I'm back! Like I said I would be! This never happens. And I mean never.
I have one review response, and then you may read the chapter.
JustVildaPotter: Thank you! You're the only person reading this so far, but that's okay. I'm glad the backstory fit. Jack must protect Crutchie. It's what he does. And thanks again about the accents! I have so much fun writing the way these characters talk, though it's a bit hard to wrap my grammatical brain around.
And on we go!
Chapter 2- David
Wednesday, September 15, 1999, 6:50 a.m.
"Sarah, come on!" David Jacobs pounded on the bathroom door. "We have to get going!"
From inside the bathroom, he could hear the sound of a hair dryer over Sarah's loud singing. He didn't recognize the song, but as far as he could tell, she wasn't butchering it. Singing and hogging the bathroom, David had quickly figured out, was a staple in Sarah's daily routine. Which had been all well and good a month ago, when it was summer and David didn't have anywhere to be, but on the first day of school it become a hassle. Not to mention the first day at a brand new school. David would have been lying if he said he wasn't dreading it. And not only was it a new school, but it was a new school in a completely different part of the city. David had no idea how things worked at a public school in Lower Manhattan. He'd tried asking Sarah, but she had done nothing but provide him with horror stories about how new kids were treated: being shoved into lockers, getting their heads flushed down the toilet, and such things you would expect from bullies on television shows. While David knew the stories weren't true (probably), he could have used some actual help from his older sister.
And speaking of Sarah...
A high-pitched riff cut through the hair dryer noise, indicating that she either hadn't heard a word David had said or she simply did not care. Most likely the latter.
Exasperated, David ceased his efforts to speed up Sarah. He left the small hallway that led to the apartment's three bedrooms, choosing to instead join his younger brother at the kitchen table. The nine-year-old boy was wearing shorts and a child-sized derby hat, but no shirt. David sighed loudly as he dropped into a chair across from Les.
"What." The little boy asked, dumping more cereal into his bowl.
"I hope you aren't planning to leave the house like that."
"One thing at a time," mumbled Les through a giant mouthful, causing David to grimace at the sight of half chewed food. "Food first, then clothes."
David put his elbows on the table, laying his face in his hands and rubbing his temples. "That should not be how that works."
"If you had to choose between food and clothes and you could only have one, wouldn't you pick food?"
"I don't have to choose."
"Some people do."
"Who do you know that's in that bad of a situation?"
"Dad."
If David had been eating anything, he would have choked on it. "Who told you that?"
Les ticked them off on his fingers. "Mom, Sarah, Dad himself."
"Dad never said-" David started.
His brother shrugged. "It was implied."
"Dad's doing fine. He only lost his job."
"He got fired, you mean. And he's obviously not doing fine. Why else would we be living here and not with him?"
David knew Les was right, and he hated that fact. Mr. Jacobs had indeed been fired after becoming injured at the construction site where he worked. Out of work and stuck with a broken leg that wouldn't heal for at least six months, he had sent his sons to live with their mother and sister, both of whom they hadn't shared a house with since Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs' separation two years before.
"It's only temporary," insisted David, repeating the phrase his father had said way too often in recent conversations with his eldest son.
Les raised one eyebrow. "Is it?"
David was sick of the way Les acted twice his age. "Just hurry up, would you?"
"Why? Aren't our schools right down the street from each other?"
Yes. Yes they were. "Even so, if two-thirds of us could be ready right now, that would be marvelous."
His brother rolled his eyes at the phrasing and chugged the milk from his cereal bowl. "I'm almost ready. Unlike some people, who're still moping around in their old school uniform."
"This is what I'm wearing today." David self-consciously straightened his blue and white striped tie, making sure it was properly positioned under his gray vest.
"Um, okay. Have fun with that."
Down the hall, the bathroom door opened, and out walked Sarah, wearing a long black skirt along with a white sweatshirt that hung down past her waist. Her dark brown hair was arranged in a long braid that rested on her right shoulder. On her feet were a pair of black combat boots, not at all a practical choice for the hot summer weather outside the apartment.
"I'm ready now," Sarah walked into the kitchen. "Don't get your boxers in a bunch."
Les laughed at that. David rolled his eyes at the pair of them. "Go get your shirt on, Les."
The little boy ran off to do just that, while Sarah looked David over. "Don't you have any normal clothes?"
"I like this uniform. Besides, it isn't any different from what you're wearing."
"It's very different. Trust me."
