Chapter Two: A Public Affair
Lindsey woke up that Saturday morning to the sound of her cell phone ringing. She grudgingly woke up and crawled/dragged herself down to the foot of her bed, where on the floor her purse was sitting. With her upper body hanging over the bed, she dug through her purse and retrieved her phone.
"'Lo?" she answered through a yawn.
"Oh don't sound so tired," Kelsey's voice snapped from the other end, "I know it's Saturday but you should be up!"
"Why?"
"Have you not watched the news?"
"Should I?"
"Yes!" Kelsey shouted, causing Lindsey to hold the phone away from her ear, "You're on it!"
With that, Lindsey's formerly sleep heavy eyes snapped open and she rolled out of bed with the gracefulness of a cow. She landed with a thud on the floor and half yelled, "What? Why?"
"Go to a TV, smart one!"
Lindsey nodded as if Kelsey could see her and jogged out of her room and into the living room. The TV was already playing the news and sure enough, security camera footage of her in the parking lot last evening was playing.
"Oh my God," she choked out, "What…what've they said about it so far? Is there audio on that?" The last thing Lindsey needed was Mr. Houser hearing her call him a jackass.
"No, no sound. They're talking about how billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne saved a North Gotham High School student from a potential mugging last night. They've been replaying the footage over and over again. Each time talking about how stupid said teenager was for walking alone in the parking lot so late in the evening."
Lindsey sat down on the couch slowly, staring at the TV in horror, "Have they said my name yet?"
"No. You're just 'the dumb teenager.' They said something about getting a statement from Bruce Wayne over the scene."
As if on cue, the news station switched reporters to one outside of Wayne Enterprises. Sure enough, he was standing with Bruce.
"If he says my name I swear…" Lindsey trailed off. Before Bruce started talking, the TV was turned off. Lindsey looked over her shoulder to see her mother standing behind the couch looking none too pleased.
"I gotta go, Kels," she muttered into the phone before snapping it shut. She stood up to her feet, facing her mother who now had her arms folded and lips pursed into a straight line.
"I would've liked to hear about this before everyone else in Gotham, Lindsey," she said piercingly. Lindsey shrugged meekly, "I'm sorry…I just…you know, I'm ok now. Of all the times this has happened to other girls at school I wasn't expecting my time to end up on the local news."
"This has happened to other girls?" Joan asked, her pretense changing from accusatory to alarmed. Lindsey nodded slowly, "I mean, teachers would break it up but…"
Joan threw her hands up in the air in disgust and stormed into the kitchen. Lindsey decided to follow as he mother ranted, "You would think the school would have the decency to inform us about these situations! Those cameras are not enough! Think about if those other girls didn't have a teacher show up or if Bruce…oh God Lindsey."
Joan promptly pulled Lindsey into a tight embrace, "I just can't bear to think about what could've happened. I'll have to call Bruce…ooh he'd better not mention your name to that reporter or I will march over there and bury him so deep into the ground that the heat from the Earth's core will incinerate his rich, tight ass!"
Lindsey chuckled as her mother went for the phone, "Mom, are seriously calling him?"
"No. I'm calling Principle Houser. I want him to know how disgusted I am that he allowed this to go public."
Lindsey gently took the phone away and set it on the hook, "Mom, it's ok. If you call, he might confirm that I was the student. Plus, he'll get his in the ass on Monday."
Joan furrowed her brow, "What do you mean?"
"My article will be published."
Joan nodded, but took the phone back, "I still need him to know that he's disgusting."
Lindsey laughed, "Alright. Hey where are Abby and Shawn?"
"Shawn's taking Abby to her friend Chloe's birthday party."
"You know," Lindsey started thoughtfully, "Judging by where Chloe lives, she'll go to South when she gets to high school. And Abby will go to North. They'll both most likely be cheerleaders. I doubt they'll still be friends after their freshmen year."
Joan waved her off, "Lindsey, not everyone's like that."
"Angela Benedetti was best friends with this girl named Emma Lyons up until sophomore year. Emma moved to South that summer and they pretty much hate each other now."
Joan stared at her daughter, "Hmm. I knew North and South High were rivals, but I didn't think that went outside of sports."
