1
Suzy
Present Day
Suzanne's high school was a pinnacle of technology. Within it was a robust system of computers, laboratories, and exercise equipment. The place was beautiful, with the entrance consisting of high, arrogant brick arches with brass letters overhead spelling out: Seattle Honorary High School. The building stood near the middle of the city, reaching only three stories high, but situated on higher ground, as if standing as a beacon for the wealthy. It was a rich school for rich students, and it positively reeked of that fact.
It was probably one of the shittiest places to be, too.
Suzanne slammed her locker closed and activated the lock, feeling a sense of warmth as the last day of school came to an end. A slight hum was heard as the locker sealed itself electromagnetically. It would probably take a Mastodon battleship to pull it open now. And she doubted that the walls would hold it in.
The Seattle Honorary High School was a cesspool of rich, spoiled kids, constantly at odds with one another. The year 2010 was not a good year to exist in. While the trifles that normally held back society had been dealt with for the most part, like WMDs, fanatical religions, STDs, and cancer, the culture of the United States had collapsed in to a culture based on class. The rich were on top, in constant control of the government and major industries, while the middle class toiled away, attempting to make their lives better while furthering the master's goals.
And the poor? Phft. Suzy didn't even know why they bothered existing. Because there had to be some at the bottom, she supposed.
"Hey Suzeeeee. Guess What?" Her friend, Dena, said. Dena was much like Suzy, except she developed a tan much more easily and had blond hair, as opposed to Suzy's brown hair. For some reason, the guys seemed to like that.
Suzanne turned to Dena. "What is it?" While still being fairly vain, as were most of the girls, Suzanne O'Brien was straightforward when it came to socialization. The guys didn't seem to like that.
"We're getting a new stuuuudent next year. And guess what else?"
Suzy had started walking, her bag slung over her shoulder.
"He's an outtie?" She asked. "Outtie" was the term used for students outside the upper class, ones who'd gotten in to the private school on a scholarship, or if their parents won the lottery. As nasty as the school was, it did give a child better odds in the world, and that was a risk some parents were willing to take.
Dena giggled, clapping her hands together. "He is! Won the National Placement Scholarship with honors. He'll be starting this fall as a junior. I can't wait to see what happens when the softy meets up with the boys here."
Suzy had to stifle a whistle. People who won the National Honorary Placement Scholarship were bestowed with a powerful intellect. The few who won it with honors were geniuses in their own right. So instead of a whistle, Suzy just grinned and chattered back.
The girls were about to exit the school when Dena snickered and pointed through the glass panes and in to the front office.
"Ooooh, that's him, that's him! I remember his picture from the papers!"
Suzanne followed the finger, and spotted a rumpled teenage boy taking some papers from the secretary. His hair was a dark brown, about three inches long. It was combed straight back from his forehead. The clothes he was wearing looked about a size to big, the shirt he wore had some funny stick figures on it, and the ruffled cargo pants were a faded green, held around his waist by a snakeskin belt. He was skinny and relatively fit, but didn't exhibit the muscular type that many of the boys in the school did. The boy looked more like he'd built his muscle up through some heavy lifting and constant walking. Probably had no time for a lot of exercise, what with all the studying he must've done to win that Scholarship. His appearance was a stark contrast in all accounts to everyone else at the school, but he didn't seem too worried about his looks. As she watched the boy picked up a tattered bag and slung it over his shoulder, then walked out of the front office. Suzy and Dena strode on, and the former noticed that the new one seemed to be heading the way the two friends were. Suzy turned to her friend.
"Do you happen to know his name?"
Dena casually flipped her head, and the golden mane of hair was tossed to one side as she examined him.
"John Greenwich, I think. Why, what do you care? He's going to be paste the first week back."
Suzy sucked in a small breath. Dena seemed to like it when new students got beat up by the rich ones. While she herself didn't mind it, she just didn't see it as the spectacle Dena did.
John boarded the bus after the two girls, who always sat in the middle of the long vehicle, and sat up front, in the second seat behind the driver. He sat with his head tilted against the window, probably asleep.
