Sherlock: Before He Became a Consulting Detective

2. A New Beginning

Sherlock hated every minute of his new school. He didn't make any friends in the six months he attended. He kept to himself, minding his own business.

School closed early. Everybody in his class, except him, went to a bar to celebrate the beginning of their adulthood.

When he arrived home from school, his mother greeted him at the front door with an envelope in her hand.

"Guess what this is?" she cried out when he walked through the door.

He shrugged while shaking his head.

"A letter from Oxford, you're accepted." She smiled, holding the envelope out to him.

He glanced at the tore edges, looked up and shook his head again. "I'm not going and I don't want to become a lawyer."

"But Sherlock," she cried out. "It's the Holmes family tradition. Your father, your grandfather, and great grandfather, as well as Mycroft went there. You can't throw your life away like this. You have to get a degree in something. A high school diploma only, won't get you anywhere."

He furrowed his brows. "Who says anything about throwing my life away? I'm going to the University of Liverpool. I'm going to study biomedical science and become a lab analyst." He turned around and left her standing in the corridor, while gaping at him.

He shut his bedroom door behind him.

After he changed out of his school uniform, he fell down on his bed, thinking of Matt.

For two months, he received letters from him every week. The letters diminished until it stopped, even though Sherlock kept on writing, sending a letter to him every week.

It had been a month since he last heard of him, until yesterday. In the letter, Matt asked him to stop writing. He cancelled their plans to spend the holidays together and stated, using scare quotes, he moved on.

The thought of seeing Matt by the end of the year, kept him going these past six months. He was his first friend, his first... love. Now he had nothing to look forward to, except a tedious Christmas vacation with his parents at home.

***

Surprisingly, Mycroft put Britain on hold and came to visit for Christmas. He stayed the week and left after New Year's Day.

The dormitories opened the second week in January for the students to move in, enroll into classes and get their study rosters, before attending university the following Wednesday.

Sherlock kept to himself as usual. After his classes, he spent his time in the library doing research until suppertime. Thereafter he buried himself in his textbooks in the dorm room.

The quiet dormitory was bliss to him during weekends. He preferred to stay in instead of going home. Once every two months, just to please his mother, he would go home for the weekend.

Sherlock was a straight-A student, like in high school. The other students became jealous of him. They made fun him. Some called him a vampire for his pale skin and tall slender physique, while others called him a geek for being constantly in the library.

In the beginning of his fifth and final year, his science professor fell ill and had to go on sick leave for the remainder of the year.

Monday morning the class awaited the arrival of their new science lector. It was past eight and still no sign of him.

While waiting, Sherlock put his elbow on his desk, supported his head on his fist and shut his eyes.

Minutes later, the new lector barged through the door and apologized with an excuse that his car had a flat tire.

Sherlock didn't move, except for fluttering his eyes when the door banged. He despised people coming late, even more those who had to set an example.

"I'm Professor Andrew Marks," the new lector said while writing his name on the black board. He turned back to the students and smiled as he glanced over each of them. His brow arched when he noticed Sherlock's blasé attitude.

A list of students' names and locations where they sat in the classroom lay on his desk. He picked it up and glanced over it. After finding the name he was looking for, he strolled over to him.

Sherlock jumped when the professor banged his hand on his desk. He stared at the long slender fingers on the desk in front of him.

"Mister Holmes, do you find me boring already?"

He raised his head slowly and locked eyes with his new science lector. He almost gasped aloud as he laid eyes on the tall sturdy man with the short blonde hair.

Sherlock stared into his bright blue eyes. His heart pounded rapidly.

His brow flicked once, the only indication that he was he pulling himself together. "On the contrary, Professor Marks."

He snorted. "So, at least you've paid attention while I introduced myself."

"I always pay attention, Professor."

He narrowed his eyes as he gazed at his student. "I don't want to see you with closed eyes in my class again." He turned around while asking them to open their textbooks.

Sherlock gazed at him as he walked away, pausing his eyes on his rear end. With effort, he dragged his gaze away from the man and opened his textbook. His hand shivered as he paged through the book. The last time butterflies twirled in his stomach and his flesh crawled with excitement, was the day he met Matt.