Boyhood Rivalries

By Spectra16 (Hate me because I hate Nick Lachey)

A/N: How is everyone doing? Oh yeah, I'm open to ideas that you guys will give me. Every writer needs a little kick in the tush once in a while. Anyhow, I'm glad some of you decided to take a chance on an OOC fic. I make it a point not to introduce my OC in the first chapter. I makes the character less likely to have Mary Sue/Gary Stew characteristics. MEH.

Disclaimer: One of these days, the disclaimers were slaughter me and make a town spectacle of my rotting head. And because of this reason, I'm not writing another disclaimer for this story. You guys have already heard the drill. I've had enough. Just like J. Lo.

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Chapter Two: The Unauthorized Life of A Vengeful Teen

A snort bubble popped, waking the boy genius in the middle of his history class. Luckily, his insane Scottish teacher had returned, hopefully, more stable than he had been a day prior. Artemis sat up straight and tapped his pencil eagerly.

You know when you walk into a conversation between some acquaintances/friends, and you had no idea of what they were talking about, but when you start listening, it's something so raunchy that you say, "WHAT!" And then they tell you not to jump into conversations like that? Well, something similar to that happened to Artemis, except his teacher was talking to the class, instead of his acquaintances talking about something irrefutable.

"Edward I was put to death because of his homosexual acts. He was tortured for days before his death? You know how he was killed? His own government officials tortured him by taking a hot iron rod and shoving it up his ass! He died because his entrails melted together! THAT IS DISGUSTING! This is why we need to learn about our past mistakes, so that we don't make them again! JOHNNY! What did I just say!" The kilt-wearing, heavily bearded man pointed at a tired looking boy in the front of the class.

Johnny was not a good student. The school had labeled him "the rich, troubled kid" only because he smoked cigarettes behind the bike racks and beat up younger students. He had a blank face, as he tried to recall what his teacher had just told him.

"You said something about torture," He rubbed his eye. Mr. Monarski collected himself and wore a stern look on his face. Artemis nearly winced, knowing what was coming next.

"What did you learn from this?" Mr. Monarski asked sardonically. Johnny shifted his eyes.

"Not to be gay?" He guessed. Mr. Monarski slammed his hands down on the poor boy's desk and started screaming about selfish government systems and how they used their leaders. Something also about Edward I being a great leader, and how his own people slaughtered him because they didn't understand. After that, he made it a point that Johnny had used the word "gay" improperly. Artemis had heard the story before, and put his head back down.

A relatively handsome boy (adored both by girls and boys) smirked as he quietly crumpled up a piece of lined paper to throw at Artemis. He had always been jealous of Artemis, simply because he acted like he knew everything, even when he wasn't trying. This handsome boy's name was Kyle, only because all kids named Kyle are hot, I suppose. If you were to find an amnesiac, HANDSOME sixteen year old on your doorstep, who didn't know who he was, but could learn calculus and your language faster than normal humans could, and he loved to look up at the stars, and he also ate tea bags, you'd be forced to name him Kyle.

Anyhow, Kyle threw the ball of paper at Artemis' head, which was still laying on his desk. It lightly tapped Artemis, but did not wake him. Kyle was especially angry that the genius didn't become outraged, so Kyle decided to do something more efficient with his learning time, so he drew a picture of him holding an iron rod and Artemis laying on the ground. True, both boys looked like sticks, and it was kind of hard to distinguish between the rod to one's leg, but nevertheless, it pleased Kyle.

"KYLE! What are you drawing!" Mr. Monarski snatched the piece of paper away. His face went from flaming angry, to trying to understand what was going on.

"Oh, is this stick figure on the ground Edward I? And is this other figure the oppressive public at the time of Edward's rein?" Mr. Monarski asked, adjusting his vision by pulling his glasses down his nose. Kyle smiled sweetly and nodded. Mr. Monarski took the delicate picture and put it on the dry erase board with a magnet. No one could see the detail, but there really wasn't much to see. It was just two stick people, one who had a stick in hand.

(A random stick person pops out of nowhere and puts his straight arms into the air. "I'd prefer to be called "stick-American.")

A random boy, whom had similar characteristics to the author (even though she is mostly definitely not a boy, but for the sake of being in a boy's school, she somehow exchanged personality traits), raised his hand. Mr. Monarski called on him, hoping that he wouldn't say something stupid.

