I move around the food on my plate with my fork, because I've lost my appetite. At first, I have some desire to eat the lobster, but now it's about as attractive as toilet paper. For the first time in a long time I'm nervous about the next day. My cheek sinks more into the palm of my hand when I think about that.

My eyes lift up to look at the long, empty chairs that line my dark oak table. They make everything worse than it felt before. There's nobody to talk to right now, nobody to tell me that there's nothing to be nervous about. It'll change in a minute I'm sure, but for now, I'm alone with my nervous-inducing thoughts.

Just as the spears of my fork pierce a perfectly cooked piece of lobster the sound of approaching footsteps echoes off of the dining room walls. My hand stills and I watch as Alfred walks into the room with his hands behind his back like always. His calm demeanor is something that resonates within me, allowing me to forget about tomorrow for just a minute. The man moves beside me with an analytic gaze and he quirks a black eyebrow at me.

"Is your dinner not cooked to your liking, Master Bruce?"

"No, Alfred, it is. Like always" I tell him with a shy grin.

His eyes look at me for a few seconds as the cogs in his head begin to think. It won't take long for him to realize what's bothering me. With Alfred it never takes long at all. It's like he has some incredible ability to read my mind like it's an open book.

"Perhaps you've lost your appetite then?"

I push around the food for a second and mumble back, "yes."

"Am I correct in assuming that your first day in high school has you nervous?"

Right again. "Yes."

"What exactly has you afraid or nervous?"

"Well, it's completely new to me. I know nobody, it's a new environment, and it's a new level of education. No longer do I get to stay around the manor with tutors. I'm not sure how confident I am with that."

"I see." Alfred sits down in the seat to my right and places his interlaced hands on the table. "First, you do realize, Master Bruce, that you cannot hole yourself up in this home forever. It's completely unhealthy physically as well as mentally."

"But I have you, Alfred. That's company, y'know. I also have the tutors and landscapers to talk to. Then there's the Wayne Enterprise representatives as well."

"And how old are these acquaintances of yours?"

"I dunno. Anywhere from thirty to sixty or so?" He gives me a look that he hopes will push his point forward, but I push back. "There's infinite wisdom in the minds of those people. It could provide me with more insight than any stereotypical education."

"Perhaps" he relents though there's more to it than allowing me this momentary victory. "However, their 'insight' will not allow you to inherit the company as you so wish. I doubt the board will look highly upon a young man who's been educated by landscapers. They won't handover the company to anyone who doesn't have an education, no matter who you may be."

He's right and we both know it. I go back to pushing around my dinner while we both think about what to say.

"You are, without a doubt, one of the smartest young men I've ever met in my life" Alfred says to me. "Whatever you dedicate yourself to you succeed in. I don't think anyone on this Earth has the determination that you do, Bruce. If you want to succeed, you shall. If you want to make friends, you will. The only question is, do you want to?"

"Of course I do, doesn't mean that I know what to expect."

"No one will. This is a brand-new facility that holds an incredible amount of prestige due to its faculty and the money that went into building it. Every student there is in the same exact boat that you are. It's foreign to everyone."

I breath hard out of my nose and finally eat. Everything Alfred says makes sense to me. It's the simple rationale that makes me understand his points even if I don't feel perfect about the situation. It is a brand new private high school that no one has any knowledge about. We footed a lot of the bill for it, but they didn't bother to tell me anything more than 'it's prestige will be known across the globe. From Gotham to Tokyo, everyone will want to come here'.

Since they already met the enrollment cap of 800 I'd say they're right.

"I suppose you're right."

"That's nothing new then" Alfred says as he gets up from the table. "No eat dinner and make sure your things are prepared for tomorrow. Print off your schedule, get your uniform ready, and please make sure that everything you need is in your backpack."

"I will."

"Good. I'll see you in a bit." With his hands remained behind his back Alfred exits the room to continue whatever he was doing.

In silence I eat the rest of my dinner then head up to bed to make sure that everything is ready for tomorrow morning. I make sure that my forms are in my backpack, that my pens are packed, and that my binders are in place. The last thing I need to do is print out my schedule and get ready for bed as Alfred commanded.

I sign into the academy's website and ignore all of the basic info/welcome messages on the main page. It doesn't take long to find the section that I need and I scan over my classes as well as the professors who're teaching them.

