Yay! I can write again! I've been gone and cut off from my life source- the internet- for FOUR WHOLE DAYS!!! On the bright side, I'm tanner, on the downside, I'm burnt. Hope you enjoy the story!

Slight Trigger Warnings!

You sat alone in your car an hour early for the school day. You were incredibly nervous. What if it was the same as the others? You took a final fleeting breath and exited the car, trying to ignore the feeling in your stomach. It felt like you had eaten some very bad Mexican food.

As you started up the stairs you saw two boys sitting down out of the corner of your eye. You turned to face them and you realized they were both your age. One of them had slightly tan skin with dark hair that swooped over to one side. He had a long face and slightly slanted eyes that were the deepest chocolate brown you'd ever seen.

The other was considerably paler with blond hair and bright blue eyes. He looked like a stereotypical Swedish. You took another deep breath to calm your nerves and began walking shakily over. Once you got closer you saw that they were poring over a book about... Wait, was that an X-Box remote? It was a book about gaming strategy! Though you didn't understand why, that made you feel slightly better about the pair.

You finally reached them, though neither looked up at you. They were too immersed in their own conversation. "No, the Knight is way better!" The dark-eyed man argued his point to the blond. He was American! You weren't alone.

"No way," he replied, "The Rogues are totally better." He had an accent that you couldn't quite place. You assumed Swedish due to his looks.

They were talking about classes. This you knew about. You decided on a whim to jump into the conversation. "Well, I think the Paladin is better than both. Easily..." They both turned to face you when you began talking, which caused the end of your sentence to fizzle out awkwardly. You braced yourself for an insult, but were only met with the two of them agreeing with you.

"You're right!" replied the blond, "Why didn't we think of that?!" The raven haired man merely shook his head in response. When he looked at you closer, however, he looked curious. "I don't think I've seen you around here before..."

You smiled, "No, I just moved here."

"Well, it's nice to have another American here! We've built up a large queue of us, and I think we're close to taking over the potatoes!"

"Ah," the blond said smiling back, "If only there were more Swedish." So you were right!

"Shut up Felix." the other man said. You had began giggling when he had said potatoes, so you were laughing now. They started laughing with you. When your chorus of chortles had finally ceased, you inquired about the American's name.

"Mark," he replied, "Mark Fischbach."

"And I'm Felix, Felix Kjellberg."

"Nice to meet you guys! I'm," your face suddenly turned serious and as you completed your prior statement you put on invisible sunglasses, "[L/N], [Y/N] [L/N]."

"Nice to meet you, too!" they rang back in unison- after they had finished laughing, of course. You smiled back. Then a pressing question formed inside of your mind. "Um, hey, d-do either of you know Sean McLoughlin?"

Both of them looked puzzled until Mark piped up with, "Do you mean Jack?"

"Oh!" you said, and you mentally face-palmed, "Yeah, I mean Jack."

"Well, of course! All of the exchange students know Jack! He's like an usher, or a badly written greeting card.."

"Mark," Felix said, "Shut up."

You waved your goodbye and continued your path up to the doors. By the time you had reached your locker, your nerves were considerably calmer. You finished getting all of your books into your first class, just so you wouldn't have to worry about it, then you began wandering around the halls of your new school.

It all still seemed... Strange. I mean, you had been in Ireland for a month now and everything still felt new to you. It all gave off a foreign sense. Even though it was your home, you felt like you were just visiting. You sighed to yourself, silently wishing that this one, this time it would be different.

Suddenly you heard a thunderous stampede of students from the hall to your left. You bolted back to your first period class and watched the students file in. One strange face after another. You were begging for there to be someone you recognized in your class at this point.

Then, slightly hidden in a rush of people, you saw Mark! You were saved from major socialization! You caught his eye and he took the seat next to you, dropping his bag with a thud and lazily pushing it under his desk with his foot. "How're ya holdin' up?" Mark half-shouted over the chaotic din that was being created by your classmates. "Terrified." You replied with a weak smile before staring intently back at your desk.

After a moments pause, Mark leaned over and whispered into your ear, "Hey, it's really not that bad, the people in this class are nice! Like Bob and Wade," Mark said, pointing out his friends, "And there's the fact that Professor Thompson is awesome! History has never been better!"

