run rabbit run

  hey boo! my name's atticus and that's, like, two 'to kill a mockingbird' references i've just made there. i mean, so i've heard... stay in school, kids.  

[nvmatticus-blog]

TEXT: DARREN

Atticus: happy bday boo! xxxxxxxx

[nvmatticus-blog]

.akaamy:

Amelia didn’t like to think of herself as a particularly nosy person, nor did she ever like to intrude on other peoples’ business. She often teased Finn and Atticus, certain that the two belonged together and should pursue something more than just their friendship, but she never liked to push her luck and wouldn’t dare make either of them uncomfortable. In fact, even her own role in the football and cheer squad’s scheme to push Laura and Christian together – which had, much to her own dismay, involved bailing on a disappointed Laura – had filled her with guilt. One thing she took pride in regarding both instances, however, was the good intent that laid behind those actions. Her teasing of both Finn and Atticus, as well as Laura and Christian, came from a place of love, and her own desire to see her friends happy.

Now, while she stood tall behind that very sentiment, and took pride in her morals, that didn’t ease the pang of remorse that coursed through her in that same moment. In all the time that she had known Finn – which, given their close bond, felt like forever – and had listened to him gush about Atticus within every aspect of his life, and within the much shorter time that she’d actually known Attie herself, it had only recently occurred to her just how little she knew about his home and personal life.

Not that it was any of her business, of course.

Quite frankly, she had no place sticking her nose in where it wasn’t needed, but she worried a frightful amount about her friends. Having concocted such a bizarre and unconventional friendship with Wardo, and after hearing odd snippets here and there from his life on the streets – as well as the conditions that both he and his friend Ivy had endured – she had been unable to shake the sadness that accompanied such knowledge. In all honesty, nothing truly terrified her more than to think of the people that she loved in any sort of a difficult situation, which of course brought her to her current situation.

Just two days before she’d been spending her time with her two favourite boys – Atticus having come along to support her and Finn at one of their swim meets and then joining them for milkshakes after – when, as he had on their first meeting, Atticus had propped his snapback onto the top of Amelia’s head while Finn took a silly photo of the two of them together. At the time, she’d giggled and wrapped her arms around Attie’s neck, placing a sweet kiss onto his cheek. It had been all too fun, and she’d found herself a little disappointed to have to say goodnight to them both. Of course, the second Atticus had gone along on his merry way, she’d realised that she still had his hat, and had hugged Finn goodbye and gone racing after him. Atticus having had a head start, Amelia found herself zig-zagging after him, crossing streets she hadn’t ever stepped foot on in all her life. When she’d finally found herself on a rather deserted street – with street lamps flickering overheard, and no sign of Atticus entering any of the buildings nearby – Amelia decided that perhaps it was time to go home and try another day, or perhaps just wait until she saw Atticus next.

Unfortunately, the next morning her own curiosity had won over her own sense of morality and basic human decency, and she’d found herself unintentionally veering away from her usual path that her morning jog took her on, landing herself in the same neighbourhood she’d stood in just the night before – only this time there were birds chirping and she didn’t feel quite so terrified. After pulling her tiny sports bag from her shoulders and tidying herself up in a nearby public restroom – she could practically hear Ronnie telling her just what James would think of the state of it – she nervously made her way back out onto the street and eyed up the buildings nearby.

After a little investigating, it became all too clear that only two of the buildings were actual homes, surrounded by big and little business alike, and she pondered over which one Atticus might be living in – if either of them at all. Riddled with nerves, and tugging anxiously at the sweater that she’d just thrown on, she brushed a stray hair from her eyes and approached the first of the two houses. Rapping her knuckles against the wooden door, she anxiously awaited as the footsteps behind it grew closer and closer, until the door finally swung itself open.

Standing before her was, quite frankly, a rather charming looking lady who wore a warm, inviting smile on her face, and Amelia couldn’t help but ponder over whether or not she was Atticus’ mother. The tension leaving her shoulders, Amelia pulled herself up to full height before beaming up at the lady.

“Hello!” Amelia greeted her, excitedly rocking back and forth on the soles of her feet. “You must be Miss Danvers! Is Atticus home?”

The instant the words fell from her lips, the smile was wiped from the woman’s face, her eyes glazing over momentarily and eventually settling on a glare. A lump instantly formed in Amelia’s throat as she fretted over an endless stream of possibilities, her mind wandering to Wardo, and people like Cody Tyler who hated her parents. Perhaps that was why Atticus didn’t talk of his home life?

