Chapter 1
Part 1
Do you ever wish life had a reset button, so you could go back and do things differently? I do.
That button sure would have came in handy, not for me, I've never been one for regrets and I stand by the decisions I make. It's everyone else's lack of understanding and incompetent handling of situations I regret, which is funny since my lack of faith in others was the whole reason I got into this mess...
Forgive me, I think I may need to backtrack a little, let me introduce myself. My name is Dean Morgendorffer, I'm a seventeen year old high school student and proud Lawndalian, okay I lied; I'm not proud to live in Lawndale, but it sure as hell beat the alternative.
My old man, Jake Morgendorffer was set on me carrying on the legacy that had spanned three generations of Morgendorffer men; attending the 'prestigious' Buxton Ridge Military Academy. God knows why, from the stories he had told me, dad had hated it there, and it hadn't been any different for me. It had been hell, far surpassing the low expectations I had collected through my father's disjointed ramblings of his time there. It took almost three years, but I had finally persuaded my family to let me attend a normal school; the letter of an ensuing expulsion had made them see reason.
~~~~
A solitary teen stood at the gates of Buxton Ridge Military Academy, under a large elm whose shade he had sought refuge in from the blistering September sun. They had had the hottest Summer on record and the heat wave had carried through to Autumn. A cool breeze licked Dean's face as he dropped his bags, he felt a fat droplet of perspiration roll down the back of his neck and he shifted uncomfortably.
"Damned global warming." he muttered as he kicked a small rock and watched with disinterest as it danced across the quiet street.
Dean squinted into the hazy distance, through the languid heat ripples that rose from the hot bitumen trying to spot either of his parent's cars. A few minutes passed and a glimmer of red shone in the distance at the end of the long road and his mother's SUV came into view. He bent down, hoisted the threadbare duffle bags that held his personal affects onto his lean defined shoulder and stood, pulling himself to full height.
He sighed as he mentally prepared himself for the awkward drive home; days earlier via email, his sister had informed him of their father's disapproval of Dean's expulsion. He stepped out from the cool shelter of the tree and felt the bite of the hot sun as he slowly walked toward the curb. The car coasted to a halt in front of him and the engine idled as the occupants made no sign of exiting. Dean opened the rear passenger door and threw his large bags in with a small grunt, and noticed that the car held only one occupant.
Helen turned and nodded to her eldest, greeting him with a warm smile, "Come on, get in the front." her tone was calm and even. Dean was unsure if his mother was genuinely happy to see him, or she was using underhand tactics to lure him into a false sense of security, waiting until they were cruising down the highway at seventy miles an hour with no escape before letting the proverbial fur fly.
Dean slid into the front passenger seat and eyed his mother suspiciously, "Hey," he greeted as he adjusted his seat.
Helen waited for the click of the seatbelt before pulling away from the curb and driving back down the road in the same direction she had come.
The cabin of the car was steeped in an uncomfortable silence as Dean tried to gauge his mother's mood; the only sound was the buzz of static that came from the radio, peppered with occasional coherent speech as it dropped in and out of reception. Dean turned his attention to the arid scenery that flashed by as they drove and contemplated the absence of his father. He wondered if Jake had purposely stayed at home, unable to face him.
His attention was drawn back to his mother as Helen reached an arm out and turned off the radio and cleared her throat; she appeared to have read Dean's thoughts.
"Your father wanted to come, but he had an important meeting with some clients," she began, her voice not as strong as she wished it to be, Dean could tell it was a half truth and shrugged.
"So he could tell me in person how big of a disappointment I am, and how his father wouldn't have stood for my insolence?" Dean spoke into his hands that lay loosely in his lap.
"Your father would never see you as a disappointment, sure he's upset at the tact in which you've taken with this whole ordeal, and he doesn't agree that, despite the expulsion warning, taking you out of Buxton is the best idea, but-"
"Why is he so hell-bent on me attending Buxton anyway? From his stories and tales which have been told to me there, Dad hated that school. Why would he subject me to that type of environment?"
"That type of environment? Dean, Buxton if a fine establishment, and a good school,"
Dean scoffed, "Come on Mom, you're not that naive. Buxton may have been a fine establishment with great scholastic opportunities when Mad Dog graced the halls with his presence, or even when Dad was there, but you know as well as I that the standards have somewhat slipped. It's just a holding pen for today's misguided, disgruntled and often violent youth because the parents and schools couldn't cope with them."
"Even so, the way you went about getting yourself heard... Your abrasiveness, the antagonistic attitude toward your teachers and students, the constant sparring of wits with your upper class men, the backsliding of your grades- the list goes on. You're lucky you got off with a suspension with a recommendation to transfer to a different school, and an official expulsion wasn't put in place to go on your permanent record."
"How else was I supposed to get it through to you that I didn't want to go there? I tried everything else, you wouldn't listen- I never had a say in whether or not I actually wanted to go in the first place."
"You realize that your father's insistence of you staying there wasn't a sadistic wish for you to suffer the hardships he endured,"
"Then what was it?" Dean interjected.
Helen took a deep breath and turned to look at Dean briefly, "It was your grandfather's dying wish that you, being the only male in the new generation of the Morgendorffer bloodline, carry on the legacy that has been established at Buxton. You have to understand that your father's relationship with your grandfather wasn't strong, I was with your father for four years before I was introduced to him, and further meetings were few and far between; to say they shared a caustic relationship would be underselling it,"
"Then why adhere to his dying wish?"
