Josh has physical education in the schedule he was assigned to, and while he did not voluntarily sign up for the school's volleyball course, it did take place at Gym 1, and so he was able to find it with ease. There was not a single soul in the hallways, a sight to be expected of on Fridays. American kids seem to dislike school more so than his fellow Hongkongers. Only the school's staff, a few clubs, and practice teams remained in the building.
The entrance to the gym was ajar, with dim and orange light spilling out into the hallway. Save for his backpack and a dignified-looking student, the gymnasium is as deserted as rest of the school.
The student opened his eyes and turned his attention towards him. Unlike the JROTC kid from before, his brown hair is neatly brushed back, and practically the entire left side of his uniform is decorated with medals and awards, accomplishments he had achieved over the years in the state sponsored program. Almost a whole head taller than Josh, the cadet's nameplate displayed his surname to be Jackson, and, if he remembered the rankings he saw on the flyer correctly, his ranking is that of a colonel, the highest possible prestige to obtain in the JROTC. This guy doesn't joke around, does he?
"You must be Joshua Jiu," he spoke, and Josh immediately recognized his husky voice as the same one on the speakers. He didn't catch the nameplate on the previous kid before. Is there a chance that they know each other?
"That would be me."
"Imbecile," like thunder, he snapped out of nowhere. "How dare you leaving your belongings in the hallway like a pigeon's rotting corpse on the streets? You can't be even called a maggot. They are more useful than the likes of you even as nature's freeloaders."
It's almost comical on how much of a difference this guy is compared to the kid.
"Look," Josh started, "there was something urgent for me to do, so I apologize for leaving my bag. Now, if you'll be kind enough to hand it over, sir, I have something equally urgent for me to attend."
He backed a step away when Jackson attempted to slap some discipline into him. The two shared a moment of stiff silence.
"You have some nerve coming back here, freshman."
"Junior, sir."
"Insolent underclassman, is the word respect lost to your generation? I say you are a freshman, and you are a freshman."
Josh couldn't decide on whether to raise his eyebrow or to narrow them. They must be strained with all the American shenanigans he had to deal with so far. This country, it's something else, isn't it?
"How arrogant you are," Jackson continued, "thinking that you can come to this school, after pulling that atrocious stunt."
"Stunt?"
"Freshman."
If he was still in Hong Kong this guy would have been socked right now. Hard. "Stunt, sir?"
"What in the devil are you thinking, standing up to them like that? Radical Islam does not negotiate, and mercy is a word extinct to them like respect to you."
Great, now he can narrow his brows without hesitance, all right. Someone has to bring it up every day, and he's already starting to regret ever fighting back against the terrorists. But what would anyone else have done in his situation? It was the right thing to do. He was the only one on the plane who had the power to stop them. Well, there was Alicia's father, Mr. McCall, but he was stuck in the bathroom.
"Your peers hold you in high regards, freshman," Jackson said. "And they will inevitably start to emulate you. Subconsciously, if they are not aware of it. The next time they witness a bank robbery or a mugging on the streets, what are they going to do? They will get reminded of your 'heroic deeds', and draw inspiration from it, only to get shot or stabbed afterward."
He blinked. The words, while he could understand them individually, as taught carefully by his British teacher back home, did not make not sense to him. The only reaction he could muster was a slow and disoriented "...What?", in the hope that he might have misheard or misinterpreted the cadet's meaning.
"Do you have any idea how many students of the Islamic faith attend here? Ever since your arrival I have received endless complaints in the office from them, shunning you from creating an anti-Islamic presence in the school."
"I never did that," Josh replied, his voice feeling hoarse. "I never did any of that."
The cadet tapped his head. "Yes, yes you did. You may not have done it yourself, but the hate and the propaganda were distributed through the symbolism of you conquering the terrorist threat. Who knows what would they have done, if they took over the airplane's controls? Another tragedy of the radicalism sect will occur, and since you are the shining diamond of hope that placed a wrench in their plans, the bigots, fanatics, and extremists hidden among us in the school have rallied, now that you, the champion they've been waiting for, is here."
"No. You're kidding."
"I had to break up a riot fifth period today. Surely you must have heard the commotion, freshman?"
"But I thought that was just a fight."
