Chapter 2: The Welcoming Committee
Courtney knocked on the Principal's office door with a sharp rap, just below the brass plate with, "Principal O'Halloran" engraved in place. The door opened to who Duncan supposed was none other. She was an older woman, mid thirties or early forties, with shoulder-length, two-tone blonde hair like she was hiding her age in dye and make-up. She regarded the two with bright blue eyes.
"Courtney, I see you found our new student?" she said gladly, swinging the door inward to let the two into her office. Duncan staggered a step as Courtney nudged him in first.
"Sorry to take so long in bringing him, Principal O'Halloran," Courtney said. "He was being…stubborn."
The principal's office was rather spacious, two shelves lined with books stood against the wall opposite the door, the principal's desk lay on the left, furthest wall while a table and a few chairs sat on the right, closer wall. Behind Duncan, on the wall from the door hung several certificates and degrees, a few of which, Duncan wasn't sure seemed like a necessary qualification, boasting of her martial arts ranks. The table at the right wall closest to the door was adorned with a covering and a small, round cake decorated in white frosting, with, "WELCOME NEW STUDENT" written cursive in red icing. Duncan had never seen a cake before, let alone tasted one. He wasn't sure what to make of it.
"Well, I'm sure he has his reasons," the principal said. Duncan broke from the catatonic state the cake's presence seemed to have put him in, looking back over to the principal.
"I just didn't want to be late to class," Duncan said shrugging. The Principal chuckled lightly. She sat on the edge of her desk, seeming relaxed in her position.
"It says in your files from East Blues you had a very spotty attendance record," she said, touching a folder on her desk. The folder in question was thick with reports, Duncan was sure, about altercations and incidents that involved him, whether involuntary or otherwise. Duncan crossed his arms.
"I believe in second chances," he said.
The door behind Duncan and Courtney opened, both students turning to behold the new entrant. He was ruggedly handsome, with well-cropped black hair and thin stubble. He wasn't as old as the principal, but he certainly had an air that put him just under her in years.
"So, did I miss anything?" he asked eagerly, about the room.
"Good of you to join us," the principal said, "Duncan, this is Vice-Principal McLean." McLean nodded in Duncan's direction and gave off a bright smile. Duncan thought he went blind briefly from it.
"Cool, the new student," McLean beamed. "Call me Chris. Unlike Mildred here," he jerked a thumb at the principal and exerted a great deal of emphasis into the mentioned name, "I just like to be on first-name basis with everyone. It makes me feel like I can connect with the students better." Principal O'Halloran forced down her expression of disgust, whether it was from the name or the lack of professionalism of the vice-principal, Duncan was unsure. The moment presented itself an interesting insight into the two's relation, and Duncan couldn't help but take notice.
"I'll remember that, Chris," Duncan nodded.
Courtney, at that moment, decided to remind everyone else of her own presence in the room.
"Now that we have introductions out of the way, can we get to the committee agenda?" she asked. O'Halloran rolled her eyes in defeat of Courtney's urging.
"Fine," she groaned and focused again on Duncan. "Here at Southrock Regional, we do things a little differently than your old school. We're a little more relaxed in discipline than East Blues you will find. We believe in letting our students resolve their problems on their own before they decide to allow a teacher's involvement."
"You let a lot of fights happen, then?" Duncan asked, crossing his arms. O'Halloran nodded.
"No doubt you saw the state of the courtyard on your way in."
"East Blues was famous for keeping up good appearances," Duncan said. "They even made us wear uniforms that were itchy as hell." O'Halloran chuckled and Courtney even fought the urge to laugh. Was the thought of him in a uniform really that funny to them?
"The point is, this school is very unlike where you transferred from," Courtney said after her giggling fit. "But don't think you can just challenge anyone here." Duncan cocked an eyebrow. Were they suggesting to pick fights with other students? Duncan's muscles tensed.
"Why would I want to fight anyone?" Duncan said.
"Your record is lousy with reports of fights from East Blues," O'Halloran answered that one. "The Lizowski fight was one report that is…kind of famous for how brutal it was." Duncan tightened a fist. The fight was one he didn't want to remember. He wasn't proud of it. But that was a long time ago. The guy caught him on a bad day and he cut looser than he should have.
Duncan stared at the floor. "I can't go through that again," he said.
"We're not saying you have to fight," Courtney clarified. "We're just saying there are some students who choose to fight, and others who choose not to. What you choose is up to you."
"Can we skip the mushy stuff and cut the cake already? I haven't eaten today." McLean asked. Duncan felt tension ease as the vice-principal changed the subject.
"Always the food with you, Chris," O'Halloran huffed. "Fine."
The pleasantries in the office lasted until the bell rang to signal the end of third class, by that time students were ready for lunch. Duncan and Courtney emerged from the office to a chaotic gridlock of students passing through the atrium to the cafeteria.
"Well that was eventful," Duncan said, still rather full. "Don't think I'll have to worry about lunch today."
Courtney looked at him. "You did have five pieces of cake," she answered curtly. "It's as if you've never had cake before." Duncan nodded.
"My parents are complete health nuts," he said.
