CHAPTER 4
-ART-
"Aloha, Miss Quinzel. Pleasure to have you for your first art class; I am Mr Wakiki, head of art, and your teacher for the entirety of this academic year." the broad shouldered, dark eyed, Hawaiian art teacher preached, as Harleen entered the classroom. "Is there anyone in particular you'd like to sit next to?"
"Pamela Isley, if that's manageable." she replied, politely. He smiled and nodded in allowance and Harleen calmly rushed to sit next to the named girl, as more students filed in.
In Art, it seemed that the students sat on a table of five, instead of desks. On hers sat herself, Pamela, Bruce Wayne, and two peculiarly dressed boys she hadn't met before. In front of each stool sat a sheet of thick paper on the table, and a beautifully arranged bundle of flowers lay in a vase in the table's center.
"Your task for today is simple: to create your own interpretation of these bunches of marigolds I have placed on each of your tables. make it your own." Mr Wakiki announced to the 30 pupils in the class. "The colors are on my desk. You have two hours, so if you complete the task in detail before the bell, just... do your own thing."
With that he sat on the armchair by his desk, and began to read 'A Study in Scarlet'.
Pam rolled her illuminated eyes as Bruce winked at her and collected the colored pencils from the opposite end of the room. Harleen leaned forward. "You're probably the only girl I've met to ever turn down Bruce Wayne." she giggled. "How come a playboy billionaire is going to this school anyway? I'm sure he could afford some kinda private boy's school instead of Gotham High."
Pamela also leaned forward. "Apparently he demanded his butler, or his guardian, let him attend Gotham High. It's a puzzle why anyone with that kind of money would choose to go here." she replied.
They were interrupted as the first of the two unknown boys, one with sunkissed dark blonde hair that gathered over his left eye, and a face trickled with clay, spoke up. He had a thick Australian accent, she observed.
"Nice to meet yer, Harley." he greeted, pulling out a sketching pencil from the top pocket of his shirt. "I'm Basil Karlo, and this here is Victor Fries if you haven't already met. Isley told me a little about you last lesson."
Harleen smiled in response. "Nice to meet you. And Victor Freeze is such an intriguing name." she replied, sweetly.
"It's German." Victor added, shyly. "Spelt like fries, pronounced freeze. Those who don't remember that always write me down as Mr Freeze. It's okay though."
Victor had albino white skin, and light blue touched the corners of his lips and around his waterline below his eyes. He wore a thin blue and black shirt and black pants, and matching boots, though left his hairless head and blue tinged hands uncovered.
"He hasn't got a cold heart though." Bruce put in, as he returned with two of every colored pencil. "He gets really tense around the ladies, don't you, Vic?"
The named boy blushed a deep shade of pink and smiled lightly.
Pamela played with the jewelled ivory ring on her finger and glanced at Basil. "How about you tell her about your nickname, Bas?" she eluded.
Harleen drew a simple drawing of the first flower as they talked, still ears open.
Basil sighed. "A year ago or so, Jack Napier played a prank on me. I was working on a sculpture that at the point had taken over two weeks, I was in the DT block at around half eight at night, and when I called in a night and exited through the door: BAM! I was soaked head to shoulders in liquid clay. When I recovered from the small shock and looked up, there was a click and a flash. There, in front of me, was J with a camera in his hands and laughing, as he shook the instant picture like a Polaroid. The old bucket atop the door gag. Hmmph." he explained, tightening his grip around his pencil. "He used to plaster that photo over the school and embarrass me until Summer break. And when I came back, everyone was calling me Clayface."
Harleen looked up in surprise. "Would Jack do something like that?" she asked, innocently.
Basil smirked. "Unless you're that naïve, you'll know that he's a cruel guy. He's probably broken every law under the sun, and somehow his parents seem to get him out of facing the punishment for his crimes. Even two of his closest friends Jonathan Crane and Harvey Dent know that. To be honest, they aren't really that close since a few weeks back..." he murmured.
"What happened?" she asked.
"Pam can tell yer more about that, being Harvey's girlfriend 'n' all." he implied, getting on with his sketch, like Victor and Bruce already had.
"You have a boyfriend?" Harley asked.
"Yeah, why?" she snapped, protectively. "J spray painted over half of Harvey's presidential campaign posters because he thought it would be funny showing how two-faced he was. And for Johnny, well he admitted he thought of him as nothing more than a nerd and a junkie. They were both pissed and didn't want anything to do with him."
Harley looked down at her hands, to make sure they weren't shaking with mixed emotions. She touched the small graze on her cheek before Pammie finished with: "Can't blame them."
An hour later, Harleen had completed her sketch of the full bouquet of flowers, though she had chosen to shade instead of color. Overall, it seemed acceptable, but no where near as impressive as Pamela's, she saw, as she quickly glanced over.
With a silent roll of the eyes, she reached out for another sheet of blank paper and danced her pencil apon it. This so started the few minutes of drawing many hearts and diamonds across the page. She giggled softly, and began on a figure, male, smart and slim, before adding neat, though messy, hair and a well composured face and a sweet smirk.
