"I can't believe that my baby boy's going to high school!" Debbie smiled at her young son and pushed her long, red hair back. She stared at him with wonder, his shoulder-length dark brown hair, his gleaming light blue eyes, but those glasses that they were hiding behind. On him, it looked like he was hiding a secret, as if he were hiding behind them pretending to be someone he's not. He was fairly short for his age, but so was she, in fact, the height was the only trait that he and his mother shared. She was fairly short, but, she had bright red hair, very dark green eyes, and didn't have to wear glasses.

Her son looked like a real high school boy, with the black T-shirt that said "For a second I actually thought you said something interesting" and worn out jeans. "I'm going to be all right Mom," John replied, smiling at Debbie.

"I know you are," Debbie replied, "but it seems like yesterday when you were running around in that red cape announcing that you were Captain . . . "

"Mom . . . "

"Sorry sweetie. But it seems like you were just a little kid a week ago."

"I know Mom. But, I'm a grown kid, I need to make it on my own. I'm gonna be okay."

"Sorry I worry so much. It's just that . . . "

"Mom, what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Then why are you crying?"

"Oh, I'm just happy for you that's all." John smiled at his mom and hugged her. Debbie smiled and parted from her son. "You'll be late for your first day of high school," she said.

John smiled at his mom and said, "I don't want that to happen." He quickly grabbed his backpack from the table and raced for the door. "Bye Mom!" John announced.

"Bye Johnny!" Debbie yelled. As the door shut, Debbie went to go sit at the coffee table. As she sipped her coffee, she thought about her son trying to live in Gotham. Then, she thought of how brave he was, just like his father. His father . . . she cried softly during the thought of his father.

John walked to his school, skipping and humming "Zippity Do Da". He smiled as he looked up to his school. "High school here I come," John said to himself, thinking happy thoughts about high school. But when he entered the school building, happiness was the farthest thing from his mind.

Everything seemed so...different. Everyone looked tougher and stronger than in Chicago, and Chicago was a tough city for John. He saw a Gothic couple passing by him holding hands. He saw a jock push two freshman nerds to the dirty floor. He even heard someone threaten to shoot someone! One thing was clear to John . . . this was not Chicago.

Suddenly, he was pushed down to the cold, dirty tile floor. "Sorry dude!" John heard someone say. He quickly grabbed onto somebody's hand and got up. "Sorry about that," the boy who pushed John down said.

"It's okay," John replied. There was something about that boy. He had fairly short light brown hair with blonde highlights, dazzling dark brown eyes, and a red T-shirt that said "Just Say No" and a pair of jeans that looked like he just bought at the mall about five minutes ago. There was something about him, it made him look like he was twenty, not fourteen. Maybe because of his height, his face, his mature attitude, John couldn't point it out.

The boy held out his hand to John. "I'm Dylan Anne."

"Jonathan Craine," John said, shaking Dylan's hand.

"You're new here, aren't you?"

"Yeah. How did you know?"

"You had the new kid look. And, also, you had the look of surprise of how much goes on in this school."

"Yeah. It does freak me out."

"I know. But, hey, Gotham's that way. So, where did you move here from?"

"Chicago."

"Ah, Chicago. Very nice place."

"Do you think I'll be able to make Gotham?"

"It may take some time, but I bet you can make it."

"Thanks." John and Dylan talked for quite a while, walking to their locker. Dylan was talking about how he thought high school would be when, all of a sudden, John was trying to open his locker, but after about a minute of failure, started to kick it.

"Trouble opening your locker?" Dylan asked.

"Could you help me get this (grr) stupid thing to open!" Dylan smiled and turned the dial of the combination. He kept on turning the dial until it finally opened. John stared at Dylan in surprise. "You had the combination wrong," Dylan said. "It's eight at the end, not seven."

"How do you know?" John asked.

"Well, it is my locker, locker buddy." Dylan smiled and pushed his backpack into the locker.

John and Dylan sat next to each other in the actually clean lunch room. Dylan stared at this weird thing, it looked like gray goo, at his lunch tray. "So, why did you move from Chicago to Gotham?" Dylan asked John.

"My mom got a great job offering here," John said, sticking his fork in the goo.

"What does she do?"

"She's a journalist."

"Really? There's a lot of stuff to write about in Gotham. What about your dad?" John looked up at Dylan. "He was a cop," John replied.

"Is he unemployed now?"

"You could say that." Dylan all of a sudden waved his hand high. A girl sat down across from the two. "John," Dylan said, "this is my twin sister, Jenny. Jenny, this is my friend, John." Jenny smiled and shook John's hand. Oh, she was so beautiful. Her long, light brown hair, her dazzling dark brown eyes, and that smile, her smile was so beautiful.

"Nice to meet you, John," Jenny said.

"Nice to meet you too," John replied.

"When Dylan said I'm his twin sister, he meant his older twin sister."

"Yeah," Dylan replied, "by four minutes!"

"And that's four minutes more mature than you." John looked down at his plate, slowly dipped his fork into the gray goo, and tried to put it up to his mouth. Suddenly, Jenny's hand reached out to John's hand and slowly put his hand down back to his tray. "You don't want to eat that," she said.

"Why not?" John asked. "The school food in Chicago was great!"

"But this isn't Chicago," Dylan said. "One bite of that and you'll have to go straight to the hospital." John shrugged and put the fork with goo back into his mouth. Automatically, he gagged and coughed until finally he grabbed his soda and gulped it down.

"Well?" Dylan asked.

"I think I'd rather fall off a cliff than eat this cooking," John said, still gagging a little big. Jenny smiled at John. "Don't worry," she said, "the stinging will wear off in a few minutes."

"What sting-AHHH! The stinging just came!"

Debbie sat at the coffee table staring at the legal pad in front of her. What to write . . . suddenly, she heard the door open and close. "Mom!" Debbie heard John announce. "I'm home!"

"I'm in the kitchen!" Debbie called back. She saw her son come into the kitchen and smile at her.

"How was school?" Debbie asked.

"It was awesome!" John replied. "I even made a couple of friends."

"Oh. Who are they?"

"Their names are Dylan and Jenny Anne. They're great. Everything was great! Except for the school lunch. THAT was disgusting!"

"Well, I'm certainly glad you had a good day."

"Me too. Hey, I'm going to change out of my clothes, okay?"

"Okay." John went upstairs to his room. As he closed the door behind him, he saw a picture of his father and John as a five-year-old on his back. "Hi Dad," John said to the picture. He picked it up, put it face down on the counter, and had tears dripping down his face.