Chapter 3 - Stand and Deliver
Three years didn't change much for Marilyn. Her hair grew longer, too long to put into a ponytail anymore. Now she kept it squashed in a bun. Maybe she was taller, too. A bit too tall. She was taller than a lot of the boys her age now, thanks to an undesired growth spurt. That definitely didn't do much to make the boys grow much fonder of her. So, in the end, not much really changed at all.
Sighing under her breath, Marilyn leaned forward onto her desk and propped up her chin on the palm of her hand. The class had been waiting for around twenty minutes by this point. The Overseer was telling something to their teacher, Mr. Alden. Though they had the same last name, Marilyn wasn't very closely related to her teacher. She knew he was her father's cousin, so that made him something like her first cousin once removed. She wasn't the only Alden in class, either. Suffice to say, she never got any special treatment.
As Marilyn sat in bored silence, she stared at the back of Judy Russell's head from the seat in front of her. Meanwhile, she could hear bits and pieces of the chatter going on directly behind her, where Timbo sat with his girlfriend of the week.
"Haha, you're so funny, Timbo!" Cherry giggled stupidly, snorting a little as she laughed.
"You think so?" Timbo chuckled, "Maybe I should try to become a comedian!"
Cherry giggled again, the shrill sound making Marilyn wince.
"I think you'd be really good at that, Timbo!" She chirped.
Marilyn rolled her eyes, ready to try and tune them out, when she heard someone approach the desk behind her, where Timbo sat. Glancing back, she could just make out the figure of Craig Haley out of the corner of her eye. Her mood soured even more at the mere sight of him, that perpetual thorn in her side. Nothing good ever came of Craig Haley.
"Yeah, Timbo," Craig chimed in with a mocking tone, "All you'd have to do is walk on stage and people would bust a gut looking at your ugly face!"
He laughed in that gruff, unpleasant way that he did whenever he was back at his bullying again.
"What do you want, Craig?" Timbo grumbled, "I'm busy talking to my girl here."
Cherry giggled stupidly, but Craig pressed on.
"Ohhh, you mean she's the girl? I thought you were!" Craig said with faux surprise, before adding venomously, "You know, considering how much effort you put into styling your stupid hair."
Marilyn glanced back at Timbo with his greased hair. She had to admit, Craig kind of had a point. For the last year or so, he and Dick had decided to start to slick back their hair like they were those goons from the pre-war holotapes. She didn't really know why Timbo did it, but she suspected it had something to do with "the ladies" or whatever. As for Dick, Marilyn knew full well that it'd probably been his idea to begin with. He was perpetually fascinated with pre-war things, probably owing to his obsession with films. Marilyn knew if he'd lived in that pre-war world, he probably would've become an actor or something. The hair was a good start, but he was constantly lamenting his inability to get his hands on some pre-war clothes to truly look the part.
At least, he used to. Back when they were still on speaking terms. She couldn't remember exactly why, but she was really mad about him for something that had happened a couple months back. At least, she had been mad, when she told him she wasn't speaking to him anymore back then. Her eyes flicked over to where Dick sat, towards the back of the next row. He was distractedly playing with that silver flip lighter again. Click, click, click. He never stopped with that stupid thing. She didn't even know where he got it, but ever since he had, he was never without it.
"Well, you're an idiot Craig," Timbo retorted with a shrug, "So I don't blame you for getting boys and girls confused."
Marilyn looked over towards Timbo just in time to see Craig sock him in the stomach. Her eyes widened and Cherry gasped as Craig yanked Timbo away from his desk. He punched Timbo again in the stomach, making him double over, leaving Craig an easy opening to push him to the floor.
"Call me an idiot, huh?!" Craig growled, punching Timbo in the back, "Not so tough now, are you?!"
Cherry stood up quickly, grabbing Craig's arm before he could land another blow down against Timbo's back.
"Stop it! Leave him alone!" She cried in that shrill voice of hers.
