Chapter 106.
Virgil Tracy was mad.
No, mad was far too mild. He wasn't mad. He was fuming.
Nope, still too mild. He wasn't fuming. One simply did not ascend to this level of anger and do it the injustice of referring to it as 'fuming'.
He was pissed.
His alarm had screamed at him at six thirty as usual. Upon exiting the warmth of his bed, he'd noticed two things that fell well outside of the norm.
One: he couldn't hear water running in the bathroom, meaning that Scott had either decided to forgo showering, or was oversleeping.
Two: he couldn't detect the usual smell of coffee floating up from the kitchen, another reliable indicator that Scott was up and about.
Virgil felt apprehension creep over him. Scott was always up before him. Always. Any absence on his part could only mean illness, since the odds of him sleeping through his own alarm were about the same as finding gold in a duck's butt.
Pulling his uniform on in a way that could only be described as undignified (complete with the obligatory hopping frenzy when he got one of his trouser legs stuck), Virgil hastily made his way downstairs, buttoning up his white shirt as he went.
The kitchen was empty, and a quick backtrack up the stairs revealed the bathroom to also be empty. There were no texts or missed calls on Virgil's mobile or the house phone. Scott's bed looked as if it hadn't been slept in and his schoolbag was missing, as was his car.
A 'crunch' reverberated around the living room as Virgil ground his molars together in barely concealed fury. Scott had taken off in his turbocharged tin can and left nothing behind that offered any indication of where the hell he had buggered off to.
Maybe John knew something…
Guilt barely registered on Virgil's emotional radar as he kicked open the door to the redhead's bedroom and, in one fluid motion, snatched the covers off his brother's sleeping form and yanked the cord for the blinds up.
"Virg? 'Wassit?" John mumbled, shielding his face with a hand as daylight assaulted his eyeballs, "Ugh…g'way…"
"Where's Scott?" Virgil demanded, his bulky frame casting a formidable shadow across the curled up body of his ginger brother, "He didn't come to bed last night and his car isn't outside."
John's forehead creased itself into a frown as his squinted up at Virgil, "Wha-? You sure?"
Virgil nodded, "The keys are gone and everything."
A world-weary sigh was offered in lieu of a verbal reply as John heaved himself up and padded towards the door, his red hair sticking up in every direction as he peered down the stairs and out across the porch.
Indeed, Scott's automobile was absent.
Meanwhile, Virgil was having an internal meltdown of epic proportions. Not out of concern for Scott, but out of concern that, without his brother around, responsibility for getting Gordon and Alan dressed, washed, and fed fell to him.
"Call his mobile," Virgil instructed, zipping out the door and grabbing a couple of fresh towels from the linen closet, "If he doesn't answer, try again. Don't let up until you get through to him."
John nodded and returned to his room to retrieve his phone. Across the hall, Virgil charged between Gordon's room and the bathroom like a demented chicken, his hands flying as he expertly ran a bath, retrieved a pair of fresh uniforms out of the dryer (which Scott had, mercifully, remembered to run the previous night), threw together some bowls of cereal, and did a cursory check to make sure his own car was still present and accounted for.
"Alan's car seat is in the Audi," Virgil announced, dumping Gordon in the bath and inserting a toothbrush into his mouth, "He should be okay with just his seat belt, but I don't trust that he won't unbuckle himself at some point during the drive. Gordo? Can you keep an eye on him for me?"
Gordon sniffed and nodded, the thought of having to battle through another full day of school filling him with dread.
"No answer," John announced, sticking his head around the door and cringing as Virgil stripped Alan of his pyjamas and left him standing stark naked, "You don't think he might be dead in a ditch somewhere, do you?"
Both Gordon and Alan gasped in horror.
"I highly doubt that," Virgil muttered, hoisting Alan into the warm bubbles and turning the tap off, "Can you watch them while I go and finish breakfast? Scott usually makes them avocado on toast, and we haven't got any bread that's defrosted."
John looked as if nothing would please him less, "What's wrong with the cereal you took out?"
Virgil shot the redhead a death glare and inclined his head subtly towards the first of their blonde brothers, "Sugary cereal isn't the best thing for a child trying to lose weight. I'd of thought you of all people would have made that connection."
Before John could trot out one of the many reasons why he couldn't possibly remain in the same room as his naked brothers, Virgil nipped past him and hurtled off down the stairs to butcher an unsuspecting avocado.
An unsuspecting avocado, that he totally wasn't going to pretend was Scott's face.
John meanwhile, found himself left with the unenviable task of pouring water over Gordon and Alan's heads as they clumsily rubbed shampoo into their scalps. What should have been a fairly mundane task culminated thirty seconds later in Gordon screaming when some shampoo seeped into his eye and Alan scooping up a handful of bubbles and experimentally licking them.
How Scott managed to do this every single morning without the assistance of alcohol or drugs, John would never know.
-x-
Scott felt white hot anger course through him as he steamrolled through the empty school hallways, murderous intent blazing in his sapphire eyes.