"So what about you?" Courtney returned to face him, "You used to fight in East Blues, what happened?" Duncan slightly bristled.
"I don't wanna talk about it," he said, trying to dissolve into the crowd of students to go to lunch. He was stopped as a group of students pushed him aside.
"Watch it!" Duncan snapped. The group turned to face him; at their center a tall girl with a long black hair in a burgundy halter top regarded him coldly. Courtney took a step forward to stand beside Duncan. The girl looked at Courtney with a murderous glare, and turned to a shorter, rounder girl with brown hair up in a ponytail. The tallest girl with black hair lashed out angrily at the shortest, swatting her several times about the head until her glasses fell from her face.
"You said you'd take care of it!" she shouted. "You are so useless, Beth!" The shorter girl covered her head at the other's lashing out, bending down to fumble around the floor for her glasses.
"I'm sorry, Heather," Beth whined pathetically, "I kicked her through a wall and a hallway window! There's no way she could have survived the fall!"
"None of your excuses!" Heather snapped, lashing at her again. "I don't want to hear it." Heather glared at Courtney, sneering to shrug off Courtney's triumphant poise.
"So," Duncan glanced to the two parties, "much as I like to watch girl on girl action, I'll let you two go make out or something." Heather regarded Duncan with a look that felt like she was trying to burn a hole through his head.
"And just who the hell are you?" she asked.
"I'm Duncan," he said. Heather snorted unimpressed.
Courtney took a step forward. "Word of advice, Heather," she said, "Next time you send an assassin, try to do it when someone isn't in the courtyard to catch me." Heather's eyes scanned Duncan coldly.
"Never seen you before," she said with deduction, "so that means you're new and just transferred, or you've been here all along and I never knew you existed."
"Just got done meeting my welcoming committee," Duncan replied. Heather's dark eyes flashed sadistically with a thought.
"A new guy," said Heather, "Alright, then. DJ!" Behind Heather, a tall African-Canadian boy stepped forth. He was a broad-shouldered, barrel-chested tower of a boy wearing khaki shorts, a T-shirt and a skullcap.
"Yes, Mistress?" the teen asked bowed as Heather addressed him.
"This student is new," Heather directed to Duncan, "Let's give him a welcoming committee of our own." DJ looked down at Duncan, then back to Heather.
"As you wish, Mistress," he said, cracking his knuckles. He wound up, pulling his fist back and gave Duncan a hard right jab. Courtney recoiled in horror.
"Is that really all you've got?" Duncan asked, unfazed by the fist driven into his left eye. Heather let out a slight, shocked gasp. DJ didn't realize until Duncan spoke up. He pulled back for another barrage of punches. Duncan leaned left and right out of each punches' path. Duncan raised a hand, catching DJ's next punch and spun on his heel, sending the larger athlete into the nearby wall. Heather and the rest of her entourage and whatever other students present gasped in shock.
"You're just a big ol' soft-serve, aren't you?" Duncan asked taunting. "I knew a girl back at my old school with a harder punch than that. She could carry twice her weight in shopping bags while sipping a latte and texting." DJ stood, shook the daze from his head and charged again at Duncan. Duncan slid a step to the left, out of his path. DJ got in close, getting in several body shots on Duncan, who seemed rather unfazed from the whole assault.
"Why don't you fight back?" DJ asked. "I'm giving you the beat-down and you're just shrugging it off? Come on, man, fight back!" Duncan leaned his head to the side, the fist missing him by inches.
"You're not fighting serious," Duncan answered. "Really try to hit me like you mean it and maybe I will." DJ wound up and delivered a hard left uppercut. Duncan leaned back, the punch brushing just lightly against the tip of his nose.
Duncan looked bewildered at DJ. That was a close call. Duncan could feel, just from the brush against DJ's knuckle that was too close. He really meant that one to hurt.
"Now it's serious," Duncan said, grinning. He lowered his stance and exhaled. DJ charged, but Duncan struck first. His fist struck DJ square in the face and sent him spinning through the air, and crashed into the far wall of the hallway right at the school entrance. A stunned, silencing gasp consumed the gathered crowd that watched the fight, Courtney and Heather included.
"Aw, dude, that was awesome!" someone in the back of the crowd shouted at the display.
"So," Duncan turned to Courtney, "What's for lunch?"
Author's Commentary: There you go; the first fight of the story. I feel like it's relatively underwhelming in terms of fight scales, but this is just the first of many. Depending on how I write the chapter, the fight that follows in it could be really awesome or kind of weak. I wasn't planning on introducing Blaineley or Chris until a few chapters later, but found that introducing them this chapter got it out of the way and not cause complications further down. There will be more of McLean in this story, I assure you. DJ and Duncan's fight was longer in my head, but when I wrote this up, it felt so right. I feel it gives an indication on where Duncan's strength level is insofar, and I can scale others' strength accordingly. That exchange with Heather and Beth was a scene I wrote originally and wanted to expand on it, but never got around to it. I thought it might have been a great way to give insight on what happened to Courtney before Duncan saved her at the start, and liked its overall feel. I kind of liked how this chapter turned out.