As the rest of the class watched in silent alarm, Craig started kicking Timbo before he was finally able to fling Cherry away, knocking her down. Marilyn came to the sharp realization that she was sitting directly in front of them. She was too close to just stand–err, sit—by and let this happen! She had to help! But when she went to stand up, she noticed Dick did the same.
"Lay off my brother, man," Dick said as he shoved Craig away from Timbo.
"Oh that's right, there's another DiMucci sister!" Craig mocked, raising his fists, "Well, come on then! I'll pound the both of you!"
It was a pretty common occurrence for the rest of them to see Dick and Craig going at it. Craig had been a bully ever since they'd begun school, probably because he was so much taller than everyone else. Or maybe having a security officer for a father made him feel invincible. Craig was nothing if not fair as a bully, though. He made sure to do his rounds, giving everyone their chance in the hot seat, but Dick and Timbo had always been his favorite victims. Only, Dick had long ago gotten fed up with being considered a victim.
Craig got in a good punch to Dick's stomach, but Dick bopped him good on the nose in return. Craig kicked at the other's shin, and Dick elbowed him back in the ribs. Soon enough, they were rolling around on the floor, trading blows, pulling hair, and cursing at each other. It was pretty evenly back and forth, hard to say who would win.
But then the classroom door opened with a hiss and it very quickly became clear that both would lose.
"Boys! Boys!" Mr. Alden cried, hurrying over, "Stop that!"
As usual, the two ignored him. But then the Overseer stepped forward, hands clasped together behind his back.
"That's quite enough," He said coldly, stopping both boys on the spot.
Both looked up to the Overseer who loomed over them, still frozen mid-swing.
"Return to your seats, both of you," He ordered dismissively.
Dick and Craig awkwardly detangled from each other, shuffling silently back to their respective seats. As soon as they were seated, the Overseer glanced over at Timbo, who remained curled up on the floor with Cherry beside him.
"Cherlyn, take Timothy to the infirmary," He said as he moved past.
"Yes, sir," She said quickly as she helped Timbo up, limping off to the infirmary.
The Overseer glanced at everyone else, a tacit warning for no further funny business, before moving to the front of the classroom.
"Today, I will be informing you children of a very important matter," He began, turning to face the class, "Five years from now will mark the centennial anniversary of this Vault. What this means, children, is that it will be the 100th year we have lived within the safety of Vault 31."
There were a few quiet whispers in response to this, and the Overseer waited for total silence before he continued.
"As your teacher has taught you in your history lessons, the world was irrevocably changed on October 23rd in the year 2077," He explained, "The world beyond this Vault is very dangerous, and full of many hazards."
Marilyn sat up a bit, watching curiously. Just what was this about?
"There is very much that we don't know," The Overseer pressed on, "However, we do know that this Vault was not designed to be our home forever."
There were a few more murmurs at this, and the Overseer again waited for silence before he continued.
"The original inhabitants of this Vault, each and every one of them, were born in the year 2059," The Overseer paused to look at several of the children, "Exactly 100 years before each of you were born."
Marilyn glanced down, brow furrowing. Admittedly, she did always wonder why people were only allowed to have babies at very specific years. Was this all part of some elaborate plan? But to what? She looked back up to her grandfather.
"In 2077, the Vault door closed," He said with a sense of finality, "And in 2177, it will open."
Excited murmurs immediately flooded the room as everyone spoke amongst themselves. Marilyn just stared ahead with wide eyes.
"The truth is, children, we do not know what will await us in the outside world," The Overseer pressed on despite the continued whispers, unable to rein it back to total silence, "The Vault has sheltered us not only from the dangers, but the knowledge. Therefore, in 2177, we will send some of you out."
Marilyn caught the emphasis on the words "some of you" that gave her an uneasy feeling, though she couldn't quite explain why.
"The G.O.A.T. of 2075, and all further testing, will include one additional occupation," The Overseer explained, "Those who meet the qualifications shall be assigned as a Scout."
There were a few more murmurs, but the Overseer continued over them.
"This will be a highly dangerous occupation, but highly necessary. For those of you who may be interested, I have spoken at length with your teacher, and he can answer any questions you may have on the matter," The Overseer said with a nod to Mr. Alden, "Now, I have many other duties to attend. I leave you children to your scheduled lessons."