"Receiving the respect and praise of Mad Dog was difficult task, although your father had done everything to appease the old man, only once did I ever witness him say he was proud of Jake; it was the day you were born. Siring a son to carry on the Morgendorffer name, in his eyes, earned your father Mad Dog's respect."
Dean sat in a contemplative silence while he digested the information, "Is dad really mad? Is that the real reason he didn't come down here with you?"
Helen diverted her eyes momentarily from the road ahead to her eldest son, "He's not pleased, but he'll calm down."
Dean nodded and returned his gaze to the passing scenery once again.
The adjustment of living a somewhat normal life and attending a regular school had been hard, and choosing to push the limits at Buxton had limited my choice of schooling; ruling out the private and prep-schools and having to settle for Lawndale's public school. I counted my blessings, when on the first day, I was lucky to find a kindred spirit in the form of Miss Jane Lane.
Dean stood on the footpath outside Lawndale High School alongside his younger sister, Quinn. He glanced up, ran a hand through his short cropped auburn hair and surveyed the throng of teens that filed through the front doors. He rubbed his eyes gently, no matter how long he had been wearing them; he couldn't quite get used to the feel of his contacts, the routine and constant physical tasks at Buxton had seen him do away with his glasses for a majority of the time, and wearing contacts had become routine, something he had yet to break. He scoffed as he watched a gaggle of giggly girls pass them.
Quinn pursed her lips and glanced at him uneasily, "Look Dean, I don't know if all that stuff about military school is true or not but I do know that if you try anything like that here, you're going to end up somewhere a lot worse than Buxton,"
Dean cracked a half smile, " 'Sis, I'm pretty sure the faculty here won't be handing out assault rifles to the student body, so I doubt the opportunity will present itself,"
"So it is true?" Quinn's eyebrows rose and Dean offered a nonchalant shrug. Quinn shook her head and placed a hand on her hip. "Okay, here are the rules. I've managed to achieve a comfortable position in the social standing here and I don't need you messing everything up. There will be no contact at school, we're strangers," she stared at her brother earnestly. "Dean, please?"
Dean sighed, "Look Quinn, I'm just glad to finally be back in a real school, with normal people. I'll leave you to your angsty teenage melodramas and social scaling, I've got better thing to waste my time with than messing up your life,"
Quinn breathed a sigh of relief and placed a hand on Dean's arm. "Thanks."
Dean shrugged. "Until I get bored." he smirked.
Quinn's brow furrowed as she scowled at her brother, then pushed him before turning on her heel and walking toward the school's entrance.
Jane Lane watched the scene with intrigue; Quinn Morgendorffer was relatively new at Lawndale high, having transferred three weeks earlier at the start of the school term. Jane had seen her rise quickly through the ranks of the social elite to secure herself a position alongside Sandi Griffin; self appointed queen bee of LHS, so witnessing Quinn speaking to a new male in public meant one of two things; a new suitor to join her ever expanding male harem, or a sibling. Judging from the smirk left on the male's face at Quinn's flourished exit, Jane was willing to put money on the latter and earmarked him as a person of interest.
"Someone who looks worth of my interest. Today may be one for the books." Jane said quietly, a smirk drawing itself across her blood red lips. She then followed the rest of the student body into the front doors.
Part 2
Dean stood stationary in the middle of the crowded school corridor, adjusted the strap of his backpack that had been thrown carelessly over one shoulder and winced as the shrill call of the school bell rang out. He watched as the adolescent masses scurried to their homerooms and waited for a break in the bustle, before attempting to navigate his way around the school. After a few frantic moments the sea of students had dispersed, the coast was clear and Dean strolled lazily toward the main office.
Dean entered the office area, approached the reception desk and let his bag slip from his shoulder falling to the carpeted ground with a dull thud. He placed an elbow on the edge of the desk as he leaned against it and peered at the young female brunette who sat behind the desk. He watched as she idly chewed a piece of gum and flipped through a glossy magazine, he spied the bright headline of the article she was perusing 'How to flaunt what you've got and make it work for you- ten tips for bagging the guy of your dreams that guarantee to work.' Dean rolled his eyes and cleared his throat to gain her attention. The woman raised her head and peered over the rims of her thin gold framed reading glasses, her mouth frozen mid chew; she looked peeved.
"Can I help you?" she asked impudently, as she impatiently tapped the bright pink talons she was trying to pass off as fingernails, on the wooden desk.
Dean felt himself recoil in disgust at her outwardly trashy appearance, waiting for her to wind the masticated piece of gum around one of her fingers as the icing on the cake. "I doubt it," Dean muttered.
The woman exhaled deeply and looked him squarely in the eye. "Was there a reason you chose to interrupt me?"
"I'm here to see the principal," he said.
The woman raised a questioning eyebrow and waited for him to continue.
"I'm a new student." He added, having a feeling he'd be using this line more than once during the course of the day.
The woman's features relaxed as she sat back in her chair and lifted the magazine off a pile of papers and files. She looked at the first page on the top of the pile and returned her gaze to Dean.
"Mr. Morgendorffer?" she said with a smirk.
Dean's brow furrowed as he took in her expression, befuddled as to what the smirk meant. He nodded slowly and the woman motioned her head toward the door behind her. "Ms. Li has been expecting you." she said in a dismissive voice, she sat the magazine back on the pile and continued to read the article.
