Chapter 3: Duties and Authorities

By: SavSilvy

Taking energy drinks like water and drinking four liters of water to drown it out a day, is never a good idea. The unhealthy habit of overdrinking takes a toll on one's body, and it does it fast. Tom was starting to notice the signs of Alex's bad habits catching up to him. He was sure Alex had noticed it too.

It reflected in the embarrassing number of bathroom breaks Alex took in a day. Every period, he had ended up excusing himself two to three times. The amount of time he wasted in the toilet almost justifying the military-like 4 am-8 pm remedial class schedule he was forced to comply with.

Tom had done his research and knew that caffeine was a diuretic. After doing extra googling on what exactly a diuretic was, he eventually figured out that taking a little more caffeine than necessary eventually leads to more toilet breaks, putting the number of liters of water he drank on top of it, Tom realized he wouldn't be surprised at that rate of Alex ended up peeing himself. The class had noticed it too. Two to three toilet breaks every one-hour class is disruptive in the most polite words, meme-worthy in the words used by many of their classmates as the snickers got louder and louder every time Alex left the room to go to the toilet.

Ross was only about to start his lesson when Alex excused himself to go to the toilet. As soon as he closed the door behind him, the students exploded in laughter.

"What's so funny about your classmate running to the restroom?" Ross asked, genuinely confused at the sense of humor of his students.

The class went silent.

"Maybe 'cause drug tests are coming up?" One brave student suggested as he cocked his head innocently.

A few students snickered at the remark. "Will we be having drug tests, sir?" Another asked.

A minute more of prodding and Ross eventually found himself learning about the druggy reputation of one Alex Rider from some mouthy teenagers. By the time Alex had come back from the toilet looking almost self-conscious and nervous at the stares and the snickers that followed him back to his seat, Ross had caught up to the jokes of class and was also trying to stifle a laugh.

By the amount of information the students gave Ross about the drug rumors, he could tell that they were expecting him to stage some sort of intervention. Ross found himself doing some research on drug laws and drug tests in the school over his next free period. He was not particularly concerned nor did he feel the actual need to stage an intervention. Sure, drugs are bad and they do ruin lives. but he did not think that anyone would have the physical abilities and the mental capacity to take down a large billion-dollar criminal organization under the influence of drugs. Either Alex was on some new magical drugs that could revolutionize the whole black market and the pharmaceutical industry, or Alex has just given more fuel to the natural inclination of high school students to be judgmental assholes.

Ross had a fair amount of experience with teenagers and decided that it was the latter.

Either way, he had to put up this air of concern to make the teacher charade a little more convincing. Although he could not convince a group of people completely blasé with the black market and criminal activities that drug use among teenagers was a pressing concern, he was able to convince them that looking like they care enough would not set off any alarms on their lack of concern for the wellbeing of students.

The case was urgent enough that he did manage to gather the teachers to his side of the faculty room for a game of the classic "pick the shortest straw and get the shitty job nobody wants."

Ross had done the math and assumed that the odds of picking the shortest straw were way too low but as he stared at the straw he ended up picking out, comparing it to the lengths of the straws of his comrades, he eventually decided that the job should not be given to someone at random and should be decided by merit. "Jet, shouldn't drugs be your thing. I mean given your background, you might do a better job than I would." He asked, trying to sound a little more professional than he was.

Jet shook his head. "Why don't you do it, Gordon? "You can show him just how much they fuck up your life. You're a walking anti-drug billboard with your shit history. At least, my history wouldn't get me a life sentence one day."

"Yeah, but he hates me." Gordon shrugged almost pathetically; he was just tired of the kid's shit and the last thing he wanted to do was play a good concerned teacher for a day.

"He hates all of us, besides I heard him telling that Tom kid that he likes your class the best."

"That was before I banned him from touching anything flammable/sharp."

"You're supposed to be teaching him. Aren't chem classes made of flammable and sharp things? You take those out, you take away the whole chemistry experience."

"Yeah, until he made napalm in class just to fuck with me and it was a bitch to clean up. I was so tempted to just let the napalm burn the lab down and blame Alex. Nobody would be too surprised, I mean he's already burned the lab down once before?"

"He did?"

"Yeah, the first one wasn't even a year ago. Set the whole fucking thing on fire."

"It was a lab accident."

"Exactly. When accidents happen around Alex Rider they tend to come with casualties and I'm not dealing with that paperwork so no explosives for him. He's proficient enough on his own. He could probably teach me a few things."

"He's not that bad, he's just a kid."

"Oh really? Did you forget that the whole reason we're here is that he burned down Malagosto?"

"Yeah, and who do you think taught him that?"

"Oh, fuck off, Jet, the kid was lethal before he got to me."

"He's 14."

"He's a hellion."

"No wonder you two get along. Maybe he's your long-lost son - likes explosions, does drugs, stubborn, absent father…don't know why a woman would want to sleep with you but stranger things have happened…"

Ross took a knife out of his pocket and slammed it, blade first onto his wooden table. The sound of blade ripping wood was enough to shut Jet up before Ross got pissed enough to stab her instead.