He hadn't slept a wink the night before, his brain working overtime to fill in every occasion he could recall where Gordon had behaved out of character. In a desperate attempt to channel some of his pent-up energy, he'd spent the three hours before dawn pouring through the footage John had archived on his phone, analysing every frame like a man possessed as he tried to assign an identity to one (or both) of Gordon's bullies.
After too many minutes spent squinting at a semi-decent frame, he'd had a eureka moment when his gaze had clocked the colour of the tags on both boy's schoolbags. A flick through Gordon's induction diary had revealed that pink tags (like the ones in the photo) were used to represent the Zeta class, which was two tiers below the Delta form that Gordon belonged to. A quick cross reference with Zeta's attendance register (which Scott had managed to gain access to with a bit of 'assistance' from a very sleepy and incredibly grouchy Kayo), and he'd found himself with a complete list of names and faces.
It hadn't taken long for him to find a match.
Levi Schuman and Jayden Gummery. Scott had never laid eyes on either of them, but had beaten Levi's older brother during basketball trials at the start of the school year. Both boy's behaviour records were patchy, but not bad. They were obviously well-versed at hiding their crimes.
More interesting to Scott was their ages. Their dates of birth put them two years above Gordon in terms of physical age, yet they were clearly listed as being in the same academic year as him. Further investigation revealed that, while their behaviour records were okay-ish, their academic records were less than ideal, hence their grade retention.
John had twittered on once about a research study he'd come across that discussed how children with poor educational outcomes often projected their feelings of inadequacy onto others as a form of deflection. Scott had only been half listening at the time, but Virgil had been interested enough to lay down the counterargument that challenging behaviour was often the result of unmet emotional needs rather than poor educational performance.
John had retaliated with a counter-counterargument that educational outcomes were directly linked to a child's quality of life and the emotional security associated with high self-esteem.
Virgil had shot back with the counter-counter-counterargument that children learnt by example, and that a child could belong to a hugely supportive family unit, yet still be conditioned to view education as a secondary or even tertiary priority.
Scott had intervened before brothers two and three had lunged for each other. He'd never been a great believer in all of the educational theories in circulation. As far as he was concerned, everyone was different and learnt in their own way and at their own pace. Just like you couldn't expect everyone to wear the same size shoes, you couldn't expect everyone to retain information in the same way.
Upon identifying his brother's tormentors, Scott had infiltrated the school's database further and managed to pull up a copy of their class timetable. Thankfully, the little shits shared no classes with Gordon, but that obviously wasn't stopping them from accosting him in the corridors between lessons.
That ended today.
A group of girls huddled together outside the gymnasium giggled shyly as Scott stormed past, their cheeks flushing pink when his fiery gaze briefly swept over them. He was shocked to see that he wasn't the only student out and about on campus so early, but remembered that the cheerleading team used the gym to rehearse before morning registration. A small smirk pulled at Scott's mouth when he realised that he'd probably just snubbed the very girls who'd be cheering him on at his team's next basketball tournament.
Jayden and Levi both had Chemistry first period, and Scott had every intention of confronting them outside the lab after the madness of the morning 'rush hour' had passed. He wasn't too worried about people witnessing what he planned to do to the little shits. He knew a secluded spot behind one of the maintenance sheds that he could drag them to before teaching his own 'lesson' of sorts. It was out of range of the CCTV cameras and not visible from any classroom or office windows.
The kid who'd once made the mistake of stealing John's phone could attest to this.
-x-
"Scott Tracy! What a nice surprise!"
Scott forced a smile onto his face as Miss Anderson strode down the hall and opened the door to her lab. He'd been one of her star students once, so was confident his request to 'escort' Levi and Jayden to a tutoring session would fly under her radar.
Puffy-eyed and sleep-deprived, Scott cranked up the charm, "Nice to see you too, Miss. I've been sent to pick up two of your students for extra tutoring. A couple of slots became available yesterday afternoon and all the hall monitors are on bus duty."
Miss Anderson frowned and did a quick headcount of the students she currently had, "Which two? We're doing mock exams today, so I can't really afford to release anyone. Can it wait until Friday?"
Scott's eyes narrowed a fraction, "Levi and Jayden. And no, it can't wait. They're forty percent down on their predicted history grades and down in mathematics as well. I'm afraid time is of the essence."
"Oh, well if that's the case, then please take them," Miss Anderson poked her head into the lab and summoned the desired bodies, "If you could send them back here to collect the papers at the end, that would be great. They can complete them as homework and turn them in next week. I'll leave a couple of spares on my desk."
"Uh-huh," Scott muttered, his attention zeroing in on the cause(s) of his sleepless night, "I'll let them know."
Miss Anderson smiled and stood aside so that Levi and Jayden could pass, "Best of luck, boys. Oh and Scott, do swing by and let me know how the university applications are going! Remember, I run a workshop every second Thursday-"
Offers of proofreading and spell checking went unnoticed and unanswered as Scott began herding Gordon's bullies down the corridor towards the isolation of the great outdoors. He could practically feel his blood foaming.