“Nah, I ain’t no Danvers, and there ain’t no Atticus here,” the woman told her, topping her words off with a resigned sigh. Nodding her head towards the building across the street, she shrugged before landing her gaze back on Amelia. “I dunno no Atticus, but there’s always your kind tresspassin’ a ways over there. Youths an’ thugs an’ stuff.”

With that, she slammed the door shut, leaving a mortified Amelia in her wake. How very rude! First and foremost, Amelia knew for certain that Atticus was no ‘thug’, and her certainly wouldn’t be trespassing, or breaking and entering, or whatever the horrid lady was trying to imply. No, there had to be some sort of misunderstanding. Mustering up as much courage as she could find, her fingers anxiously fiddling with the strings of her rucksack, Amelia charged across the road – always glancing left and right for oncoming vehicles, of course – and knocked loudly and frantically upon the door, only to be met with another unfamiliar face.

“Oh! Um… I’d like to speak to Atticus please,” she told the boy before her, doing her utmost best to keep up the confident facade. She had no clue what sort of a response she would get, and she wasn’t even certain Atticus was here, but she’d come this far.

When the boy merely nodded, before disappearing up the flight of stairs behind him, Amelia shuffled anxiously and allowed herself a few moments to steady her breathing, frantically ignoring the stares of– goodness, how many people were living in this house?

Eyes snapping up as a soft thud sounded before her, Amelia stared ahead as her gaze landed on Atticus. So he was here.

“Um… Well, I didn’t, I just sort of… guessed? Well, no, that’s not true… I actually followed you last night, and then I–” Amelia cut herself off instantly, her eyes widening as she realised what she was saying. It wasn’t totally out of the ordinary for her to ramble usually, but she didn’t usually spend her times implying that she liked to stalk her close friends in the dead of night, either.

Averting her eyes from Atticus and staring firmly at her feet, she pulled her bag from her shoulders once more and rummaged through it until she found his snapback. Still too nervous to look at him, she fiddled with the visor before awkwardly waving it in front of her.

“I, um… I have your hat?” she told him meekly, her eyes practically burning holes into the fabric.

It took Atticus a mere three seconds to digest the look of sheer alarm on Amelia’s face as she gaped at their surroundings. Fighting the urge to shuffle his feet on the spot, Atticus opted to glance around instead. He took in the damp on the walls and ceiling, the uneven floorboards and the dirty rugs strewn across the place to hide unflattering stains of who-knows-what. He’d never been to Amelia’s house, but he knew it was a hop, skip and a complete world away from this.

As soon as the brunette mentioned that she’d followed him, his head whipped towards her. He frowned in confusion, having never been worried about stalkers before, especially when they came in the form of petite brunettes who liked swimming and pub quizzes.

“Followed me? What?” he asked, screwing his face up, only for his features to smooth out when she produced his snapback. In truth, he’d long since forgotten about the hat, boiling the loss of it down to his own carelessness when leaping across the rooftops of New York buildings. He didn’t have many of his own possessions, but his impressive snapback collection was strictly his and he had enough to juggle around, so the absence of one wasn’t a great tragedy.

“Oh…” he muttered softly, reaching out to take the offered hat. Despite everything, it was comforting to be reunited with it and he ran his thumb across the torn visor. “Thanks, boo.”

His voice was strangely subdued, nothing like the loud and obnoxious tone he usually spoke with. He knew that had everything to do with the humiliation coursing through him when he realised that this was yet another thing Amelia knew about him that he had tried to keep secret. The little brunette had a way of wrestling hidden information from Atticus, whether it be regarding his intelligence or his home life: two things that even Finn knew nothing about.

“Well,” he said, eventually, throwing his arms out to the side. “Welcome to Casa el Danvers.”

The joke fell flat and he huffed out a sigh. Garth and Lina were tucked away in the corner of the hallway, taking up residence on the rickety loveseat but keeping keen eyes trained on the scene unfolding in front of them. Atticus had never been the pair’s biggest fans, especially after hearing the comments they made when he had brought a boy home. He knew that they’d be lapping up his embarrassment so he shot them a pouty glare and donned his hat.

“C’mon, let’s go for a walk, boo,” he told Amelia, still scowling at his housemates as he urged his friend outside.

