Hey, it's a new chapter! Trip's first day of school...again.
- o – o -
Chapter five: Familiar Faces
His mother wasn't speaking to him.
That wasn't exactly surprising, considering what he'd done. Trip still couldn't believe he'd deviated so thoroughly from the plan he and Liz had hammered out almost a week ago. Still, she'd laughed for a good ten minutes after hearing his side of the story. His father, in his guise as the Cape, hadn't been so amused. (Nevertheless, and Trip wasn't sure on this, he would have sworn he'd seen the Cape's lips twitch up in a smile as he heard the story.)
The nine-year-old sighed and double-checked to make sure he'd packed everything into his backpack, including an extra pair of socks. He was lucky that his mother never bothered to check his backpack, or he'd never had made it out of the apartment. Not without a good talking-to, anyways. (Alright, so he was a little paranoid. Did that mean he had to leave behind the sap his dad had used on patrol, way back when?)
His mother still wasn't speaking to him. Trip sighed and poured himself a cup of coffee. Not so much as a twitch from her. The nine-year-old felt a little guilty about the events of the night before, if only because he'd hurt her.
"Morning mom," Trip said, smiling cheerfully. She looked at him once, before returning her attention to the Herald. "So, do you know who my teacher is yet?" he asked, trying to break the awkward silence. He already knew it was Mrs. Debolt, but the silence was killing him.
"Her name is Mrs. Debolt," Dana replied, taking a bite of her toast. She checked her watch and swore under her breath. "And you are going to be late if we don't leave now!" Trip grabbed his lunch and backpack and hurried after his mother, making sure to slam the apartment door so it locked.
Fifteen minutes later, his mother was waving goodbye and heading for a job interview. If Trip had been any other child, he would have been unhappy and begun bawling over the perceived abandonment. As it was, he wasn't a normal child. His only fear was that she'd fall in love with Hall all over again.
With that cheerful thought, he headed for Debolt's room, barely listening to the office secretary who was trying to make small-talk with him.
The introduction was just as awkward as it had been. When Trip sat down, though, he opened the desk and looked inside. As his classmates started laughing, Trip just looked at them, an evil smirk in place. (Ruvi had been good for something. Who knew?) They shut up immediately.
This day was going to be pretty good, Trip decided as he stood for the pledge of allegiance. And maybe, just maybe, he could avoid the temptation to beat Ryan Harrison's face into the cement again…
- o – o -
Math was just as dull as Trip remembered it being. He sighed and resisted the urge to turn his sheet of problems into an airplane. The world outside looked so tempting…and he was stuck inside. It had to be criminal to put kids inside on a day like this. He sighed and filled out a few more problems, not really looking at the answers he was writing down. He could get his GED in a heartbeat if he wanted to… Well, aside from the age thing, but that wasn't the point.
The former vigilante groaned and rested his forehead on the desk. It was going to be forever to recess, and he really wanted to see what the limits of his nine-year-old body were. He'd managed a few backbends without too much trouble, but it was nothing spectacular.
That plan was put on the backburner as soon as the door to the classroom opened. Trip, like the twenty-five other students, looked up expectantly. All of them were grateful for the distraction from a boring round of math classes. The principal was standing in the door, and was speaking quietly with Mrs. Debolt, who looked annoyed.
Trip saw who was standing behind him and didn't know if he should feel elated…or terrified.
Somehow, Elizabeth Raoul had made it into the public school system. The former vigilante sighed as she made her way through the rows of desks to sit next to him. If not for the massive black hoodie she was wearing, people would have been staring openly at her. As it was, Trip had to wonder what she was doing there at all. How had she convinced her father to let her leave that house?
"Class, we have another new student," Mrs. Debolt announced, coming to stand next to Elizabeth. "This is Elizabeth. It's her first time in a public school, so I'd like you to be nice to her." She smiled at Liz, and Trip was fairly sure she'd smiled back. Debolt knelt down so she was eye-level with the smuggler's daughter.
"Sweetie, could you take your jacket off? Or at least pull your hood down?" Mrs. Debolt asked kindly. Trip buried his face in his hands as Liz complied. The stunned gasps told him everything he needed to know; a quick peek told him that one of the other girls had fainted. Liz had a look of smug satisfaction on her face as she pulled her hood back up to hide her face.
This could not end well.
- o – o -
An hour later, Trip's fear was proven correct. It hadn't ended well. He looked over at Liz, who was disturbingly calm about everything. She was buffing her nails on her jacket; only the fact that she was kicking her feet against the linoleum betrayed the fact that she was just as nervous as he was.
Almost an hour ago, they'd been on the playground, doing the usual stupid kid things. (Trip was surprised to learn that Liz actually knew how to act like a kid; he'd always been under the impression that she'd sprouted into a fully-matured smuggler shortly after birth and had never been a child.) Somehow, they'd gotten into an argument which had ended with Liz holding him in a headlock as she made her point. Given that he'd tried to do the same thing to her, it wasn't much of an issue for him. The teachers… Not so much.
Now, he and Liz were sitting in front of the principal's office, waiting for their respective parents to come get them. He was going to get grounded even worse than he had last night, Trip was sure. He resumed his staring at Liz, trying not to focus on the fact that he'd completely killed his relationship with his mother.
"Trip, I ain't gonna get up an' dance," Liz said absently, studying her nails. Without her hood up to obscure her face, Trip could see every detail on her skin. He'd been amusing himself for the past ten minutes by trying to count the scales on her cheek. Obviously, she didn't find it as entertaining as he had.
"What a pity," Trip replied with a grin. "You're a lovely dancer." Liz made a rude gesture at him and they lapsed into silence again. After a few minutes, Trip cleared his throat nervously. "How bad are our parents going to kill us?"
"Your mum'll slaughter you. Dad will give me a gun," Liz said with absolute certainty. "After grounding me for a few days," she added, almost as an afterthought. Trip shook his head, sighing; there was no way to respond to that. The sad fact of the matter was that she was probably right. He'd never met Scales personally in the original timeline, but he could make some pretty good guesses as to how he'd act, just by studying Liz. Children tended to act like their parents, after all.
(That still didn't explain Orwell's odd behavior, though.)
The two children looked up as two adult-sized figures filled the doorway to the outside world. Dana Faraday was immediately recognizable, although Trip really had to wonder just what pit his mother had dug that suit out of. The other man… Trip recognized him, mostly from the times in his vigilante career where he'd received a baseball bat to head. The nine-year-old wondered why Scales was trusting any of his employees with his daughter, and then decided he didn't want to know. Knowing Noodle, though, it was a good assumption that Scales knew the man would protect his little girl from everything.
Trip didn't have much time to reflect on Noodle and the situation much after that, because his mother was next to him in a heartbeat. She grabbed his ear in her usual "I'm not happy right now" vice grip. Trip sighed. He was grounded. Again.
This just wasn't his week, was it?
- o – o -
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