PART 1B ONE: Living Right

Elle

In order to truly live, you have to live correctly. There is a right way to live. It doesn't have anything to do with morals or the black-and-white that everyone seems to view the world as. The right way to live is to do what you believe is correct.

Stand up to others. Stand up for what you believe in. Yes, this includes doing things and saying things that others might not agree with. It might land you in jail, or dead. But to live right, you need to live by your own rules, not by anyone else's. Otherwise, you're living their lives, and giving up yours.

Live the way you want to, the way that you believe; that is the correct way to live. If you believe, for instance, that guns are an acceptable way to get rid of crime – and I'm not just thinking about Jason – then I say go for it. If you follow everyone else's rules, then you're not being true to yourself. That's just as bad as being a sheep. A mindless, stupid sheep.

No one wants to be a sheep. Everyone wants to be their own wolf or lion. The only way you can do that is to take off the sheep's skin and reveal who you are to everyone else, regardless of the consequences. Don't pretend to be a sheep. Proudly display your different attributes that makes you unique. Be you. Live right.

That's one piece of advice I'm not too good at taking, myself.

Monday, August 31

The alarm on my phone woke me up at five. I did my push-ups and sit-ups, went for a run, then showered and changed into my school uniform. Because the school day started at eight, there was no set breakfast in the morning anymore, as Alfred had told me the day before. So at seven o' clock, I grabbed a piece of toast and then waited nervously in the foyer for Tim to be ready to go. Alfred drove us to the school.

I looked at the students from the car. I tugged nervously on my skirt and straightened my hair with my fingers. I didn't fit in at all. I was ashamed to admit that I was very nervous to go to class. Tim showed me to the main office, where I got my schedule: history, geometry, English, gym, lunch, chemistry, study hall, art.

Because I was a junior and Tim was a senior, the only classes we had together were study hall and art. We also had lunch together. Tim showed me to my first class, but then left.

No one talked to me in history or geometry. I got along with my English teacher, but some of the other students said that I was sucking up to her.

Gym was the worst. I hadn't known that I needed to bring a change of clothes, so I was stuck running around and forced to play soccer in my uniform. A few kids – the same ones from my English class – purposely pushed me to the ground once. They teased me and made fun of me. It hurt, but I ignored them. I was the new kid. It was perfectly normal to be teased. They'd get over it.

I was very happy when lunch came around. I grabbed a hot lunch tray and stood in the middle of the cafeteria, looking for Tim. At least I'd have someone to sit with. I finally found him sitting with who I assumed were his friends. I bit my lip nervously, not ready to talk to anyone besides Tim, but I could potentially make friends. I headed towards them, but some girl from another table stuck her foot out and tripped me. I spilled my lunch all over the floor and my uniform. Embarrassed and near tears, I ran off, trying to find a bathroom. I couldn't, and ended up wandering the hallways.

Near the end of the lunch block, Tim found me.

"That wasn't okay, what she did," he said, frowning.

I shrugged. "I'm the new kid. It's fine."

Tim sighed. "You sure?"

I faked a smile. "Yeah."

We headed to study hall, where I sat with Tim. We got permission to go to the library, so it would be quieter. We did our homework. He finished before I did and went to talk to one of his friends. Of course, as soon as he left, I started having difficulty. But I didn't want to interrupt him. And besides, I needed to learn to be more independent. I couldn't rely on Tim to get me through school. So I faked my way through my math and science, heart sinking as I realized that I had no clue what I was doing.

When I was done, I sat at the table alone. I watched as groups or pairs of friends worked together or laughed together or just enjoyed the quiet. One girl caught me staring at her and grinned. She waved me over, but I shook my head, looking down at my lap. She must not have cared too much about the new kid because she never approached me.

I knew that I could have just lost an opportunity to make a friend, but I was too shy. Besides, school was supposed to be for learning. And I didn't need friends. I had Jason, Dick, Tim, Alfred, and Bruce. And myself. That was all I needed.

My last class was art, which I dreaded. I was horrible at drawing and painting. I preferred writing poems. I sat next to a random kid in the back. Tim sat with his friends in the front. The student beside me was an amazing drawer. My attempt at drawing a bird looked more like a five-year-old's scribbles.

At long last, it was three o' clock. Alfred picked us up and drove us back to the manor. He told us that a social worker was there to make sure it was a safe place for me, or something like that. Sure enough, when we entered the building, the social worker was just finishing up her home visit.

She pulled Tim aside and asked him questions. I couldn't hear what they said, but I assumed it had something to do with living here and about me getting adopted. I was surprised when the social worker headed over to me, next. We sat, alone, in the living room.

"What do you think about living here?" the social worker asked me.

I shrugged, grinning to the best of my ability. I did just have a bad day at school. Not to mention, I still had food stains on my uniform.

"I love it," I said honestly. "Everything is amazing."

"What do you think about Bruce?"

"He's great," I said. I had to be very careful when talking to this woman. She could very easily take me away from here, something that I definitely didn't want. "He really cares about me."

