Hiccup's POV

"Hey, Useless!" came the obnoxious voice of my cousin, Stan Jorgenson, or as he prefers being called, Snotlout, as he came up to me as I made my way off the field. Why he gave himself such a stupid name remains a mystery, but, it's still not as bad as mine.

I'm Henry Haddock. The Third. ... Okay, you caught me. I'm Hiccup. Henry is my real name, but... because our village, Berk, lives under old Viking tradition, as a "runt" of the litter, I was given the name Hiccup as my nickname.

Sad, huh?

That's not even the worst part... Wanna know what's worse than my name? Keep reading.

"What is it, Sta-" He gave me a death glare. "Uh, I-I mean, Snotlout?" I stuttered. He walked up to me menacingly. "Close call, Useless. You do remember the last time you called me that name was bad for you, right?" he chuckled. 'Everyday's terrible because of assholes like you, but go on...' I wanted to say, but I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from doing so.

I cleared my throat, "What do you want?" He grinned and motioned to something. "Ya see, I'd forgotten to bring my wallet for my lunch, so..." Suddenly out came two of his jock friends from either side behind me.

Did I forget to mention my cousin was captain of the football team? Yeah... How lucky am I, right?

"You owe me some money to buy my lunch," he said, knocking his fist to the palm of his hand. "So instead of giving you mercy and letting you simply give the money to me..." He'd trailed off, and before I could register anything, I was on my back, and a kick was aimed at my abdomen, way lower than I wanted it to be. I curled up into a ball and rolled onto my side. 'Ow...'

"Pull him up," he told his goons. I felt two pairs of beefy arms grab hold of my thin, gangly ones and pull me up. I was panting, trying to stop the pain in my gut. Then I felt a stinging feeling in my head. Specifically where my left eye was. That was sure to leave a mark... A black eye for a week at the most.

I felt a hand shove into my front pocket and pull out my wallet. "Do you mind? No?" His grin remained plastered on his face, and I wanted to badly to see it turn into a look of regret. Sadly, I saw nothing. Nothing but hate, and remorse. "I guess not," he said. He opened my wallet and looked through the pouches and the zipper at the very last pocket. He took everything out; my coins, bills, he even got out my dad's calling card and my credit card. I mean, sure it has a lot of value on it but there's nothing he can use it on here on campus anyway.

'Oh shit, wait a sec!' "Put the card back! Please!" I begged. That card had something taped to the back of it. 'Shit, don't look at it! I should've taken it off! Gah, I'm so stupid!'

"Oh, what have we here?" he asked joyously, turning the card over. I squeezed my eyes shut. There was a paper behind that card that held something... Something which, up to now, I have no idea why I wrote it down and stuck it there in the first damn place.

It was Astrid Hofferson's phone number... Yeah, her. My life-long crush, who never noticed me. If you're asking how I have her number then, let's just say we were assigned as partners for a project. She wasn't at all happy about it and just gave me her number so that she'd avoid as much physical contact with me as possible. How can I be sure? She told me so.

Flashback; two months earlier

Science! One of the very few subjects I enjoy! Why? There's no Snotlout, no twins, no bullies in my class... Frank was in my class. Frank Ingerman. Though for some reason, people called him Fishlegs. He was a friend of mine when we were younger, but because people started picking on him for being five feet away from me most days, I decided he should stop hanging out with me because I didn't want him to go through what I was going through.

It was for the best, after all.

Oh, and did I mention Astrid was in my class? Oh, I did? Sorta? Technically? In a way?

Sorry. I'm just hyped every time I'm in the same room as her even though I know she'll never notice me.

The teacher walked into the room. Miss Emerald. She was a new teacher, just started this year, but she handled it like a pro. One time, a student played basketball in the classroom, DURING study hours, and so Miss Emerald went over to the student and snatched the ball, walked to the front of the room, held the ball in one hand and a pair of scissors in the other, and stabbed the ball. I have to tell you, no eyes have ever gone wider that day.

"Now that I have your attention, which I'm hoping won't vanish anytime soon," she'd started, "Why don't I start by introducing to you all your project for this semester?"

Moans and groans of disappointment were heard all around. It was just me and Fishlegs who didn't. And, surprisingly, when I looked her way, Astrid wasn't either. I guessed then she took her studies very seriously.

Don't ask me why I looked her way!

"Relax. This is a pair project. So at least the burden isn't all on just you. You need to make a remote-controlled car that, as much as possible, runs on any green energy. Solar, and the like," she continued. Jeez, what way with words... Although after that, the groans did die down, just a bit. 'That's what I thought,' I said to myself.

