Derp derp disclaimed derp derp!

SO, sorry about the wait, those who actually read this. Originally, I had made a movie theater be attacked, just days before, you know, it really happened. So I guessed that people wouldn't exactly take kindly to that, so i basically had to rewrite the whole chapter - all ten pages of it.

But I got it done now, so that's all that really matters, right? Right?

~LJ

Dick had earlier invited us to sit with him and Artemis to eat with them. I sit down at the table outside with my food (which, by the way, was not nearly good enough for a prestigious school like Gotham Academy) when a certain someone appears out of nowhere, right next to me.

The only reason that I noticed the scrawny boy next to me is because he was breathing heavily. Honestly, I don't know how he got there, or when, but when I realize that the sound of his hot breath hasn't been there the whole time, I practically shriek.

"Dick!" I whisper-cry, trying not to attract too much attention to myself. It doesn't work. "When – how – what–?" The words don't seem to want to come out, but I think he gets the message.

He doesn't give me a response. All that he says instead is, "…Matt." Matt is a senior on the football team, I've learned, and one of those people. He's all brawn and no brain, and he intimidates the lowerclassmen into submission to his demands. A.k.a, the typical jock.

Before I can ask what he means, an angry shout echoes around the courtyard. "GRAYSON!" I facepalm.

"What did you do, Dick?" I demand softly and lethally. He smiles sheepishly.

"Oh, not much, really… He was being a jerk, so I filled his locker with…mud." Obviously, if you read between the lines, you know that it wasn't mud.

I narrow my eyes. "Where did you get…mud?" I ask, not entirely sure that I want to know. When he's about to explain, Matt comes barging around the corner, practically roaring in rage. Everyone around us is giggling and laughing at the large teenager, who, by the way, is drenched in…mud.

Dick cowers next to me, shrinking behind my figure. He's whimpering something like "Arty" or something, but I don't get what he means. Then, suddenly, Matt spots Dick trembling at my back and rages towards us.

"Grayson, who do you think you are?" Matt shouts, even though we're not even two feet away. "I thought you had learned the last time!"

I can't take this. I was bullied before by people like this, bigger kids who think they're all that, and I swore that I would never let it happen again to me or my friends – new or old. It's a horrible experience and has to be stopped. "Hey!" I stand up, pointing at the senior. "Leave him alone!"

"Or what, little girl? You can't do anything to me."

Unnoticed to him, a flash of brown, white, and blue whizzes behind him. I smirk. "You'd be surprised at what we little girls can do," Nicko growls as she grabs his arm and twists it behind his back. He howls in pain, but goes to grab her behind him with his free hand. She dodges it, letting go of his limb but elbowing him in the small of his back at the same time.

That's when I step in, kneeing him in the gut. As he doubles over, I slam my fist into his ugly face, relishing in the feel and the crunch of his now-broken nose. He howls again, just like a wild animal. He falls to the ground on his knees, groaning. If you listen carefully, a person could hear him sobbing quietly.

Dick's at our sides in a flash. "Come on," he whispers and grabs our wrists, dragging us out of the scene. Before we can leave though, I turn and spit on the ground next to Matt's head.

"That's what little girls can do."

Safely tucked in the janitor's closet, Dick rounds on us. "What were you guys thinking? You could be expelled for that!"

I raise an eyebrow. Was he really scolding us? "Um, I was thinking about saving your sorry butt from being beaten by an idiot." Nicko smiles at that.

Grayson seethes, breathing through his teeth. "That was stupid and rash of you to do. It's your first day and already you've beaten up the star quarterback of the football team! How do you think that will look to the principle or my father?"

We both frown at the same time. "What does your father have to do with this?" Nicko questions.

"He gave you guys your scholarships here!" Dick rolls his eyes.

The two of us are shocked into silence. This is one of the only times that we've both been completely quiet at the same time, with nothing to say at all. We both finally understand the situation that we have gotten ourselves in.

"So…we could lose our scholarships?" I ask tentatively. Dick doesn't answer, just looks away.

