Chapter Two: Summer School
Lance and Alanna trailed into their new school with wide eyes and stiff muscles. The idea of a fresh start appealed, but losing the majority of their summer most decidedly did not appeal. Worse, from their perspective, this new school meant losing precious, invaluable time from their on-going efforts to keep their Uncle Wordy in the SRU. At least, that was what both teenagers kept telling themselves. In the back of their minds, the siblings fully expected that if their new classmates ever found out just how different they were… Well…they'd just have to make sure no one found out. Never again.
Just inside the school, a teacher waited for them. She was tall and slender, with her dark blonde hair cut short, but full. The hair framed her face as well as the horn-rimmed square glasses she wore. Her smile was broad and she had a friendly look; a woman well-used to working with children and gifted in understanding those children. "Hello there," she greeted the pair. "I'm Mrs. Hackelburg. You must be Alanna and Lance."
Alanna shifted back, going shy as she usually did when meeting new people. Although Lance was normally bold enough for both of them, he shifted back as well, uncertainty and doubt shimmering in the depths of sapphire eyes. "Yes, ma'am," he offered up.
"Well, come with me and we'll get you set up with the initial placement tests," Mrs. Hackelburg informed them. "Once we have a better idea of where you are right now, we can start working on the rest."
Neither sibling did all that well with the placement tests, a fact that dropped their confidence levels close to zero. Alanna huddled into her brother's side, trying not to sniffle. She'd done her best, but the questions had been so hard. She knew it had been worse for her brother; he was wearing the mask he'd picked up from their uncle…his best imitation of their uncle's negotiator mask, which Lance always used when things went south. And his frame was stiff with tension and no small amount of fear; what if the teachers thought they – or their uncle – had faked their transcripts? What if the teachers figured out which school they were transferring from…was their fresh start over before it had even begun?
Tension spiked when Mrs. Hackelburg led the school's principal into the room. The principal studied them, observing the fear neither teenager could hide. For close to a minute, silence hung and tension coated the room in fear thick enough to choke on. Then the principal sighed. "Well, you're both much further behind than we expected."
Lance nodded once.
Principal and teacher exchanged looks, then the principal spoke bluntly. "At this point, you both need individualized lesson plans if we still want to get the pair of you into the grades you should be in. For now, we'll keep you both together and start with the basics." Her gaze was stern. "If you want to stay in your current grade levels, you'll have to put in the work; it won't be easy. Not in the least. You've both tested to as being a bit between third and fourth grade rather than eighth grade and sophomore."
The siblings cringed simultaneously, their faces red with shame and embarrassment. It took a moment for Lance to find his voice, then he looked up, the beginnings of rock-hard determination under the shame. "What do we have to do?"
Principal Kahl inspected her school's newest students, not missing the fact that young Alanna's expression mirrored her brother's. Well then. She let the moment hang just a touch longer, then started outlining the siblings' summer school schedule, as well as her expectations for their progress if they truly intended to be a sophomore and an eighth grader by the end of summer.
Holly Hackelburg watched as her temporary students worked on their latest assignments, doing their best to cram years of school into one summer. It wasn't possible to get them totally up to speed, but the idea was to get them far enough that they could keep up with their classes and homework during the school year with additional afterschool tutoring to bolster the classroom material. If they were still behind by next summer, Holly was confident that they could finish catching up with their classmates then.
All of this assumed that the pair would keep up their side of the bargain and put in the work necessary, but their guardian had made it clear he would keep on top of his charges at home. There had been a bit of rebellion the first week or two, but the teens appeared to have settled down and they were both working hard. Holly considered her latest notes; her boss had asked for daily reports on the pair once they – and their guardian – had agreed to the heavy workload following the dreadful results on the assessment tests.
She knew Lynn had done a bit of checking around, trying to solve the mystery of how two students with As and Bs on their transcripts could do so poorly on the assessments – the answer hadn't been all that impressive to either of the two teachers. In short, the teens' prior school was one of those schools that was more interested in looking good than actually teaching their students. It was an extraordinary disservice to the students in Holly's opinion. By giving the students grades they hadn't earned – or worse, teaching them material from a lower grade level – the school was essentially handicapping their pupils. Most damning of all, the pupils graduating from that school wouldn't discover they were behind until it was far too late…at best, they'd spend years catching up; at worst, the rest of their lives would be affected by that school's ineptitude.
Neither Lance nor Alanna were willing to talk about why they'd had to transfer out of their prior school, but Holly didn't care what their reasons had been. Not any more, at any rate. Oh, certainly she'd wondered if had been a discipline problem during the first couple of days, in spite of Parker's assertions to the contrary, but as her new students worked hard and turned in some of the best handwritten work she'd seen in many, many years, she'd come to the firm conclusion that all these two kids needed was a chance. A chance to show what they could do, what they could be, and how hard they were willing to work to get there.
"Mrs. Hackelburg?"
Holly looked up at Alanna, smiling at the young girl's uncertain expression. "Yes, Alanna?"