"And why is that, exactly?"
Sarah sighed. "Dave, everyone already knows me. And lots of people dress like this. If you want everyone's first impression to be that you're a stuck-up nerd, that's fine, but don't blame me if you end up getting punched before the end of first period."
"Excuse me?"
Sarah walked past the couch that almost completely filled the tiny living room area. She plopped down in the chair in front of the family computer, her skirt billowing around her as she did so. "Take my advice and lose the uniform, alright?"
"I don't care what anyone thinks," David slipped off his blazer, trying to appear as if he'd originally planned to do it, and hadn't been influenced by his sister.
"But you do," Sarah turned on the computer. "I know you do."
Stunned, David sat alone at the table. What did Sarah know about him? They hadn't lived together for the past two years. Sarah had changed a lot in those two years. Surely, the same had happened to David. He stood up and walked over to the corner, leaning his arms on top of the computer. This simple action was made incredibly awkward by his height, as he was a bit too tall for this to work properly, but that didn't matter to him at the moment.
"Is everyone at school as judgy as you?"
"Not exactly. Most people aren't. But those who are, well, let's just say you don't want to mess with them."
"Very specific. That helps a lot."
"Alright, alright. You want my help?" Sarah clicked on the screen that had finally loaded, and rapidly typed into the search box. The next time she spoke to her brother, she had a black-and-white photo pulled up. "See these two? Morris and Oscar Delancey. You see them, you run in the opposite direction."
David studied the photo. The younger of the two boys looked about Sarah's age, while the other looked a few years too old for a high school student. And was that a set of brass knuckles on his hand? "Noted."
"Save for those two monsters, the most trouble you'll run into is some mild teasing," she assured her brother. "I know I've been trying to freak you out lately, but I was only trying to prepare you. You aren't in Kansas anymore, y'know?"
David smiled at the reference. Sarah's cell phone beeped, taking her attention away from her brother. When she looked at whatever the message said, an excited grin spread across her face.
"It's back."
"What's back?"
Sarah clicked around for a moment, bringing up a simple website. All black text on a plain white background, with a few photographs sprinkled here and there. She made a quick search before gesturing for David to look at the screen again. "Take a look."
"The Roosevelt High World? Why are you so excited about a school newspaper?"
"Read the headline."
"'Five Dead, Hundreds Injured After Meatloaf Incident'," David read aloud. "Do I even want to know?"
"It's art, Dave. That headline had the whole school believing it for a week, trying to figure out who'd died. Everyone was unbelievably disappointed to learn nothing more exciting than a small bout of food poisoning had happened. But even after the truth was leaked, readership was up for months while the school board tried to find the person who wrote that headline."
"And did they?"
"Nope. To this day, no one knows who wrote the article. But every once in a while, there'll be an article with a similar headline." Sarah scrolled for a moment. "Like today, for example."
David scanned the screen. The newest story, published that morning at exactly seven o'clock, was headed: Hot Journalism Major Returns For Second Year of Student Teaching. "That's, um, not as extreme as the other one."
"It'll get the school board wound up for sure." Reading through the article, Sarah remarked, "It won't be for any good reason, though. Look at this, it's like a resume."
Indeed, it was. Contrary to the title, the article consisted of a couple resume-like paragraphs, listing the merits of the young woman in question, someone named Katherine Plumber.
"What the heck? That poor student teacher."
"Stuff like this happens to her all the time."
David pursed his lips. "You didn't write this, did you?"
Sarah laughed. "Me? No way. I'm no writer. Besides, the school newspaper can only be edited from the computers at school. Unless, of course, you know the editor's passwords." David gave her a look. "Hey, I didn't say I knew any passwords. Much less the identity of the person writing these headlines. Hell, it might even be more than one person." She raised her eyebrows multiple times in a row. "It's a mystery."
"What's a mystery?" wondered Les, who had returned, fully dressed, his backpack around his shoulders.
"I'll explain on the way, munchkin," promised Sarah, standing up. "We'd better start heading to the subway before this one-" she jerked a thumb at David- "starts mothering us again."
"There's nothing wrong with wanting to be punctual!" David protested, following his siblings out of the apartment.
Say hello to the Jacobs siblings! Look at that, Sarah has an actual personality!
It seems we have a mystery afoot... Any guesses as to who wrote about Katherine? (It shouldn't be that hard to predict, and I'm gonna reveal it fairly soon.)
Just like last time, please review with any criticisms, questions, or comments!