Gotham Academy: Quarter I

Bruce Wayne – Sophomore

Gold Day's classes

· Homeroom – Siobhan Smythe

· Block One: Chemistry – Victor Fries

· Block Two: World Hist. – David Clinton

· Block Three: Phys. Ed. - Jay Garrick

· Lunch A

· Block Four: Study Hall

· Block Five: Criminology – James Gordon

Black Day's classes

· Homeroom – Siobhan Smythe

· Block One: Classic Literature – Jervis Tetch

· Block Two: Calculus – Noah Kuttler

· Block Three: Study Hall

· Lunch A

· Block Four: Psychology – James Gordon

· Block Five: Study Hall

Overall, it doesn't seem like a bad course load; three study halls should make things much easier for me when hockey starts up too. From the research I've done on all of the professors, I can say that all of them are pretty qualified for their positions. All of them have extensive resumés that satisfy even the worst helicopter parents. Personally, I'm most looking forward to Criminology and Psychology most since I already know the professor.

Just as I hit the button to print the schedule I hear a knock on the door. With a confident voice I shout, "come in, Alfred!"

He steps inside and looks satisfactorily at my bag. "I assume that everything is prepared for tomorrow?"

"Yeah" I respond and hold out my schedule to look over.

"Psychology and Criminology? Both with Commissioner Gordon?"

"Former Commissioner" I correct. "He retired a few months back when they offered him a teaching position. They're both electives that sounded interesting to me."

"That they do" Alfred comments. "Jim Gordon is more than qualified to teach both of those classes in my opinion. Besides, it might not hurt to have one teacher with previous knowledge of you."

"I'm a Wayne, Alfred. I'm sure everyone probably knows about me in one way or another."

"True, but I meant that he knows you as a person, not just the public figure."

"I haven't seen him in a few months though. We should ask him and his family over for dinner sometime."

"That could be arranged" Alfred agrees.

Ever since my parents died Jim has been a very good friend to the family. He'll visit us when he can or just make a call to check up on how we're doing. All of the money in the world couldn't make their loss any easier for us, but having one person care like that changed how I grew up. I miss my parents every day of my life, however Jim and Alfred make the days better whenever they can.

"Maybe I'll ask tomorrow when I see him."

"Please do, Master Bruce. Until then, get a good night's rest and I shall bring you to school tomorrow morning."

"Alright" I say making my way to my bathroom. "Goodnight, Alfred."

"Goodnight, Master Bruce."

. . .

When I step out of the car I must be surrounded by every kid who's attending the academy. Cars are moving non-stop in the drop-off lane with students pouring out of the doors. I give a slight wave to Alfred as he pulls off from the curb then drives away. Suddenly, I realize quickly that I'm more alone than I've been in a very long time. I close my eyes to settle my nerves and remember what Alfred said to me last night. I just have to want to make friends, I have to want to succeed and I'll be able to do it.

I resist the temptation to put in my headphones and just put one foot in front of the other. The flag flies high on the flagpole in the middle of the front lawn, the entryway has a huge clock on it, and there are several neat rows of flowers that spell out the initials of Gotham Academy. The school's colors of black and gold detail the doors and the tiles in the main lobby too. It seems that there is as much of those two colors as possible in the first part of the building.

Normal high schools are probably bustling and loud during the first part of the day, but this place has none of that. A few kids look like they're whispering on the benches and even they're barely engaged in them. Alfred was right, everyone is in the same boat as I am. Oddly, that fills me with some confidence.

I follow the map on the back of my schedule until I find the room of Mrs. Smythe. I reach out to open the cool steel handle when my hand freezes. My stomach feels uneasy and my brain begins to think of the worst situations to walk into.

"It's alright, Bruce" I whisper to myself. "They're in the same boat, just like you. You're determined to make this work. You can succeed here. You're a Wayne and Waynes don't fail."

The nervous look I had is replaced by a calm, collected one and I push the door open. The classroom is set up like any typical classroom; bookcases lining the walls beneath the windows away from the door, two-person tables are facing the white-board at the front of the room, and there are some posters on the walls. From what I've seen, it's just another normal classroom.

"Hello there!" a high-pitched voice calls out to me.

Looking to my right I see a woman with extremely long white hair sitting at a desk going over some papers. She looks to be about middle-aged with light blue eyes. When she stands I can see her white and black pinstriped dress-shirt is tucked into black pants. Overall, the woman looks extremely professional.

I shake her outstretched hand. "Hello, Mrs. Smythe. I'm Bruce Wayne, it's nice to meet you."

"Likewise, Bruce" she says withdrawing her hand. I try my best not to wince when she speaks, because every word sounds like it's at the same decibel level as a jet taking off. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. You're a popular topic among the staff members."