"And Tim?"

"Bruce cares about him just as much as he cares about me," I said firmly. "And Tim cares about me, too. We get along nicely."

The social worker must have been satisfied with my answers because she stood up, shook my hand, said goodbye to Bruce, then left. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. Talk about pressure. I hoped I hadn't said anything wrong.

Bruce eyed my stained uniform. I blushed and crossed my arms in an attempt to cover up most of it. "What happened?" he asked gruffly.

"Nothing," I responded. "I just dropped my lunch."

Tim rolled his eyes. "Not true," he said, ignoring my pleading gaze not to tell. "The kids at school aren't exactly welcoming to her."

"I'm the new kid," I reminded him flippantly. "It was bound to happen. I don't care."

"I'll go call the school," Bruce said.

I shook my head wildly. "Please don't!" I begged. "It'll just make things worse. And I don't want any special treatment just because I'm being adopted by Bruce Wayne."

Bruce studied me for a moment. Finally, he said, "Fine. But if the problem persists, I will notify the principal."

I nodded and then hurried to my room. I changed into my own clothes and grabbed my laptop. I was just about to watch cartoons when I received a text message.

DICK: How was school?

I was surprised that he cared. It was just school. Nothing special. But sometimes I forgot that as fun-loving as Dick could be, he was also very caring and concerned about anything involving his family. And I guess he considered me family.

ELLE: Meh.

DICK: That bad?

ELLE: It's fine.

DICK: What happened?

ELLE: Nothing.

DICK: You expect me to believe that?

ELLE: I can handle it.

DICK: Kids are mean…

ELLE: How'd you know?

DICK: 'can' implies it will happen again. I guessed bullying. You just confirmed it.

ELLE: Curse you and your cop/detective skills.

DICK: Do you need me to help you out?

ELLE: No.

DICK: Tim's helping you, I hope.

ELLE: Yes.

Not really, but I couldn't expect Tim to watch my back all the time at school. We had different classes, not to mention, he had friends that he never spent time with outside of school. He shouldn't have to spend all of the school day with his somewhat-younger soon-to-be-adopted sister.

That reminded me …

ELLE: How old is Tim, anyway? You?

DICK: Lol.

ELLE: It's not funny.

DICK: You spend three months living with Bruce and you just now ask our ages. ROFL.

ELLE: I never thought to ask. I can guess, but I'm probably wrong.

DICK: How old do you think I am?

ELLE: Not saying. Watch me be way off and you laugh at my stupidity.

DICK: Would I do that? :(

ELLE: Yes.

DICK: I'm 24.

ELLE: Older than I thought.

I smirked as I sent the message. I received one only moments later. I laughed.

DICK: Hey! I'm not that old!

DICK: Tim's 17.

ELLE: And Jason?

DICK: 20

ELLE: Wait, if Tim is 17, then how come he's a senior? I'm 17 and a junior!

DICK: He's smarter than you. ;)

ELLE: Oh. Yeah. Duh.

DICK: Hey, I was teasing!

ELLE: But it's true. I'm not stupid, but I'm not as smart as Tim. Makes sense now.

DICK: I feel bad now.

ELLE: Not my problem.

Dick never answered. Bored but no longer wanting to watch cartoons, I took a chance and texted Jason.

ELLE: What's up, Red?

Jason didn't reply. Tired of waiting, I downloaded music onto my iPod and listened to music while I read one of my new books. Dinner was at the normal time. Tim and Bruce talked about his day at school. I stayed quiet. I helped Alfred clean up afterwards, even though he tried to persuade me not to. Afterwards, I returned to my room and read some more.

I was about to fall asleep when my phone beeped, indicating a text.

JASON: I have a day job, you know.

I grinned.

ELLE: Really? Never seen you do it.

JASON: I don't need people on my ass at work as well as at night.

ELLE: I gotcha.

JASON: What'd you want?

ELLE: Dunno. Talk?

JASON: Waste of time, if you ask me.

ELLE: I didn't ask you, so it's okay.

JASON: Shouldn't you be studying?

ELLE: Did HW at school. I should be sleeping.

JASON: Then sleep.

ELLE: You woke me up.

JASON: Go back to sleep, then.

ELLE: Hey, about you teaching me to fight … when are we going to meet up now that I have school?

JASON: Skip.

ELLE: No.

JASON: Weekends.

ELLE: That's not enough. I want to get better at fighting ASAP.

JASON: After school, then. Not that hard to figure out.

ELLE: What days do you work?

JASON: Whenever I want.

ELLE: That just proves that you either don't have a job, or you're doing illegal things.

JASON: Thanks for the confidence.

ELLE: Welcome! :D

JASON: I'm free tomorrow. I'll pick you up from the library.

ELLE: 'Kay.

JASON: Now go to sleep.

ELLE: 'Night.

I lied in bed, smiling. Just because I wasn't confident in myself at school didn't mean I had to be like that all the time. My smile faded. I wasn't looking forward to school. Not at all.