Once they spilled out into the dirty, stifling air of his dusty neighbourhood, Atticus slammed the door behind him and began kicking his way through the overgrown grass of the front yard.

“I know it looks sketchy but I promise you won’t have caught anything just by stepping inside,” he joked to Amelia. “We maintain very high standards of hygiene in there.”

[nvmatticus-blog]

TEXT: RONNIE

Atticus: happy birthday, my not so little ronnie boo! 😘

[nvmatticus-blog]

.gdijayden:

“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” JJ muttered to himself.

Sliding his finger across the volume toggle on his phone, he let out a groan as he realised that his music was at its loudest. Still hammering its way into his head through his headphones, it still remained incapable of drowning out the screaming and shouting that was reverberating across his bedroom walls from somewhere else in the building.

Just like any other day there seemed to be some sort of ordeal that he didn’t want to get involved with, his foster siblings usually resorting to swinging fists and using  brooms or remote controls as makeshift weapons in an attempt to silence one another. There had been very few occasions when JJ had been fool enough to intervene, usually resulting in a broken nose or a cracked rib that his foster mother would turn a blind eye to. Eventually he’d learned to let them pick and fight their own battles, and to seclude himself as much as physically possible.

Admittedly, that was easier said than done, and drumming music through his ears was proving to be much less effective than usual, and so instead he decided now was an opportune time to get himself out of the house and away from all the noise. Now with his tatty, backpack over his shoulders, and the afternoon chill biting through the shabby fabric of his jacket, he was rolling his way through the streets, skateboard beneath his feet, in the hopes of finding some sort of release for all his pent up anxiety. Finally coming to a still, he spotted what appeared to be a downtrodden, abandoned building a short distance away, and kicked his board up into his hand, and jogged across the street to investigate.

Hastily shoving his board into his backpack – about 2 thirds of it sticking out – and a bit of nosing about, he found himself faced with a particularly looking weak, wired fence that surrounded the building. With no sign of human life around, and nothing to lose, he shrugged to himself and decided to take a gamble. Scrambling forward, he clumsily climbed over the tinny fence. Then, hitching his bag off of his shoulder and dropping it onto the grass below, he dropped from the top of the fence and, stumbling onto his knees, he stuck his hands out to catch his fall.

Sighing out a breath of relief once he was back on his feet, he emptied the contents of his bag onto the grass beside him, and stared at the scruffy brickwork of the building before him. He remembered the first time Mariana had seen his work, and the way he hopped fences and splattered paint so carefully over private property like it was the most ordinary thing in the world. Having grown up in the foster system and witnessing some of the far more extreme crimes that even some of his own foster siblings had committed, he was pretty sure that expressing himself in his art was just about the mildest kind of criminal that he could become. Mariana had been mortified to begin with, worried that he’d get caught and land himself in trouble, but had eventually been so taken by his talents that she’d started to encourage the habit.

With his tongue between his teeth, he set to work on his latest piece. He had it all planned out. It was going to be a mural, something he’d always wanted to create. He’d never actually tell anyone about it, and he was damn grateful to find a spot that nobody he actually knew would find, considering they’d probably all be pretty confused if they ever set eyes on it. The image was to consist of himself, Mariana, and a few of his work and classmates – including Taylor, of course – but not in their usual state. Instead, his idea was to recreate them in the image of superheroes. He knew it was a juvenile, and quite frankly strange concept, but it had been one he’d grown attached to.

He had finally finished spraying the outline of his first figure, a fancy M printed in large letters onto Superhero!Mickey’s costume, when a noise sounded behind him. It sounded like the rattling of a fence, soon followed by a few twigs snapping, and he whirled on the spot in confusion.

“Huh?!” he gasped, his head bobbing back and forth as he tried to figure out what, or who, had made the noise.

Atticus’ feet pounded on the concrete, his legs pumping as he gathered more speed, velocity increasing and his breathing in time with each kick off the ground. The edge of the building was growing ever closer and he pushed Newton’s second law of motion to the front of his brain, forcefully wiping thoughts of the first law from his memory when the formula threatened to pop up before his very eyes and distract him. He didn’t need that one, there was no inertia here to play with because he was accelerating as he neared the roof’s edge. He was building momentum, relying on the vector, hoping the ‘F’ of the equation would turn out to be in his favour when he multiplied the ‘m’ by the ‘a’ and coupled his mass and acceleration to launch himself off the roof and (hopefully) land on the next one over.

