Disclaimer: I don't own Alex Rider, blah blah blah.

Chapter Two

The next, well, not really, morning, I got up on time and then actually washed my hair in the shower that was also in my bathroom. I got dressed in my uniform (a royal blue jacket with matching plaid skirt, white button up shirt and tie), pushed back my hair as best I could, what with it being so short, and went down to eat breakfast. Dad had already gone to 'Work', and Mom was already up, drinking black coffee and reading the news paper. How urban. She was already adapting. I said good morning and ate a breakfast of toast and coffee.

I asked mom where school was and she gave me a strange look and asked how she should know. I told her because she put me into the damn school. She consented to that, told me to watch my mouth, and gave me a map.

As I rode the new bike I had been given, with one hand on the handlebars, pouring over the map, searching the sides of the road looking for any signs of the school, just generally going along with the flow of kids also on bikes or walking, I tried to memorize the route so I wouldn't have to do it again, looking like an idiot.

When I finally reached the high school (the map turned out not to be of much use) I went straight to the office. If I've learned anything in all my years of moving around and changing schools, it's that if you want help, go to the main office.

When I eventually found it, I told the happy-go-lucky, too helpful, plump-with-purple t-shirt secretary that I was the transfer student and that I'd like to have a schedule and map, if you'd be so kind, pretty please.

She smiled and said, "Oh, Austen honey, if you need anything, you just ask "Me, Mary-Joe," okay?"

I could have gagged, but instead I choked it back, smiled, thanked her and headed for homeroom.

Apparently, homeroom here meant Goof-Off Half Hour. I sat down in the seat closest to the door for two reasons,

1) It meant a quick escape at the end of the period, and

2) It was the only empty seat.

When the teacher came in the noise went down only a little bit. A few of the students apparently wanted to keep somewhat composed in front of the teacher. But they were mostly girls, and the teacher was cute.

He had a booming voice and made all the kids shut up to sit down with a sharp, "SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP." It wasn't immediate, but most kids listened.

They were still talking, but in a bit more civilized volume. The teacher took role call. When he came to the end and still hadn't said my name I cleared my throat a little.

I prayed I was in the right homeroom.

After I cleared my throat so loud lots of people stopped talking, the teacher finally looked at me.

He seemed a bit surprised at seeing me there. And then a look of comprehension dawned on his face and I could tell he was mentally slapping his forehead, telling himself, "OH, DAMN! How could I forget?!"

Except with an accent of course. Hey, I'm American. Give me a break.

He regained a bit of composure and said to the class, "Okay guys, for real, be quiet. We have the pleasure of a new student this year, (quiet, Willkins)."

To me he said, "Why don't you come up and introduce yourself?"

How bout not? I thought mentally. I hated it when they did this to me. Made me come up to the front.

I stumbled out of my chair and stood in front of the class, and as soon as I said 'Hi,' there was absolute silence.

Either because of my lazy-lousy American accent, or because they were amazed a person as hideous-okay, I'm exaggerating that. I'm not that ugly-as I am could exist. But as I continued to tell them, "Um…Hi, my name's Austen Noirbusa. I moved here from New York. Nice to meet you."

Not. I didn't say. I'm not the friendliest of the bunch, if you haven't noticed.

There was silence a moment longer and then one of them said, a boy with spiky blonde hair and a thin face from the back row, "That's it? Boooorrring." in a sound of mock-disbelief.

I raised my eyebrows, and with a sudden surge of strange courage I said,

"Why, yes, that's all. Oh, wait, unless you would like to know that I've moved from Alaska to Arizona, to Iowa, to Idaho, to South Carolina, to Maryland, to Connecticut, to Texas, to Alabama, to every other bloody state in the Continental U.S., to Mexico, and to almost everywhere else.

I never imagined that I'd move to the U.K.. Now, Is that enough information for you?" I continued on for quite some time, spewing mindless obscenities towards the boy until I caught myself and flushed a cherry red, not believing that I could do so much damage in so little time. And in front of the whole class and teacher. I could at least have waited until later to yell at him...crap.

Like I said, my speech went on for quite a while, and in the end everyone was stunned into silence. Apparently, in England, people were expected to simply blow off any rudeness, and have decorum. I guess. Finally, a preppy-looking girl said, "What did she just say? I totally could not understand a word of that." Except it sounded like, "What dih she jus' saiy? I to'ally coul not understand a wourd of tha'." ……at least to my untrained, American ears that's what it sounded like.

The blonde boy on the other hand had a blank expression on his face and sat back down in his seat, for he had stood up during my speech.

Mr. Carson, I had seen his name on one of the papers that littered his desk, stood with a strange look on his face. "Thank you, you may go back to your desk." He said. I was surprised I didn't get detention for yelling like that.

The bell rang and I was the first one out of the room. I knew I was going to pay for my speech later. Why did I open my not usually so very big mouth?

Because you're an idiot, I told myself.

