Yes, this unfinished story has been posted before and yes, the super smart author somehow deleted it. I switched computers with my sister in college and had to wait until she could email me all my stuff. Until she did, I held all of her crap hostage. So, once again for tonight, here's chapter one.
Chapter One: The Calm Before the Storm
"All I really need is a title, but I think I will anyway," seventeen year old Lindsey Brooks answered, taking up fellow school paper writer and best friend Kelsey's offer to sit in on the school's varsity football practice the next day. Both girls had their different reasons. Kelsey was writing about the undefeated status of the team. Lindsey would use the excuse that she and Kelsey were co-writing the article, but her real story was the steroid use being overlooked by the success of the team.
Most of the staff in on Lindsey's story knew she had some sort of unexplainable vendetta against the athletic department officials, but felt she was justified. The school's football and track teams- the most successful ones- were known amongst the students at North Gotham High as the most notorious. The varsity football team members especially were frequently returning to school after the weekends hung over and almost every day smelling of smoke.
Lindsey made sure to speak with the paper supervisor Mr. Riley for permission to write a potentially damaging article. Lucky for her, he shared her feelings about the biased, pretending to be oblivious coaches. The head football coach being his estranged brother worked in her favor as well.
"So, coach told me it'd be a long practice. Do you think you'll need a ride home?" Kelsey offered. Lindsey shook her head, "My Bug should be out of the shop by then but I'll let you know. You still good for taking me home today?"
"Of course."
As usual for the month Lindsey's blue Volkswagen Beetle was being repaired, Kelsey drove Lindsey back to her condo. Rather, her mother's boyfriend's condo. Lindsey's father died of a car crash when she was eleven. Her mother Joan started dating her British colleague Shawn Partridge three years ago a few months after the law firm they developed took off. The Brooks girls just recently moved in with him in his upscale condo before school started for Lindsey and Abby.
Lindsey felt moving in with him was a bad idea, and felt that her Bug being t-boned by a drunk driver only two days after the move was an omen. She didn't necessarily dislike Shawn. She just didn't feel he was right for her mother. Then again, anyone besides her late father would never be good enough for her mother.
On the contrary, Lindsey's nine-year-old sister Abby loved Shawn. Lindsey was convinced she only liked him because he went out of his way to spoil her rotten. Abby had him wrapped around her little finger.
"I'm home," Lindsey announced to the empty condo, just in case. She was greeted by a note and some cash on the kitchen counter.
"Linds," she read out loud, "Shawn and I will be going out to eat with Bruce again tonight. Mrs. DeFranc will bring Abby home from ballet around seven. The money's just in case you want to go out to eat or order. You can keep it if anyway if you decide to just eat home food. Shawn will be driving your Bug home tonight so you'll have your baby back in the morning. Love you. Mom."
Lindsey promptly wadded up the note and tossed it carelessly in the wastebasket. Shawn and especially Joan were close friends with Bruce Wayne. Joan lived next door to him until she went off to college. Being about ten years older, she was often requested to babysit the troublesome Bruce and Rachel.
Lindsey smirked; remembering a time Bruce admitted that Joan had been his first crush. She held no doubt he may still be somewhat attracted to her mother. Joan in no way looked like a forty one year old mother of two. Nevertheless, after Bruce's parents' death, Joan continued visiting and acting as older sister to him.
Lindsey didn't care to advertise the fact that she had an "Uncle Bruce" at school. While she adored him when he was just around her family (when he would treat them to dinner or stay with the girls when Joan and Shawn were out for example) she was repulsed by his public behavior, which turned him into an egotistical, irritating, sometimes dim-witted playboy.
As per every Thursday night, Mrs. Joyce DeFranc dropped Abby off at from her dance lessons. Joyce owned the dance studio and was best friends with Joan. She had a daughter Lindsey's age named Claire, who was the soon to be valedictorian at North Gotham High. Lindsey only knew her in passing, though.
"Can we order pizza?" Abby later asked after taking her shower. Lindsey scrunched her nose, "We had pizza last night and you had cold pizza for breakfast and for lunch."
"I like pizza," was Abby's eager answer. Lindsey found any attempts to convince her little sister with other food options futile. She decided to just order a small personal pan pizza and pocket the rest of the money.
Upon receiving her pizza half an hour later, Abby hungrily ate almost half of the meal. Lindsey wrapped up the rest and put in the refrigerator. By that time, it was close to nine o clock, Abby's bedtime.
"I'm not tired yet!" Abby protested, remaining unmoved on the couch as she watched cartoons.
"Well, you're going to bed anyway," Lindsey stated with resolve. Abby just folded her arms and pouted.
"Abby, go to bed," Lindsey ordered once more, and added with frustration, "You don't have to brush your teeth tonight, just go to bed!"
Abby put a finger to her chin in a thoughtful pretense before hopping off the couch and skipping off to her room. Lindsey figured she'd play Barbies or whatever she usually did before actually going to sleep.
"John got way too bulky way too fast. Did coach really not notice?" Kelsey commented the next day as she and Lindsey sat in the bleachers watching the football practice session. Lindsey chuckled, "Of course he did. He probably gave him the steroids."