Anyone with less nerve would have probably slowed down when the painful looking brickwork of the alleyway below came into view, but Atticus didn’t falter. He ran and he ran and he ran and then he pushed himself off the ledge, potential unravelling itself into – bam – kinetic as he flew across the narrow gap and saw the welcoming sight of the neighbouring roof rushing towards him.

He landed, knees bent until he was close enough to the ground to roll until he came to a halt, lying on his back as a breathless laugh fell from his lips. The only thing lost in the flight had been his snapback and he scrambled onto all floors to retrieve it a few feet away. Propping it back onto his head, he then took a sneaky glance at the railway bridge running adjacent to the building, levelled up from the city so it could hurtle on straight through to the Bronx without disrupting any pedestrians of street traffic. The high whistling noise that was the surefire sign of a train approaching sounded more like a dare to Atticus, one that challenged him to make it onto the bridge and over to the other side before the train arrived. Adrenaline began to flood through his veins once more and he flexed his arms out to the side, ready to psyche himself up for the endeavour when yet another sound caught his attention.

A prolonged pchiiiiit reached his ears and he frowned, curiosity getting the better of him. Creeping over to the opposite end of the roof, he peered over the edge and saw something that was hardly out of the ordinary. Some boy was spray painting the wall of the facing building and Atticus’ interest quickly waned. That was, until he saw the tag further along the wall.

“Ohhhh, boo,” he winced, recognising the logo for what it was and knowing that Cormac wouldn’t be best pleased to learn about people spraying his territory. And he knew Cormac was out tonight, spoiling for a fight and here was this kid practically gift-wrapping one for him.

After learning long ago not to meddle with Cormac’s business, Atticus knew he should probably leave it be. But his nosiness, usually reserved for which cheerleader was pregnant and just who was making eyes at Finn, served to make him crane his neck until he could see the other guy’s face. When he caught sight of who it was, he wished he had never looked at all and stifled a groan. He didn’t know JJ personally, but he’d seen him in the hallways and didn’t want the next time he spotted him to be when the guy had been caught off guard by Cormac and his friends.

To the best of his ability, he stealthily used the foundations of the railway bridge to clamber down, the train trundling across it rattling the metal frame and making his teeth clatter together but also sound-proofing his descent. That was until it sped off just as he was making the last leap down and he landed right onto a mass off twigs, all of them snapping under his weight.

“Ugh!” he said aloud, because there was no reason to hide his cover now. He glared down at the sticks. “Is this because of that one vanilla cupcake I ate?”

Kicking his way through the undergrowth and overgrown plants that surrounded the shabby, abandoned building, he waltzed right into JJ’s line of sight and thrust the full force of his dazzling grin onto the boy.

“Hellooooo there JJ, which is one letter away from JC, which we know is what Jesus would call himself if he came back to Earth and acted as a civilian in a fun, upbeat, three-star religious comedy,” he smiled. “Wait, are you civilian Jesus?”

He quickly made the sign of the cross before sobering up and gesturing towards JJ’s (admittedly impressive) art work.

“You know you shouldn’t be tagging here, right boo?” he had to ask.

[confessmessina-blog]

when are finn and attie gonna get together already? the clock’s ticking, boys.

(via confessmessina)

Amelia, my little tropical fish, was this you?

[confessmessina-blog]

wait, so amy’s dating levi? not finn? or is he dating ronnie? hold on… does that mean atticus is single?

(via confessmessina)

If you reached that conclusion all by yourself then that has nothing to do with me, Attie!

(via akaamy)

Well, who else apart from me is the most handsome boy in the world?

[confessmessina-blog]

wait, so amy’s dating levi? not finn? or is he dating ronnie? hold on… does that mean atticus is single?

(via confessmessina)

THE MOST HANDSOME BOY IN THE WORLD? He’s cute, and he swims, and he’s got a nice smile!

(via akaamy)

Gasp, are you telling me to court Finnegan?

[confessmessina-blog]

wait, so amy’s dating levi? not finn? or is he dating ronnie? hold on… does that mean atticus is single?

(via confessmessina)

I know a cute and single boy, if you’re wondering.

(via akaamy)

Who might that be, my lovely swimming cherub?

[confessmessina-blog]

wait, so amy’s dating levi? not finn? or is he dating ronnie? hold on… does that mean atticus is single?

(via confessmessina)

Single as a sour cream and chive Pringle! Who’s asking, boo?