I was walking down the hall to Geometry when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around with a feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. I was surprised to see a very tall girl with the biggest eyes I'd ever seen. One thing was wrong though. They were RED.

"Congratulations."

It took me about half a second to realize this girl was albino. She had the eyes, of course. And her hair was so light it looked as if it were made out of white silver. Her skin was so pale it looked like marble.

Besides this adjective commentary on her appearance, her face's features weren't all that remarkable. She didn't have a speck of acne to be sure, but her nose was long, her lips were small and thin, and she had a long, gray scar.

I couldn't imagine what it was from. It went from her hair line all the way down half her neck, and it was to the right of her face, not down the middle.

I took all this in in about, as I said, half a second. My eyes lingered unwillingly on her scar. It didn't make her face look bad or deformed as it might on some people. It gave her face some interest and mystery.

Apparently, she was used to people staring. Finally, she repeated, "Hi. I just wanted to give you my congratulations." I was stunned. Her voice was so…HIGH it made my ears strain. It wasn't like nails on chalk board, it was like a trill of a bird. But unbelievably alien.

"Hi," I said, a tad cautiously as though testing my own voice for trill. I found it dead and gloomy. "Um, for what exactly?" I asked, confused about what she meant by congratulations. She chuckled a little bit. Not giggled, but chuckled. It was a hearty sound.

"I just wanted to congratulate you on standing up to Tom. He's got such a big head and is so rude. It was nice to see him go white as a sheet. Although I'm not sure it was in your best interest to yell at him like that on your first day." She smiled sympathetically as though she knew something I didn't, which I'm sure she did.

"Thanks," I said quietly, a bit frazzled by having someone talk to me. It was almost like having a friend.

"Oh, where are my manners?" she said, holding out her hand, "I'm Lillith. Lillith Thorn."

Strange, apparently even kids shook hands in England. Or maybe it was just her. I took her hand and shook it, feeling strange doing so.

"Austen." I mumbled just audibly. "You should know, though," I said urgently, "that I don't usually talk all that much…or that loud." referring to my speech.

She smiled a quirky smile and laughed a little.

"Austen," she said, "I think we're going to get along just fine."

I smiled. It hurt my face. How long had it been since I last smiled? I don't remember.

Wow.

**************************

After school that day I walked my bike home. I was too tired to stand without support, much less ride a bike.

There were a few guys from my school that also lived in the neighborhood, but we mostly ignored each other as we walked down the sidewalk.

I could feel their eyes on me as we walked towards our designated houses.

133. That was mine. I walked up the….well, walk, and towards the house that, except for the gold-painted iron number above the door, seemed to be looking in thousands of mirrors. It freaked me out how alike all those houses are.

I opened the door and entered, marveling again at how amazing the house was. My temporary home. I plop my book bag next to the door and walk to the kitchen. Dad's still at Work. Mom must be grocery shopping or something.

I rummage through the fridge, looking for something to eat. It's actually already full of food, so I wonder vaguely, in the back of my mind, where Mom could possibly be. Maybe it was true! Maybe we were staying here longer and Mom was out looking for a job!

I caught myself and tried not to think about it. I didn't want to get my hopes up. I was looking around the house yet again, when I found a note in my parents' bedroom. It was sitting on my mother's night stand and had been written hastily. I shouldn't be nosy. I know. But it was signed by my dad. To my mom. I can't just ignore that! I opened it up and read it.

Dear Kate,

I had to leave on another assignment. It's an emergency and I'm sorry that I wasn't there this morning to wake you up with a steaming cup of coffee.

I feel so bad. SO, SO bad that you've been stressed recently. I apologize that I've dragged you around all these years and I hope I can make it up to you some day. Though I'm not sure if I'll be coming back this time. I really don't. I'm working with the Red Raven. Please, please don't be alarmed and do not do something rash.

Hopefully I'll be home within the month, and we can stay here for a while longer. But, as always, if something were to happen to me, you know what to do with Austy. I'm so sorry, as I always am, that I must ask this of you. But please, please, please don't leave. I can't guarantee that you'll be safe. As long as you're here, MI6 will look after you two.

Lots of love,

Mark

I was in shock. My father. On a mission? The very idea was ludicrous!! I had heard of MI6 before. It was sort of like America's CIA, only English-style. But why on Earth would they need to "look after us?" And what exactly was Red Raven? I couldn't make sense of any of it.

At that moment I heard the door downstairs slam and heard my mother call "Austen?" I composed myself and went downstairs, letter in hand, fully intending to confront my mother about it. Then I saw her face. And all thought drained away. I knew something had happened. And judging from the letter I had just read, I'm assuming it was Dad. Something happened to Dad.

*****

A/N: Well, I really do apologize to anyone with an accent reading this. I don't mean to be rude, but Austen does. And I apologize for her rudeness. I sincerely do. No offense to anyone. . . I've got quite a bit of work to do on chap. 3. GUESS WHERE THIS IS HEADED! XD

~Celina~