Author's Notes: Chapter two is up. (sigh) I need to get to bed. Good night Cleveland, you've been a wonderful crowd.
"Are you sure you want to go to school today?" Laura Hardy asked the youngest of her two sons over breakfast the next morning.
"Yeah mom...I feel...well, I feel good enough." Joe said sheepishly.
"Well, if you start to feel ill, call us and we'll come pick you up," Joe's father, Fenton Hardy, asserted. Internally he was proud that Joe was willing to go to school despite his not feeling well, it showed that Joe was maturing and showing initiative.
"The coach called last night, by the way, you're benched for at least a week. After that maybe you can be an alternate lineman, but for now, just take it easy. Wouldn't want to see you go down like that again, little brother," Frank told him with a grin.
"Yes that was just horrible how that man just charged at you," Aunt Gertrude said, pouring Fenton his coffee.
"It's his job, Aunt Gertrude. Joe doesn't take it personally, right?" Fenton asked in a playful tone.
Joe shrugged.
"Well try to avoid further situations like that, all right?" Laura Hardy asked her two boys with the look she reserved for when they were on a dangerous case. Frank took a big bite out of his bagel and grabbed his book bag.
"Whatever you want mom, c'mon Joe. If you really are going to school, we better go now."
Joe nodded and rose from the table, gulping down the last of the milk in his glass before heading out the door.
***
"Maybe I should have stayed at home," Joe groaned, staring at his pop quiz for U.S. history.
Behind him Chet Morton laughed, handing him a pencil. "Good luck, man."
Forty-five minutes later and his head was still reeling.
"I think I just failed." Joe sighed, stuffing his papers quickly into his backpack.
Chet laid a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure if you study hard enough you could pass this class." The two friends darted through the crowded halls of Bayport High to Joe's locker.
"So why am I failing?" Joe asked, exasperatedly, dialing the combination.
"How's your head?" A small voice called behind him.
Whirling around, Joe was struck with a distant feeling of nausea and would have fallen if it weren't for the strong arms that suddenly supported him. One was Chet's and the other belonged to...
"Jules?"
The petite red head smiled. "Aww...you remembered. Most of my concussion patients can barely remember their own names, nonetheless mine."
"Are you okay, Joe?" Chet asked, breaking their brief moment of reverie.
"Yeah," Joe said, shaking his head as if trying to clear it. "I'm okay now."
Jules tilted her head slightly to the side, acknowledging Chet's presence. Slowly, she retracted her hand.
"Mrs. Bascomb is here today, so if you start feeling ill you should go see her during lunch or something."
Joe nodded blankly. Smiling, Jules reached over and touched the back of Joe's hand with the tip of her index finger.
"Look alive, okay? You have another period to get through before lunch." Turning, she disappeared through the crowds of students in the hall.
"Who was that?" Chet asked, looking at Joe in bewilderment.
Joe shrugged. "A friend...I guess."
"You sure about that?"
Joe turned and faced Chet with unconcealed wonder. "What do you mean?"
Chet shook his head and shrugged. "I've never seen you look at Vanessa like that."
Joe shook his head and cuffed Chet lightly on the arm. "You're hallucinating."
"Am I?" Chet asked seriousness embedded in his voice.
"Yeah, you are. Come on, we have to get to class." Joe slammed his locker a little louder than he had intended and briskly dodged through the hallway, Chet reluctantly tailing him.
During lunch Joe went to see Coach Bradbury in the boy's lockeroom. He could hear voices whispering. One of them sounded like Randy Carmichael, another sounded like Tom Harding, the quarterback for the Tritons and the other was definitely Coach Bradbury.
Joe shrugged, he supposed if his teammates came down to visit their coach it wasn't such a big deal. Finally, he heard the voices coming closer and the coach opened the door to his office.
"Joe!" Bradbury called, signaling for Joe to step into his office, which he did with little hesitation. Randy bolted up and nodding to Bradbury, left the office after a few seconds. The other person in the room was in fact, Harding, as well as another boy that wasn't on the football team.
"What's up Hardy? How are you feeling? Still sore from yesterday."
Joe shrugged. "I felt good enough to come to school today, didn't I?"