"You know," Kelsey added as an afterthought, "You should include how the South Gotham coaches do drug tests once every month, even though the team sucks."
"Mr. Riley already got a statement from their coach about it. West Gotham too."
"It's a good thing we have three other high schools in this area."
Lindsey laughed, knowing where Kelsey was going with her statement, "I know. I'll have a few options when I have to transfer. They'll be willing to except me too."
The girls shared a laugh before receiving the stink eye from Coach James. He'd gone to military boot camp, but went back to teaching gym afterwards. The students thought he attended solely to learn new torture techniques for the freshmen that were required to take a full year of gym and were unfortunate enough to get him as their teacher.
Lindsey watched the players closely, keeping an eye on quarterback and MVP John Carey. He was the one who gave her inspiration on her story idea. He was least often seen with the team during their workouts, spent more time talking and drinking and partying than practicing, and yet had gone from the rather puny second string JV player in junior year to the star senior varsity quarterback.
John's evolution wasn't just from puny junior to hulking senior. In middle school, prior to his growth spurt before freshman year, he was the short chubby kid who would collapse struggling to catch his breath after tying his shoes. In ninth grade, he became the tall, lanky, awkward boy that his current girlfriend would toss back her head and cackle at the notion of going to homecoming together. Those of John's admirers would fawn over his hard work and dedication to become what he was that day, but others like Lindsey knew better.
It didn't help that John was an incorrigible asshole.
After practice, the girls retreated to the newspaper room to add finishing touches to their articles, which had to be sent to Mr. Riley for submission by the morning.
"I'm done," Kelsey announced, sending her page to Lindsey's computer for confirmation. Lindsey had to go through each page for the next issue to ensure the layouts were correct. After checking Kelsey's page last, she sent everything to Mr. Riley's computer for a final verification (or rather to add to the grade book).
"There," she half sighed. Kelsey had already left, so Lindsey shut everything down before exiting. As she entered the parking lot, she was somewhat surprised to find the sun setting. Checking the clock on her phone, she read 6:30.
As Lindsey made her way to her car (which Shawn had indeed driven home from the shop after the dinner date), she noticed an old pick-up close by with two men leering at her.
'Just keep walking. Don't make eye contact,' she thought to herself. A few of her friends had told her about encounters with intoxicated, middle aged thugs when staying after school. The school board had cameras installed in the parking lot after a few complaints for what little good they did. The school only had them turned on a few times a month for the same reason the heaters were rarely turned on. Frugality.
"Hey you," on of the men shouted as she passed the truck. Casting a glance sideways at them, Lindsey answered against her better judgment, "Do I know you?"
"We were just wondering if you could be used and abused for a little while," the older man said with a sneer. She suppressed a shudder and stated a firm, "Nope." She continued walking in a straight line toward her car.
"Now wait just a minute, bitch," the scruffy one shouted with an alcohol induced slur. She momentarily froze when she heard their car door open then slam shut. The heavy set rather tall one who'd called her a vulgar term was swaggering toward her and managed to grab her arm before she could get to the safety of her car.
"I think you're gonna give us a little ride, now aren't you?" he hissed in her face. Lindsey gagged at the putrid odor of his breath and tried to pull away, "No, I'm not."
He growled and roughly grabbed her by the waist, causing her to emit a terrified yelp. She jerked her knee up to hit him in the groin. He shouted in pain and doubled over. His buddy immediately hopped out of the truck and started running at her. With his short and scrawny graying stature Lindsey anticipated just how to get him down. Fortunately, he stopped in his trail as a pair of headlights blinded him.
Lindsey looked over her shoulder and saw a black car pull up along her car, caging the men in. Her face remained blank as Bruce Wayne stepped out of the back seat.
"Problem here, Miss Brooks?" he asked casually as he walked to stand next to her. The older man glared at him before climbing back into the drivers seat. The hefty one Lindsey kicked uttered a few choice words before limping back as well. Bruce and Lindsey stood in silence as the pick-up drove off into the night.
Bruce shook his head in disgust before gently touching Lindsey's shoulder, "Are you alright?"
She just shook him off, "Yeah."
"Has this happened before?"
Lindsey shrugged, "No. Not to me anyway." She added at Bruce's concerned look, "Telling the jackass principle won't do anything. He's the one who brushed off our winning football team using steroids because of the undefeated status and won't bother to turn on those security cameras because recording costs money."
He nodded, a knowing smile forming, "Your mother told me about that article you're writing about the steroid use. Very proud, I might add."
Lindsey scoffed, "Before of after she tried to convince me not to write the article? I really need to get home. Thank you, Bruce."
Bruce laughed, "You know I'm going to have to follow you. Joan's the one who sent me to make sure you get home from school safely. If she finds out I didn't, people get hurt."
"Huh. I never thought Bruce Wayne would be considered 'people,'" she responded sharply as she climbed into her blue Bug, "Goodnight." Without another word, she started her car and drove out of the maze called the school parking lot, fully aware that he would hold true to his word and tail her home.
Unfortunately, she wouldn't know the security cameras were on and recording until the next morning.
Nothing changed...other than the fact that it got deleted and has the emotional scars.