Dean collected his bag from the floor and sidled over to the door and tapped on the large piece of mottled glass that made up a majority of it, seconds later a voice rang out instructing him to enter.
As Dean entered the room he realized that he hadn't considered his new principal would be a woman, although to look at, the female head of Lawndale High looked oddly closer to a Bulldog than a human woman. Ms. Li waved a hand at the empty seat on the opposite side of her desk, and waited for Dean to be seated before speaking.
"Mr. Morgendorffer, I've been waiting to meet you." Ms. Li smiled pertly, clasped her hands together and laid them on a thick file that was in front of her.
"I hope I live up to your high expectations," Dean answered in dull monotone.
The smile fell from Ms. Li's face and she patted the thick file. "Oh, I have expectations, but they're not high, believe me. I have taken it upon myself to organize this meeting to make a few things abundantly clear,"
Dean shifted his weight uncomfortably in the hard plastic chair, making sure he kept eye contact with the haughty woman; one thing he had learnt at Buxton was to not show fear or uncertainty to superiors, they fed on it.
"I took the liberty of contacting your previous school and I had a nice little chat with your headmaster concerning your transfer," Ms. Li paused and waited for a reaction, but none was given; Dean sat stony faced and waited for her to continue. "I want it to be know that here, at my school that kind of behavior will not be tolerated," Ms. Li's voice had gotten progressively harder, Dean noted her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized him. "I won't take your insolence sitting down,"
"Hemorrhoids acting up? I hear they-" Dean began a smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth.
"Mr. Morgendorffer, I will not be spoken to in that manner. You're skating on very thin ice boy; you're extremely lucky your mother is so persuasive," Ms. Li interjected the annoyance was evident in her voice.
"My mother's persuasiveness has nothing to do with your allowance of my admittance; it has everything to do with her firm's backing and considerable contributions to your endless fundraisers." Dean scoffed.
Ms. Li took a deep breath and eyed Dean with venom, "I don't know what your previous school's disciplinary methods were or how far those hacks allowed you to push them, but I won't be walked over by a smart-assed pubescent child like you. As of right now you are on a one strike system; you mess up just once and you're out. As a further course of action I am forgoing the standard psychology assessment and placing you directly into the self esteem class,"
"Self esteem class? There's nothing wrong with-" Dean started.
"Please, your behavior at Buxton says otherwise; constantly challenging your teacher's authority, the dramatic decrease in your grades, instigating fights; one ending in a hospital visit,"
"I didn't start that and I maintain that he kicked himself in the face." Dean gave a small smirk, he knew he was testing Li's patience and she was close to breaking point but there was nothing wrong with his self esteem, and he had no need or desire to attend such a class.
"This is not a matter up for discussion. You will attend the class, you will pull your head in and stay out of trouble, and you will participate in school activities. Failure to do so will result in immediate expulsion, do I make myself clear?" Ms. Li stood and eyed Dean, daring him to speak out of line, but Dean knew better.
Dean stood and met the irate woman's eyes, "Transparent." he answered.
"Good. They start this afternoon, you can collect you schedule from the front desk on your way out."
Dean nodded and retrieved his bag from beside the chair and exited the office, collected his class schedule from the taloned receptionist and proceeded to his first class, History.
Part 3
Jane let her pencil drop from her grip, she watched as it rolled across the desk and fell to the ground with a light clink. Her attention was then drawn to the open sketchbook in front of her, her eyes narrowed with frustration as she scrutinized her latest work; a lone skeletal figure clawing its way across a surreal landscape. The background now complete, Jane had spent the better half of the history lesson reworking the figure, the basic form was there but without a point of reference she was having a hard time completing the details. She shut the book and leaned over to collect her fallen pencil, as she sat back into her chair she heard her history teacher's voice enter her ears.
"…And furthermore-"
A sharp knock on the door brought silence to the room. Mr. DeMartino inhaled deeply and shut his eyes as he exhaled. Jane watched the muscles in his cheeks and jaw contract as he ground his teeth. Mr. DeMartino opened his eyes and glared at the door, then walked toward it, covering the space in a few short steps. As he opened the door, Jane arched back in her chair to catch a glimpse of the cause of the interruption.
Mr. DeMartino glared at the young teen that stood in the doorway.
"What, What is it?" He barked impatiently.
Dean wordlessly held out a folded piece of white A4 paper, and waited for the teacher to take it. Mr. DeMartino took the offering, opened the paper then turned to address the class. "Class, it seems our new student, Dean Morgendorffer, has finally decided to grace us with his presence. Find a seat and sit down." He ordered as he walked back toward his desk and leaned against the table, a maniacal glow lighting his face as he decided the most effective method to make the new kid squirm.
Jane watched as the teen entered the room. His face displayed a bored disinterested expression, he walked with no sense of urgency, he seemed neither shaken from his first encounter with Mr. DeMartino, nor worried about the stares of his new classmates. He stood at least five foot nine inches, although if he were to draw himself to full height, Jane supposed he would be closer to five ten, possibly eleven. His outward appearance wasn't one generally seen at Lawndale; Jane was having trouble trying to classify him, at first glance she found herself unable to place him into a stereotypical niche.