Bradbury laughed. "Yes, I suppose so. So what business do you have with me, boy?"
"Frank told me you called and said I was out for a week."
Bradbury nodded. "Yup. School policy, can't have you playing with the konker you suffered last night, just wouldn't be kosher."
"I know that coach," Joe said, nodding. "I just wanted to ask you if I could spend my d.l. time at home instead of on the bench. I would like to do some catching up on my studies."
Coach Bradbury nodded. "Seems reasonable enough. I got other people to warm the benches for me. You go ahead and go on home for the rest of the week. See me on Monday."
Joe nodded. "Thanks coach," he said, stepping out of the office.
After a few paces he noticed that someone was trailing him. Turning he bumped straight into Randy.
"Sorry man."
Joe smiled. "It's all right Randy. Thanks for all your help yesterday."
Randy scratched his head. "Think nothing of it. Hey, how are you feeling really?"
"Not so hot."
"Hey look," Randy searched in his bag. "I have some aspirin in my bag, you should take two."
Joe shook his head. "No thanks man."
"Why not? It's just aspirin?"
Yeah, Joe thought, it's just aspirin.
"All right, but I'll only take one. Thanks Randy."
"Think nothing of it."
The rest of the day was a blur; Joe's headaches fluctuated from being almost unbearable to nothing within seconds.
Maybe Jules was right, Joe thought, maybe I should see the school nurse. As if reading his mind, Frank immediately walked over to his little brother and took his hand, pulling him aside.
"Is your head still hurting?" Frank asked.
"Right now it's okay...it was excruciating a second ago."
Frank nodded. "Stay here, I had Mr. Richardson for American literature last year too, so I could probably talk him into letting you out of class today to see the school nurse."
Joe nodded and tried to smirk a bit. "Thanks Frank."
Frank's arm went around Joe's shoulder for a minute before he walked into Mr. Richardson's room.
As he heard the door click shut behind him, Joe began leaning against the wall for support. Finally, his legs gave out and he was on the floor.
"Joe? Joe?"
Distantly he heard someone calling his name. Suddenly another person's arms were wrapped around him, but they definitely weren't Frank's.
"Jules?" He murmured before he lost consciousness.
"Are you sure you want to go to school today?" Laura Hardy asked the youngest of her two sons over breakfast the next morning.
"Yeah mom...I feel...well, I feel good enough." Joe said sheepishly.
"Well, if you start to feel ill, call us and we'll come pick you up," Joe's father, Fenton Hardy, asserted. Internally he was proud that Joe was willing to go to school despite his not feeling well, it showed that Joe was maturing and showing initiative.
"The coach called last night, by the way, you're benched for at least a week. After that maybe you can be an alternate lineman, but for now, just take it easy. Wouldn't want to see you go down like that again, little brother," Frank told him with a grin.
"Yes that was just horrible how that man just charged at you," Aunt Gertrude said, pouring Fenton his coffee.
"It's his job, Aunt Gertrude. Joe doesn't take it personally, right?" Fenton asked in a playful tone.
Joe shrugged.
"Well try to avoid further situations like that, all right?" Laura Hardy asked her two boys with the look she reserved for when they were on a dangerous case. Frank took a big bite out of his bagel and grabbed his book bag.
"Whatever you want mom, c'mon Joe. If you really are going to school, we better go now."
Joe nodded and rose from the table, gulping down the last of the milk in his glass before heading out the door.
***
"Maybe I should have stayed at home," Joe groaned, staring at his pop quiz for U.S. history.
Behind him Chet Morton laughed, handing him a pencil. "Good luck, man."
Forty-five minutes later and his head was still reeling.
"I think I just failed." Joe sighed, stuffing his papers quickly into his backpack.
Chet laid a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure if you study hard enough you could pass this class." The two friends darted through the crowded halls of Bayport High to Joe's locker.
"So why am I failing?" Joe asked, exasperatedly, dialing the combination.
"How's your head?" A small voice called behind him.
Whirling around, Joe was struck with a distant feeling of nausea and would have fallen if it weren't for the strong arms that suddenly supported him. One was Chet's and the other belonged to...
"Jules?"
The petite red head smiled. "Aww...you remembered. Most of my concussion patients can barely remember their own names, nonetheless mine."