Lindsey nodded with an amused smile. Joan held the phone to her ear for a moment before slamming it on the hook, "Straight to voicemail. That man never answers messages. Why don't I just march over to his…"
Joan was interrupted by a knock on the door. Lindsey went to answer, allowing her mother to cool off a bit before welcoming company.
Both women were thoroughly shocked to see Bruce standing in the doorway. He offered Lindsey a warm smile, "Lindsey. Did you sleep well?"
"Um," she answered cleverly, "Yeah…oh, come in." Bruce nodded and stepped inside, pausing before stepping too close to Joan.
"Joan, I should have-"
"Damn right, you should have!" Joan cut him off, "You should've called me… or Shawn…but me! At least let me know my daughter was safe after almost being kidnapped or raped! Yes, of course, Lindsey should have informed me as well, but you, Bruce! I assumed you had a greater level of responsibility than that of a teenager!"
Lindsey put a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud at the scene. Her mother was now in Bruce's face, fists clenched at her sides, the veins popping out of her neck while Bruce- a man who was at least a foot taller than the five foot three woman- stood cowering in fear, obviously not expecting the be on the direct receiving end of Joan Brooks' wrath.
Joan apparently heard the snort Lindsey tried to stifle and pointed at her, "Not funny!"
"Sorry," Lindsey apologized through laughter.
Bruce turned his attention back to the fuming woman, "Joan, did I ever stop being the little kid down the street you would pretend to babysit while you had phone sex with that Michael Carey?"
"Why do you remember his name?" Joan asked somewhat disbelieving. She would always claim to have forgotten the names of high school sweethearts. The name caught Lindsey's attention, though.
"Michael Carey? Does he have a son? A son who happens to be at the brunt of my article?" Lindsey laughed, "Is that the real reason you didn't want me to write it? You were trying to protect loverboy?"
Joan glared at her daughter, "This is not Grease. Don't ever use that term again. Now go to your room, I'm not done yelling at him."
Lindsey mock saluted, sending Bruce a wink before retreating to her room. In the light of the morning, she almost forgot about the news story.
The weekend flew by relatively fast. Lindsey attributed it to the fact that she was somewhat anxious in a nervous way for Mr. Riley to bring in the printed newspapers during fourth period on Monday.
Lindsey sat in her chair in the newsroom, sliding it around the tile floor and occasionally spinning. Another one of the writers, Rachel Jenson, finally got fed up with Lindsey's nervous behavior and pushed the chair back to her station.
"You shouldn't be sliding around," she said, "This floor has holes."
Lindsey looked up at her, "Seriously?"
Rachel nodded, "Yeah. It's not just a myth like the boogeyman. The floor wasn't quite finished before they lay the tiles down."
The feature writer, Corey Hawker, shouted to Rachel from across the room, "You should know the boogeyman exists."
"Corey, shut up. I was eight!"
"Plus seven," Corey added under his breath, but loud enough so Rachel could hear him. Before she could respond, Mr. Riley entered the room, the rolling bins of newspapers stacked high and ready.
Lindsey stayed put in her chair as the rest of the team went two to each bin. Mr. Riley offered her an encouraging smile, but she still felt the bundle of nerves. Kelsey grabbed the bin she and Lindsey pegged as theirs (it was the only purple on amongst greens and blues) and pulled Lindsey from her seat.
"Let's go!"
"Hey Lindsey!"
Lindsey stopped on the staircase and looked up at the second floor ledge to see John Carey and his best friend Nick Ramie gazing down at her- newspaper in hand.
"Don't move!"
She quirked an eyebrow and calmly walked down the rest of the stairs and pushed her way to her locker. She decided that day to live up to the senior expectations and not apologize when running into somebody.
Soon enough, John and Nick made their way up to her, standing on either side of her.
"You're a real piece of work, you know that Brooks?" John sneered down at her. Lindsey remained calm, almost amused. As nervous as she was for the school to read her story, she was most eager to see John's reaction. It was exactly as she imagined it.
Nick had taken the paper from John and was reading it out loud, "'Many students and teachers alike have observed the unusual success of the varsity football team as well as the unusually brutal performance by the team members. Blah, blah, blah… statement concludes that the use of performance enhancing drugs is prominent in our varsity football players but is being overlooked by the athletic board due to the undefeated status of the team." He looked up at John with a smirk, "Busted."
