CHAPTER 51: Back to School

Beep beep beep beep beep beep beep click. As he slid his arm off of his alarm radio, Tails groaned and turned his head on his pillow. Even though he knew what time it was, he looked at the clock face, where the numbers 6:00 glowed bright red. He stretched as hard as he could for several seconds before he sat up. He threw his blanket off to his right, twitching his tails irritably, the tips hanging over the foot of the bed.

"And once again," he said, climbing off the mattress and dragging himself toward the bathroom, "my evil plot to get a decent night's sleep is foiled. I swear to God, I'll be so fricking happy when I graduate..." In the bathroom, the first thing he did was take some time out to empty his bladder, which felt to him as though someone had replaced it with a water balloon. Afterwards, he washed his hands and brushed his teeth. As he ran the toothbrush across his front teeth, he felt his stomach rumble.

Breakfast or a shower, he thought. Can't have it both ways. I always spend too much time on either one to get them both done. I wish my bus would come a little later in the morning. That way I could have time to do them both. And now I have another concern, too: what to wear. He took some time out to finish brushing and rinse before he gave anything else another thought. Guess I'll have breakfast. I had a shower last night, so I should be good to go. After that, maybe I should go wake Sonic up and tell him not to go anywhere today... If the dumbasses at school are still playing their stupid little game, I'm probably going to be leaving school in the back of a squad car... unless I get busted up badly enough to warrant an ambulance. Fat chance, though. I stomped a mudhole in Knuckles, so I shouldn't have too much trouble with these jerks. As he thought, Tails was pulling clothes out of his closet and pulling them on. His attire included a white T-shirt, gray pants, socks, and of course shoes. As he slipped his shoes on, he had one more thought; this one disturbed him somewhat.

"If they even let me into the school," he said, thinking aloud. "Mr. Holland might read that letter and decide not to let me return to school until the problem is corrected... if it ever is... Guess there's nothing I can do except give him the letter and see what he says. I suppose if worst comes to worst, I can go for a G.E.D. or something." Picking up his bookbag, he walked out into his living room, where he'd left the letter from the hospital the previous night. He picked it up and slipped it into the red bag, placing it between his orange math book and his green science book. "Well, now that I think about it, maybe that would be the better route to go. Less hazardous to my health, if nothing else." As he chuckled to himself, the fox stepped into his kitchen and opened a cabinet. He pulled out a box of Cheerios and opened it, but when he unfolded the plastic bag inside, two moths flew out of the box and around the room.

God damn it, he thought. I can NEVER catch a break, can I? Guess I'm buying extra at lunch today. And I was hoping, just ONE TIME, that I could walk into school not hungry... God, why do you HATE me? Did I do something wrong in a previous life or something? Irritated, he threw the box into the garbage can beside the refrigerator. Afterward, he opened the refrigerator and pulled out a plastic package containing sliced chicken and a bottle of ketchup. He set these down on the counter to his left and reached for another plastic bag, this one containing a loaf of whitewheat bread. Half of the bag was folded underneath the bread, sealing it shut instead of the traditional twist tie. He opened it and pulled out two slices of the bread, then folded the bag once more and replaced it. He opened the ziplock chicken container and removed several slices, the combined thickness of which was roughly half an inch. After placing these on one slice of bread, he picked up the ketchup bottle and shook it, then he opened the lid and squeezed the red substance out onto the incomplete sandwich. As he stuck the two pieces of bread together with the chicken in the middle, he closed the ketchup bottle and the chicken container before throwing them both back into the refrigerator. He closed the door as he left the kitchen with his favorite sandwich.

"Chicken and ketchup," he said to himself. "Breakfast of champions. Of what, I'm not sure if I want to know."

"I still find all this very difficult to believe, son," Mr. Holland said, hanging up his phone for the third time. "The letter's official, signed by two medical doctors; I've spoken to both doctors, one of them twice, and they're both telling me the same thing... I'm not sure what to do."

"With all due respect, sir, I didn't think you would be," Tails said, rubbing his forehead with his left hand. "I wasn't even sure myself whether I should take a chance coming back to school, or just stay at home until I was sure everything was okay."

"This is a very unique, very difficult situation," Mr. Holland said, glancing at his computer screen as he thought. "I don't have forever to think about this, so this is what I'm going to do. I'm going to allow you to go to your classes as normal for the time being, and I'm going to file a report with the Board of Education. They will make the final decision. It'll take some time, so depending on your behavior during that time, you may graduate with honors, or you may not graduate from this school at all. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir," Tails said in a dull tone, nodding gravely; he was quite certain that he would not exactly be graduating with honors unless the school's policy against violence had toughenedenough to deter bullieswithin the span of five days.

