How Far the Bully Fly

One of the things that first surprised Wilbur when he got back to his own time was that everything was still the same as when he left. He had kinda expected things would be... well, different somehow. But it wasn't.

It almost felt surreal going back to school again after all the excitement of time travelling, meeting his dad as a kid, almost ceasing to exist permanently, being attacked by a T-rex... the list went on.

He'd actually been back to his bizarre life for about a month now, but still...

That was about the time he stopped in his tracks as he processed the scene before him.

Jake was the nastiest bully in school. Ruthless and he never got caught. And he was currently hanging by his underwear from the school's tallest flagpole.

How he managed to get up there was one question, but Who did it was more important.

Jake was on the school team, and was in no way weak or little, and while Wilbur was awed, he also had to prepare for the fact that there might be someone worse at large.

Suddenly and silently, Jake's angry bull-eyes, small and beady, showing more white than really necessary, locked onto Wilbur's own. "Great," Wilbur thought sarcastically. "He blames me."

Safe to say, he was not going to be looking forward to that.

Homeroom was usually one of Wilbur's least favourite parts of the school day, so he was quite glad to get it over and done with.

Of course, this, unbeknownst to him, was when the second strangest thing that day was going to happen...

His homeroom "teacher" Ms Logue, was standing at the front of the room, most of his classmates there already, with a teen he'd never seen before standing boredly up there with her.

The teen look at him, and her eyes sent a chill down his spine. Her eyes were cold as liquid nitrogen, alarmingly intelligent, and calculating his every move with their bright royal blue depths. It was scary.

She must have been skinny as bones, because even her loose, baggy clothes couldn't disguise the fact she looked like she hadn't eaten in a very long time. He briefly wondered if she was one of those girls, but she really didn't seem the type.

"Fashionably late, Mr Robinson," asked Ms Logue with one eyebrow quirked. Wilbur grinned sheepishly, quickly slinking into his seat, ignoring the sniggers. There were always people later than him, who always got off the hook without a hitch.

But no, not him, since he was the kid of Cornelius Robinson that apparently meant everything he did was under 10 times as much scrutiny. He understood why, but that didn't mean he liked it.

"As I was saying," she continued on to the class, sending him a brief look he pretended not to notice. "Miss Pyerobi is new here. She'll be staying with us for the term, and hopefully longer."

Pyerobi gave a small, tight smile, like she highly doubted it.

"Please all do your very best to make her feel very welcome here," Ms Logue continued, putting on a charming smile. "Now, go sit down somewhere, and we'll begin our day."

Wilbur inwardly sighed. He really wasn't a huge fan of Homeroom.


People had tried to talk to the noob—uhh, Pyerobi. Well, Wyeth, actually. Pyerobi was her last name—but they learned quickly she was even more antisocial than Wilbur could be at times.

The second period of the day was science, and it was just Wilbur's luck that he was left sitting next to her.

"So... where're you from," he asked, trying to make small talk as the teacher flipped through his textbook.

Most teachers in the school used interactive boards, but not old Mr Scotts, no sir-e. "In my day real science and teaching was done with books and whiteboards," he would say, and that was that.

"Oh, you know," said Wyeth. "Places."

Wilbur didn't look amused, and she smirked. "I'm just messing with you. I wasn't born there, but I've lived in Minnesota for most of my life."

"O...kay," said Wilbur. Honestly, he hadn't even expected that much.

Mr Scotts drew up a diagram on the board, starting to talk about the properties of the molecule he was drawing. Then, "Wyeth, can you name this?"

"Phosphate, sir," she replied without really needing to think about it.

"Right you are. Can you tell me how we get Phosphates?"

"They are the naturally occurring form of the element phosphorus, found in many phosphate minerals," she replied again, sounding like she swallowed a textbook.

"Right again," said Mr Scotts. He drew up another diagram. "Now, in 2007, it was calculated that at current rate of consumption, it was estimated to run out in 345 years." He paused for effect. "However," he said loudly, startling the drifters awake and causing a few people to chuckle.