He wore an army-green, collared long shirt. The sleeves were rolled up to the crook of his elbow and the neck unbuttoned to his mid-chest to reveal a black tee-shirt, both untucked hanging loosely over his navy jeans. He ran a hand through his short auburn hair, a style reserved for a grown out buzz-cut; army brat, Jane surmised and a slight smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. As he looked around the room, their eyes met, his bright amber eyes locked with her crystal blues momentarily before they were set to an empty seat in the front row.
Mr. DeMartino waited until his new student was seated before setting his hawk-like gaze upon him, a malicious smile stretched across his mouth. "Last week we began a unit on westward expansion. Perhaps you feel it's unfair to be asked a question on your first day of class,"
"Excuse me?" Dean asked, his voice in perfect monotone.
Mr. DeMartino continued, "Dean, can you concisely and unemotionally sum up the Manifest Destiny?" his grin widened as he waited for an answer.
Dean rolled his eyes and took a breath before answering, "The concept of the Manifest Destiny has acquired a variety of meanings over the years, and its inherent ambiguity has been part of its power. During the 1840's, in the generic political sense however, most people used it to refer to the idea that the American government was destined, even divinely ordained to establish uninterrupted political authority across the entire North American continent, from one ocean to the other. These people didn't include many Mexicans."
Jane watched as Mr. DeMartino's face fell slightly, "Very good Dean, almost suspiciously good given your grade transcript from your previous school," Mr. DeMartino's eye bulged as he waited for a reply, which came in the form of a non-committal shrug. The disgruntled teacher gave a gruff sigh and set his eyes on the rest of the class.
Jane was impressed; the new kid was smart without being smug, cute but didn't appear vain, able to stand up to teachers without boasting and he wasn't an attention-seeker but whether he liked it or not, he had her's. Lost in her thoughts, she had missed Mr. DeMartino's latest assault on the witless Kevin and Brittany, and flinched as he yelled at the class.
"…I want a volunteer with the answer. Now!" Dean sighed and glanced around the class, no one had given any indication they knew the answer. He raised his hand, "Dean, stop showing off."
Dean stared down at the sloppy wet mess of pasta, béchamel sauce and tomato paste that should have been a lanagna. He looked up and glanced around the small circular table, at which the rest of his family were seated. Little had been said since Dean had arrived home that afternoon, beside the usual customary greetings. As Dean thought about it, little had been said to him since he had arrived home from Buxton three days prior. His mother had given him a rushed pep talk that morning, in which she had warned him to behave and not cause trouble, but his father had yet to say a word. The closest Jake had come to communication with his eldest child was a series of neanderthalian grunts, so it came as a surprise to Dean when Jake cleared his throat and began to speak.
"So... Dean... How was the first day of school?" Jake's gaze flashed to his wife and nodded; clearly the breach of silence that Jake and Dean had sustained over the past few days wasn't his idea.
Dean looked at Helen, raised an eyebrow, then turned to Jake, "My principal's a ruthless dictator that governs the school using methods akin to Hitler or Stalin, my teachers hate me because I know all the answers,"
"Oh, there must be something positive about your new school?" Helen interrupted.
"Well, there is a colourful selection of idiots in my class," Dean mused.
"Well, what about the self-esteem class? The school called me this afternoon and informed me that you will be attending the class after school most days."
Quinn scoffed, "You failed the test?" she laughed.
Dean looked at Quinn perplexed, "Test?" he asked.
"You know, the test with two people talking," Quinn rested an elbow on the table and pointed her fork at Dean, "You didn't say anything smart-assed, like I don't know, it was a herd of wild ponies running free across the plane, did you?"
Dean shook his head, "No, I never took the test. Li said she was putting me straight into the class because of my track record at Buxton."
"She overruled the school's psychologist?" Helen asked in a concerned tone.
"To say Li overruled her is implying the psychologist had a say; Li went completely over her head."
Helen smiled at Dean, "I'll see what I can do about it,"
"Don't worry about it," Dean interrupted, "Li's just trying to establish the pecking order- show me who's boss. She'll find a way to make me suffer one way or another. Let her do it the class only goes for a few weeks, I'm sure I'll cope. I mean, how bad can it be?"
Part 4
If I had to sum up my first day at Lawndale High in one word, interesting would be in the ballpark of adjectives I'd have used. My second day had truly been one of revelations, with introductions dealt with I was able to sit back and take in the workings of the school.
I discovered that many of my teachers had lost the enthused ideals that had once filled them when they were fresh out of college. Slowly but surely the knowledge that their teachings had little impact on their students had ground them down and made them bitter, hollow shells of the teachers they had once been. One in particular stood out; Ms. Barch, my Science teacher, although her depleted joy for teaching stemmed from something deeper then the brainless answers from the dimwitted lackeys of Lawndale …
Dean sat quietly at a desk toward the front of the class. He turned in his chair to survey the rest of students in the room, realizing the strong female presence in the first few rows of desks. In fact, he was the only male in the front section of the class; every other male student was seated in the back rows.
As Dean pondered this abnormality his thoughts were interrupted by the shrill, nasally voice of his science teacher.
"Class, put your books away, it's pop quiz time." Ms. Barch called as she walked toward her desk and surveyed the students, flipping through the large pile of paper she had been carrying. Her brow furrowed as she glanced at the top sheet and she let out a sigh. "It seems class we have yet another student, and a filthy male at that,"
Dean's ears pricked as he heard her speak and he looked up from the book he had been returning to his bag.