"Look, guys, I really do appreciate what you did back there. It means a lot to me." There was something in his voice, something defeated, as if he had just lost a war.

I sigh. "But that doesn't change anything, does it? We're still getting kicked out, and Matt and his broken nose still win." Next to me, Nicko clenches her small fists. She hates losing a battle as much as I hate the Justice League.

Dick shrugs.

I push past him and out of the cramped janitor's closet.

The rest of the day goes by in a blur until it's time for my last period. Scarlett and I are the talk of the school now, not just the new scholarship-nobodies. Some actually seem afraid of me as I walk through the hallway to my next class.

I glare at my schedule. It would probably mean nothing tomorrow, as I wouldn't need it as I do now. Right this moment it says that I have to go to my worst subject – World History. This isn't an advanced class for me, so I should only have freshmen surrounding me.

As soon as I find it and walk in, everything stops. All of the talking, the arguing, the texting; it all just stops. It's deafeningly silent. And then it happens. A girl in the back, with her obviously-dyed red hair and flashy jewelry and Oh-I'm-So-Much-Better aura, laughs. Then her friends start. Before long, the whole class is laughing, save a few.

I don't understand why. I don't get what's so funny. I don't know how the quiet had so quickly changed into this.

I don't like it.

Claiming an empty seat towards the back, I sink down and drop my bag on the floor. This was going to be great.

A couple of desks behind me, I hear a snotty whisper-giggle, "That's one of the girls who beat up Matt Earlson? She's so small!" There are a few giggles.

I swivel around in my chair, snarling. Scarlett says that I look like a rabid cat when I do this, so it doesn't work on her since she just bursts out laughing – unlike these prisses. In fact, they look absolutely terrified. Instantly, at their reaction, I smirk.

Nobody calls me small!

Scarlett and I walk to the Home in silence. Neither of us had been called to the office to be expelled, but that doesn't mean that it wouldn't happen later.

An alarmed scream splits through the air. We both turn to the sound and without a hesitation, we both sprint towards an ally (why is it that everything bad happens in allies? What's so horrible about an ally? I don't get it…) for the source.

It was the girl from before, the one that laughed at me and called me small – I think her name was Willow or something. She's got her hands full with some creep and another goon, and she's shouting and screaming her head off. I'm tempted not to help her because of the way that she treated me before, but I know that I can't do that, no matter how nasty she is.

I'm still tempted, though. She's a screamer, apparently.

"What's wrong with you guys?!" Scarlett snarls. She's always been the talker out of the two of us. "Bunch of perverts! Get away from her!"

I charge at the first man, delivering a sharp punch to his stomach and upper-cutting his chin. His head whips back and I jump up, elbowing his throat. The man coughs and sputters and falls to the ground, where I kick him into unconsciousness.

My attention is drawn to Scarlett, who's taking on the other man by targeting his pressure points and dodging wild attacks. She seems to have the situation under control for the moment, so I turn to Willow (she still hasn't moved. Idiot.) and hiss, "Get out of here and get the police, now!" She tears her eyes from my best friend and gazes at me, too shocked to do anything. Her eyes seem empty, like she's not even here, or as if she's watching a movie. "Go now!"

My risen voice snaps her out of her trance and she takes off, heading back the way she came. Whether she goes to the police or not, I'll never know, but I look to Scarlett yet again, just waiting for a chance to help. Though, I never get said chance because she roundhouse-kicks him and hurriedly dislocates his arm from his socket, and then finally renders him unconscious by bashing his head against the brick wall of the building beside her – not hard enough to kill him, but still harshly.

"Come on," she says darkly while glaring down at her victim, "We're done here." Her head snaps up and she snatches up her bag from where we had both unceremoniously dumped them. Then she's stalking off without even looking back to see if I was following or not.

A bit surprised, I sprint after my blond friend, never looking back at the men we had left crumpled in the dust of the ally. "What about the police?" I call after her, but I receive no reply.

