Title: Another Brick in the Wall

Chapter:

Author: Lea of Mirkwood

Disclaimer: I do not own the Faculty or mean and obtrusive guidance counselors or those college books that make you feel like you're stupid and hopeless for not knowing what you're going to be when you grow up. I wish I did own them so I could hurt Zeke, steal Casey, hurt Delilah and slaughter and neuter and maim those boys who were running Casey on the flagpole, though not necessarily in that order. I would also make those guidance counselors pay, though leave the nice ones who let you transfer out of a boring class. I would burn those unholy books, and save the world from their self-esteem lowering text.

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Kit groaned and looked up at the ceiling and rolled her eyes back.

"I hate college applications..." she moaned melodramatically. She fell back forward and started banging her head against the table.

"Mom, can't I fill these in later?" called Casey to the other room. 'It's not like I have any life anyway...'

"No! You need to do them now!"

Casey looked down at the pile of applications. The names of the schools all blurred together. Stanford, Harvard, Princeton, Ohio State. He groaned. Despite their prestigious backgrounds, none appealed to him. Then he noticed something. At the bottom of the pile was an application for the Savannah School of Design in Georgia. Specialty in art and graphic design. Some kind of interest sparked up in him. He could take photography and a few journalism classes. And best of all...it was as far away from his parents as he could get without going to the Sorbonne in Paris.

Zeke was laying, snoring on the couch in his house. Lying on the floor next to the table, next to the wall was an application for Herrington Community College, half filled out but left blank under Parent's Occupation.

Delilah pointed to the application for the University of Michigan.

"Stan, we should go here. They have a wonderful football program and cheerleading program. I could major in journalism and I'm sure there's something you could do that would...make you happy."

Stan stared at Delilah in amazement.

Stokely yawned and flipped her television to Sci-Fi.

"Do they have a college that lets me major in science fiction...?

Senior Poll #3: Most Likely to Succeed

Casey Conner: Delilah Profitt

Stokely Mitchell: At what?

Delilah Profitt: Delilah Profitt

Stan Rosado: At what?

Gabe Santora: Gabe Santora

Katherine O'Connell: I don't know.

Zeke Tyler: That weird girl who made all those guys leave that little geeky kid alone.

October 2, 1998

Zeke sat down on the trunk of his car and watched the students go by. None of them made any effort to go near him. He cracked a wry smile at that. It was like he was the plague. Then he saw the little light blue Mazda Miata pull up nearby. That new girl got out and started getting her things together. He eyed her speculatively. Not classically pretty at all, but more of a sharp look to her. But yeah, somehow her charisma made her somewhat attractive. Not that he was remotely interested in her romantically, but psychologically it would be interesting to see how she lasted out of the farm. She had to pass his car to get to the school. Here came the test. If she avoided the car, he wouldn't warn her. If she walked right past without flinching, he would warn her. She approached the car, her messenger bag bouncing against her hip as she reached her hands up to tighten a rubber band in her hair. Zeke stretched out his legs so they stuck out a good three feet away from the car, blocking her path. He grinned at her as she looked up at him. She grinned back, but in a edgier way, matching attitude with attitude.

"Ah, excuse me, can I get by here?" An innocent enough question, when put into print it seemed passive, but somehow the way she smiled as she said it made it more of a challenge, a little more dangerous. Zeke pushed his sunglasses up onto the top of his head.

"Hey," he said slowly, with an almost lazy air.

"Yeah, Hi. Can I get by here?"

Zeke raised his eyebrows. "Maybe. But I have something to tell you first."

She sighed. "No, I would not like to buy drugs; no, I would not like to buy porn; no, I will not go out with you; and no, you may not take my car for a joyride. Does that cover everything?"

Zeke's grin widened. "Not exactly, but you have a pretty good profile of my character."

"Yeah, well, I make it a point to watch people."

"You've been watching little Casey a lot lately."

"He's not little, and yes I have. Why is it your business?"

"How would you know?"

For a split second her face went blank, and then she got it. "Don't be crude."

"Well, you see, I'm not the one who started it. It's all over school. It's so interesting and scintillating. How Casey and the new girl hooked up after the football star's party and he went home with her. How engaging. It's been a while since there's been something so juicy here. And to add to the drama: the new girl has a boyfriend in another state. What would he think of this? I think they're going to be on this like a dog with a bone."

She stared at him for a few minutes, not speaking, just working out what he had just said and how this would affect things. Finally she spoke.

"Zeke, I appreciate you telling me this, but the way you seemed to delight in bringing bad news makes me like you even less than I did before, if that's possible."

Zeke laughed and let his sunglasses fall back onto the bridge of his nose.

"You passed the test."

"Any test given by you has to be worth very little."

Zeke laughed harder and held out his hand for her to shake. "What's your name? Kate?"

She reluctantly shook his hand. "Kit. Kit O'Connell."

"Nice to meet you."

"Yeah."

--- --- ---

Casey sat down in his seat in American History, stunned by what Kit had just told him. The bell rang and he mechanically pulled out his notes and started copying what was on the board. He glanced back at Kit and mouthed, "Are you serious???"

She gave him an exasperated look that he could clearly interpret in Kit-speak as, "Of course I am."

Casey turned back to the front of the room, a panicked look on his face. He wiped his forehead which had broken out into a cold sweat. He heard a small giggle to the right of him and looked down, imagining it was about him.

"He's such an idiot," came a whisper from the other side of the room. Casey flinched and tried not to hear.

"So desperate," said another hissing voice. Casey looked down at his paper and stopped taking notes, just concentrating on completely ignoring the voices all around him, mocking him and laughing at him. He looked back at Kit and only then heard the whispers of, "slut," "easy," and "freak-seeker." She was studiously copying down the notes. Casey turned his concentration to willing the floor to open up and swallow him whole.