Alanna slid her book onto the desk and pointed to one of the questions. "I, um, I went through the whole chapter again and I can't find where it talks about this."
"Well, then, let's see what we can find," Holly replied, focusing in on the question and putting her daily report aside.
Clark blinked in surprise at the textbook Lance hauled out of his backpack. The slightly younger teen saw his expression and flushed bright red; they both knew the math book was intended for fifth graders…not someone supposedly about to start their high school sophomore year. "Wow," Clark observed, "Your uncle really wasn't kidding, was he?"
Lance shook his head, staring at the ground.
"Guess we'd better get started then," Clark decided, smirking at the shocked look on his 'cousin's' face.
"W-what?"
Clark tilted his head to the side. "You're behind 'cause your magic school was lousy at tech-side subjects, right?"
A cautious nod.
The curly-haired teenager shrugged. "Not your fault the wizarding world prefers living in the medieval era. Just means it'll take longer to get you up to speed. So we'd better get started on that, yah?" At the other boy's almost blank expression, Clark rolled his eyes. "Look, I'm still mad you didn't tell me about all this magic stuff and I totally have a ton of questions, but all that can wait." He hauled the wizard over to the kitchen table, snatching the math book away to plunk it down on the tabletop. "Okay, what's giving you fits right now?"
Alanna hissed in fury at her computer screen and pushed away from the laptop, stalking away from the table as she vented her anger with soft bird-like shrieks, her fingers flexing as if they were talons. Rather than calm her down, the pacing only agitated her further; her computer might've suffered the consequences, but fortunately for the innocent machine, Spike chose just that moment to turn up, a playful grin on his face as he leaned into the conference room Alanna had commandeered.
"Everything okay, kiddo?" the bomb tech asked, his eyebrows flying up at the fuming, almost enraged expression on the young girl's face.
"No," Alanna snapped, running a hand through her hair and pointing at her computer. "I can't do it, Uncle Spike! I tried and tried, but I can't do it." Frustration welled up, replacing anger. "I'm just too stupid!"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Spike interrupted, waving his hands in an emphatic 'time-out' motion. "No insulting my favorite niece there, 'Lanna. No one gets to do that, not even me." It took a few moments, but Alanna came to a halt in the center of the room, her violet eyes wet with tears as Spike moved over to her laptop to inspect the source of the trouble. The bomb tech shook his head as he regarded the screen. "Come here, 'Lanna," he ordered softly.
The girl sniffled, but obeyed, sliding into her seat again, her eyes going wide with surprise when Spike dragged another chair over and sat down next to her. He indicated the word puzzle on the screen. "How many times have you tried?" he asked gently.
"Four," Alanna reported with another sniff.
The bomb tech sighed to himself. "Listen, 'Lanna, you're not stupid and you're not doing anything wrong." He watched his niece's face as he spoke, then quietly asked, "Okay?"
"Then why can't I figure it out?" Alanna cried.
Spike's expression turned a bit sardonic. " 'Cause whoever came up with this puzzle was an idiot. Solving it is more about luck than anything else." The constable watched as the redhead hid behind her hair, clearly unconvinced. "Listen, 'Lanna, how about I help you out? See if we can crack this together?"
"Okay." The young girl's voice was trembly and still on the edge of tears, but her inner steel was peeking through.
In the end, it took the pair another five attempts before they got through all three puzzle 'doors' in the game – both breathed a sincere sigh of relief when the game's ending scene started to play. After it finished, Spike popped the CD out of the laptop's drive without a word and replaced it with another game. "It's the same series," the tech explained as he pushed himself back, "But it should be a lot easier." He grinned. "The puzzles are more about logic than luck."
As the screen came up, Alanna made a face. "It's for fourth graders," she complained.
Spike's grin grew wider. "Don't knock it till you try it," he chided. "I grew up on this stuff, remember?"
Wide violet eyes lifted. "You played these games?"
"Sure did," Spike confirmed cheerfully. "Had to dig 'em out, but they're better than most of those textbooks you and Lance were learning from." He tilted his head to the side. "Come to think of it, they're better than most of the textbooks I was learning from, too."
"Gonna give her Oregon Trail next?" Sam asked from the doorway, a smirk on his face as he leaned against the door jamb with his arms crossed.
Spike reared back in mock horror as he spun his chair around to face the sniper. "You doubt me?" he demanded theatrically, clutching his chest. "Deny the Boss's nipotes the wonders of Oregon Trail? Perish the thought!"
Alanna arched a brow at the dramatics. "That bad, huh?" she quipped dryly.
Both men roared with laughter. As Sam folded over, catching his breath, he choked out, "Did you ever have the wagon go over in the middle of the river?"
Spike shook his head, his eyes dancing with memories. "Nope, I usually had it go through the ice," he admitted. "Or everyone died of scurvy."
When Greg came looking for his men twenty minutes later, he found them cheerfully trading Oregon Trail and Mavis Bacon Teaches Typing horror stories, with an avid Alanna listening in the background.