Ross narrowed his eyes at Jet, "Look, Jet, just take the fucking druggie intervention job. Just talk to him. Make it look like we care or something then we can stop arguing Alex's capacities and our closeness with him." He said with a low voice.

"For the last time no knives in the teacher's lounge!"

In the end, Ross was still left with the responsibility of staging an intervention fueled by fake concern. Jet and the others were only willing to back Ross up on his bringing out a knife and overlook it if he agreed to be the one to talk to Alex.

Ross waited for Alex in the classroom, sitting on one of the chairs towards the front. Tom was waiting in the room too, towards the back end of the classroom. Usually, Ross wouldn't have allowed Tom to bury himself in gadgets in school but he realized it was better than having him overhearing the talk. Also, having Tom there was the only way he managed to convince Alex to take time out of his busy remedial schedule to cooperate with his drug intervention.

"I thought you'd give up by now," Alex said as he wiped his wet hands on his pants.

"You average 4-5 toilet breaks a period. Waiting while you take a ten-minute bathroom break is not beyond me." Ross commented. "Next time take the toilet on our floor. It will save you 5 extra minutes."

"I did. I just realized I needed to go to the toilet again when I was on my way back here."

"There are no surprise drug tests Alex. You don't need to pee everything out of your system." Ross smirked.

"So, you joined the "Alex is a druggie" bandwagon huh?"

Ross feigned innocent surprise. "No Alex, I'm concerned. Drugs shouldn't be the answer to your problems."

"To make things clear, I don't have a drug habit. My classmates just think I have one because they saw me chase after the car of a drug dealer once and because I'm never in class."

Ross sighed. "Look, I've done my fair share of drugs and in any other situation, I wouldn't give a rat's ass. As your teacher though, I have to look like I'm doing something so I'm gonna have to mandate a weekly session with Dr. Steiner to help you get back up on your feet.

"But I just told you, I don't have a drug problem."

"Drinking problem… Drug problem… same family of vices, Alex. They just kinda muddle together after you've fucked up your life enough times. Just cooperate with the damn sessions." Ross took note of the reminder on the palm of his hand.

"So… Is that it?" Alex asked as he went for his bag on the seat next to him.

"Yeah, pretty much. Also, you could have saved us 15 minutes if you didn't have to take too many toilet breaks. So, I guess, work on that?"

"So, is it weird having a class with your Dad?" Tom asked as soon as Alex came back from his third bathroom break of the hour.

"Tom, you know my Dad is dead."

Tom raised one eyebrow in disbelief. "No, I don't know. MI6 told you your parents died but they also told you Ian died in a car crash and look where you are now."

Alex stopped walking and turned to Tom. He couldn't argue that. "Alright and who exactly is my Dad?"

"Mr. Ross." Alex really shouldn't have taken a drink of his Monster. The wasted caffeine alone was painful. He could usually just zone out when listening to Tom's conspiracy theory of the day but the drinking habit had made it difficult to do just that lately.

"And who did you hear that from?"

"Half the school. Dr. Three even said your blood types match up. Alex was going to kill him. Ross might even help. But people might mistake it for some father-son bonding time. He could handle it on his own.

"Our classmates come up with the most ridiculous rumors Tom. Druggie? Drinking fine, maybe I do have a problem? But Drugs? Tom, I wouldn't do something which could get me a death sentence in at least fifty countries. There are only 8 blood types to pick from Tom, of course, I'd have the same blood type with at least a billion people."

"But you're always talking, you're similar… personality-wise."

"We don't even look alike!"

"What if you look like your mom?

"Does this face look like it could be anything similar to Ross. At all?" Alex dug his pointer finger straight into his chin and stifled a wince as he did.

"Yeah but you both like explosions!"

"Explosions are not a basis of paternity!"

"Whatever you say. Just let me know when you go in for the name change. We can have a party. Get some "it's a boy" balloon, cross "boy" out and put "match" instead." Tom put his hands up as if he were some holding some fake banner. "Congratulations Alex, it's a match! Your father was alive! I bet I could even invite the whole class."

"And they'd go?"

"Yeah dude, I've seen shit on this all over our Discord server."

"What discord?"

"Oh...uh...nevermind. Look at the time, got to get to French class." Tom said, turning towards the exit.

"Wow, French class? Outside among nature? At the end of the day? Tell me about that." Alex said as he looped his arm around Tom's.

"Remedial lessons. You know all about those..." Tom started as he slowly tried to slip his arm away from Alex's loose grip. He had known Alex long enough to tell then and there that Alex could tighten his grip and maybe even kill him any minute, maybe even both at the same time.

"Alex!" A familiar voice called out from the end of the hall.

Saved by the Ross. "Hey, Mr. Ross. Alex is over here." Tom shot him a smirk "Looks like Daddy wants you." He whispered as Ross looked towards both of them.

Alex subtly positioned his legs on the back of Tom's knee. "Yeah, keep pushing the daddy thing and you'll find yourself face down on the floor with a broken knee cap."

"Alex!" Ross snapped. He was walking towards them and Alex and Tom were in plain sight.

Tom knew then and there that Alex was powerless. "Better go before you get grounded," Tom whispered mockingly. It wasn't every day he had the upper hand. Tom went for the win.

"Mark my words, Harris, you'll regret this."