[fyilevi-blog]

[okcaroline-blog]

Caroline Grantaire SUPER LIKE!!! you guys are the cutest!

[byejoseph-blog]

Joe Lowery good luck amelia

[nvmatticus-blog]

Atticus Danvers shut the eff up, this is so precious and gay omg

[nvmatticus-blog]

“Boo, that tickles,” Atticus giggled as the other boy’s lips grazed the juncture between his neck and shoulder. As soon as Smith pressed his lips more insistently against that particular point, Atticus let out a breathy gasp as his hand came up to slide through the boy’s tufty blonde hair. He gently breathed Smith’s name and arched his body up against the other boy’s lithe frame. As soon as Smith began sucking lightly at the sensitive spot, Atticus let gentle encouragements spill from his lips as his hand slid downwards towards Smith’s ass. The boy on top of him moaned approvingly, yet was too immersed in his own task to fully pay attention to just what Atticus’ hand was doing down there.

Atticus had to admit that Smith had a great ass, but that wasn’t why he dipped his hand into the back pocket of the boy’s jeans. As soon as his fingers were clasped around the leather wallet in there, he swiftly pulled it out and stilled for a moment, waiting to see if Smith noticed. If the way the blonde’s teeth continued to graze Atticus’ neck were anything to go by, he hadn’t so Atticus deftly pocketed the wallet into his own hoody.

Just as Smith’s hand reached for the button on Atticus’ jeans, Atticus decided he’d got what he came for and sat up straight.

“Well, boo, that was just gosh darn it delightful,” he grinned easily, raising a hand to his mussed up hair in an attempt to flatten it before scooping his snapback up from the floor and propping it on its rightful place atop his head. “We should do that again some time!”

“Wait, huh?” a confused Smith asked, looking flushed and all too ready to keep going.

Breezily, Atticus jumped up and made his way to the bedroom door where the sounds of the party he’d came to filtered through. He wiggled his fingers in the direction of a very bewildered Smith before strutting back out and looking for his friends. He dodged various teenagers breaking all the underage drinking laws and realising, with a hint of irony, that he seemed to be the only one not drinking or going against legality. He could blame the Crohn’s for that.

When he spotted a crowd congregating over by the coffee table, he also spotted Finn. Pushing past classmates and the like, he neared the sofa and climbed over the back of it so he could slide into the space beside his best friend.

“Hiya, Finnegan!” he greeted the other boy, subtly hitching the collar of his hoody up to hide the bruise blooming there from Smith’s skilful teeth. He gestured to the crowd of teenagers milling around their area.

“What’s happening here? Is someone going to strip? Gasp, I hope it’s you!” he said, nudging Finn excitedly.

[nvmatticus-blog]

Finding a clean towel in this place, Atticus found, was proving to be a chore and a half. He thought he’d been victorious when he’d ventured into Gregor’s bedroom on the second floor and saw one lying on the man’s bed, but as soon as he’d picked it up, he realised the threadbare cloth was weighed down with upchucks of the man’s dinner the night before. Gagging as soon as the stench of vomit hit his nostrils, Atticus covered his hand with his mouth and backed out of the room, tripping over Gregor’s empty beer bottles that lay abandoned on the uneven floorboards as he went.

As he stumbled back out into the hallway, Hayley and Chrissie stampeded by with what looked like the house’s full supply of candy clenched in their fists and stuffed into their pockets. Atticus merely raised an eyebrow as they thudded by him.

“You didn’t see us!” Hayley called with that typical eight-year-old assertiveness. By her side, Chrissie simply nodded, her mouth too full of stolen marshmallows for her to say anything.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, boo,” Atticus called after them before walking the other way and running his fingers through his damp hair. By the time he found a freaking towel in this place, he would have dried off, but the stench of chlorine would still stick to him. Their water had been shut off last week which meant a rota had been devised in order to ensure the kids got the hot water first while Atticus and the older guys chivalrously agreed to hold back and manfully take the freezing cold shower spray.

But the February chill was unforgiving, especially when the portable radiator he’d staked his claim on had been moved to Trey’s room instead when the baby-faced gang member had gotten the flu and kept everyone up all night with his pitiful coughing. All in all, Atticus wasn’t keen on washing away the pool smell with an icy shower, but he couldn’t regret his day with Finn. Even though he couldn’t swim like his best friend, Atticus had taken to splashing around in the shallow end then climbing up Finn’s taller body and floating at his side while demanding, “Finnegan, you need to Moonlight me, hold my head.”

