Greetings, my fine friends! Here's the next chapter; and then, the action starts...
Chapter Two: Gray
The usual Cram-Tastic Mark VIII sessions in English were boring to no end. Teaching had become far different since using these subliminal-learning machines was proven to raise grades. All the teachers had to do was explain the basic synopsis of the lesson, then the machines took the wheel. However, to Jake and Ellie's utter dismay, Cram-Tastic sessions were hard on the mind; they were as boring as heck.
Finally, after what seemed like eighty-seven hours later, the class ended. Jake, Ellie, and Dave staggered out into the halls, Tolstoy's War and Peace burned into the backs of their skulls. In her state of semi-consciousness, the girl bumped into another person, both sets of schoolbooks flying to the floor.
"Hey! Watch it!" yelled a girl's voice.
Ellie snapped out of her stupor to face a girl about her age. Dark, curly hair cascaded over her shoulders, ending below the shoulder blades. She wore a snappy ensemble that matched her teal-green eyes perfectly. An expression of utter scorn was on her face.
"Sorry Gina," said Ellie as she picked up her books.
Gina tapped her foot impatiently. "Well?"
"What is it?" asked Ellie. She was not in the mood for this.
"It's your fault that my books are on the floor; you should pick them up!"
"Why?" asked Dave. "It wasn't her fault!"
"She ran right into me!"
Jack frowned. This was all-too-typical behavior. Gina Gray was widely regarded as the most popular person in Casper High. And for an almost deserving reason; not because of money or prestige. Gina's mother, Valerie, was the Commissioner of the Amity Park Police Department, the youngest ever to hold the title and the first woman. Also, Valerie was being nominated for the FBI's criminal research division, even though her speciality was in firearm combat.
This "hero-child" status gave Gina massive influence over the younger students, who practically worshiped the Commissioner. This was cemented at that moment by the appearance of her entourage: Sue, Peggy, and Alicia. All were basically extensions of their leader's will; as Chrissy had once put it: 'satellites.'
Ellie got up, putting her books into her pack. As she started for the exit, Peggy blocked her.
"You're not going anywhere," said the girl menacingly. "Not until you pick up those papers."
At that point, Ellen Cynthia Fenton ceased all rational thought. Dropping her own books, she squatted down in a fighting stance and knuckled the taller girl right across the solar plexus.
Peggy lurched over, grabbing her stomach and crying in agony. Gina looked shocked and appalled; this was not ladylike behavior.
Jake grabbed his sister by the shoulders before she could do any further damage. "Take it easy," he said. "You already got in trouble for that once. At least this time there weren't any–"
"MISS FENTON!" came a deep voice from down the hall.
"–teachers..." groaned Jake.
A compact, muscular man in wire-framed glasses and semi-casual wear loomed over the group of teens. His face looked as though it were hewn out of granite, hard and stern.
"What did you think you were doing?" asked the man.
"But–Mr. Wilkinson," stammered Ellie, "They–"
"Did nothing out of place," finished Wilkinson. "I'll see you in detention tomorrow afternoon. No excuses." And with that, he stormed off to parts unknown.
Ellie, Jake, and Dave looked at Gina and her group; all four had expressions of utter triumph on their faces.
"This isn't over," growled Ellie.
Gina grinned. "It is for you."
As the popular girls strutted away, Ellie didn't bother containing her growl. This was how the school justice system worked: the popular teens getting away with everything, leaving others to take the blame. Their parents had never blamed them for being angry, saying that this very same thing happened to them all too often in their teenage years. Both Jake and Ellie highly doubted that; no adult they knew could remember that far back with perfect clarity.
Jake looked at his watch. The LED read 4:37.
"We gotta get there soon!" he exclaimed, remembering the promise he had made to Dad.
Ellie snapped out of her sulking and ran down the halls with the two boys. Exploding out the quad doors, they found Chrissy sitting on the steps outside. She was twirling a dollar-coin between her dainty fingers, something she was quite good at.
Seeing the three, she spoke. "Hey guys! We goin?"
They answered by taking out their collapsed hover-scooters and transforming them for flight.
"Gotcha." She followed suit. Taking off into the traffic, they made impressive time, reaching the HQ with minutes to spare.
It was an immense building that seemed to stretch into the heavens, the Fentonworks insignia emblazoned on the roof. A landing platform on the top floor accommodated their needs perfectly, providing benches to sit on as they waited for their host. They breathed in the fresh air; oxygen scrubbers in the bowels of the city reduced pollution by immense amounts.
Then, out of an access elevator, Danny Fenton rode out in his hover-chair, dressed in his standard navy-blue Armani suit. He was a thin man of thirty-nine with gentle, yet cunning features. His long black hair was tied up in a ponytail that stretched halfway down his back and off the top of his seat.
The chair itself was one of Fentonwork's finest accomplishments: specifically created for the aid of paraplegics, it was totally hands-free, controlled by a neural interface that hooked into the spine. A harness around the waist helped to steady the user, should the abdominal muscles be paralyzed as well.
In their father's case, only the interface was used. He floated over to the four teens, kindness radiating from his bright-blue eyes.
"So how are you all doing?" he asked in his deep, resonant voice.
"We're fine, Dad," replied Jake. "So why are we here?"
"I'm glad you asked. Come with me, you four." He floated back into the elevator, beckoning the teens to come with him.
"So," said Dave to Ellie, "you going to tell him about the fight?"
"No," shot back Ellie. "It's better if he doesn't know."
"If I don't know what?"
She turned to see her father staring up at them with interest.
"Oh, nothing," she said innocently as the elevator sped downwards...
I really hope that you are all enjoying my work. Please review if you are!
Your sincerest regards,
Monsieur Caracal.