"Shut up!" John ordered Nick and looked back down at Lindsey, "You think this is funny? Coach is issuing a mandatory drug test today during seventh period. You know what this means, Brooks?"
Lindsey shrugged and nodded her head in Nick's direction, "What he said?"
John's eyes narrowed to slits as he crouched over to be more in her face, "I either take the test, get kicked off, or I don't take it and I get benched for the rest of the season. Scouts are coming, Brooks! I'm asking again, do you know what this means?"
Another female voice sounded from behind the trio, "That you're screwed? That your whole team is screwed? Yes. She knows."
Lindsey looked over her shoulder to see the school's activist Monica DuPriest smirking at Nick and John.
Saying there was bad blood between Monica and Nick and John was an understatement. In sophomore year, when Monica and Nick were on debate team, Monica gathered the team to go to the administrative offices and convince the school board to get rid of the Coke vending machines and dessert lunch lines. Nick pulled a Brutus and turned the presentation around, claiming there was nothing wrong with the lunch system and sucked up to the administrators to add even more vending machines. He won them over and Monica was so angry that she slashed Nick's tires.
With John and Monica, there was no real story of the animosity between them. They just plain didn't like each other.
John tossed one more glare in both girls' directions before storming off. Nick chuckled and handed Lindsey a folded up piece of paper.
"It's almost the end of football season, Brooks. Know what that means?" he asked excitedly, "Housapalooza five...or six…hell, let's say ten! Friday. Be there. It's pretty exclusive this year."
Lindsey laughed and shook her head as Nick flounced off. He hosted a big blowout at his house around the end of every football season, and any other time he could. He was the stereotypical party guy, inviting freshmen girls, drugging them, taking them to motels…
Overall, Nick Ramie was the one every teenage girl's parents would not want to date and every teenage boy's parents don't want them to be like.
Monica scoffed as Lindsey opened the invitation. Lindsey smiled, "Yeah. I'll be there. What is he thinking? I'll be killed!"
Monica shook her head, "You won't. They'll be too chicken shit to do anything in a neighborhood. Hey, are you coming to the rally after school?"
Lindsey blinked. It was typical of Monica to host a rally for no apparent reason, but she never got a personal invitation. Then again, she never really spoke to Monica before.
"What's it about this time?"
"Do you really think John's that stumped over what to do with the drug test?" Monica asked in a 'no shit, Sherlock' tone of voice, "He knows exactly what he's gonna do- switch them. It's pretty stupid and they'll find out anyway, but I don't want him to get away with it and have coach just cover it up for him. Mr. James would do that you know."
Lindsey held up hand to stop the other girl's ranting, "So, you're going to tell everybody that John switched tests?"
"I know it doesn't sound like much now. But when it happens, it will be killer," Monica answered deviously, "Trust me. See ya."
"She's what?" Kelsey asked as Lindsey half dragged her outside where Monica and her followers were holding their customary rally.
"Exposing John and I guess some of the rest of the team."
"You know that when this is all over we'll have an entire varsity team of second string and decent JV players?" Kelsey asked. Lindsey just nodded, "Well I mean, I knew it would cause the school to issue a drug test, but I didn't think this would get in Monica's hands like this."
"Your phone's ringing," Kelsey announced. Lindsey cursed and dug through her Canada sized purse to find her phone.
"Shawn texted me," she told Kelsey before reading the message out loud, "'Need you home now.'"
"Guess you're missing this. I'll tell you how it goes," Kelsey reassured. Lindsey thanked her and jogged around to the parking lot. Her phone rang as she got in her car.
"Hello?"
"Lindsey, where are you?" Joan asked on the other end of the line. Lindsey rolled her eyes, "I'm on my way home, Mother."
"Were you staying after for something?"
"Yeah, but it's not necessary. Really, it's not. What's going on? Shawn said I'm needed at home?"
"Yes. We'll talk about it when you get here. Bye," with that, Joan hung up. Lindsey shook her head with an eye roll. She assumed her mother and Shawn would be going away "on business" for a week or two.