Once the bus was filled with students, the driver pulled the long vehicle out and accelerated.
There were several stops before John was to get off, and as he turned to start down the few steps to the outside, he paused. Suzy felt a small sense of elation as she saw the blur of a spitball, made from notebook paper, sail through the air. It was quenched by a smaller feeling of awe when John spun and neatly snatched the small wad from midair. Silence fell on the bus as the newcomer slowly walked to the middle of the bus, and faced the occupant of the seat opposite Suzy's.
"This yours?" He said, addressing the student still holding the straw. His voice was oddly flat, and sounded very unforgiving. The eyes that bored in to the student were gray, piercing orbs. The kid had to be two inches taller and at least eight pounds of muscle heavier. He glared up at John and gave a small nod. John dropped the soaked paper in to the bully's friend's open water bottle, and walked out without another word.
Suzy heard Dena mutter something as the door closed behind the new student.
"Ooh, he is deeeaaad." And she giggled.
***
The summer was a peaceful one, passed pleasantly with the regular intoxications of movies, video games, sun, and marijuana.
School had begun again, unfortunately for Suzy. She was worried that she'd messed up on a question involving Newton's formula for gravitational force. Was the gravitational constant 6.67 or 6.76? She could never remember.
As her locker slammed shut, Suzy felt someone grab her ass. She spun around, confronted with a guy who had to be about six foot two, and was probably on the football team. He grinned at her, placing one hand on the locker behind her.
"How about we go a little farther, darlin'?"
Suzy spluttered. She'd never been in a fix like this. "D-don't touch my ass, you… you…"
He leaned in. "Howza 'bout we get down tonight, my place?"
Here she was sure about what he meant. She pushed him away. "Get away from me."
Pushing back lightly, the guy's chest brushed hers. "Awww, don't play hard to get, sweetie. I know you want it."
"No means no, beans for brains." A voice called out, bringing silence to the hall. The bully turned towards it. John stood in the middle of the hallway, casually holding his bag in one hand and a book in the other. Students backed away from him, knowing what was coming. John was easily six inches shorter than the bully, who she now remembered was a guy names Simon Adams.
"And what will you do about it, pipsqueak?"
John shrugged, and his eyes hardened in to that piercing glare again. "Whatever it takes for you to listen to her."
"Well, just more fun for the books."
Simon pounded his fists together and swung at John. The air whistled as the new kid leapt back, and the fist went sailing by. John sneered.
"Missed me, asshole."
Simon stepped forward and swung again. This time John went with the attack, grabbing Simon's arm and twisting. The bully was spun around, his hand up between his shoulder blades. John pushed him down so that Simon was bent at the waist, and then rammed the larger guy forward, smashing his head in to the wall. Simon sat down hard on the ground, then slowly rose and turned to face John, who was crouched slightly. He seemed to be bracing for another attack. Simon obliged him by charging right in. John waited until the larger man was almost on top of him before sidestepping and swinging out with an amazing right, catching Simon in the eye.
A murmur ran through the assembled students. No one in this school fought like that. You never went for the face. For some reason, Suzanne felt a bit dizzy. It was okay, she'd had dizzy spells like this before.
Simon staggered a bit, massaging his wounded eye. His teeth were gritted against the pain, refusing to cry out.
He spun and swung at John, who turned with the fist that struck his shoulder and turned the maneuver in to a roundhouse kick. Simon attempted to steady himself, but John bent grabbed his wrist and the back of Simon's head. He pulled the bully over to a drinking fountain and brought Simon's head down on it.
The ceramic shattered, and water sprayed everywhere. Simon's face was cut in several places, and his blood mixed with the flowing water. He'd always worn his best clothes to school, if not properly.
Only the sound of breathing was audible, except for John picking up his bag and book, then walking out. As he passed Suzy he gave her a small nod as if to say "don't worry about it."
Suzy didn't remember having had anyone at school stand up and help her before. She'd only worry because she hadn't properly thanked him.