"We tell no one about this," she hisses, suddenly turning on me once we've gotten far enough away. We have stopped, but I can tell this conversation won't take long. It's the way that Scarlett gets that means she's not going to argue – either you comply with her or you get out of her way.

"What? Why?" I cry, the adrenalin still pumping through my veins. "Don't you see? Didn't you feel how amazing it was back there, to be doing this for good?" She opens her mouth to protest, but I'm not done yet. "It was different with Matt. Those two thugs were complete strangers, but we still beat them up! I mean, did you feel the rush? I've always wanted to help people like that!"

I twirl around with my arms out like I would when I was younger. Though, I freeze at the look on Scarlett's face – it was almost painful. "Let's just go to the home," she mutters, turning around again.

I swear I heard my heart crack.

The two of us immediately run up the four flights of stairs to our floor to avoid the other orphans, but it sadly isn't to be.

"Nicko, Scarlett!" a squeaky voice squeals as we reach the last few creaky steps. A tiny bundle of children throw themselves at us, almost pushing us back down the stairwell – the first graders. The small group of six and seven year olds at the home always loved Nicko, and since I moved in and became her roommate, they've included me into their idols. Go figure.

Cara, the tallest and oldest, gave me a big bear hug. "You were gone for a long time, Lettie," she says, using her nickname for me, "Did you get detention?"

I squeeze her back, making her giggle a bit. "No, goofball. Now that we go to a different school, it goes for different times. Our school starts and ends later than yours does."

They all let out a little "oh" before Cara turns to a small boy and jabs a tiny finger into his side. "I told ya so!" she mocks, "Don't ever argue with me 'cause the leader's always right!" The boy, Nicholas, only sticks out his tongue and rubs his side in response.

"We have to go do our homework now," Nicko excuses gently, "so why don't you guys go outside to run around?" The first graders happily oblige and sprint down the stairs noisily. We don't bother to tell them to slow down because we know that they won't listen, as usual.

Nicko takes out her keys from her pocket and unlocks the door before pushing it open. We've long since learned that I always forget my keys or lose them, so she has become the official key-bearer of dorm 408. Inside said room is a bunk bed, a desk with our laptops and pencils and notebooks and such on top, a lumpy chair, a calendar, and hand-drawn pictures that cover the grey walls. It's not much, but it's enough.

Once in the safety of our room, we change out of our uniforms and into comfortable clothes – I wear a pair of jeans and a purple tee and she has her favorite red-and-white-striped shirt with some jean shorts – and we finally plop down on our respective bunks – Nicko's on the top while I'm on the lower. "Do you really have homework?" I ask my brunette friend while staring at the bottom of her bed.

She snorts, "No."

"Same."

Nicko rolls over, gazing down at me from the railing. "So, how was Double A?" she inquires.

I roll my eyes, thinking back to that awkward class. "Too easy." She chuckles. "What about Super Science?"

"I already knew everything," she replies, but I can tell that she's not saying all of the details. Do I do the fun way of getting it out of her – I pester.

"And…?"

Her mental barricades shatter like glass and her eyes widen. Ha, I gloat in my head, smirking, I win.

"I…I met…a guy." She cringes at my squeal. "N-no! It's not like that!"

Again, I roll my eyes. "What's his name?" If I could reach her, I would have poked her persistently.

"…Jason Todd…"

I grin at her. "Is Jason cute?"

She shrugs, locks of her short dark brown hair falling from behind her ear. "Yeah, I guess…" She hesitates. "But it really isn't like that, I swear. We just paired up for a science project 'cause we were the only ones that didn't have one."

"But at least he has to be smart, right? If he's in Super Science, he can't be all brawn and no brain."

She almost laughs. "He's a year ahead of us, dummy. So yeah, he's smart, but he's not as smart as me, because he's only advanced by one year," she explains, humored and exasperated at the same time.

"Bummer," I pout.

Nicko blinks but doesn't say anything more. I chuckle at the incredulous expression on her face. "So," I say, still hungry for more information on the mysterious boy. "Is he nice?"