She looked back in horror as she realised, staring down at the finished piece, that she had drawn Jack. The Joker, no longer in a hoodie, but in a suit, like a classy 1920s gangster without a fedora. Her body tingled in a sort of animal attraction and she attempted to hide it from everyone else.
She glanced at the clock – 40 minutes left.
Harleen sat upwards and stretched out her back, until she became bored and looked at what everyone else had accomplished. Pam happened to be drawing more flowers, Bruce was drawing what looked like a simple sketch of a man in a dark costume, Basil drew basic caricatures of people in the classroom, and Victor drew some kind of woman.
Leaning forwards, she decided it would be okay to talk quietly, as a few students were doing so. "Whaddya drawing?" she asked Bruce.
He looked up from beneath his eyebrows. "You don't- ah wait he's probably not that well known outside of Gotham..." he replied.
"Who?" she inquired.
"That is, have you heard of him?" he asked.
She rolled her eyes. "Stop playing the name game! Who is he?" she growled under her breath.
He grinned. "The Batman. He's like the protector of this school." he replied.
"What kinda madman calls himself the Batman?" she laughed.
"A real nutty guy." Karlo responded, with a chuckle. "He's dressed up in some sort of Halloween costume too, what's to be afraid of?"
"What do you have against him?" Bruce snarled, putting his pencil down.
"What do I not have against him?" Basil argued.
"Other than the fact that he protects the pupils in this school and keeps the law!"
"He takes the law into his own hands, goddammit! And what has he done apart from stopping the Joker do some horrendous crime, beat up a few bullies and ruin my musical, where I was about to kiss the girl of my dreams!"
By this point, the rest of the class had gone silent, Mr Wakiki had looked up from his book, and Bruce Wayne was fuming at the mouth. The two were standing and glaring at each other with more fury than most humans could ever express.
Pamela stood also, with concern in her eyes. "Now guys, not in here!" she interjected, but they ignored her.
"Why don't he ever take the mask off, huh? Must be a real coward behind that mask!" Basil growled.
"Bastard!" Bruce barked, leaping at him and the two started to scrap like wild dogs.
Mr Wakiki lept to his feet. "Stop it this once!" he ordered. "If you don't I'll report you to Principal Strange's office this instant!"
When this didn't work, he became enraged. "STOP THIS AT ONCE!" he bellowed, and the two boys stopped, with bloody noses, battered knuckles and bruised eyes. "Now! Wayne, Karlo, to the principal's!"
He grabbed their shirt collars, and lead them furiously out of the class. "Have an early lunch, kids, while I deal with these hooligans."
The class cheered and headed to the lunch hall, and Harleen did so with Pamela.
"Geez, intense fight." Harley giggled.
Pamela grinned. "Happens all the time here, just don't tell your parents that." she replied, checking the time on her phone. "Sorry, Harley, got a doctor's appointment with my parents now. Hope you have a cool first day, you seem sweet."
Harley waved as she walked away. "Thanks, Pam." she called.
"Love ya, hun." Pamela answered, giggling and blowing a fake kiss as she caught up into more of a jog.
She turned the corner and Harley sighed, before following the other pupils to the cafeteria. It was huge and painted pale yellow, with several blue circular tables seated around the large room. Searching it with her lonely eyes, she found no sight of Selina, and as the bell went and hungry students started to rush in, she made a quick decision to sit on the nearest table; alone.
Harleen pulled out her plastic lunch box from her bag and opened it, as everyone grabbed their lunch and began talking. She sat quietly, eating her salad and cold leftovers of falafel before a voice chimed: "Hello, Harleen, is it okay if we sit with you?"
She looked up to see Jonathan Crane, Edward Nygma, and Jervis Tetch standing there with their lunch trays.
"Sure." she stammered, smiling as they sat.
"So how is your first day going?" Jonathan asked, taking a bite of his lasagne.
"Good, thanks." she replied. "Everyone here is so friendly and open. And I've already seen a fight today."
She giggled and he smiled happily. "You'll be seeing lots of those here. Hopefully none with me in." he told her.
"Yeah, Pamela told me." she replied.
Jonathan looked surprised. "You're friends with Pamela?" he snorted.
She gave him a look and he stopped. "Why? What's the problem with her?" she asked, quietly. "She seems kind."
"Everyone does at first, my dear." he replied. "But believe me, I've been stuck with her since I started this school when I was 14, she is not kind."
"Whaddya mean?" she put simply, eating the last of her food as he did.
"Her parents are rich and they spoil their only daughter. The dad is the co founder of the international company Botanics, along with a certain Ra's al Ghul, Talia al Ghul's father, who happens to be running the 'Lazarus' project, which is a selection of oils that make you look decades younger... anyway I went off track. She and Talia are rich, spoilt and popular and have gone out with half of the school's boys. They're bullies and look down on people, so if they're ever nice, they don't mean it. They can be manipulative, as poor Kylie Todd found out." he explained, scrunching up his face as if he was going to barf just thinking about it."
"Kylie... Pamela said she moved out." Harley responded.