"Dean Morgendorffer, raise your hand." She barked, her eyes narrowing in on him as he obliged. "It says here to keep an eye on you, that you're a known trouble maker,"
"Excuse me?" Dean's voice was strong. He paid no attention to the collective gasp that sounded out behind him.
"Excuse you? You males are all the same; constantly making excuses. It's not my fault I don't take you anywhere. I didn't mean to leave you waiting three hours at the restaurant I had to work late. Working late my ass, banging your secretary behind the office's water-cooler…"
Dean's eyes widened as the tirade continued and he felt himself shift back into his chair as an ineffective means of escaping the woman; suddenly the seating plan made sense.
"… What do you have to say for yourself?" Ms. Barch had approached Dean's desk during her speech and now towered over him, her virulent gaze bore into his.
"I…err…" Dean stammered as he waited for the surprise to subside, "I think," Dean's rebuttal was interrupted by Ms. Li's voice floating through his head 'As of right now you are on a one strike system; you mess up just once and you're out.'
Ms. Barch raised an eyebrow, "You think what?"
"Nothing." He replied and let his gaze fall to the desk.
Yes, Ms Barch had been stripped of her compassion by a philandering ex-husband and felt it necessary to take it out on any and all males she had come in contact with since. The woman was in dire need of some loving, or a bucket load of Prozac, or both. Who was I to play doctor?
Amongst other things I had also discovered the meals offered by the cafeteria were little better than prison food, and in the process I learned that Ms. Li was perhaps the most corrupt being I had so far come across.
Dean stood behind the dozens of other students in the cafeteria's cattle run, waiting to collect their meals. He shifted slowly toward the service area and dragged the tray across the metal bench with him. His mind a million miles away, Dean jumped as he heard the wet splat of food that fell onto his plate. He examined the colorless food like substance and grimaced as he looked up at the lunch lady.
"What is or was this?" he asked.
The stocky woman raised her eyebrows and shrugged, "Vegetable protein mix."
"Gruel?" Dean asked a little shocked, even the food at Buxton had been better that this.
"Budget cuts." The woman sighed.
Dean opened his mouth to reply but was interjected by two students he had learnt were Brittany and Kevin; the school's darling couple. Dean turned as he heard them speak.
Kevin pulled at his shirt triumphantly, "These new uniforms are heaps better that the new ones from last year,"
Brittany smiled, "I know isn't Ms. Li generous? Our new pom-poms are coming next week! Just in time for the start of the new season." Brittney's voice inflected.
"Oh Babe, that's going to make your cheers heaps better" Kevin said.
"I know right? And now with the new uniforms the team is sure to start winning and break the three year losing streak!"
Dean's eyes widened; it was becoming apparently obvious the matter was more a case of misdirected monies than insufficient finances.
"I hope so, if the uniforms don't work, the new gym equipment definitely will." Kevin continued.
Dean shook his head, collected his 'meal' and walked toward an empty table.
Thankfully not everything about my second day had been bad. At the end of the classes, as I was preparing myself for the first of my self esteem classes, I happened upon a salvaging beacon of light from the dark haze of the student body.
Dean stood at his locker, barely managing to juggle the stack of heavy textbooks in his arms and gave a tired sigh as he was faced yet again by the obstacle that was Kevin and Brittany. For the third time that day he had the arduous task of interrupting the pair as they continued the gratuitous public display of affection in front of his locker. So far he had spent the greater part of the last five minutes trying to gain their attention, but to no avail.
"Excuse me." He tried once more, this time his voice louder than previous attempts.
A hand was placed on his shoulder from behind and a husky feminine voice whispered in his ear, "You'll never get anywhere like that, football folk tend to respond better to high-pitched noises,"
"What like dogs?" he answered as he turned to the speaker.
The first thing he noticed was the piercing crystal-blue eyes, set off by a boarder of long raven eyelashes. A cheeky smirk graced her dark crimson lips, the reflected gleam of the fluorescent lights glimmered across the shine of her lipstick as she nodded her head.
"Exactly," she chuckled. Her right hand disappeared into the pocket of her black shorts then reappeared, now holding a small silver coach's whistle. The smile broadened as she held it to her lips and blew.
The pair watched as the footballer stood to attention and ran down the hall, his perky partner following him in a huff.
Dean chuckled gratefully and turned to Jane, "Thanks," he said as he opened his locker.
Jane opened the adjacent locker and looked at Dean, "No problem. It was the least I could do, seeing as they have recently migrated from mine." Jane shut her locker and turned to Dean, "I'm Jane, Jane Lane." She held out her hand, Dean looked at it. "It's okay, it's clean." She smiled.
Dean took it, "Dean Morgendorffer."
"I know, you're in a few of my classes. It's nice to officially meet Mr. Mysterious,"
"Mr. Mysterious? I'm been called many names but mysterious was never a term of endearment used to describe me," Dean took back his hand and shut his locker.
"Oh come on, you're big news," Dean raised a questioning eyebrow and waited for Jane to continue. "The school is awash with theories of who you are; being seen with Quinn Morgendorffer on your first day drove up the interest a little,"
"You know Quinn?"
"Please, everyone knew her with in fifteen minutes of her walking through the front doors. But I have to wonder, why your parents would choose to enroll you a month later than your sister?"