As a last resort, he decided to sneak into Cormac’s room, knowing that getting caught would result in pain of death. But dammit, he wanted to dry off. As he rummaged around in the older man’s room, one of the larger and spacier ones of the house he and the rest of the gang had unlawfully acquired and were now squatting in, he failed to be attentive to the noises outside the door. It was only when the door swung open and a heavy foot thumped against the floorboard that Atticus realised he wasn’t alone and straightened up at once, ready to defend whatever blow Cormac threw at him.

But it wasn’t Cormac and, instead, Roscoe scrutinised him.

“You got a death wish, kid?” the man asked, gesturing around the room.

“I like living life on the edge,” Atticus smiled back easily before sheepishly adding, “I was looking for a towel.”

“Anna has a few,” Roscoe told him. Climbing to his feet, Atticus made to go in search of Anna’s room when Roscoe placed a hand in front of his chest to halt his path. Not that he had planned to anyway, but Atticus knew better than to argue with Roscoe. The leader of their small gang of criminals had taken them all in, sure, but he made sure they earned their keep and each and every one of the pickpockets and ne’er-do-wells that lived in the dilapidated old bedsit knew that Roscoe didn’t tolerate disobedience.

“There’s someone at the door for you,” said Roscoe. Atticus screwed up his features in confusion. For him? Not even Finn knew where he really lived as any time he spent with his friend outside of school took place at the pool or the Jordan household where Atticus preened under all the attention that Candice gave him.

“It wasn’t me, I didn’t do it, I don’t know how the money ended up in my pocket and my current residence is in Peru,” he reeled off.

“It’s not the police,” Roscoe replied, rolling his eyes and taking Atticus by the shoulders so he could steer him towards the staircase. “She looks harmless.”

Now more confused than ever, Atticus figured he should go see what the hell Roscoe was talking about and quickly made his way over to the stairs, perching his butt on the banister so he could slide down it. Jumping off at the bottom, he landed in the hallway and came face to face with Amelia, looking as neat and put together as always, her appearance a stark contrast against the dingy rug and peeling walls of Atticus’ home. His eyes were wide as he stared at her, suddenly feeling nervous.

“Amy?” he asked, keeping his distance. “How did you… How did you know I lived here?”

[nvmatticus-blog]

↳INSTAGRAM: @attiefuldodger uploaded a photo:

maybe one year i'll stop crashing the jordan household at christmas. LMAO LIES I'LL NEVER STOP UNTIL CANDICE LOVES ME MORE THAN SHE LOVES FINNEGAN AND I LEVEL UP TO THE ALPHA JORDAN SON.

[nvmatticus-blog]

TEXT: AMELIA

Atticus: happy bday, boo! gr8ful for ur presence and also for ur willingness to be part 1/2 of Finn's Slut. ily u cutiepie!!!! xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

[nvmatticus-blog]

.akaamy:

Lifting her hand to stifle a laugh, Amelia lowered her head slightly, her hair falling down over her face as she did, in an attempt to hide her amusement from the table beside them. A rabbit? She didn’t like to judge, and she knew that not everyone cared about such mundane, trivial things, but still, she couldn’t believe that they actually thought a dugite was a rabbit. She didn’t enjoy making fun of others, nor lying, but everyone else here had been happily cheating, so she allowed herself to enjoy the karma of the situation just a little.

Her moments of satisfaction was shattered almost immediately when she saw the look on Atticus’ face. He looked fairly displeased at her supposed lack of knowledge, releasing an indignant sigh from his lips as he, once again, proved that he did know the answers. A wave of emotions ran through Amelia in that moment. She wanted to feel smug about it, feeling a desire to clap excitedly as he wrote down the answers. Instead, her shame won over, and she clasped her hands together, placing them in her lap, as she averted his gaze, pouting as the guilt of lying to him coursed through her.

Still stewing in her own pity she almost missed the next question. Shifting in her seat, she listened carefully as the quizmaster spoke. Delightedly, she smiled to herself, excited to have yet another question she knew the answer to. She debated asking Atticus for his opinion, wondering if perhaps he knew this one too, but she didn’t want to push her luck or be a bother, so she eagerly turned in her seat, grabbing the pencil from the table in a bid to write down the question.