"Is there a problem?" Mr. Holland asked, leaning forward in his chair.

"You have no idea," Tails said. "I heard a rumor that the guys in my grade were going to be having a little fun with me every day of the year. Literally, every day. Every day since then, I've had someone trying to beat the living crap out of me in bathrooms, in the halls, and even in class when the teachers turn their backs."

"Care to name some names?" Mr. Holland asked, bringing his hands together in front of him and leaning on his arms.

"Only name I know right now is a guy in my history class named Clyde," Tails said. "Not sure of a last name. There were three other guys in gym class too, but I can only describe them."

"Please do," Mr. Holland said. "If they're the guys I'm thinking of, they'd better be able to prove they didn't do anything, otherwise they'll have a nice long suspension coming to them. Possibly an expulsion."

"Sheesh," Tails said, amazed. "Sounds like they make a habit of this with other people too. Anyway, they were all big guys with red fur-"

"Figures," Mr. Holland cut in, hanging and shaking his head . "I knew it. Those three call their little pack the Bloodcats. The red fur might have something to do with it. They have a very long list of bullying reports, and I've suspected for two years that they tagged the restrooms after school one night." He pointed with his thumb to three filing cabinets right behind him. "In these cabinets, I keep records of students' deviant behavior. I keep major and severe violations on file until they graduate, quit, or whatever. As for minor and intermediate ones, I only keep them until the end of the year. Those three kids put together have an entire drawer to themselves."

"Wow," Tails stammered, completely at a loss for words. Several open-mouthed seconds later he added, "That's crazy..."

"So, care to tell me how they added you to their long list of casualties?" Mr. Holland asked.

"They creamed me on the football field," Tails said. "Knocked me out in the process. They covered it up by dragging me into a game of tackle football that I really preferred to stay out of. I just remember getting hit really hard in the back, and I think I hit my head when I hit the ground. I just know I woke up in the nurse's office with the worst headache I'd ever had, second only to the ones I've been having the last few days."

"I see," Mr. Holland said. "I'll look into that. In the meantime, you just remember what I told you about your own behavior, okay?"

"Yes sir," Tails said. "Do you know how long it'll take the Board to make a decision?"

"Depends on how long they spend debating," Mr. Holland said. He pulled out a pad of Post-It notes and began to write on the top one. "Take this to Mrs. Kilgore and she'll give you your excuse slip. Give her the letter too. I want each of your teachers to read it." He tore it off and handed it, along with to Tails, who took it and left the office.

"Step outside with me for just one second," Shaw told Tails upon reading the letter. He stood up and walked out of the room, still holding the letter, followed by Tails, who closed the door.

"Hard to believe, I know," the fox said.

"Tails, is this thing for real?" Shaw asked, holding up the letter. When Tails nodded, he looked at the letter, pretending to read it again while he considered what he'd just learned from it.

"I wish it were fake," Tails said. "I'd like to wake up and find out the whole thing was just one crazy dream, but..." He finished his sentence in his mind: But, wish in one hand, shit in the other, see which onefills up first...

"Well, there's really nothing we can do except for business as usual," Shaw said after several seconds. "Just let me know if someone bothers you and I'll see to it that they pay."

"Sounds good," Tails said.

"I'll give your note back at the end of class," Shaw said. "We've got a lot to cover today."

"Sounds like a load of fun," Tails said. He opened the door and headed back into the room, followed by Shaw. As he sat down, Tails felt something hit his ear, and he immediately knew what it was.

"Hey Miles, where've you been?" Clyde hissed into his ear; the sound of over half the class talking prevented Shaw from overhearing.

"Clyde, I will say this just one time," Tails growled quietly. "You'll leave me the hell alone if you know what's good for you."

"It's not my turn today," Clyde whispered, amused. "My turn's next week. You're not planning to ditch on me, are you?"

"Shut up," Tails growled, balling his hands into fists so tightly that his knuckles popped.

"Alright guys, everyone get quiet," Shaw called to the class, silencing everyone in the room. "We've got a lot to cover today, so we need to get this show on the road."

"Much better," Tails said to himself as he dried his hands on a paper towel. As he turned to exit the restroom and go to lunch, he was blocked by Clyde, who was coming in the door.

"Well well, if it isn't-" he began with a sneer, but Tails cut him off.

"Shut UP Clyde!" he snapped.