As fate would have it, she was right.
"England," Joan confirmed, "Two weeks."
Lindsey stared at the two of them from her spot on one of the barstools in the kitchen. Abby was sitting on her lap.
When she received no response, Joan continued, "You can either stay here and Bruce said he'll have his butler Alfred come in the mornings and evenings or you can stay with Bruce for those two weeks. Your choice."
"Can we go with you?" Abby asked innocently. Lindsey sighed, "No Ab. They need their grown up bonding time."
"Lindsey," Joan warned. Shawn tried to reason, "We'll be staying with my family. We've a meeting in the center next door with the London branch."
"Do you want us to move to London, Shawn? Is that what this trip is really about?" Lindsey asked none too friendly. Joan shook her head with a glare. Shawn tried to fake a laugh, "Well, no. It would be nice but-"
Joan put a hand on his chest, telling him no. Lindsey scoffed, "I knew it." She set Abby on the next barstool and started for her room, but froze as she passed the living room.
"…for the drug testing resulting from an article by senior Lindsey Brooks," the anchorwoman on the news announced. Lindsey stared doe-eyed at the television set. Joan had been coming after her and had the same reaction.
"A known face in Gotham sports Michael Carey says he's devastated by the attack on his son John Carey. The student in charge of the rally, senior Monica DuPriest, claims the fault lies on John."
The screen switched to show a reporter with Monica, who was ranting as usual, "All the varsity and JV players sucked last year. Their zero to hero Hercules success was fishy, and Lindsey's article just opened peoples eyes to an unwarranted problem we've been having for a long time. Now the prodigal son thinks he can, not only get away with being a dunce and staying on the team with 'performance enhancing drugs' but victimizing an innocent student into switches piss samples with him! Wait, I'm not done-"
The original anchorwoman returned to the screen and Lindsey noticed she was standing at the front entrance of the school, "For those of you just tuning in, we're live at North Gotham High School, where the undefeated North Gotham Warriors have been exposed with a disregarded use of steroids due to an article by the school paper's editor in chief, senior Lindsey Brooks. The article spawned a mandatory drug test for the varsity football team, which prompted another student, another senior Monica DuPriest to reveal a few of the star players switching tests with other students. Only one has been called out by name, quarterback John Carey. We now tune in with his father, Michael Carey."
Ironically enough considering Joan and Bruce had spoken about the man just days before, Michael appeared on screen with another reporter.
"This is really unacceptable," Michael practically growled, "Both students- both girls- had no right. That article should never have been printed and that student should never have called out my son."
Lindsey blinked, snapping her dropped jaw shut and blinking a few more times. Did people really care so much about what went in a high school newspaper? Even if it did demolish the name of an undefeated team, Lindsey would never have guessed the Gotham news channels would turn to a story like this.
"They said your name!" Joan shouted, startling Lindsey out of her thoughts. "Sons of b-"
"Beached whales," Shawn finished for her, nodding toward Abby. Lindsey snorted. The man was too awkward.
"That doesn't matter," Joan snapped, "They had no right to call those girls out like that!"
"They called John out," Lindsey noted. Joan's glare flicked to her oldest daughter, "Because you targeted him in your article. What's next? They'll reveal you were the dumb student in the parking lot the other night?"
"Hey," Lindsey protested, "How was I supposed to know two idiots would be waiting for me? Just don't chew out Houser. He's stupid. He doesn't know what to do when the school gets any publicity."
Joan threw her hand up in the air in defeat, "Fine. You just be prepared to handle this. Unbelievable, those mother f-"
"Frankenstein," Shawn once again interrupted for the sake of virgin ears, "Scared the hell out of me as a kid."
Lindsey chuckled and turned her attention back to the TV. While she did feel accomplished in having brought the controversy of the team to attention, she wasn't exactly comfortable with the publicity the story was gaining.
Like a real reporter, Lindsey Brooks had just pissed off a shit load of people.
Well...so sorry if you're just rereading the whole story, but for those of you who have read the later chapters before they were deleted, I'd still appreciate reviews. That goes for all readers. Even if you just want to say "Hi" or "You suck." I'll either say hello back or throw an annoying object at you (aka my brother).