Dena was first to break the stunned silence.
"Damn, that guy's got some moves." She whispered, shocked.
***
Suzy made up her mind to properly thank John for helping her when she got home. Besides, the guy had helped her out of a jam. It would be impossible to dissuade people from believing that she was his friend.
"I'll be back for supper!" She called to her father, who was working in his office again. "Is it alright if I bring a friend?"
"Sure!" He called back, and she left, her bicycle zinging along the road. She knew relatively where John's house was, and simply retraced the bus route.
Fifteen minutes later she stood outside a clean, if dusty, home. She'd ridden for the last five minutes through the middle class area of town, something she wasn't used to doing. So she did what her father had instructed her to do: not make eye contact and talk to no one.
Suzy approached the front door nervously. There was no doorbell. Reaching a fist up, she knocked on the wood a couple times.
The door opened, and a beaming lady stood there. She was middle aged, with a couple wrinkles on her face. A few surgeries would clear that up. Suzy thought, then mentally kicked herself for thinking that.
"Why, hello, young missy." The lady had a sweet voice. "What can I do for you?"
"Is John here?" Suzy asked. "He, ah, helped me, today."
The lady nodded. "Yes, he told us about that. Go on. He's upstairs. Last door on the right." Her smile never wavered, but a certain tightness had set in around her eyes.
Suzy walked upstairs and down a decorated hallway. This was new to her. The house she lived in was decorated with a few pictures, but they virtually covered the walls here. She saw pictures of a young couple, then slightly older and with a small child, grinning from ear to ear. Moving on, she saw the same child playing in a cheap plastic pool, going to school, and building a computer. Eventually she found pictures of John today, wearing his loose clothing and that neutral expression on his face, like he bottled up everything deep inside.
Finally she reached the last door on the right and knocked. A muffled voice said "Come in."
She twisted the knob and pushed the door open. The walls were decorated with posters from games and books she didn't recognize. A computer sat on a desk in the corner, and an extra long twin bed was situated next to it. Situated at the far side of the room from the bed were a television and a game console. But what really caught Suzy's eye were the shelves of books. They covered two entire walls of the room, reaching from floor to ceiling. A stepping stool sat in a corner, to make reaching the top shelves more easily. What books didn't fit on the case was strewn about the room, ranging from a single book on the window sill to a large stack at the foot of the bed. Strangely enough, the room seemed to be empty.
"Out here." John's voice came from out the open window. Suzy walked across the room towards it and leaned out. John was flat on his back, one arm over his head, the other holding an open book. He turned to look at her.
"I don't think I even know your name." He said. "Come on out, Mom doesn't mind people climbing up here."
"Thanks." Suzy said. "But I just want to talk to you. I'm Suzanne Laurent, by the way."
"John Greenwich. But I'm guessing you knew that already."
Suzanne nodded. "Thanks for fighting Simon for me. I've taken some martial arts lessons, but I've never used them on anyone."
"Just have to have the will."
Suzy was silent. "Still, I owe you." She flinched as he raised an eyebrow. "No, not like that, I mean dinner. I want you to have dinner at my house."
John stood. "Sure. Be happy to." Suzy stood back as he climbed back through the window and tossed the book he'd been reading on the bed.
As they walked outside John grabbed a coat and threw it around himself, zipping it up to just below his collarbone. He called back to the kitchen. "Mom, I'm going out for a while. No need to make dinner for me!"
"Alright, son. Be back at a reasonable hour, and have a good time." Mrs. Greenwich's raised voice sounded from the kitchen.
"Okay!" John yelled back, and the two walked outside.
Silently, they strode up the street, Suzy pushing her bike along the way.
"Why don't you show much emotion?" She asked, curiosity overcoming her need to be polite.
"Because emotions tend to show people who you are inside, which can reveal weakness." He replied.
Suzy felt a shiver run down her spine, but she wasn't sure why. Perhaps because his normally grey eyes had turned a dull green.