Gossiping already? Doesn't seem like the best sign, but I don't tell her that. "All good things I hope" I say with a voice that I think is charming.

"Nothing else" Mrs. Smythe replies with a smirk. "Mostly just things about your extremely generous donation for the academy."

"Investing in the education of Gotham is an easy decision to make. From what I've heard, this place has some of the greatest minds available as educators. When they came asking for help I couldn't say no to that. It's actually one of the reasons I applied to go here."

She laughs. "Spoken like a young man who hopes to run Gotham."

"Well, it's a good place to start if I'm good enough." In reality, I have no desire to become a politician.

"That's what you're here for, Bruce. 'Good enough' isn't something we have from birth, it's something we have to reach."

"Do you teach Philosophy, Mrs. Smythe?"

"I don't" she says with a smile, "I'm actually a Chorus instructor. They just gave me this room for homeroom. I've assigned seats for everyone, why don't you go find yours. Don't get unpacked though, because there's an assembly in the gymnasium that all classes are going to before the day gets underway."

"Of course. It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Smythe."

Finding my desk isn't too hard – it's right by the window in the second row of three. My name is on a notecard along with a bunch of others who will be attending Mrs. Smythe's classroom later in the day. I can't help checking the notecard next to mine to see who'll be seeing me every morning for the rest of the quarter. Zatanna Zatara – interesting name for sure.

My eyes wander upwards towards the door as the other students start to shuffle into the room. They greet the teacher before looking for their seats that are scattered about the room. It's a little overwhelming to see so many new faces at once, but I do my best to keep the confident exterior that I showed earlier. They're all in the same boat as me, I just have to remember that.

A girl with black hair shifting blue eyes starts to make her way around the tables until she glances down at the notecard on my desk. She looks at the card, then me, then sits beside me while slowly putting her bag on the ground. Nervousness radiates off of her in waves.

I decide that now would be a good time to make a friend and I also hope to settle her down as much as I can. In a kind tone I say, "hi. You must be Zatanna."

"Yes, I am" she says. Her eyes look toward my notecard and she begins to stare at it. I don't know if my name is going to help make friends or force people to stay away out of fear.

Zatanna hesitates as she looks back to me, so I again take the initiative. "I'm Bruce, it's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too" she responds and offers her hand, which I shake gladly. "Sorry, I'm a little nervous."

"Who isn't? This is a brand-new school with plenty of people who've never met before. It's completely understandable to be a little on edge."

"You're nervous too? You've given speeches to the press and been on TV how many times?"

I chuckle lightly at her statement. She has a pretty good point about that, but it doesn't change the fact that I rarely talk to people my own age. "I've never been to school before. Up until this year I've been tutored by a bunch of private educators. This is all a little overwhelming if I'm being honest."

"Up until this year I've been traveling with my father. I've never had the chance to be placed in a school, so this is as frightening as it gets."

There's my opening, a chance to take both of our mind off of things. "Traveling? Where'd you guys get to go?"

"Where haven't we gone? Vegas, Central City, Coastal City, Boston, New York, Metropolis, Toronto, St. Louis…that's all just this year."

"Sounds like a busy lifestyle."

Zatanna quirks her mouth off to the side and comments sourly, "being the daughter of a magician is like that."

"A magician?"

The girl's cheeks redden and her fingers tap nervously on the black pants of our uniform. "Yeah, it's a little ridiculous. It can be kinda stupid."

"No, not at all" I respond before she can dig herself a hole. "Magic is really great and a spectacular hobby to have. If you and your dad travel for that then you've got to be some of the greatest musicians in the world. I'm pretty jealous of that."

She eyes me a little suspiciously, like she can't believe me. "Are you making fun of me?"

"No! I'm serious. Sometimes I'll watch the specials on TV when they're on. Some of them are so good that I'm beginning to wonder if magic is real."

"Maybe it is."

I smile at her and she smiles back before our attention turns back to Mrs. Smythe who's beginning to go over attendance. She starts to approach my name since it's alphabetical and I know that it's going to draw attention. There's no avoiding it, so the best thing to do is act like nothing's wrong when in reality I have no idea what it's going to do.

"Bruce Wayne?"

"Here, Mrs. Smythe" I respond with my hand raised.

With the exception of Zatanna, everyone turns their heads in my direction. It's not a scene I'm unfamiliar with and I do what I normally do, smile back to those who look right at me. A few turn their heads back to the teacher while some return smiles with their own. Nobody offers a dirty look, which is appreciated.