"You know Quinn's my sister?" Dean asked. From what Quinn had told him, she was making positive that none of 'her' crowd would know they were siblings, more in fear of being seen as a troublemaker, or God forbid, unpopular by association. Dean and Jane began to slowly walk down the hall.
"Believe it or not I can put two and two together; two kids with the same last name enrolling in school within a month of each other seems more than a coincidence."
"Oh, it's just Quinn isn't the most forthcoming person when it comes to revealing her family lineage."
"Fair enough, but I find it hard to believe she could manipulate your parents into holding off on your enrolment day, just because she wanted to fool the in crowd. So spill, why enroll so late?"
Dean side-glanced Jane, a little stunned at her boldness. "I was expelled from my last school," he said, unsure as to how much he wanted to reveal to a stranger.
Jane gave a low whistle, "Wow, explains why Barch said you're on Li's watch list,"
"You saw that?"
"Hey, don't feel bad, she does that every lesson. All the guys just put up with it and hope to God she doesn't single them out. I have to admit, I was kind of hoping for a few words to put her in her place, like you did in History."
"Mr. DeMartino right, the one with the pulsating eye? I can't believe he go so angry over a correct answer,"
"Shocked is probably a better word, you'll know when his angry,"
"What, does the eye explode?" he grinned.
"God I hope so," Jane smiled fiendishly and checked her watch, "Oh, I have to go,"
"Oh," Dean replied rather dejectedly, this was the first time he had had a real conversation since he had arrived at Lawndale. He then remembered the Self-Esteem class, realizing he had no idea where it was. "Actually, do you know where room 155B is?"
Jane smiled. "Follow me; I'm headed that way now."
"You have low self esteem?" he asked incredulously.
Jane shrugged, "Ms Manson got hold of one of my art books and she found a few macabre surrealist drawings and suggested I take the class. What about you?"
"Given my past, Li put me straight in. She said my constant battles with authority were a problem,"
"Problems with authority, am I going to have to keep my eye on you?" she teased.
Dean shrugged, "Mostly teachers, a few couldn't handle my brand of humorous wit. I unfortunately have a low tolerance for stupidity, something my old teachers had in abundance,"
"Then this should be interesting. Doesn't stand a chance…" she mused.
"What's that supposed to mean? I can handle a self esteem class." Dean said a hint of defiance in his voice.
"I didn't mean you." She smiled as they rounded the corner and stood in front of classroom 155B.
Part 5
It became apparent what Jane had meant as he watched his Self-Esteem and soon to be English teacher talk. Mr. O'Neill was a softly spoken, seemingly timid man. Within minutes of starting the class he had broken out in a light nervous sweat as he stuttered on his words.
"Es…Esteem, a… teen…"
The man was clearly in need of listening to his own teachings, Dean watched as Mr. O'Neill retrieved a handkerchief from the top pocket of his shirt and mopped the glean from his brow. Dean shook his head; taking pot-shots off this man would be too easy, like shooting fish in a barrel.
As Dean listened to the teacher talk his brow furrowed, the Teacher wasn't making any sense; 'realizing your actuality'. What the hell was that supposed to mean?
Dean raised his hand and looked at Mr. O'Neill, who in turn, ignored Dean's questioning stance, let his eyes drop to his feet and allowed his speech to become rapid one word flowing into the next.
"Mr. O'Neill?" Dean prompted.
"Ah… It's not time for questions yet, that comes later."
"I just want to know what 'realizing your actuality' means."
Mr. O'Neill looked pleadingly at Dean, "Just… Just let me finish? Then there's going to be a video." He said and continued to recite his lesson.
As Dean lowered his hand he felt the presence of the person behind him lean in close and he heard Jane sultry voice whisper past his ear.
"He doesn't actually know what he's talking about. He has the whole speech memorized." her words brushed over the side of his face and danced across his cheek; a sensation he enjoyed more than he'd care to admit.
Dean turned his head to face Jane, "Then how does he expect us to learn anything if we don't know what he's talking about?" he replied.
"Don't worry, I've got the answers," Jane said as she slipped back into her chair, "I've taken the course six times."
Dean nodded as he turned back to face the front of the class.
Dean and Jane strolled lazily down the quiet street, letting the pre-dusk sun warm their backs, as it began to settle below the horizon. Dean was enjoying his break from routine, though in the back of his mind the knowledge that five PM was coming up fast. His brow furrowed as he thought, his parents would soon be home and if he and Jane were to continue at their leisurely pace, he would not be. Dean's penance for his behavior at Buxton hadn't been discussed at length, and having never been in this situation before, Dean was unaware of the usual procedure; he guessed a grounding would be the most obvious punishment.
"…Then they divide the boys and girls up into two separate groups and a female councilor talks to the girls and a male councilor talks to the guys. The female councilor talks about body image, not too sure about the males. Although a classroom full of guys and a male teacher, one can only guess,"
'Nocturnal emissions.' Dean thought, a slight smile ghosted his lips as he turned to Jane.
"I don't get it. If you know all the answers, why don't you just take the test and get out? You can have your afternoons back," Dean asked a little perplexed.
Jane smiled as replied, "Oh, I could pass the test, I just choose not to,"
"You purposely flunk the test?"
"Uh-huh, I like having low self-esteem; it makes me feel special." Jane smiled.
Dean smiled briefly and shook his head, "You're one strange girl."
"Don't you just love it?"