“Hm?” she squeaked, her head perking up as Atticus’ words caught up to her. She had been too immersed in writing the answer, that she almost hadn’t noticed him speaking at all. Before she could write a single word down he was rattling off facts about planets, frantically trying to explain that the answer was not Pluto. She knew that, of course. She actually prided herself in the fact that she took an interest in the solar system, often staying awake at night and wondering what it would be like to step foot on another planet. It wasn’t exactly a passion of hers, but it was always fun to let her mind wander.

What she hadn’t expected, however, was for Atticus to have the answer. And not just to have the answer, but to be so well informed. She hadn’t ever really spoken much to Finn about what his best friend’s interests were, nor had she ever asked about his academic life, but she couldn’t help but wonder why Finn had never mentioned that he had such a keen interest in space, or the fact that he was so incredibly clever.

“Oh!” She exclaimed, her mouth forming into a perfect ‘o’ shape as she stared at the boy beside her. She knew exactly what he had said, but she wasn’t quite sure how to respond, his newfound interest in the quiz being a slight shock to her system.

Unable to control herself, Amelia let out a delighted squeal and lunged forward, throwing her arms around the boys neck. In doing so, the cap that Atticus had carefully placed on her head collided with his own, the visor jabbing his temple before toppling straight off of her head. Unphased, Amelia pulled back, grinning at Atticus eagerly as the boy reacted to her sudden fit of excitement.

“Atticus! You’re so smart, has anyone ever told you that?” She asked, beaming up at him all the while. Finally taking note of the discarded hat, she shot him an apologetic smile and reached for the headwear before scruffily setting it back atop his head.

“How did you know all of that?” she questioned, clapping her hands together in glee. She had grown accustomed to the muffled snores and groans of misery that she so often heard in class, nobody ever seeming to share the same level of passion as she did in regards to any of her classes. She recalled the way Cody Tyler would taunt her, snorting with laughter as Amelia excitedly took part in Gym Class. Mr Henshaw was one of her favourite teachers, and there was nothing academic about track, and yet even then there seemed to be a general lack of optimism from her classmates.

Finally drawing her attention back to the sheet in front of her, she enthusiastically jotted down the answer. When she pulled away, she stared down at their list of answers, a proud, delighted smile present on her face. There was no way they wouldn’t win. They had to! Not only were they the only people in the room not cheating, but they had still managed to answer every single question perfectly, and all on their own merit.

As the quizmaster spouted off more questions, each one trickier than the last, she decided to take the moment between one to allow Atticus a chance. He didn’t seem entirely eager to answer any of them, a strange look of shame - or perhaps anger? - evident on his face. She didn’t understand at all why he would seem bothered. Maybe her enthusiasm and incessant exuberance was becoming a bother to him. She hoped not. She was really enjoying Atticus’ company, delighted to finally understand what it was that Finn so greatly adored about him. She just hoped that he wouldn’t go back to Finn miserable at having had to spend the evening with such an exhausting person.

“So, um…” she started, choosing her words carefully before continuing. Glancing between the paper in front of her and the boy beside her, she lazily jotted down answer after answer as the quizmaster rambled on. Finally finding her voice once again, she piped up, her tone level and unaccusing. “Finn never told me how intelligent you were. He speaks a lot about you, and… well, it’s just.. I don’t mean to sound condescending, but you’re brilliant!”

She turned away again, a blush filling her cheeks as the words left her mouth. She wasn’t sure why she felt so embarrassed saying it. She was sure that people must tell Atticus how clever he was all of the time, especially considering the display he had just put on, but the soft pink tint that coloured Atticus’ cheeks made her nervous all the same.

Atticus knew fine well that he had truly blown his cover now. Had he been sitting next to anyone else for the mundane quiz then perhaps he would have been able to keep up his ignoramus façade and act like he really didn’t know any of the answers. But Amelia’s enthusiasm had been infectious, and he had found himself getting caught up in her excitement and had rooted for her. He had wanted Amelia to win and the weaker part of him had figured that a subtle supply of his own knowledge would help her. But, in true Atticus fashion, he had gone overboard, gotten ahead of himself and landed himself in a sticky situation that he was currently unable to lie his way out of. People couldn’t exactly fake knowing the ins and outs of Neptune’s orbital cycle after all.