"However," he said more calmly this time, with a small smile saying he found it equally amusing, "just 5 years later, some scientists came to believe that a 'Peak Phosphorus' would occur in just 30 years and that at current rates, reserves would be depleted in the next 50 to 100 years." He paused for breath and to make sure everyone was awake. There was no sleeping in Science class.

A hand was in the air. "Yes," said Mr Scotts. "Mandy?" And class began in earnest.


Science class ended too soon, in Wilbur's eyes. There were two types of teachers in the world... those that were insanely boring, and those that were kinda cool. Mr Scotts was one of the cool ones... and a little insane, too.

But after lunch, he was about to face one of his most dreaded teachers ever... Mr Spook. Well, actually his name was Mr Spoon, but everyone called him Spook, because he was so boring his made you die. Not really, but it felt like it.

Now, Wilbur was actually quite good at Maths. Good enough to be able to pass the class rather well with just doing the homework, in fact. But in order to get the work, he had to be at class...

Ah well, at least it would be some extra snooze time.

Suddenly the hall was rather quiet. There were only a few people aside from Wilbur and he thought he might've glimpsed Wyeth, but he wasn't sure.

He recognised the people who came around the corner too many seconds too late. Damn! He had forgotten about that...

But all of a sudden Jake's eyes widened as he saw someone behind Wilbur.

"So nice to see you again," said a familiar voice, slightly rough but with a deceptive calm, and laced with vaguely adult tones. "It really hasn't been long enough..."

Wilbur whipped his head around to see Wyeth standing there with a slouch and a raised eyebrow.

His mouth was slightly open when he realised a simple, mystifying truth. "It was you who put him on the flagpole!"

Wyeth grinned like a kid in a candy shop, like she couldn't bear to keep that one under wraps, it made her too happy when she thought about it.

Jake grit his teeth, anger taking over again as his eyes became slits and his nostrils flared. He was obviously confident that he had the upper hand now he had three surly guys as backup.

But Wyeth was just standing there, drawing her back up so she was full, straightened height. She only came up to Jake's nose, but that didn't seem to bother her. "What are you doing? They'll flatten you," hissed Wilbur. But she just gave him a confident smile.

"I'd like to see them try," she challenged.

Wilbur facepalmed. There had been the slightest chance of no conflict before, but this solidified it. Wyeth was looking for a fight, going so far as to bait four of the school toughest tough-guys into a one-on-one fight. A fight that logical reason said that she was going to lose.

His initial plan had been to do something, but as soon as the first guys charged, he soon found himself watching like a stunned sheep.

In one fell swoop she had tossed the first guy effortlessly over her shoulder, and elbowed the other in the face so hard he was knocked unconscious, crumpling to the floor with his face smeared onto the lockers.

Wyeth quirked an eyebrow in challenge. That the best you can do?

Jake growled as the guy she tossed over her head recovered, charging at her at the same time as Jake's other conscious goon did. Wyeth tilted her head slightly as she sighed, ducking so she could get into a high-jump, twisting in mid-air so that her feet were planted on one wall, and her hands on the other.

The charging bulls collided and Wyeth winced. "Ouch," she mouthed drawn-out like. The two fell back, definitely concussed. Faceplant x 2.

Wyeth then dropped down and turned to face Jake, but the coward had already run off. Wyeth raised a hand, waving goodbye to the spot Jake had once been. She blew a kiss, took a bow, then turned around, completely ignoring the shocked faces of every single witness as she hummed a cheerful ditty that Wilbur was sure was "Drink to the Dark" as she walked off to Maths class.

The stupor only lifted once people realised ten minutes had passed, and even then they were sure they had hallucinated.

But Wilbur was absolutely sure he had seen what he saw.

And he was adamant that there was something abnormal about that kid Wyeth, something that he was going to find out...

His stomach growled out in protest.

...After lunch.


1781 words

Dan will come into this all, I say. He will!

But if people find this interesting, I require one single review before I get the next chapter up. Even if it's an anonymous two-word "Keep Writing" thing. Just one, that's all I ask.

Oh, and "Drink to the Dark" is something my friend and I came up with.

And now, My friend's official quote:

A promise is a binding oath... if you break it, you suck.

Toodle pip!~