Dean entered the house and prepared himself for the onslaught of concerned parental commentary over his whereabouts. He saw that both of his parents' cars were parked in the drive, which meant one of two things; there had been a tragic accident involving Quinn or, God forbid, Helen and Jake were taking time out of their busy schedules to focus on him. Dean shuddered at the thought. The noxious scent that Dean had come to know as 'Mad Dog's Chili Concoction' wafted to Dean as he entered the kitchen.
"Hello Dean." Jake said, his tone stern although softer and less struggled than it had been the night before.
Dean looked at his mother who had been setting the dinner table, she had paused and looked at Dean. Helen rose her eyebrows and ushered her head toward Jake.
Dean nodded to Jake, "Sir."
Helen, sensing the imminent stall in conversation spoke up, "How was your day, Dean?"
"Fine," Dean shrugged as he set his bag in the corner of the kitchen floor.
"Just fine? How was your self esteem class?"
"The teacher's a hack, clearly in need of taking the class himself. Although I think I managed to make a friend," Dean said with a little disbelief, he had never been a social creature, even if he had wanted to, the caliber of guys to pick from at the academy were pretty low.
"Really?" Jake said with a little too much surprise, he quickly recovered and repeated himself in a more subdued tone, "Really, that's great,"
Helen shot a look at Jake that clearly meant 'don't push it' then turned to Dean, "That wonderful Dean, maybe you would like to invite them around after school one afternoon?"
"Ah, sure. I'll ask if they're available to meet our whole wacky family; that's a sure fire way to cement a friendship that's barely begun. Anyway, aren't I supposed to be grounded or something?"
Helen and Jake exchanged looks then turned to Dean.
"While your father and I feel strongly that what you did was wrong, we understand your reasoning behind your actions. So, we feel it's appropriate to ground you with a non parole period of two weeks."
Dean shrugged, "Fair enough. What else am I going to do, go shopping at the mall?" Dean scoffed, "Which reminds me, where's Quinn?"
"She has a Fashion Club meeting tonight, so you have us all to yourself, isn't that great?"
Dean saw through Helen's exaggerated upbeat demeanor, 'Somehow, it feels like I'm getting the raw end of the deal.'
"Great," Dean dead panned.
Dean stood at his locker and blew the silver coach's whistle he had been given from Jane's stash. What a girl was doing with upwards of twenty whistles was beyond him, he had asked and her answer had been about an abstract sculpture she was working on that was still in the concept stages.
He watched with a bemused smile as the dim-witted quarterback fell, once again, for the nifty trick and sped down the hall toward the football field.
"Every time," Jane's voice came from his side.
"Mmm, simple yet effective," Dean mused as he turned his attention to Jane.
"So I was thinking," Jane started.
"God help us all," Dean interjected, a smirk pinching the corners of his mouth.
"Ha, ha. Maybe, since I have the answers and possibly, if you can be coerced, to be a partner in crime… We can take the self-esteem test and have our afternoons back. What do you say?"
"Uh, I suppose, although I doubt Li would let me out that easily, remember I'm not there voluntarily. It's worth a shot." Dean said as he shut his locker and turned to Jane, who presented him with a few A4 photocopies.
"Cool, read over these during the day and we can take the test this afternoon, if you're up to it."
Dean nodded and watched Jane walk to class. He then redirected his eyes at the notes she had left with him. The answers seemed simple enough; basic common sense really. He had no doubt in his mind that he'd be able to pass the class that afternoon, although he couldn't help wonder what Li would have in store for him when he aced the test after only two lessons.
Part 6
I probably should have gone with my gut instinct and waited the classes out. In hindsight the Self-Esteem classes were tolerable, they did tend to impede on any after school plans but let's face it, I'm not exactly Mr. Popular, nor was my social calendar abuzz with activity. Although I have to admit watching Ms. Li's face morph with fury was pretty fun...
"Self-esteem is important because..." Mr. O'Neill read the first question tentatively and glanced up at Dean.
"It's a quality that will stand us in good stead the rest of our lives." Dean replied in perfect monotone.
Mr. O'Neill seemed to relax a little as he breathed a sigh of relief. He then turned to Jane. "The next time I start to feel bad about myself..."
Jane glanced at Dean and smirked before giving her answer, "Stand before the mirror, look myself in the eye and say, "You are special. No one else is like you."
Mr. O'Neill's brow rose and his surprise was evident, "Wow, you two really have been paying attention. Golly!" He looked down at his notes, "Now, there's no such thing..."
"As the right weight," Jane began.
"Or the right height," Dean said.
"There's only what's right for me," Jane continued.
"Because me is who I am." Dean dead panned.
Mr. O'Neill clasped his hands together and let out a joyous sob, "I don't think I need to go on. This is truly remarkable; Jane you've taken this class five-"
"Six." Jane corrected.
"Six times, and Dean, graduating the class after only two lessons, that's incredible. I have to inform Ms. Li!" Mr. O'Neill jumped up and ran from the room.
"I was afraid he'd say that." Dean said as he watched the teacher leave.
"Oh come on, what's the worst that can happen?" Jane asked.
"This is Li we're referring to. She is the one who put me here for the sole purpose of humiliating me, to send me down a peg or two."
"So worst comes to worst you're stuck here 'til the end of the month then you will have to retake the test," Jane shrugged.
"I hope so," Dean muttered as he heard two sets of footsteps approaching the classroom that Jane and Dean were standing in.