"Are you okay, Joe?" Chet asked, breaking their brief moment of reverie.
"Yeah," Joe said, shaking his head as if trying to clear it. "I'm okay now."
Jules tilted her head slightly to the side, acknowledging Chet's presence. Slowly, she retracted her hand.
"Mrs. Bascomb is here today, so if you start feeling ill you should go see her during lunch or something."
Joe nodded blankly. Smiling, Jules reached over and touched the back of Joe's hand with the tip of her index finger.
"Look alive, okay? You have another period to get through before lunch." Turning, she disappeared through the crowds of students in the hall.
"Who was that?" Chet asked, looking at Joe in bewilderment.
Joe shrugged. "A friend...I guess."
"You sure about that?"
Joe turned and faced Chet with unconcealed wonder. "What do you mean?"
Chet shook his head and shrugged. "I've never seen you look at Vanessa like that."
Joe shook his head and cuffed Chet lightly on the arm. "You're hallucinating."
"Am I?" Chet asked seriousness embedded in his voice.
"Yeah, you are. Come on, we have to get to class." Joe slammed his locker a little louder than he had intended and briskly dodged through the hallway, Chet reluctantly tailing him.
During lunch Joe went to see Coach Bradbury in the boy's lockeroom. He could hear voices whispering. One of them sounded like Randy Carmichael, another sounded like Tom Harding, the quarterback for the Tritons and the other was definitely Coach Bradbury.
Joe shrugged, he supposed if his teammates came down to visit their coach it wasn't such a big deal. Finally, he heard the voices coming closer and the coach opened the door to his office.
"Joe!" Bradbury called, signaling for Joe to step into his office, which he did with little hesitation. Randy bolted up and nodding to Bradbury, left the office after a few seconds. The other person in the room was in fact, Harding, as well as another boy that wasn't on the football team.
"What's up Hardy? How are you feeling? Still sore from yesterday."
Joe shrugged. "I felt good enough to come to school today, didn't I?"
Bradbury laughed. "Yes, I suppose so. So what business do you have with me, boy?"
"Frank told me you called and said I was out for a week."
Bradbury nodded. "Yup. School policy, can't have you playing with the konker you suffered last night, just wouldn't be kosher."
"I know that coach," Joe said, nodding. "I just wanted to ask you if I could spend my d.l. time at home instead of on the bench. I would like to do some catching up on my studies."
Coach Bradbury nodded. "Seems reasonable enough. I got other people to warm the benches for me. You go ahead and go on home for the rest of the week. See me on Monday."
Joe nodded. "Thanks coach," he said, stepping out of the office.
After a few paces he noticed that someone was trailing him. Turning he bumped straight into Randy.
"Sorry man."
Joe smiled. "It's all right Randy. Thanks for all your help yesterday."
Randy scratched his head. "Think nothing of it. Hey, how are you feeling really?"
"Not so hot."
"Hey look," Randy searched in his bag. "I have some aspirin in my bag, you should take two."
Joe shook his head. "No thanks man."
"Why not? It's just aspirin?"
Yeah, Joe thought, it's just aspirin.
"All right, but I'll only take one. Thanks Randy."
"Think nothing of it."
The rest of the day was a blur; Joe's headaches fluctuated from being almost unbearable to nothing within seconds.
Maybe Jules was right, Joe thought, maybe I should see the school nurse. As if reading his mind, Frank immediately walked over to his little brother and took his hand, pulling him aside.
"Is your head still hurting?" Frank asked.
"Right now it's okay...it was excruciating a second ago."
Frank nodded. "Stay here, I had Mr. Richardson for American literature last year too, so I could probably talk him into letting you out of class today to see the school nurse."
Joe nodded and tried to smirk a bit. "Thanks Frank."
Frank's arm went around Joe's shoulder for a minute before he walked into Mr. Richardson's room.
As he heard the door click shut behind him, Joe began leaning against the wall for support. Finally, his legs gave out and he was on the floor.
"Joe? Joe?"
Distantly he heard someone calling his name. Suddenly another person's arms were wrapped around him, but they definitely weren't Frank's.
"Jules?" He murmured before he lost consciousness.