"Before her time"
by
Bob Marley
Chapter 1: Mack
(What was the beginning of freshman year like for Jodie, Mack and Jane? This is my shot at that particular "what if?" and my first ever attempt at a prose based piece, so hold on folks, you're in my world now.)
The alarm buzz brought Michael Jordan Mackenzie out of a moderately disturbing dream and back into the real world, which for him was almost as dissatisfying. Using a well-muscled arm, the young man grabbed the corner of the nearby bookshelf and used his upper body to lever himself to a sitting position on the bed. So far so good, which wasn't saying much for the first five seconds of the day, especially given this was going to be his first day of classes at Lawndale High School. Mack paused a second to knock some respect into the clock radio with a quick tap of his fist before taking stock. His room, his house, he was safe. It might have struck someone who wasn't familiar with his last year in middle school as pretty strange coming from a guy as smart, tough and supposedly together as he was supposed to be. But then that wasn't something he wanted to think about right now.
The room itself was probably normal for an African American young adult, if you didn't look too closely, but here and there the occasional touch of Mack's less obvious side was apparent. The large shot of Malcolm X with "By any means necessary"(in strident capitals beneath the martyred Civil Rights leader's handsome face) in among "The Roots" and "Public Enemy" posters adorning the walls. Across the room, a number of framed certificates and citations from Mack's career as a scout competed for space with the large and eclectic collection of trophies involving achievement in everything from Football to a small school chess tournament. Though that was something else he didn't want to think about just now.
Getting up, Mack walked over to the massive collection showcasing his accomplishments in life, his father had insisted on locating in a dominant position in the room. Pausing a moment to take it all in, he reached down among the vast sea of shiny plastic and metal to pick up a black felt lined case that was almost lost among the profusion of other accolades. Opening it reverently, the he gazed down at the stylized silver eagle attached to a silver cross-bar by a red, white, and blue ribbon. Here was something that really meant something that represented something above shallow victory or ego stroking. This was something nobody could take away, the highest rank awarded and one of the few things he let himself feel real pride about. He hoped he could live up to what it represented.
Closing the case and setting it back down, Mack turned to start getting ready for his first day of High School. But not before addressing the poster of Malcolm X in a low voice with a touch of an ironic smile on his lips. "Well Brother Malcolm, wish me luck, I'm going into the belly of the beast today." Shaking his head at himself and thinking "Talking to inanimate objects, huh, man? Real sign of mental health." Mack headed for the family bathroom and a quick shower. This first day wasn't going to be easy but things could be a lot worse and he wasn't going to let the situation get to him.
The "not let the situation get to me" attitude lasted only until about five minutes after Mack walked through the front door of the school. Which was when he encountered one of his team mates on the Varsity Football squad (he'd been surprised he'd made the cut for), starting Quarterback, Kevin Thompson. A product of mostly inner-city school's before his family had moved to Lawndale, Mack had known some brother's who were pretty far behind the curve, intelligence wise, (and what was worse didn't much care about changing that fact). Even they paled in comparison with Kevin. Here was one white boy who'd taken a few too many shots to the head.
Mack flinched vaguely at his own prejudiced insight as Kevin continued to blather non-stop while they walked down the hall. He was reminded of something his father had told him the night before to the effect that he should be careful "not to scare the white folk" on his first day at a mostly white High School. Mack felt himself mentally laugh scornfully at the whole concept. Of course, prejudice could cut both ways, but he really did hope to find some people he had something in common with here, no matter what color their skin. Finally, it registered that he'd made it to his first class and with a quick nod of dismissal to Kevin he ducked into the classroom.
The class itself was supposed to be freshman level "Honors" biology with a teacher named "Barch" according to his schedule and the room looked the part. The usual science oriented charts and pictures graced the walls and the fire/chemical proof lab benches were par for the course. What he wasn't prepared for was the short and moderately stocky older woman at the front of the classroom who zeroed in on him as soon as he came in the door and shouted "YOU! MAN! SIT!" at him before he could even really get his bearings. So much for making an escape. Suppressing an urge to salute sardonically, Mack managed to find a seat at the nearest bench close to the rear of the class. He'd have liked to be up front so he could really pay attention to the lecture but something about the way the lady up front (was she Barch?) had addressed him made him glad he was further back. What had he done to get on her bad side?
Unfortunately, as class got started, Mack found out exactly what he'd done to provoke his Biology teacher. He'd made the mistake of being born male. Ms. Janet Barch was obviously a fairly embittered divorcee who blamed her ex for just about everything wrong with the universe and she wasn't above taking out her repressed feelings on anything of the opposite sex that got within range. Mack could feel his chances of doing well in the course evaporating already even while Barch called role. He was in the process of contemplating ways to avoid her attention (which wasn't going to be easy, most of the other students were shorter and smaller, just his luck). Then someone walked in the door and made him forget about his problems, instantly.
The young lady in question was a petite African princess, she looked flustered and ill at ease as she walked in but the basically regal bearing and obviously good taste in clothing fairly shouted "I'm here, try and stop me." The long dark locks of hair and neatly turned out appearance completed the package and Mack had to remind himself to stop staring. She was simply beautiful in a classical and very unpretentious way. She was already apologizing to Barch for being late and getting let off easy (due to her sex, the cynical part of his brain noted) before noticing his gaze and shooting him a quick smile (she had a great smile). She sat down in the front row. Her name according to Barch was "Jodie" and Mack was already trying to think of an excuse to get an introduction to her when things decided to go steeply downhill. "Michael Jordan Mackenzie!" Apparently "Landon" had been the only last name ending in "L" and Barch was already contemplating her next victim with a look of contempt, as Mack resignedly raised his hand and said "present" in a quiet voice.
His only victory thereafter was getting her to call him "Mack" instead of "Michael" and that only after a five minute tirade about the worthlessness of football players in general and him in particular. Pretty well disillusioned, and after receiving a homework assignment twice as long as the one given to the female members of the class, Mack left feeling frustrated and just missing a chance to introduce himself to Jodie. She was obviously in a hurry, he thought to himself and he didn't know his way around the building enough yet to figure out where too. Stopping suddenly in the middle of the hall in an effort to get his bearings in the crush of students moving past to change classes, Mack's attention was drawn to a slightly impatient but deadpan voice directly behind him. "I don't remember there being a wall here?"
As he turned, the source of the voice resolved itself into the form of a tall, thin white girl wearing heavy black combat boots, black tights and matching shorts and shirt offset by a long-sleeve red jacket. The effect made took advantage of straight black hair shorn in a severe bowl haircut that emphasized the expressiveness of the angular face while revealing multiple piercings in each ear. Here was someone who looked street-wise enough to fit into the urban school's he was familiar with, no problem. Before he could respond, however, the bright blue eyes and ruby lips collected themselves into a definite smirk. "Yo bruiser, you mind if I get by? You're holding up the works here." The delivery was flat and sarcastic but with no real sting. Mack was used to much worse anyway given where he'd grown up. Between the verbal bashing he'd taken in his first class and the normal shock of getting to know a new place it was all he could do to mumble a quick apology and step aside to let her pass.
"Thank you", the lady in red stopped to regard him again with those clear, dancing blue eyes that almost seemed to laugh at him, seeming to say "Can you believe this place?" Even as he finally got up the nerve to stick out his hand and say "Mike Mackenzie, you are?" Again, smirking, the lips parted to reveal a sardonic smile as she replied in the same mocking but strangely flat tone, "Well, wow, you talk? Jane Lane, see you around." And she was already heading down the packed hall after a quick shake of his hand, leaving him still confused but happy that at least he'd managed to make an impression on someone.