Soon, he was deafened by a high pitched squeal that came from none other than the small brunette at his side. Atticus was caught off guard as Amelia launched herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck so she could hug him. Unaccustomed to people being so eager to bestow affection on him, Atticus simply hung his arms limply by his side. The only other person he ever really hugged was Finn, and those were mostly sneak attacks by Atticus. He got a warm feeling of joy whenever he snuck up behind his best friend in the school hallways and wrapped his arms around the taller boy’s torso. Amelia’s hug was nothing like that, but it was warm all the same, her hair tickling Atticus’ nose and smelling sweetly of some nice shampoo that Atticus had never smelled before. It took him too long to realise he should return the hug, and just as he was lifting his arms, Amelia was pulling away and returning his hat to its rightful place atop his head. The visor was facing the right way, which was unheard of whenever Atticus was wearing it, so he quickly flipped it back to front.

Laughing dryly at her question, all he could do was give her a small shrug.

“Weirdly enough, no,” he stated, trying his best not to sound sullen and bitter. Atticus was rarely ever in a bad mood when in the company of others. Anyone who crossed paths with him was normally met with his breezy, laissez-fair attitude. He was slipping up in all areas tonight.

Nobody had ever told him that he was smart except Chester, and Chester’s opinion didn’t count for much these days. His older brother had once thrown words around like ‘genius’ and ‘autodidact’ and had went on and on about how Atticus was going to achieve great things one day. He had attempted to reason with their mother and persuade her to let Atticus apply for a scholarship at the local private school, where the boys wore blazers and smart ties and the girls wore plaid skirts that grazed the ground and wouldn’t look out of place in an Amish town. Of course, their mother had simply drained what was left in her vodka bottle and told them both not to be so stupid. Atticus, who had been excitedly clutching the pamphlet for the school in his hands, let his whole frame wilt, and had used the leaflet to fashion a paper airplane instead. He’d let it glide out the window in an attempt to hit the neighbour’s cat, but he had missed and thought nothing more of the school that had been a pipe dream anyway.

Only Chester had possessed any sort of belief in Atticus’ academic abilities but then Chester had left and Atticus had no one left to impress. He wasn’t going to make it anywhere in his life, not like Amelia and Finn were. So there was no point in trying, because even if he did get somewhere, it wouldn’t last.

When Amelia questioned him on how he knew all the answers, Atticus simply stared at her. He wasn’t sure how he could dig himself out of this. He supposed he could come up with some sort of elaborate lie about how he had some sort of earpiece in his ear where one of the nerds at school was feeding him the answers through a wire. But the lack of earpiece shot that horse in the face.

“I just do,” he settled for, turning away from her and picking at a stray peanut on the table. As the quizmaster thundered through more questions, all of which Amelia seemed to know the answer to, Atticus crushed the crumbs of the peanut with the knuckles of his forefinger and mentally answered the question himself. 1314… Laika… John Wilkes Booth… a system of government by the whole population or all the eligible members of state… Justin fucking Bieber…

When it seemed like the guy had given up for the time being, Atticus remained where he was, slumped down in his chair with his arms folded across the front of his ratty hoody. He could hear Amelia talking to him and he was registering her words, but he didn’t want to acknowledge them. Out of the corner of his eyes, however, he saw her turn her head away and there was an unmistakable blush covering her cheeks. Had he embarrassed her?

Swallowing back shame, Atticus tried to tell himself that he didn’t care. He hadn’t even really wanted to come tonight after all, not for any reason that went beyond staking a claim on Finn as his best friend. But, while that may have been true, Amelia Barton had grown on him in the short space of time that she had spent by his side, giggling and squealing excitedly whenever she got an answer right.

Chewing on his lip, Atticus continued to look at her sideways before letting out a defeated sigh and edging closer to her.

“Look… Finn doesn’t know that I know any of this stuff. Nobody does really, except you now. I’d really, really like it if you could keep this to yourself, Amelia…” he told her. There was no light-hearted ‘boo’ at the end of his sentence, just her name that was coated in a pleading tone. He felt his forehead crease as he searched her face for any sign of confirmation that she would keep this newfound information to herself.

“Please?” he added, for good measure.

[nvmatticus-blog]

@regs94: @attiefuldodger you had to make it weird and ruin my comeback didn't you

@attiefuldodger: @regs94 srry that my ass is so irresistible x

[nvmatticus-blog]

@regs94: @attiefuldodger a hella good place for me to have a drink and for you to have whatever you want off of the kids menu ;)

@attiefuldodger: @regs94 uhhh you've stared at my butt though so i think you just admitted to being like, a total cradle snatcher