August 31, 1999

The classroom was filled with mindless chatter. Students who hadn't seen each other in months ambled over to their friends. How's it going? What did you do this summer? Nice to see you! Did you go on any neat vacations? Lucky, I just stayed home all summer and watched paint dry. How come you get all the cool trips?

Roxanne Ritchie was no exception. She leaned against a wall and chatted amiably with Sara, a timid but smart girl who'd been in her English class the year before. Sara didn't have any friends in this class- they'd opted to take the third-hour AP chemistry instead- and her smile was almost pathetically grateful.

The door opened again. Roxanne halted her rendition of her family's disastrous camping trip in the Boundary Waters to call out, "Hey, Syx, Kelly! Long time, no see."

A brilliant smile crossed the younger brother's face, lighting up his amazing green eyes. As always, the expression brought his face to life- not that there had been anything dead about it before his grin. Syx was just that kind of person- always filled with boundless energy that increased threefold when his emotions were strong and positive. "Roxanne!" he cried, and darted over to her. His older brother Kelly rolled his eyes and followed at a more sedate pace.

"I missed you," the green-eyed boy exclaimed. His thick mop of blond hair had grown paler over the summer, and his pale skin had tanned. "How has your summer been? And what about you- Sara, right?" She nodded. "How was your summer? Ours was- well, it was pretty boring."

"You need to train him," the future reporter told Kelly. "He still isn't giving you any chances to speak."

The older student grinned. His mouth was wide and filled with straight white teeth. "Do you know where I can get training treats?"

"You should just make them," Sara volunteered shyly. At the other girl's questioning look, she explained, "He was in my home ec class last year. He's an incredible cook."

"She's exaggerating," the senior disclaimed.

"She really isn't," his brother replied. "I'd do all sorts of humiliating tricks for Kelly's snicker doodles." He rubbed his thin belly for emphasis.

"You'll have to try that sometime," Roxanne laughed. Then she realized what she was forgetting and added, "Oh yeah! You guys need to give me your number and address so we don't go another three months without talking with each other."

As they always did whenever she inquired about their home life, Syx and Kelly exchanged quick, furtive glances. "We can't," the younger brother bluffed.

Roxanne placed her hands on her hips. "Why not?" she demanded.

Again, the shifty looks. "Because… we don't have… paper," Kelly volunteered lamely.

"It's the first day of school," their friend pointed out, dragging out an empty notebook. She glared at the boys' notebooks, which they had set down on the desk for the duration of their conversation. Kelly followed her gaze and blushed.

"We don't have pencils?" Syx asked.

Roxanne wordlessly handed him a pencil. "It's sharpened, too," she informed them.

"We forgot?" From Kelly's tone, he obviously didn't expect her to believe him.

She didn't. "You forgot your own home address. Both of you."

"…Yes?"

She sighed, wondering how to approach this- or if she even should. The Auslander brothers might know Sara's name, but that didn't mean she wanted to broach what was obviously a sensitive issue with a mere acquaintance around. Oh, she trusted the other girl, but there were some things that only close friends should hear.

Then Wayne Scott, more commonly known as Metro Dude, solved her dilemma by swaggering into the classroom.

Squeals erupted from almost every girl present, including Sara, as the white-and-gold-clad future hero floated through the door. He flashed a dazzling smile at his admirers and exchanged high fives with two of the boys. Several students applauded. Metro Dude's smile became wider. He waved at the crowd. "Thank you, thank you Metro High!" For that simple statement, he received a standing ovation.

Underneath the din, Roxanne heard Kelly moan, "How did he get into an AP course?" Syx, the only other person near enough to hear him, shrugged.

Students swarmed around their idol, desperate for a handshake or smile or simple nod of acknowledgment. Noting that Sara, too, had gone- and that Syx and Kelly remained- she deemed to safe to speak. "I know why you guys are so touchy about your home," she announced softly.

The brothers froze. "What?" gulped Syx. "You make it sound like we're hiding something!"

"But seriously, guys. I don't mind," she assured them. The poor things looked ready to panic. "There's nothing wrong with living in a homeless shelter."

"It's a lie, we don't- huh?" Syx blinked owlishly. Beside him, Kelly's jaw distended several inches from its regular position.