"But!" Oh no, here it comes... "I will personally be the one to assign your partners."

And the return of the groans... But among them, I heard so many whispers.

"Ugh, don't put me with Useless..."

"I was his partner last time. Don't give me him again. It was bad enough in our Lit. assignment."

"Who the hell wants to be partners with a runt?"

And then came the one that hurt me the most...

"Please don't assign me to be with Henry," Astrid whispered. You know what was worse? She sits just in front of me, to my right. I was right there.

It hurt. Still does...

As she called out the pair names, I anxiously waited for mine to be called, my nails digging into my table.

"Astrid and Henry! You two are partners for this project, due a month from now."

All heads swiveled to me. All of them bore faces of disgust, some even snickering because they knew Astrid would beat me to a pulp. But the one face I tried my best to avoid, but failed, was hers. She was furious. She was angry, and a scowl was on her beautiful features.

"Stay away from me," she mouthed. I just nodded in sadness and defeat.

After that period ended, she shoved a piece of paper at my face. It was her number. She said only use it to work on the project. She said that afterwards, I should delete the number from my phone and burn the paper.

Of course, I didn't listen to that part.

We got the highest score among everyone in class in that project. She was happy about that, but still loathed me.

What did I do to deserve this...?

Oh right... I was born...

"Why do you have my girl's number, Useless?" I heard Snotlout say, through gritted teeth. I hated how he called Astrid "his girl" because she definitely is not "his girl", and never was. I hate it when the jocks refer to Astrid or any other girl as "their girl" or what, because they're not damn objects! They're people with their own free will and rights!

"Don't you dare call her 'your girl', Snotlout! She's not yours! She's not anyone's," I snapped. It felt good to stand up for myself and for Astrid, even if I knew what was to come.

"Oh, would you shut your mouth!?" he yelled, punching me again in the face. I felt my nose crack and tasted the blood that dripped down from it land in my open, panting mouth. My lower lip was also split open, and blood dripped down from there. "Don't you tell me what to do, you runt!"

I didn't care that he was practically murdering me right now. I just cared for Astrid, no matter how much she hurt me.

"Snotlout, would you just stop?"

I froze. She was here? She was watching this unfold this whole time?

Snotlout turned around, and there she was, with her gym bag dropped on the ground and her sweaty face irritated. His face just turned from anger towards me to flirty and seductive towards her as he walked over to her, bits of my blood dripping from his hand. "Hey babe," he started, "What are you doing here? Watching me beat up Useless here as your knight in shining armor?" He threw his arm around her shoulder, and all I did was watch as his goons still held me in place.

Her face darkened, and she shook her head. "Get off me, Snotlout..." she growled. "Now why would I do that?" Snotlout challenged. "Obviously, you enjo-." He never got to finish, since Astrid grabbed his arm which was around her shoulders, twisted it in a very painful angle, threw him over, and kicked him where the sun don't shine.

I winced, feeling that pain. But at the same time, I was happy that she was actually helping me, even if it was mostly herself.

"Get out of here, now. Before I call Stoick," she told him.

Stoick was my father, and a very close friend of our school principal. He was also the mayor - or the chief, as we still call it - of our village. Now if you ask me how the son of the chief of your village gets picked on, beat up, and bullied by everyone, even his own cousin, you clearly don't know the difference between my father and me.

He's successful, I'm a failure. He's a leader, I'm a loser. He's huge, I'm a runt. He's bulky and strong, I'm lanky and weak. Whatever he is, I'm the complete opposite. I probably got more of my mother's side, but I never know, especially since she died in a car crash before I even got a chance to remember what she looked like.

I dropped to the ground, and I groaned. I coughed too, and I saw droplets of my blood splatter on the already red concrete track I lay on. My vision was swaying, but I could focus on Astrid walking over to me after watching Snotlout run off. I curled up into a ball, because my gut still hurt from where he kicked me there.

"I'm not gonna bother asking if you're alright because you obviously aren't," I heard her say, kneeling next to me. "You're weak, no offense." 'O...kay? She actually said "no offense" to me of all people?'

"You should learn to fend for yourself now. Until then, I can't keep coming in to save your sorry ass."

I just nodded. She was right after all. I'm too weak to take care of myself. I'm freaking 18 and I can't even do three bench presses!

That's gonna change soon. I'm gonna make sure it will.

If I don't belong here... I'll make sure I go somewhere I know I'm good at.