"Alright class" Mrs. Smythe calls out to everyone, "this morning at first bell we're going to head down to the gym for an announcement by Principal Waller. Classes are going to be shortened accordingly and it's going to be an easy day overall. No one's going to give you homework or overload you today, but they might tomorrow. Take advantage of the easy day by getting yourself introduced to some of your peers. This is new for everyone, so don't get too anxious.

"Until the bell rings, which will be in about ten minutes or so, we'll go around to introduce ourselves. Say your name and tell us one of the sports you play. Alright, do we have any volunteers to go first?"

"I don't mind."

"Please, Barry, go right ahead."

Zatanna leans over to me – feeling a little friendlier it seems – to whisper, "her voice is so high pitched and she talks so loud."

"No kidding. Maybe we should call her 'banshee' or something" I whisper back.

The Banshee goes down all of the rows in succession and when she comes to our table I've already got my answers mentally prepared. I can feel the eyes of the other students glued onto me as she asks me about my favorite sport.

"Hockey by far. I'm hoping to tryout for the team come Fall."

"You should talk to Mr. Fries about that. He's coaching the varsity team and loves meeting anyone who plays."

"I'll do that, thank you, Mrs. Smythe."

"And what about you, Zatanna?" she asks.

Zatanna fidgets with her fingers for a second before she speaks. "I'm Zatanna Zatara and I don't play a sport. I'll watch the Olympics when they're on, but other than that I don't do much."

Mrs. Smythe comments to Zatanna before moving on to the tables behind us. Sooner than expected the bell rings and we all head down to the gym for the address by Principal Waller. Some of the kids are talking, but others seem to enjoy keeping to themselves.

"How come you play hockey?"

I turn to my right and see that Zatanna is looking back at me with interest. I can feel the corners of my mouth move upwards into a small smile. It's a little ridiculous, but I'm feeling pretty good that she's making the effort to start up another conversation after our first one. So far, I think it's a good start towards making a friend.

"Mostly because I love watching it. It can be aggressive sometimes, but it can also be graceful when you see a skilled player score a goal. Growing up it provided an outlet for some pent-up aggression and I've taken to it ever since."

"Testosterone at is finest then?"

"A little" I concede with a laugh and she chuckles a little too. "I don't mind checking others since it feels pretty good to put someone on their ass. Scoring though is more fun for me though."

She pauses a second as our class stops outside the gym doors. We wait for a class of Seniors to file in before us and it gives her time to ask, "ever been in a fight?"

"Once or twice. They weren't exactly the nicest guys I've ever played against; one guy threw an elbow at my center, so I didn't hesitate."

"Did you win?"

"That's everyone's follow up question." Zatanna seems to shrug a little bit, obviously interested in the answer though. "I walked away with a cut cheek, but he had a busted nose. I like to think I won" I say with a shrug of my own.

We walk into the gym afterwards and file into the bleachers that line the pristine basketball court. Mrs. Smythe shows us to our seats and Zatanna and I are bordering another class of Sophomores. There enough room between myself and my neighbors to have some elbow room, which I'm grateful for.

There's an entire ocean of students that sit in the bleachers. Some have begun to feel comfortable enough to talk to each other – a good sign that things may begin to feel normal after some time. I go to take off my backpack when my arms become tangled with the person next to me.

"Sorry about that" he says and pushes his glasses up on his nose. "I wasn't watching what I was doing."

"Hey, I did the same thing. No need to apologize. Besides, it's way too cramped in here to not bump into people."

"Maybe it's their way of making us talk to each other."

"In that case, my name's Bruce."

"Clark" the kid tells me. He grabs the water out of his bag then tags a swig from it. "It's nice to finally meet another student."

"Didn't they have introductions in your class?"

"Not really, no. I don't think there were enough people willing to share their thoughts. I'm…actually one of them."

"Not to worry, Clark. It's everyone's first day, so don't feel like you're doing anything wrong. I'm happy to meet another person, too." I tap Zatanna on the shoulder and she turns to look at me with raised eyebrows. "This is Zatanna. Zatanna, this is Clark."

They exchange pleasantries and we talk a little about ourselves before Principal Waller walks to the middle of the floor and stands directly on the school's emblem. The entire time she just discusses basics about the school, our roles as students, and how we can all make the year successful. She's not exactly what I'd call 'friendly', she has far too foreboding of a tone.

The three of us exchange looks when she starts to warn the students about disrespecting the facility or the staff. At one point Zatanna leans over to Clark and I to whisper 'oh shit' at one of her threats and I have a nasally laugh of my own. So far, the first day seems to be going well. I've got a good feeling about the rest of it right now.