.”
“What?” Bilbo feigned shock, earning a soft glare from his friend as he kept up his teasing. “You? Worried? About Dwalin?!”
“Shut up!” Bilbo couldn’t help but laugh then.
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry, but come on, Ori. I actually have relatives who decided to stay within some family branches and let me tell you,” he stated, waving a finger Ori’s way. “I have not been able to look at any of them the same since. Thankfully they’re also distant so I don’t have to, but this is different! You guys aren’t related - at all - and you like each other.” Ori’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, his eyes glancing back up in the mirror.
“He let you go in front of him in line,” he said, earning a scathing scoff as Ori laughed.
“That doesn’t mean anything!”
“Ori, I have seen you point out other members of your family and friends as they drive past us. None of them let you in - least of all Nori. But Dwalin lets you in every. Single. Time.” Ori scoffed again, but Bilbo could see his mind processing that observation. Ori was someone who needed reassurance - needed to be told that the little things he was picking up on were not just made up in his head.
“Well… ugh, I don’t know!”
“Here, next time you see him,” Bilbo called, lifting his hands up and making a squishing motion. “You just grab him by the face and kiss him.” Ori burst into horrified giggles.
“Could you imagine?” he cried, shaking his head furiously while his cheeks became beet red. “I could never!” And he would never, but that’s why Bilbo said it. It was so absurd, that he knew it wouldn’t stay with Ori and continue to overwork his mind with ridiculous possibilities.
They finally got to the exit, waiting to turn left when the car next to them gave a quick honk. They both turned, watching Nori leaning out of the driver’s side window as best he could from the copilot seat. He was waving for Ori to roll his down. With a sigh, Ori rolled Bilbo’s window down.
“What?” he called out, giving a little wave to Bofur who was driving and giving him a cheerful wave in return.
“Where are you headed?” Nori demanded.
“I’m dropping Bilbo off at his house but we were probably going to hang out and study. Why?”
“It’s Friday,” he simply stated, whipping behind to look out his own window at the person who had honked at them. Bofur took over the conversation with a smile.
“Family dinner at the Durin’s.”
“Oh, I forgot about that,” Ori groaned, glancing at Bilbo curiously before his eyes lit up. “Can I bring Bilbo?” Nori leaned back in the car and shrugged, looking absolutely unbothered.
“I don’t give a shit,” he said, glancing back out again when the honking became more aggressive. He shook Bofur’s entire car as he crawled out of the window, his entire top half hanging out of the car as he shouted at the other driver. “Dwalin! Stop fucking honking!”
“Move out of the way!” Dwalin bellowed, leaning out of his own truck to yell back, but Nori wasn’t done.
“I’m trying to talk to my dearest younger brother, you giant douche!”
“He’s not the problem here, ass hat!” Bilbo couldn’t help but glance at Ori, though Ori pointedly ignored him. Bilbo still caught the little blush that was creeping up his neck.
“Just shut up!” Nori climbed back into the car again, shaking his head all while Bofur laughed. “You’re more than welcome to dinner, Bilbo,” he confirmed, Bofur nodding beside him. Bilbo blinked in surprise. Nori had always been kind to him, but Bilbo could count on one hand the amount of times he directly spoke to him.
“Uh, thanks! I just have to text my parents.” Nori nodded, poorly ignoring the honking from behind.
“Right on. Then Ori, just head over to Uncle Thain’s. Bofur and I - for the love of!” he raged, crawling back out of the truck window to jab at Dwalin. “One more time, Dwalin, and I’m gonna shove that horn straight up your ass!”
“Not before I shove my foot up yours!” Dwalin honked a few more times for good measure, which only set Nori off some more as he scrambled back out the window again, waving his pointer finger in warning.
“You keep it up and I’m gonna have Bofur reverse into your stupid truck!” Nori told him, but his threat was rather lackluster with Bofur already shaking his head. Bilbo noticed that his smile never left, even as he leaned over to talk to Ori. He was a rather charming guy.
“We have to run to my house to pick up a few salads my ma forgot. By the time we get there and back, Bombur and Dis should be getting out of practice so I’ll swing by and grab them.”
“It’s called rehearsal in the theater,” Ori corrected him, glancing back at his brother and Dwalin who were still in a heated battle. Dwalin had decided honking was no longer enough, laying on his horn for one singular irritating sound. Nori fought back, unscrewing the lid from his water bottle in order to throw his water onto the hood and windshield of Dwalin’s truck. The amount of profanities that spewed from Dwalin afterwards was barely audible over the honk.
“Ah, it all means the same thing,” Bofur waved him off, before pointing at them both. “But we’ll see you guys at dinner. Sit your ass back down!” Bofur called to Nori who was reaching for Bofur’s water bottle now. “Bye guys!” And with that, Bofur drove away, Nori still half out his window as he and Dwalin flipped each other off. Just as Dwalin was pulling up beside them, Ori took his chance to leave too. Bilbo couldn’t help but glance back at Dwalin, noticing the senior watch them go with a rather pathetic look on his face.
“Awe,” Bilbo cooed, turning back in his seat to sit properly.
“What, what’s wrong,” Ori asked, turning down another street towards the gas station.
“He looks sad you left without saying goodbye,” Bilbo stated, Ori shaking his head. “I think he started crying.”
“You’re delusional.” Ori turned down the next street, the soft music playing in the background as they drove. “Sorry to invite you to the family dinner like that,” Ori winced, glancing his way as he headed for the gas station. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to, but I thought this would be a good way for you to meet all my family. Especially since you’re joining the team.”
“No, it’ll be fun,” Bilbo reassured him. “I just don’t want to be intruding or anything like that.” Ori was already shaking his head.
“You wouldn’t be at all,” he promised. “There’s a lot of us, and I’ll draw a diagram when we get to the gas station to help you out.”
“A diagram?” Bilbo asked, glancing out the window anxiously. “How many people go to these?”
“Um,” Ori hummed, thinking it over as he counted under his breath. “I’d say, anywhere from twenty-five to thirty?” Bilbo’s eyes bulged so painfully he thought they were trying to make an escape.
“Give or take, ya. But, today’s kind of special. Bofur’s older brother Bifur’s in town. He’s a Marine, and he has a quick leave before his next deployment so Grandpa Thror wanted a family dinner before he left.” He thought about it. “If it makes you feel better, I think Oin’s bringing his boyfriend tonight and none of us have met him yet - well, besides Gloin,” he corrected himself. “But that means you won’t be the only newcomer, so this’ll be good!” Bilbo gave as much of a smile as he could, thinking about his upcoming evening.