"Yeah, sure. He's a bit moody sometimes, but he means well."

I scrunch up my face, as if thinking hard (which I'm not). "So, this 'Jason' is cute, he's smart, and he's usually nice. So, all in all, he's just about perfect."

"Well, I wouldn't say-" she starts, but I cut her off.

"Nope, he's perfect."

"Nobody is perfect-"

"He is."

"But-"

"I'm right."

"Hey!"

"Shut up, I win."

"But-"

"I win."

She falls silent and glares daggers at me from her bunk above me. I smile innocently to her, 'cause she always loses fights against me. Even when she's right.

"So did he give you his phone number?" I ask, sort of changing the subject.

Nicko nods and rummages through her backpack for a few moments while I stare at the bottom of her bunk. A small piece of paper flutters down. Levitating it closer to where it was floating inches from my eyes, I read the words typed on in small but easily readable print, "Jason Todd." Underneath his name was his cell and home numbers.

"He has his own business card?" I ask, eyes wide and jaw agape.

Nicko makes a doubtful and almost pitying expression. "We got scholarships to the school for rich and prestigious kids that we never applied for, and you're shocked because he has a business card? I'm surprised you even got into this building without breaking your neck."

I blush bashfully (what kind of a word is "bashfully," anyway? It sounds weird). "Shut it. I'm a blond – we're allowed to have our moments."

"So I've noticed."

I pout and stick out my tongue at her like a child. "Well?" She looks at me blankly. "Are you going to call him or what?"

Nicko's face goes as red as Barbara's hair. "What? Why would I do that?"

"To, um, work on your Super Science project, why else?" I swear, if she makes me spell it out… "I'll go ask Mrs. Hertz if he can come over and you call him. If she says no, maybe you can go to his house instead."

"Er…okay…" she pulls out her mobile and dials. I take off, tearing down the stairwell, smiling.

Riiiiiing…

Riiiiiing…

What am I doing? What if this is too soon? What if Jason thinks I'm annoying for calling him so soon? What if he thinks I'm obsessed with him (despite the fact that I've only met him once)? What if he thinks that I'm a stalker? What if he's not at all like he was during class earlier?

Riiiiiing… "Hello?"

"Ack!" I cry out, surprised.

"Is this Nicko…?"

I grimace. He sounds annoyed. "Y-yes…sorry 'bout that…you caught me off guard…" I hope he doesn't think I'm stupid for doing that. What if he does and doesn't want to be my partner anymore?

"You know, usually when you call someone, they pick up and answer," he says dryly.

I stifle a laugh. "So I've heard," I counter. "Anyways, do you…get together to work on the project, maybe? I mean, if you're busy, I completely understand; it's no big deal if you can't-"

"Nicko! It's fine! I'm actually not doing anything right now. My place or yours?"

Relief washes through me. He isn't mad or annoyed or anything, plus he doesn't seem to mind my rambling. That's when Scarlett bursts in, giving me a thumbs-up gesture. "We're all good," she puffs quietly, out of breath.

"Mine is fine," I say, and then give him the Home's address. Scarlett pads silently to the bunk bed and motions for me to put him on speaker-phone, just as he asks when, My friend holds back a squeal while I answer him that now would be great. She turns quickly to the desk and snatches up a piece of scratch paper, writing something down. She then holds it up for me to see and I have to roll my eyes, because scrawled in thick black ink are the words, "He sounds HOT!" The last three letters were much bigger than the rest to emphasize her thoughts.

She grins like a maniac at my expression. "So," I start to say, but a loud and familiar voice in the background cuts me off.

"Jason! Alfred has the car started already! Hurry up! Who are you on the phone with, anyway?"

We meet each other's startled gaze. "Was that…" Scarlett whispers, pointing to the phone. I shrug as Jason yells something back, but he covers his cell so it's very muffled at best.

The boy on the other end returns. "Sorry about that. What were you saying?"