"Now that hurts, Miles," Clyde said, faking emotional turmoil. "I'll move if you apologize, how's that?"

"I'll apologize if you eat shit," Tails said, growing hot. His vision was beginning to blur for reasons he couldn't deduce.

"Wouldn't do anything you wouldn't do," Clyde said. He pretended to think for a half second before he pushed the door shut, locked it, and took a step toward Tails.

"Let me guess," Tails growled. "You'd like to make it happen."

"No, I just feel like cutting to the chase," Clyde said. He drew back his left arm and threw a very low uppercut at Tails, who was hit in the stomach. He was barely affected; he grunted loudly on impact, then he yelled loudly. He charged at Clyde and slammed into him, tackling him against the wall behind him. Clyde was surprised by the power with which Tails slammed into him, and he appeared to be stunned when he hit the wall. Tails hit Clyde in the groin with his left knee, then punched him in the side of the head with his right fist. Panting heavily, his aggressor seemingly disoriented, the fox stepped back several steps and shook his head several times, regaining himself.

It's starting, he thought. I better get out of here before I lose it again. He headed quickly for the door, but as he found out, Clyde hadn't been knocked quite as senseless as it appeared; he leapt to his feet and rammed Tails into the wall to the right of the door. Tails slammed into it face-first and groaned, truly disoriented, unlike Clyde, who had faked it and waited for a chance to strike back. He threw his right arm around Tails's neck and tightened his hold, using his left to push Tails's head forward so that he couldn't break out of the sleeper. Tails, coming back to his senses, lost it at this point. He pushed against the wall as hard as he could, then threw up his right arm and jammed his elbow into Clyde's gut. He did this twice more, and Clyde was forced to let go. Tails reached one arm around behind him and hooked it around Clyde's neck, pulling his head down. His adversary's head locked at his side, Tails mercilessly punched Clyde in the face seven times, each punch harder than the last. Finally, he released Clyde, threw his arm up, and slammed his elbow into the base of Clyde's skull, knocking him flat on the floor. Tails turned him over onto his back with one foot and looked him over. His face was banged up and his nose was bleeding profusely, and he looked only half-conscious. Tails turned to leave the bathroom, but he stopped in the middle of his turn, held back by a feeling that he wasn't quite finished yet. He reached down and grabbed the front of Clyde's shirt with his left hand, lifting his head off the floor about six inches.

"Things have changed, Clyde," the fox snarled. "You'd be doing yourself a favor by remembering that." He balled his right hand into a fist and gave Clyde one last hook in the jaw, then he straightened up, turned around, unlocked the door, and left the bathroom.

"Are you okay?" Sonic asked. School was out for the day, and as Tails had come home, Sonic had looked out his window and noticed that the fox had blood on his face. He'd met Tails outside, and had a feeling of dread as to what he was fixing to hear.

"Yeah," Tails said, his voice devoid of energy. "I just had a bit of a bad day... as usual."

"I noticed," Sonic said. "You get into a fight?"

"Yeah," Tails replied. "I got slammed into a wall and my nose broken, and I'll probably have a bruise on my stomach. Other than that, the only thing wrong with me is an aching hand and I'm tired."

"Weren't people asking about your face?" Sonic asked.

"Told them I had a nosebleed," Tails said. "Didn't say anything beyond that, so I didn't technically lie. I'll tell you one thing, though. Since I caught that bug, my body must be making its own steroids or something. I can't recall being able to hit someone as hard as I did today."

"Does anyone else know about all this?" Sonic asked. "The fight, I mean." Tails burst out laughing at this point. Slightly confused, Sonic asked, "Did I miss something or was it funny?"

"The guy I stomped today would never admit what happened," Tails said, his laughter ceasing. "He'd look like a pussy if anyone knew he got creamed by a guy half his size. No one knows who did it, and I doubt anyone will. There'll be rumors, though. There always are." Sonic nodded in agreement.

"You sure you're okay, though?" he asked.

"Yeah," Tails said. "I just need a hot shower. I feel like crap."

"Okay," Sonic said. "I'll see you later, then."

"Later," Tails said. He opened his front door and stepped inside as Sonic headed back to his apartment.

Finally got this thing updated... I spent an hour and a half typing this thing up in one night, and then all of a sudden I lose Internet access and getting it back has been like trying to putt a golf ball up a flight of stairs. Frickin' mad, man... Anyway, hope you enjoyed the fight. By my estimates, on TV it would've lasted about as long as one of the infamous elevator fight scenes in action movies... About 10 seconds. Short but sweet, I guess.