--- --- ---

Kit sighed and opened her locker and took out her things. Casey, a few lockers down, wasn't there yet. She shoved her books into her backpack and popped a butterscotch candy into her mouth. Leaning against her locker, she ignored the masses moving by her like cattle, heading for the doors. She softly mooed at them, and a few students glared at her. Maybe that could be her term paper. How students are like cows. A few freshmen were stepped on across the hall, and they let out little yelps. Suddenly a shorter girl was shoved out of the way by one of the football players. She swung her purse around and smacked it into the football player's shoulder.

"Watch where you're going!" she yelled, and then stepped into the alcove next to Kit to wait out the cattle herd. She folded her arms across her chest and frowned.

"I hate being short," she muttered and turned to Kit, who was a good three inches taller.

"Hello tall person," she said good-naturedly. "I'm Gracie Simons."

Kit smiled. "Kit O'Connell. New student and current gossip subject."

"Senior despite vertically-challenged state," countered Gracie. Kit snorted.

"Well, you've seen Casey, right? He's only an inch taller than you."

Gracie frowned. "Who?"

Kit glanced up at the almost empty hall. "The one peeking out of the janitors closet."

Gracie looked over and her brow furrowed. "Is he okay?"

"Oh, just avoiding jock-inflicted physical abuse, cheerleader inflicted verbal abuse and slaughter of dignity and self-respect," said Kit absently. "Hey, Casey!" she called. The door to the janitors closet slammed shut.

"I would hide too, if I had to go through everything he does," explained Kit. She beckoned to Gracie. "C'mon. Let's go get Casey before he finds the jar of bleach and turns his shirt white."

She walked across the hall and opened the door. Casey stumbled backward and tripped over the mop and bucket of soapy water and fell over onto some cardboard boxes. The waster splashed all over and soaked his ankles and shoes. He looked up at the two girls. Kit snickered and then stopped abruptly.

"I'm sorry," she said, fighting off the giggles. "It's really not that funny..." She trailed off as she broke into peals of laughter, joined shortly by Gracie's giggles. Casey slowly picked himself up as the girls clutched the doorjamb for support. Kit doubled over, putting her hands on her thighs as she laughed so hard tears rolled down her cheeks. Casey stood there in a puddle of soapy water, watching the hysterical pair. Their giggles finally trailed off and Kit reached in and took Casey's arm and led him out. His wet Keds made little squelching noises which set them off again. Casey waited a few more minutes for them to quiet again. Finally Kit regained control, although the two were still grinning.

"Casey, this is Gracie. She's a senior like us."

Gracie smiled and said to Kit, "Actually you're in my gym class too. And now that I've seen him, I know he's in my Calc class, which I also have with you," she finished, pointing to Kit. Then she turned to Casey and said, "I just didn't know your name. How old are you guys? I'm seventeen."

"Seventeen," said Casey. "Turning eighteen in May."

"Seventeen, turning eighteen in two weeks!" said Kit happily. "Legal age, here I come!"

Gracie smiled. "Well, my birthday's in December, the fourteenth.

"Mine's the fifteenth of November," said Kit.

"May first," said Casey. He opened his locker and took out some of his notebooks and put them in his bag. Then he closed the locker door and locked it and rested his forehead on the cold metal of the door. Kit leaned up against the locker next to him, and peered at his face intently. After a minute she pecked him on the cheek, ruffled his hair and said, "Feel better." Then she turned to Gracie and started chattering away about a movie they both saw and then complained about the calculus homework. That caught Casey's attention.

"We had homework?" he asked worriedly.

"Yeah, she only said it fifty times," said Gracie. Kit pulled out a scrap of paper and scribbled down the page number and problems and stuffed it in the front pocket of Casey's shirt.

"There. Don't wash the shirt with the homework in it."

"How can you do that?" he suddenly burst out, yelling. "How can you just sit there and ignore what they're saying about you? They're calling you a slut! They're calling you freak-seeker! Can't you hear them? They're everywhere, and they're after me too! I can't even think and you're sitting over there completely oblivious! You're not even human! It's like you can't even feel!"

Gracie grimaced and handed Kit a scrap of paper with her email address. "I think I'll go now," she said, tactfully excusing herself. Casey continued to yell.

"You're not normal! You should have left me at Gabe's! I'm grounded for a week because of you! You don't hear anything they say about you! Every time you speak to me in school you embarrass me! I try to avoid you but you won't leave me alone! They pick on me anyway! And you're just making it worse! You made it worse by helping me! Now I'm even more pathetic! You know why? Because I'm being 'helped,' if you can call it help, by the school slut! The school slut who seems to go out of her way to humiliate me and make me feel worse than before! It's inhuman! Why do you do this to me?! Why can't you leave me alone?"

Kit flinched and Casey stopped abruptly. Kit's face was set in an emotionless mask.

"Fuck you, you don't know anything about me. Nothing," she hissed. "How do you think it feels, having no friends, no one you know. Being completely uprooted from what you knew and all your friends. Just dropped into another world and expected to adapt. Inhuman? You think I'm inhuman? If I were inhuman I would let you get racked on the flagpole. I would laugh. I would let you get faced and I would watch Gabe and his asshole friends drop you on the highway somewhere where you didn't know where you were. Because that's what they would have done. So guess what? As of now you are back to ZERO friends. Can you count that? ZERO."

Kit turned and started walking down the hall away from Casey who was standing in the middle of the hall, only then realizing what he had just done.

--- --- ---

Kit O'Connell

It's not that I don't feel, it's just that I don't care.

--- --- ---

Casey Conner

30 days until Christmas Vacation. 30 days until Christmas Vacation. 30 days until Christmas Vacation.

--- --- ---