Why, wondered Roxanne, do I get the feeling they were expecting something else? "Yeah, a homeless shelter," she reiterated. "As long as it's warm and feeds you and stuff- well, okay, you should probably try to get out of there as soon as possible, but since you're still too young to hold regular jobs-" She shrugged helplessly. "There's not much you can do, so you shouldn't be ashamed about it."

Her assumption that they were homeless stemmed from several observations. First and most obvious was their extreme reluctance to talk about their home life, or invite anyone over, or even offer phone numbers and addresses. Second was their closeness. Never in all her life had Roxanne seen two siblings who loved each other as much as the Auslanders did. It was like they had no one else in the world to depend on, like they'd lost everyone and everything else. Third was their clothing choices. They wore the same set of outfits every week, rain or shine or snow. As far as she knew, they only possessed those five shirts and pants. That meant they were from a poor background, possibly dependent on handouts.

The homeless shelter idea had seemed quite plausible when she'd concocted it early that summer. It had explained everything, even how shy they seemed at times and their wariness of the filthy rich Metro Dude.

Except, judging from their stupefaction, the homeless shelter idea was dead wrong.

Syx recovered enough to gasp theatrically. "Oh, no! You've discovered our secret, hasn't she, Kelly?" He elbowed his brother in the ribs. The senior's jaw clicked back into place as its owner nodded. "You won't tell anyone, will you?"

"Do you really expect me to believe you?" she hissed.

"Believe me about what?" Syx was a picture of innocence. "You're the one who brought up the shelter and discovered our shameful secret."

"Oh, look!" exclaimed Kelly, pointing. "The teacher's here. C'mon, Syx, let's go look at the seating chart." He grabbed his brother's arm and dragged him away.

Mrs. Dorothy Truman was a plain, pudgy woman who looked like a grandmother-in-training. She didn't look like the kind of person who could supervise a group of explosion-happy teenagers in a room full of dangerous chemicals, but with thirty years of experience, she was more than a match for the student body. She didn't show it much, but she was quite capable of keeping even the worst miscreant under control. "Settle down, children, settle down," she ordered in her reedy voice. "I know, I know. It's very exciting to have young Lord Scott in this class. An honor indeed! But we have to settle down. I'll tell you where to sit while taking attendance."

Other than Metro Dude's pompous speech as to why he was taking AP Chemistry (apparently to 'better uphold the ideals of JUSTICE' and 'defend Metro City from the forces of evil'), it was a fairly normal class on the first day of school. They all introduced themselves and mumbled inanities about what they'd done that summer before plopping back down into their seats and looking over the syllabus.

The bell rang before they'd managed to get through the entire syllabus. The students fled- all save Roxanne, who was cornered by Metro Dude as soon as she'd gotten through the door. "Hey there, Roxie," he purred.

She stiffened. "We went over this last year, Wayne. I'm not playing hard to get. I'm just not interested in you."

Why was it that, instead of picking one of the girls who literally threw herself at his feet, Wayne insisted on chasing her? And, arrogant fool that he was, he'd persuaded himself that she couldn't really not be interested in him; she had to be playing hard to get. The alternative- that someone existed who didn't worship his very shadow, who didn't adore him wholeheartedly- was too crazy to contemplate.

Roxanne thought of Kelly and Syx. They didn't like Metro Dude. That was one of the traits which had drawn them together.

There had been an assembly at the beginning of her tenth-grade year, where Metro Dude had introduced himself to the student body and demonstrated (meaning, shown off) his powers. Roxanne had grown bored with the repetition. He'd done the exact same routine last year in their shared middle school, and the year before, and the year before. He'd probably repeat it again next year. Sure, it was cool that he could fly and all, but was it really necessary to juggle desks with his feet again and again and again?

Sneaking out had been easy. Everyone had been so preoccupied with the sophomore's display that they scarcely noticed her passage.

Syx and Kelly had been talking further down the hall. Bored, having nothing better to do, and more than a little relieved that she wasn't the only non-worshipper in the school, Roxanne had introduced herself.

And a beautiful friendship had been born.

Wayne's voice snapped her back to the present. "If you say so, Roxie." His tone was amused, patronizing.

Anger flared. "I do say so," she snapped, trying to push him aside. Naturally, it didn't work. "Do you mind moving? I don't want to be late on my first day."

