A/N: Hello again! Here's Chapter One of Four Oaks! Hope you enjoy it, like always. As per request, Scourge is added to the characters! Scott Bledego is a new tutor who gets paid by Timothy Thomas to do some bad things… ;) This chapter is from Brandon (Brambleclaw)'s POV. Still don't own Warriors.
Bounce, bounce. The basketball glanced off the floor and came flying into Brandon's face. He hit it back down easily and glanced at the clock. 6:45. He didn't know what brought him to the school gym when school wasn't even started, but he was glad to have it to himself. Junior year was a big deal to him. It was his chance to turn everything around. He didn't have to be that criminal's devil spawn who happened to be good at sports. He could be the captain of Thunder Dorm's basketball and football teams, and the guy that everyone went to with their problem. It was ambitious, he knew. But maybe, just maybe, it would be worth it.
It was strange to him that all the paranoia surrounding him got worse once his father got out of prison on good behavior. It wasn't like Lindsay Lohan. There wouldn't be another incident. Brandon knew that everything would be all right with him. Thalia, Brandon, and their dad could be a family again. Sure, Thalia was the obvious favorite, and actually got to live with Dad, but Brandon wasn't so far off.
"Excuse me! This might be new to you, but this room is reserved for a dance team meeting." Brandon snapped out of his thoughts, and spun around. Of course. There was Skyler Finlay. Perfect start to the day… She wore yellow Soffe shorts over black leggings and a black leotard. A purple sweatshirt hung lazily over her shoulders, and her glowing bronze hair was twisted into a perfect braid. She was pretty; there was no denying it. She was also a bit of a brat, though. To Brandon, at least. That was part of the reason Brandon hated her so much. She wasn't obnoxious to anyone else, really. Sure, she cut class, got away with it, and pissed off the teachers when she got perfect grades, but she was decent to everyone. He knew that some part of her didn't trust him.
"I thought your little crew did field hockey," he sighed, referring to the gaggle of followers she had. He brushed his brown hair out of his chocolate colored eyes. Skyler smiled coldly.
"Well, there's this process called seasons, and you see, when it becomes what we call 'winter,' you can't go outside and play field hockey. So, if you're like me, you are the captain of the dance team during winter. And then, when it's 'spring,' I play varsity lacrosse." She batted her eyes and clasped her hands condescendingly. Another reason she was so infuriating: as a sophomore, she was captain of the award-winning dance team, and class president. "Besides, shouldn't you be asleep? You really shouldn't exert your brain more than necessary; it will just shut off one day." Brandon picked up the basketball and placed it on the rack.
"You're an idiot, Skyler."
"Well, then this is a school full of morons. Now, my dancers will be here soon, and we need to talk about try-outs. So, toodaloo! That's right, leave." She watched him stomp out the door, pleased with herself. Brandon bumped into a flow of petite girls, skipping and clapping as they rushed into the gym. Who would want to spend all their time dancing? What a waste. Sighing, he bounded out of the front door, and trudged back to the Thunder Dorm. The stately brick mansion stood just north of the main building, and was enveloped by trees. A statue of a rearing lion stood proudly on the lawn. Red doors welcomed students into the rooms. A bright green banner hung over the trees reading 'BOOM, BOOM!,' the Dorm's unofficial slogan. It had started with Mr. Greyson, a teacher now, but once a hilarious student. Every time he made a goal in any game, he would yell, 'Boom, Boom, for Thunder!' It just stuck after that. Brandon pulled himself up the steps to the door, and swiped his student ID. The doors clicked open, and he absorbed the dorm. Straight ahead, there was a huge common room, with ginormous TVs, and comfy leather couches. Several floor-to-ceiling windows bore painted-on jokes, sloppily done by the students. An enclosed courtyard lay beyond the windows, with reddish concrete tiles as a floor, and benches scattered around. Two staircases spiraled from the front of hall, and formed a huge platform above everything, lined by an iron railing. Various doors stood on the second floor, and the corridor stretched into both directions; one for boys, and one for girls. Mechanically, Brandon swung himself up the left staircase, ready to head back to bed. Ignoring his surroundings, he bumped into someone.
"Hello?" A familiar voice echoed through the hallway as Brandon looked at who he'd bumped. Oh. Jay Mason was the only blind kid at Four Oaks. He was a bit bitter about his situation, and stayed in the libraries most of the time, running his hand over pages of braille. His fingertips were slightly scarred from the harsh, raised bumps. In his left hand, he clutched a bright red leash, hanging on to a panting German shepherd. He'd never used the cane; he hated looking like it was a serious condition that everyone had to conform to. The dog tapped forward, nudging Brandon. "No, Pilot. Who's there?"
"Brandon." Brandon's voice went up an octave; Jay was always spookily calm.