"Were you, by any chance, accused of being a CIA agent by the Mafia at some point in your life?" The boy asked randomly. Mr. Monarski puffed his chest out at the strange boy.

"We most certainly will not speak of that!" He yelled. Artemis groaned aloud. His teacher glared at the genius. Kyle rolled hid eyes. Here we go again, he thought.

Hopefully by now, you see that Artemis was not well liked by even his closest of companions, which were in fact a bunch of D and D obsessed adolescences who'd never seen a boob before (just trying to keep the general stereotype going).

But out of the hundreds of boys (and teachers) that attended (or worked at) St. Bartleby's, only one boy kept a personal vendetta to himself. His name was Capstan, and yes, that is a name I'd desire if I were a boy.

In any case, Capstan was not extraordinary in any way, other than the fact that he was completely obsessed with Buffy the Vampire Slayer and the Lord of the Rings Trilogy. In fact, when Buffy Summers (or Sarah Michelle Gellar, as I prefer to refer to her) did a promo for MTV when LOTR had one a movie award, Capstan had started crying, not only because it was disturbing, but because his two favorite fandom had come together to live in harmony. Well, almost.

Capstan, after years of his wealthy parents soiling and spoiling him, he was a few pounds heavier than he should've been, and a little bit snottier than we'd all like to think of wealthy teenage boys with an accent, from another country. Capstan was not smart in any particular way. His best class was math, which in my book is almost abominable. His favorite album was St. Anger by Metallica, but he had to hide that one between his mattresses from his parents, because they only allowed him to listen to the space-like, casino enhanced performances of Yanni. Needless to say, Capstan didn't listen to his parents, and he never lifted a finger around the house, except for when he wanted to, which was never.

Why was Capstan the only boy to hide his anger for Artemis? Well, because he was planning something so diabolical that he'd get one shot to achieve it. That day was coming soon, like a late London train trying to make up for the lost five hours that they were delayed for no particular reason.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Butler was in the bushes outside of the dormitories of the school. No matter than the dormitories were three stories above the ground. Artemis had asked Butler to watch the other students in case they were constipating against him with some sort of assassins. Even if Artemis hadn't suggested it, Butler would've done it. Once he reached the window, he lifted himself into it. Several boys were on the floor playing cards before they had been rudely interrupted by a large ape breaking into their room. In Artemis' first year, Butler had caused much havoc doing this, but now it was just another day.

"Do you have any Jacks?" One boy asked, ignoring the cash Butler made on the floor as he threw himself through the window.

"Nope."

Butler searched the room aimlessly. He checked under the beds for bombs, or bomb making devices.

"Do you have any nine's?"

"Neh. Go fish."

Butler lifted up the posters of Toad Ball champions, punk music, and one of Keanu Reeves in the movie the Matrix. He found no bugs of any sort, not that it would matter though.

"Do you have any Spectra16's?"

"What the hell? That's not a suit in a typical deck of cards? WTF, man!" One boy smacked the other upside the head. Butler ignored this childish banter and swung his legs out of the window to climb to the next.

"Sorry for the interruption. Master Artemis wants me to make sure none of you are conspiring against him," Butler spoke formally and climbed away. The boys ignored Butler as he left.

"Have you any threes?"

-.-.-.-.-.-

"MULDER!" Angeline hissed. Her husband, Artemis Fowl Senior, sat up groggily in their dark bedroom. Artemis rubbed his eyes and moaned.

"What is it Angeline? There aren't creatures under your bed again, are there?" Artemis whined. Angeline slapped him.

"Wake up! This is no time for you antics, Mulder. My name is Scully! And there's been an alien sighting just down the road," Angeline was already out of bed and shaking his confused husband. He pulled away from her.

"Go back to bed," He groaned. Angeline pulled his hair.

"OW! STOP IT!" He hissed and threw his blanket form him.

"Fine, fine. We'll go look for the damn alien . . . Scully," He stumbled to walk from his deep sleep. Angeline had a flashlight in hand and was putting the light under her face, as if she was telling a ghost story. She was honestly having the time of her life.

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A/N: Wow, that last part was pretty random. Sorry about that. It's just that I love it when Angeline is insane and Artemis is trying to understand her illness. It's just comical that way. And for those of you who are still reading, you guys are amazing.