Chapter One – New People

Alex first saw her on Tuesday.

He remembered it so clearly because he had just got back from Honolulu and his broken arm was giving him hell. The sling and cast that he'd been forced to wear not only restricted his normally top-notch reflexive skills, but also completely crushed the casual effect of the black shirt and black all-star trainers he'd picked out that morning.

And so, when Alex walked into form room, he was not a happy bunny.

"Good Morning, Mr Rider...decided to grace us with your company today?" His form tutor, Mr Ramisari observed him critically over the Homer Simpson coffee mug he had just brought up to his lips. Alex's long term absence was a standing joke at Brookland and so it was with appreciative glances up to the teacher that the other members of the form turned round to ogle at Alex's broken arm. Alex wasn't sure he liked Mr Ramisari. He smiled coolly at him before shuffling around to his seat.

Tom was less than sympathetic.

"Well you have been away for ages..." He said in response to Alex's whispered complaints. "And when you turn up looking like that..." An exaggerated eye jerk demonstrated the sling and cast.

"It's not my fault!" Alex began.

"I know mate...I know..." Tom held his hands up in surrender. "I'm just saying..." He trailed off, staring at his new timetable with false interest. Alex stared at his friend for a few more minutes before turning back to study the class.

Not a lot had changed. Lisa Greenwood had now got blonde highlights and Colin Moorham had an earring. However, there was something that wasn't quite right. Alex knew that if a terrorist helicopter decided to hover at the window outside the classroom, he could get up and throw his desk across to the far wall, acting as a shield to the shower of machine gun bullets and order everyone onto the floor in around 4.653 seconds. Something about his calculation seemed a little off today and it wasn't his broken arm, (he'd have to add another 2.341 seconds to compensate for that). No something was different. He scanned the classroom again, this time doing a head count.

There were 34 people in the classroom, including Mr Ramisari. Last term there had been 33. There was one extra person in the room. Alex craned his neck, trying to see who the addition was. If it was a Scorpia agent he could get his chair and...

Alex's thoughts trailed off as Mr Ramisari started to speak again.

"Now everyone..." The class fell a little more silent, although there was still the babble of chatter lurking around in the atmosphere. "You may have noticed we have a new addition to the class today. This is Clarice Richards and I'm sure you'll all make her very welcome indeed." Mr Ramisari's announcement seemed to have an unspoken 'Or Else' hanging after it. Alex didn't pick up on this however, as he was too busy feeling his stomach lurch as Clarice Richards stood up and gave a tentative smile to the class.

She was cute. There was no other word for it, really. Not in-your-face gorgeous, yet not plain either. She had a kind of freckly, smiley prettiness that seemed to look good everywhere. Her brown hair was the colour of honey and a little tangly at the back, falling in longish layers around her face. She was tanned slightly, yet not orange. Her skin seemed a slight breath of fresh air in the grey, slightly grotty classroom.

Alex didn't remember being quite this poetic since he'd sprained his ankle in Year 8 and had got a little creative with cuss phrases.

Tom was still doodling on his English book and seemed completely oblivious to the fact that Alex was hyperventilating next to him.

Clarice's eyes swept over the class. She was obviously nervous, yet Mr Ramisari seemed unable to pick up on this.

"So...tell us a bit about yourself, Clarice..." He said, scratching the bald spot on the back of his head.

"Er..." Clarice had turned an interesting shade of bright red. Just let her sit down you tit...The words had flashed through his brain before Alex even realised it was him thinking them. "I'm er...15..." Alex filed this information away neatly. She was fifteen, the same age as he was. "And I like drawing."

The class fell silent.

"I see..." Mr Ramisari said. "And why have you moved to this area of London?"

"My Dad's new job is based here." Clarice stuttered.

"Right..." Mr Ramisari stared at her for a few moments, obviously expecting some elaboration. When none came, he gestured for her to sit down and she did so gladly.

As Mr Ramisari continued with the notices, Alex made a few frantic attempt to catch Clarice's eye. None were successful. It was quite difficult though, as she was determinately staring straight ahead at the whiteboard, not even blinking.

After giving up trying to catch her eye, Alex reclined in his chair, sighing. Tom stared at him.

"What the hell are you doing?" He asked, having obviously witnessed the many attempts at making eye contact with Clarice. Alex gestured towards his neck, trying to make out he had a crick in it. Tom looked less than convinced but returned to his doodling anyway.

Alex daydreamed for the rest of form time, staring blankly at the back of Clarice's head. Unbeknown to him, his arch nemesis was leaning against the doorframe of the next classroom, wondering exactly how to kill him.