"She committed suicide by jumping from the school building." he said, abruptly.
She froze and creased her brow. "Oh my God." she replied, struggling to think of what to say.
His head bowed. "The funniest thing was that I had a crush on her, and we could tell each other everything. And then... a few months ago, she and Pamela had an argument and before as they were the two closest beings on this Earth, they weren't friends at all afterwards. And because of it, Pamela made Kylie's life hell. She used to send her threatening notes in her locker, and told lies to make everyone despise the girl, and act the victim, so it made Kylie look like the real monster." he responded, glumly.
"Why didn't she tell the principal, or her parents?" she inquired, drawn in by the sad tale.
"She told the principal, but he wouldn't listen, firstly because I suspect he was bribed, and secondly because of Pamela's innocent act." he growled hushedly, but not directed at Harley, rather at Pamela in his head. He had a look like poison. "And for her parents, well she only got to see them on weekends, and every Monday she would return to me and say she couldn't pluck up the courage to do it. See, Kylie's parents were simple bar workers, running the Vermonte club Kylie's mother inherited. If she told them, they'd try to do something to stop, and with Isley influence in court too, the parents would end up being sued, and they couldn't afford that on minimum pay, not some of the crazy high priced sues the Isleys could destroy them with."
Harleen exhaled as if she had had the life drained from her. "So it became too much and she jumped off the school roof." she finished and he nodded.
Tetch rubbed his back. "It's been a quarter of a dozen months and he can't help himself get over it. We've tried anyway." Jervis explained.
Harleen tilted his head up to stare into her concerned cloudy blue eyes and smiled pitifully. "Johnny, I'm not asking you to forget Kylie like she never existed, but you shouldn't get torn up by this for the rest of your life. I know it might take time, but you should think about how strong she was – to stick by you and take the metaphorical bullets for as long as she did, and then gave in to her fears." she consoled.
"I thought giving in to your fears was weak." he snivelled, brushing away a lock of hair.
"Not like that, if you think. Her passing on was a sort of freedom, I mean, Pamela can't touch her now, can she?" Harley replied, taking his hand in two of hers. "She's not gone, Johnny, she's just left her body. And as my ma always tell me when, when people die, they don't leave, they just stay as a soul, repeating daily tasks as though nothing had happened, and keeping loved ones safe. Like a guardian angel almost. So think of it like that, Jonathan, and maybe slowly you can move on, because Kylie would want you to. No one should give up their life in high school to mourn for eternity afterall."
Jonathan looked up with tears in his eyes and smiled. "You're the best goddamn shrink I've ever had, Harley." he wept, thankfully. "Honestly, I really think you could be a student psychologist for this school because you are amazing."
Jervis smiled in a happy shock and nodded in gratitude. "Miss Harleen you are simply wonderous! Now I must rush Jonathan to the restroom before he cries; he may not be Alice, but he could rightfully well drown in his tears." he said with a jolt, the two hurrying off.
Edward sat opposite her at the table, and had his face tucked in a complex book of riddles. "A student psychologist? Well I've never really thought about it." she murmured.
"I find such gibberish a waste of time." Edward responded without question. "Do you like riddles?"
"Kinda." she answered.
"Do you know any?"
"Off the top of my head... a few."
"What travels around the world yet stays in a corner?"
"I dunno."
"A stamp."
"Oh, right."
"What is black and white and read all over?"
"A newspaper."
"Correct. I was glad that you didn't say a beaten, bleeding cow like Jack Napier."
"Ewwww."
"What walks of four legs, then two, then three?"
"I've never heard of that one."
"A human. A baby on four, then we walk on two, and then the elder needs a cane."
"That one is cool."
"So what do you make of this Kylie Todd?" he asked, suddenly.
Harley paused. "I think that she was just a victim, and what Pamela did, was just... disgusting." she replied honestly.
"Keep that trail of thought. You can't trust her." he told her, quietly, behind a hand.
"Seems like I can't trust anyone." she sighed, glumly.
He grinned. "You really can't, we're all bad people inside waiting for a chance to show, and going here just raises the stakes of that side showing." he chuckled.
She stayed silent. "The only good thing to come from Kylie's respiration, is that her little brother, Jackson or Jason or whatever his name was, got past school security somehow, ran into Pamela's class and told her it was her fault Kylie died and that Pamela should go reproduce with herself." he continued, with a slight smirk.
She looked down at her hands.
Nygma tilted his head with that same smirk. "Who are you?" he probed, adjusting his glasses.
"Excuse me?" she asked, in a confused manner.
"You, Harleen Quinzel, are you a jock, a gamer, a prep, a nerd; popular, loner? Who exactly are you?" he repeated.
"I like to think that I don't fit into any catergory. Because I don't fit in right." she murmured.
"Napier is the only other person who describes himself as, none of the categories, rather as his own category." he mentioned.
"Thanks for comparing me to Jack Napier." she muttered, packing away her stuff.
"Where are you going, Harleen?" he called, but she rolled her eyes.
"Wait!" he added. "I just wanted to know who you are!"