He gave you a reassuring smile that you returned half-heartedly. As soon as you and Mark look forward at the blackboad, your attention was redirected to the door as you saw it swing open to reveal the figure of a rather young professor.

He had short brown hair that reminded you of a Lego figurine. He was pale with a sprinkling of freckles cross the bridge of his nose. He had deep green eyes and that made him look even younger, but he dressed like a businessman.. Kind of like Ben Wyatt from Parks and Recreation. He had a light blue dress shirt and nice beige pants with a light pink tie.

"Hellloooo everybody, my name is Mr. Thompson and welcome to one of the most boring subjects in history that I will attempt to make interesting." Everyone but him groaned at his cheesy pun, then he continued,

"Now, as you all know, I start with role call, and, as I understand, we have a new exchange student, so I hope you'll make her feel just as welcome as you did with the others." He glared at a group of students who gave him just as menacing of a look right back. You made a mental note to stay away from them.

Your note was proven to be reliable and reasonable when Mark shot them a dirty look as well.

"Bell, Anderson." Mr. Thompson stated the name bluntly without taking his eyes off the paper.

Sorry if your name isn't where it should be! I can't exactly help it....

The professor's statement was met with a sqeaky, "Here!" from a pale, freckled boy with sandy hair. Next up was, "Connolly, Alexis." A quiet, "Present.." sounded from the seat in front of you. From the back of her head, you couldn't see much else than her long, light brown hair pulled tightly back into a high ponytail that reached past her shoulder blades.

"Nice to see you Alex," Mr. Thompson grumbled under his breath. You couldn't see her face, but you guessed by the way she sat up in her seat just a little straighter that she was smiling broadly. The name following hers was- "Fischbach, Mark."

"Pre-sent." Mark replied smoothly to the professor he so obviously knew well.

You smiled at the idiot who winked at you out of the corner of your eye. Next up was, "[L/N], [F/N]." At your name he looked up and said, "Welcome our new student." Everyone in the classroom waved at you except for the group of kids that Mark had glared at. They were sniggering and pointing at you. You turned incredibly self concious very abruptly and began staring at a speck of orange marker you had just now noticed on your desk.

Mark saw your actions and leaned over to you, the role call resuming. "Hey," he whispered, "don't listen to them." He jabbed his thumb in the direction of the students who already seemed to hate you. You smiled at Mark again then faced forward, waiting for the class to start.

_-Time Skip brought to you by the many people that Jacksepticeye has saved.-_

You stared at the clock for the final few minutes of Mrs. O'Reilly's speech as your stomach pleaded for something- anything- to eat. Even if you wouldn't eat much, food sounded good.

Five, what were you having for lunch that day?

Four, you hoped it was good.

Three, you really shouldn't eat anything.

Two, you were too fat to eat anything..

One, sorry stomach, no lunch today.

Zero. The bell shrieked it's message to the entire student body that it was time to rejoice, for there was food. Mark shot right up and bolted out of the door, eager to get to what was so obviously calling him. You laughed silently and reached down to pick up your notebook, still in your seat, only to have it suddenly flung across the room by someone's foot.

"Oooops." Came a long, drawn out, mocking voice from above you. You clenched your fist and looked up to see none other than the rude group of people from earlier. "Listen," the one who had kicked your book stepped forward. He had greasy, jet black hair that was cut in a lopsided manner, pale skin that looked like moonlight reflecting off of light mist in the morning, and a permanent sneer that showed his rotting, yellowing teeth spread across his face. "You may not know this, and I really don't care if you don't, but this," he gestured around him, "is our turf. You don't get in our way, you don't get beat up and sent to the hospital. Got it?"

He spat the last two words at you as if he was trying to get a bad taste out of his mouth. You lowered your head to the ground and nodded silently. "Good," he snapped curtly, then made his way out of the classroom. You walked a few paces, picked up your notebook and it's stray pages that were strewn about, then made your way to the lunchroom in considerably worse spirits than when you started the day.

This is part one of the first day, just because I thought it was dragging on. Hope you're enjoying the fic so far! Goodbye my fellow potatoes! Have an amazing day! Oh, in case you didn't know, I'm also taking requests. I have a book dedicated to it, so request there!