"It started as one, but it only takes an unassuming ember to light the whole city aflame. The cafeteria had to shut down, and those that were involved were immediately charged with indefinite suspension."
Riots. Is that what is really going on at school? All those kids adoring him, worshiping him, he thought it was just harmless admiration. He thought his actions on the plane were for the best. How could he possibly have known that this would happen?
"I..." Josh stuttered. He couldn't even think properly now. "I didn't think it will lead to this."
"You didn't. You saved the plane and did your part. But don't worry." Jackson said. "The school security is trained for events like this, and I, alongside the student president, will try our best to resolve this peacefully. It all stems from hate in the end. The firebrands that ignited this false crusade, they are just afraid. Afraid of the fear caused by the terrorists worldwide. All it takes is some counseling for them. They are still young, and thus susceptible to the notion of change. They could still be saved.
"As for you, however," The cadet handed him his backpack. "It may be too late for you. So long as you are here, the sparks will never die, only kept suppressed under the icy winds of vigilance and the watchful eyes of the law and order. Riots like this will break out again, and again, and again, until the day comes that it cannot be contained."
"What should I do, then...?"
"Leave." He stated, his aquamarine eyes seemed to be piercing through him. "Leave this school. Leave Thomas A. Edison High, and leave the city of Westingdale. Maybe even California, if it comes down to it. Move to another town, adopt a new name, and hope the people there wouldn't recognize you."
"Leave..." Josh echoed, staring blankly at his backpack. It may be just him, but it felt particularly heavy.
"Of course, you don't have to go right away, else the students would start to suspect. Give it a few weeks." Jackson checked his wristwatch for the time. "What are you giving me that dull look for, freshman? You are dismissed. Consider the advice from all of us that care."
His legs dragged him out of the gym, the door creaking before stopping ajar just like before. It's been less than a month since he and his mother escaped from the Triad's grasp in Hong Kong, and now they have to be on the move once again, all because of him. They will have to withdraw the small fortunate of money deposited in the bank, which originally intended to as his pay college, in order settle down in their new home in the middle of nowhere.
Will he be able to convince his mother to move again? The Triads, it was his fault for angering them in the first place, and his father had to pay the price. Coming to America was their only hope at living a normal life again. But the terrorists had to show up.
As he stalked into the hallway lifelessly like a reanimated corpse lacking a master, a young girl bumped into him right around the corner. Luckily she wasn't carrying anything for gravity to drop. Unluckily, she recognized him, and he did too, in return.
"Jo...Joshua?" The girl stuttered in an almost inaudible volume. She's the Japanese girl in his Chemistry class. Annie or Anna, one of those. It's incredibly easy to miss her with that tiny build, braided hair, and eyeglasses. There are too many in the school that reassembled her meek Asian girl look.
He muttered a quick greeting and shuffled past her.
"W...Wait! H-Hold on!" She caught up to him, panting. Josh looked at her. "D-Do you know this girl named Amber?"
The Muslim girl in their Chemistry class, who sat on the other side of the room. Did she participate in that riot today?
"W-Well, she wants to t-tell you that s-she's grateful."
"What?" Unsure on hearing her stuttered words correctly, Josh stopped in his tracks and faced her. "Grateful?"
"Um..." the girl glanced away, pursuing her lips. "Y-Yeah, she told me at lunch that she wants to tell you on the b-behalf of all of the Muslim students i-in the school thatshewantstoapplaudyouforsavingthepeopleontheplaneand-"
"Slow down, Ann..."
"A-Anna."
"Anna. What did she say?"
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "She, as the representative of the Muslim Club, wants to express thanks to you for standing up to the radical and the extremists of their religion, as well as saving all the lives of the people on the plane."
"She's grateful for me? But what about the riot?"
"Riot, J-Joshua?"
"The riot earlier in the day? The one that started out as a fight?"
"Um...there was no riot." She said. "But p-people did talk about you. A lot."
"Me?"
"Y-Yeah, in the hallways, lunch, and even in classes, with the teacher pitching in as well. Everyone is proud for you to be in the same school as them." She peeked at the floor coyly, twisted her body side to side. "Um...I-I as well..."
But Josh was already gone by then. He dashed straight back to the gym, leaving his backpack behind.