"You seem tense. Anything the matter?" A chill ran down his spine. How did Jay always know everything about everyone? It was creepy.
"Just, uh, a bit stressed."
"You shouldn't worry about your father." Woah. That came out of nowhere. "Crimes aren't hereditary. Many people have been accepted into society despite their parent's deeds. Take John Quincy Adams, for example. His father was the first president to be impeached! Everyone hated him. Quincy Adams, however, went on to be Secretary of State, and president." Brandon felt strangely soothed by the words. Jay wasn't very popular, like his siblings, but people respected him. He was very trusted throughout the school.
"Thanks. Uh, that's nice of you. Where are you going? Do you want some help down-" Jay's eyes flashed a brilliant blue. He swung his head to Brandon. His eyes seemed to delve deep into his soul.
"I don't. Need. Help. They're stairs. I've walked down them before." Fuck. Okay, he wasn't friends with Jay anymore.
"Sorry," Brandon muttered. He raced down the hall to his room. His roommate, Bradley, was spread out across his bed. Brandon groaned. Out of nowhere, an alarm clock screeched. Bradley shot up.
"Wow. You're up already? Fast. I had the weirdest dream." Bradley was probably the most hyper guy ever. Always working, always getting ready for the next step. He woke up promptly at 7:00 every morning, did all his homework the minute school was out. He was sort of a role model to Brandon. It was pure luck, though, that they roomed together. "Where've you been this morning?"
"I was practicing basketball, until Skyler Finlay and her cronies kicked me out."
"Skyler's not that bad! What do you even have against her?"
"She's not that great, either. Besides, I don't have to be in love with her, just because everyone else is."
"Whatever you say, man. I guess you didn't happen to see what's for breakfast? No, never mind. I'll skip it. What do you have first?" Bradley pulled on some clothes.
"Umm, English. You?"
"Gym. Get to start off the day by getting all of my energy out. See you, Brandon." Bradley ran past Brandon, a smile on his face. Brandon leaned down and grabbed his school bag. His books were piled into a backpack, and the folded over cloth on the zipper was frayed. Resigning to another six-hour day of torture, Brandon swung it over his shoulder, and strode back to the main building.
English was everyone's favorite subject. Mr. Greyson was awesome. He made jokes the entire time, and commented on his favorite and least favorite teachers. Everyone did well, and no one was left out. At the present moment, he had a gigantic picture of a boy smoking a pipe.
"Huck Finn. Classic book, right? It's great as long as you don't screw up the initials. Because, if the first word started with an 'F,' I would be out of a job. And the book would be banned nationwide. Which it was, at one point! Huckleberry Finn was banned everywhere when it was written. Now, why do you think that would be?" He leaned against his messy desk and twirled the Expo marker in his fingers. Brandon raised his hand.
"Because of all the segregation in it?"
"If you mean the constant use of the 'N' word, you are correct. Publishers found this offensive, and many tried to substitute at least the word 'slave' with 'servant.' Other social issues were a problem as well. Apparently, Twain wrote it with all the wrong words. If you ask anyone, the reasons were crappy, but it was still banned. One problem was the use of the word 'sweat,' instead of 'perspiration.' Stupid, right? Yeah, and that's why the main issue here is the African American-White relationship. The slavery era was an awful time, but it needs to be acknowledged. This just proves how afraid people are of embracing their mistakes! If you just accept them, you can get something really great out of them! Not a.. half-assed job of a period piece where every slave was paid!" The class ignored his language, they were used to it. He paced the front of the room, and emphasized his lecture with his hands.
"Mark Twain saw that. And he was p.o'd. In fact, when it was first banned in 1885, he wrote to a friend, explaining that in the official statement to ban the book, it was listed as 'trash suitable for only scums.' Crazy, because now we all read it? So, hello fellow-scum!" The class high-fived each other as he waved. "Anyways, he mouthed off to his friend about how 'trash would sell 25,000 copies for sure.' And I love that quote. Because when you're a writer, t's important to understand other people's criticism, for sure. In anything you do, you need to learn to take some flack about all your mistakes. But you also need to go with your gut. And be proud of yourself. Because, honestly, who the hell cares what the book is if you're rich?" Everyone hooted.
Brandon drifted off for the rest of the class, turning the words over in his mind. He would never be able to completely let go of what others said. With all the shit about his family, it would be impossible. But he did have some good ideas. He knew he could make a difference if people would let him. And yes, it was dramatic for a guy who just wanted to be team captain, but it was sort of inspiring. His eyes closed languidly until a sharp bell rang and jerked him out of his seat. Contentedly, he moved to his next class. Life didn't have to suck so badly after all.
A/N: Ok, I'm kind of unsure about the last few paragraphs, but I had writers block, and just wanted SOMETHING to happen. How do you like it though? Good, bad? Review! Thanks for reading!