Levi and Jayden seemed indifferent to the surprise journey they were taking. No doubt the scumbags were enjoying skipping a lesson, even if it was only for ten minutes.
Enjoyment turned to apprehension when Scott tried to shepherd them off across the courtyard towards the seclusion of the gardener's sheds. Almost instinctively, Levi slowed down and motioned for Jayden to do the same.
"Keep moving," Scott hissed, the anger in his voice evident, "Don't make me drag you."
Levi scowled and looked to Jayden for support, "Which classroom are we meant to be in? You never said where we're actually supposed to be going."
Scott could feel himself slipping, "None of your business, kid."
Jayden drew all five foot and two inches of himself up before fossicking in his bag for his diary, "All tutoring sessions are supposed to be held in the learning support block, which is in the opposite direction to the one we're going in. Are we in trouble or something? My form tutor signed my homework timetable yesterday, so I'm up to date with everything. I'll show you."
Muffled thumping ensued as Jayden balanced his bag on his knee and began to shift the contents around. When it became obvious that he wasn't going to find what he was looking for, he widened the zip gap and began pulling items out at random.
Time stopped for Scott as a Fibre One bar dropped onto the ground.
A surprising sense of calmness descended over the eldest Tracy as he stooped to pick up his evidence. This was it. He had them over a barrel.
"Where did you get this?" Scott asked, his voice low and dangerous. He recognised the brown packaging of the Milk Chocolate variety he'd bought in an effort to satisfy Gordon's sweet tooth. He also recognised the way the packaging was stretched out of shape in places, a tell-tale sign that his brother had tried (and failed) to rip the plastic sleeve open. Such a clue was about as telling as a fingerprint.
He also recognised the name on the maths booklet that looked surprisingly similar to the one Gordon had complained about 'losing' several days ago, as well as the stuffed seahorse that looked identical to the one John had won from a claw machine and given to Gordon as a gift.
Scott was no stranger to stupidity (at least two of his brothers met the clinical criteria for insanity), but even he was floored by Jayden's negligence. It was one thing to bully someone in a school filled with cameras and potential witnesses, but to carry incriminating evidence in your schoolbag was something else entirely.
Levi looked to be thinking along the same lines.
"None of your business," Jayden snapped, zipping his bag back up and slinging it across his shoulder, "I know you. You're that guy who beat Vi's brother at basketball tryouts. He says the only reason you got onto the team was because you flirted with the coach's daughter and promised to take her to the Fall Formal. And you're not even a hall monitor, so can't order us about."
A hand was extended, accompanied by a voice used to being obeyed, "Those items don't belong to you. Hand them over now. I won't ask again."
A whisper of doubt clouded Jayden's eyes briefly, "You have no right to tell me what to do with my property. How do we know you're even a student at this school? You're not wearing your student card, which is a breach of the rules."
Levi muttered something about Miss Anderson, but shut up when Scott flexed the fingers on the hand he was holding open. True to his word, he didn't reiterate his demand for Jayden to hand his bag over.
"I've nothing to hide," Jayden spat, buoyed by the belief that justice was on his side, "If you can prove to me that you really were sent to take us to a tutoring session, I'll let you search my bag. I think you'll be disappointed though. I tossed all my spray paint and stolen phones in the trash last night."
Scott felt the calmness engulfing him intensify somewhat as he fished his student card out of his blazer pocket. Perhaps his rage was so intense it was somehow triggering a reverse chemical reaction inside his brain? Maybe his cortisol reserves had finally run dry, leaving him with nothing but arterial tension and a sense of delusional euphoria.
Jayden meanwhile, was making the swift transition from cocky to brick-shitting as his eyes clapped onto a familiar surname.
Tracy.
Which, unless he was much mistaken, was also Gordon's surname.
It was. He'd called him by it less than twenty four hours ago.
'Hey, Tracy! What took you so long? Got wedged behind your desk again?'
Whoops.
Jayden felt the tidal wave of regret engulfing him recede slightly when he told himself that, had he of known about Gordon's impossibly tall, rather broad-shouldered high school brother, he would have most definitely found a different target.
"The bag," Scott clipped, his tone as lethal as his expression, "Hand it over. Now."
A beat of silence passed, followed by a scowl that signalled Jayden's refusal to yield to Scott's dominance, "Why? That chubby brother of yours hungry again?"
Fuelled by the fire of protectiveness, the beast Scott had been desperately supressing snapped it's chain and went for the kill.
Three minutes later…
It was with bloody hands than Scott stooped to pick up his brother's seahorse from where it had rolled onto the ground, the red a stark contrast against the soft blues and pinks of the fabric.
He'd made his point. Those little shits wouldn't be going near Gordon again. Not so long as he was around.
"SCOTT TRACY!"
A bellowing announcement over the school's loudspeaker system dumped cold water over the eldest's mood. Once again, he'd protected a brother at the expense of himself.
He really needed Virgil to start taking more shifts.