Ms. Li and Mr. O'Neill entered the room with opposing looks on their faces. Mr. O'Neill had a broad smile plastered across his face; Dean would have sworn he could see a glistening tear of joy roll down the apple of his cheek. Ms. Li, on the other hand, bore a scowl so deep her eyebrows almost engulfed her eyes and her lips were pursed tightly. She took a deep breath and leaned on the table and set her steely gaze upon Dean.
"Mr. Morgendorffer. Ms. Lane. It seems a congratulations is in order. Two firsts, first time someone we had all but given up hope for graduating the class," Ms. Li nodded to Jane stiffly. "And the first time someone has passed the class after only two lessons, you even got all the questions right that covered material not taught yet." Li raised an eyebrow toward Dean and stood straight, planting her hands firmly on her hips. "Now standard protocol would call for an assembly to inform your classmates of your achievement, but I can't help but feel there has case of foul play here. Purely instinctual, seeing as there is no hard evidence to confirm cheating. In any case, I've contacted your parents to discuss the issue further. If you will both follow me," She turned and began to walk toward the door, Mr. O'Neill at her heels, "Not you Timothy, you've done enough."
Dean and Jane exchanged glances and followed the principal to her office, where they were both ushered to take a seat, and Ms. Li retreated to her room. The minutes crawled past as the two teens waited for their principal to reappear. The silence was broken by the clop clop of stilettos echoing through the corridor.
"…Yes Eric, I know I said I'd be available all afternoon but something has come up!" Helen entered the office waiting room and spied her eldest child. "Yes well it's important… Something to do with the school… No it's not a shooting!... Just because no one died doesn't mean it's not important… No, no one needs representation, Goodbye Eric." Helen flipped her phone and put it in her briefcase and set her eyes on Dean, and arched a questioning eyebrow. "What happened?"
Before Dean had a chance to answer a tall, raven-haired tattooed young man joined the growing party in the waiting area. He looked around dazed before spotting Jane and walking over, taking a seat beside her.
"Woah, brings back memories." The young man shook his head.
The office door swung open and Ms. Li greeted the guardians of Dean and Jane, "Ah, we're all here, Mrs. Morgendorffer-"
"Please, call me Helen,"
Ms. Li smiled tersely, "Helen and Dean if you'd like to come in."
Dean and Helen followed the principal into her office and took a seat in front of the desk.
"I want to thank you for responding so quickly to my request for a parent teacher meeting."
"That's no problem Angela I like to take an interest in my children's school life, now if you could tell me exactly what's going on here, your secretary was a little brief on the details,"
"Of course, I do appoligize. You have been called here today to discuss your child's graduation of the self-esteem class this afternoon."
"Oh Dean that's great!" Helen turned to Dean and patted him on the arm.
Ms. Li cleared her throat and continued, "However, since he accomplished this after only two lessons, you can forgive me for assuming that he must have cheated,"
Helen set an irksome glare toward Li, "Perhaps, the reason he was able to pass the class is because he never had low self-esteem. Am I correct in saying that you personally placed Dean into this class without the usual evaluation?"
"Well," Ms Li stuttered.
"Am I also correct in assuming you don't have any formal training that gives you the right to judge someone's mental health?"
"I…"
"Then how could you possibly make the call on the status of his self esteem? How are you able to know if he were cheating, when there is no evidence to suggest it? If putting him into the class was to keep an eye on him and have him participate in a school activity, may I suggest something a little more productive?" Helen stood and looked down at Ms. Li and smiled at her; the smug grin contrasting the helpless shocked look on Li's face. "Are we done?"
Ms Li nodded her head.
"Good, and if the other student sitting in the waiting room with her…guardian… is part of this then I suggest they be sent on their way, since the matter is resolved."
"Fine." Ms Li responded bitterly and watched the pair leave, she called out to her secretary and told her to send the Lane siblings on their way.
Angela Li sat and stewed as she went over the scenario once again; the Morgendorffer woman was right, if she wanted to keep an eye on Dean she would have to find a better excuse than self esteem classes, but what? She stood and walk over to the window and looked outside, a smile crept across her lips as she formulated her next move.
"I can't believe how easy that was," Dean marveled as he and Helen drove home.
Helen shot Dean a small smile, "You're lucky. She had no case and she couldn't prove you got the answers off that girl,"
"I… How did you know?"
"Please Dean, give me a little credit. So she's the friend you were talking about?" Helen asked, her tone a little harder than it should have been.
"Yeah, Jane Lane. Not too sure if what we have is defined as friendship though," The car swerved slightly as Helen whipped her head around to Dean; she wasn't exactly prepared to do the sex talk, that was Jake's job. Helen had to give that speech to Quinn when the time came.
Dean chuckled lightly, "I'm not having sex with her, come on we only just met. What we have is an understanding, we share common opinions," Dean said vaguely.
"Which are?" Helen asked.
"We share the common opinion that people, well the general population are idiots and an understanding that contact with such people should be kept to a minimum. These people include a majority of the staff and students at Lawndale High."
Helen nodded, unsure if this answer was any less disturbing than the last, "Just do me a favor and play ball with Li, let me know what she is making you do so I can keep tabs on her, just… Just don't get into too much trouble, okay?"
Dean nodded, "Okay, I'm just glad I'm done with those classes and my life can get back to normal."
~~~
End Chapter 1