"Who was that, Jason?" I ask tentatively.

"Just my annoying little brother, Dick. Why?"

My eyes go wide and I think one might have twitched. Scarlett's got one hand covering her mouth, no doubt suppressing an ironic laugh. "Your bother is Dick?" I repeat, still not quite believing it. When he confirms it, a mischievous grin spreads across my face. I sneak an obvious glance at my roommate, whose face falls. "Tell Dick that Scarlett says hello." A flash of their shared smile from this morning crosses my mind, only making me grin wider.

"What?!" she cries, springing forward to snatch the phone from me. "No! Do not do that!"

Jason sounds confused and startled from the other end as he says, "Um…who was that, Nicko?"

Déjà vu, much? "Nobody important," is my reply, to Scarlett's gaining anger. "Oh, and tell Dick that he's welcome to come, too."

"Wait, what?"

"See you soon!"

"But-" I click the phone off.

I turn to see Scarlett glaring at me from the floor, silently seething. If looks could kill, I'd be rotting. "You. Are. Dead."

"Gotta catch me to kill me, blondie!" I call, leaping from my bunk, landing lightly on the wooden floor, and sprinting past my enraged friend.

I never expected them to show up in a black stretch limo. Not once did I think that they would.

Mrs. Hertz didn't, either; in fact, she blanched when they pulled up and got out at the curb in front of the Home, with the chauffeur opening their doors and everything. The first graders, who were drawing on the sidewalk with chalk, all stopped and gaped at the two teenagers that stepped out.

At least, that was what we were told after by the other kids. I never saw it happen, because at the moment I was trying to kill my best friend/roommate.

"I'm going to kill you, you little brat!" I promise rather loudly once we enter the common room. Naturally, we skid to a halt right in front of Mrs. Hertz, an amused Dick, and some kid.

A very awkward silence follows as we stand there, with Mrs. Hertz's horrified gaze boring into our skulls and Dick's rather amused smirk practically taunting us for our behavior. We must look absolutely barbaric next to these prestigious, gracious, manner-minding teenagers from the way I threatening to murder my roommate (again).

Nicko clears her throat purposefully. I quirk an eyebrow, getting her hint: she wants me to break the silence, because I'm apparently good at talking all of the time or something (insert mental shrug). So, if not just to make her happy, I thrust out a hand to the other teenager standing next to Grayson. "Scarlett. Welcome to…here."

"Um, thanks for having me. I'm Jason." His voice was nice, just like on the phone, and he wasn't bad-looking either. He had dark hair and light eyes just like his, er, brother. That's still an awkward thought.

"'sup, Dick." He nods at me, still smirking. I frown deeply at him, so wanting to be telepathic so I could scold him without Mrs. Hertz hearing.

I turn to Nicko. She looks very uncomfortable. "So, um, Jason, why don't you and Nicko here head up to our room and, um, start on the project. Or whatever. I don't want to be a distraction, so I'll be off somewhere with Dick, K?"

Nicko's face mixes into a compound (and she says I suck at science) of relief and fear of being left alone with her "partner." Meanwhile, I seem to have just forced Dick on a date with me accidentally. I cringe, realizing my mistake, and glance at him to gauge his reaction.

He doesn't seem to mind. In fact, his smirk turned into a mini smile.

"Sounds like a plan," Jason agrees, and the two walk upstairs and out of sight. Then it's just me and Dick (and Mrs. Hertz, who soon reluctantly leaves).

"So what do you want to do?" I ask, only he's not there anymore, but at the door.

And with yet another smirk, he replies, "You'll see," so I have no choice but to follow him to our unknown destination.

Where is the secret place? Are the brothers falling for the most likely unstable girls, and vise versa? Find out next time in "Split Personalities!"

And that's what I would sound like if I were some cheesy announcer (which I most certainly am not!).

Btw, if you have any great ideas as to what should happen, who should come in, blah blah blah, please PM me. it would be much appreciated.

Insincerely,

~Le Jokerette