His handsome face twisted into a scowl. As always, the frown took away most of his good looks, making him sinister and ugly. "I thought that you'd come to your senses over the summer. Tell me, Roxie, who is he?"

"What?"

"The guy," he growled. Despite his white and gold, he no longer looked anything like a hero. "The one you're seeing behind my back."

Her jaw sagged with a combination of rage and shock. Behind his back? He made it sound as though she were cheating on him! Or worse, as though she were his possession. So what if there was a sweet, clueless, funny guy she wanted to make hers? It was none of his business! She lied, "There is no guy, Wayne. And even if there was, it wouldn't be any of your business. Now get out of my way!" She shoved him, bounced back into the wall.

"How is your first day going, young Lord Scott?"

The principal's interruption was so unexpected that both quarrelers jumped. Wayne's head snapped around. He forced his face into a smile, making it handsome once again. "It's okay, sir. How is yours?"

Roxanne slipped away.

She spent the rest of the morning avoiding Wayne. It was fairly easy, because they wouldn't have any classes together until after lunch. Sixth hour, though, she might have to deal with him again.

"I need a battle plan," she muttered to herself as she sat down in the cafeteria.

"For what?" asked Syx. "Scott?" His expressive face became concerned. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"No, I'm- wait. How did you know about that?"

Syx reddened. Kelly smiled. "Who did you think sent the principal to your rescue?"

"You looked scared," his brother mumbled. He twiddled his fork. "Mr. Takashi was nearby, so I told him where Scott was."

"You're a sweetie, Syx," Roxanne told him. His blush deepened.

She spent most of the lunch hour relating what had happened and begging for help. Both boys were vehemently against telling a teacher- it was his word against hers, and who could doubt the precious golden boy? At best, Kelly proclaimed darkly, she would become a laughingstock; at worst they would make her a total outcast.

They eventually decided that Roxanne should stay in company as much as possible. Wayne had a reputation to uphold; he wouldn't do anything with witnesses around.

The plan came just in time, because Metro Dude was in her sixth-hour American Literature class. Roxanne gulped and gathered her friends around her like human shields, chatting rapidly about their respective vacations. When the bell rang, she was the first out the door.

By happy coincidence, Syx and Kelly were in her eighth-hour economics class. They escorted her to her locker without a word.

"You guys are the best," she told them.

"I know I am," Syx preened. "And we're walking you home, too, so you get to spend the next half hour in the presence of perfection."

"Yeah," chuckled Kelly, "and Syx here is coming too."

"Hey!" the other boy yelled, glaring at his brother. "I was talking about myself, you imbecilic ichthyoid!"

Kelly's face closed. Syx, realizing he'd said something he shouldn't, clasped a hand over his mouth. He stared at Roxanne nervously. The girl stared back, totally nonplussed. She'd only seen that kind of reaction when they'd let something important slip: that they had been raised by unrelated 'uncles,' that they knew a warden, that they had gone to school for one disastrous year before their long bout of home-schooling.

Ichthyoid, the girl thought, wondering what that was. She'd never heard the word before.

There was no harm in taking the direct approach, so she asked, "What's an ichthyoid?"

"I was trying to say imiod," Syx lied. "It came out wrong. You know me and my mispronunciations."

Roxanne halted. "Look," the girl growled, "I can understand if you don't to tell me. I really can. But if you lie to me, it's fair game."

Her fellow junior had the grace to look ashamed. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Roxanne decided to press her advantage. "And speaking of lies, why were you so shocked when I thought you lived in a homeless shelter?" An ugly thought struck her. "You're not completely homeless, are you?"

"Of course not," Syx replied. "We have a home, and it's a lot bigger than a cardboard box."

"Could we not talk about this?" Kelly asked softly. "It's not that we don't trust you, Miss Ritchie. It's just that…." He ran his fingers through his hair. As always, he avoided the very top of his head, moving his hand to the right. "It's complicated."

The girl debated. On the one hand, she was nosy. The urge to know things, to uncover secrets, was almost a compulsion in her. On the other, Syx and Kelly were her friends.

She heaved a sigh. "Fine. You win." For now, at least. "And for the last time, you idiotic ichthyoid, don't call me Miss Ritchie. It's Roxanne."

The name Syx belongs to silvershephard.

This chapter should have made a lot of things clear. Did it?