Marilyn watched the Overseer share a few more words with Mr. Alden by the door before he left. She could've sworn he glanced over towards her, but maybe she was just seeing things.
"Okay, class," Mr. Alden clapped his hands together as he approached the front of the classroom, "Let's continue where we left off yesterday with our studies of the periodic table."
It was difficult for Marilyn to focus on her ordinary lessons for the rest of the day. Leaving the Vault was something she'd never even considered before. But now that she had, the thought wouldn't leave her mind. Just what was it like out there, anyway? Were there still people out there, or were people like her in the Vaults all that was left? What were the requirements for becoming a Scout, anyway? As she considered talking to Mr. Alden, Marilyn slowly gathered up her things. As a result, she didn't even notice anyone approaching until a hand slapped down onto her desk.
"Hey, Alden," Craig greeted, instantly souring her mood again.
When she didn't immediately respond, Craig raised an eyebrow.
"What's the matter? Struck speechless?" He smirked, "Still thinking about how cool I looked beating up that wuss earlier?"
"Ugh, no," Marilyn wrinkled her nose, "I'm just… thinking about the Overseer's announcement earlier."
"Oh yeah?" Craig leaned back a bit, casually trying to flex his muscles while pretending to stretch, "Yeah, I think I might do that Scout thing. I'd be good at it, you know? My dad already taught me how to use a gun."
Marilyn glanced aside, unimpressed by his posturing.
"What about you? You interested in that Scout thing?" Craig leaned towards her again, sticking his face back into her view, "Cause, if you are, maybe you could come over to my place sometime. I could teach you how to use a gun."
"...I'll think about it," Marilyn mumbled curtly, squeezing past him to get out of her desk, hugging her books to her chest.
"You sure like thinking, huh? Maybe the G.O.A.T. will make you a scientist," Craig offered, turning to follow her, "Or a doctor like your sister?"
Marilyn made a face when he started to follow her towards the door. She scowled even more when he compared her to her sister.
"...I think I could be a Scout," She mumbled, more to herself than him.
"Yeah, but I bet you'd look really cute in that nurse uniform, though," Craig waggled his eyebrows, trying to be suave, "That little skirt would look good on you."
Blushing slightly, Marilyn gave a tired sigh. She didn't know why Craig liked her. They had barely said two words to each other when he had declared that he was going to marry her. Marilyn supposed she should've been flattered that a boy was even interested in her that way, considering she was ignored by all the others. But Craig's persistence came off more as pushy than anything. Like he was trying to bully her into being his girlfriend.
"...Just… go away, Craig," Marilyn glanced back at him, "And stop following me."
"Make me," Craig sneered, continuing to follow her.
Stopping in front of the classroom door, Marilyn turned back to face him, hugging her books tighter. She tried to think of something biting she could say, at least to hurt his feelings. Curse her inability to come up with good insults. She could've really used Timbo about then!
But then Craig leaned over towards her, lips puckered, in an attempt to steal a kiss. Marilyn leaned back sharply, bonking her head against the door behind her and dropping her books in the process. For all his annoying ways of bothering her, that was always the one that upset her the most. And so, powered by years of annoyance, Marilyn gritted her teeth and leaned back behind her fist, punching him right in the nose. She hit him square in the bridge of the nose, and it made a sickening crack.
"Ah! What the hell!" Craig howled, stepping back and cupping his nose.
"Language, Mr. Haley," Mr. Alden sighed from his desk, not bothering to look up.
"She broke my nose!" Craig said as he moved his hands away, thick gobs of blood dripping down his face.
With a quick glance up towards Craig, Mr. Alden sighed again.
"Why do I get the feeling you deserved it, Mr. Haley?" Mr. Alden droned, closing his gradebook, "Just get to the infirmary before you get blood everywhere."
Craig huffed angrily, wincing as he touched his nose, before shoving past Marilyn and out of the classroom.
"You know the drill, Ms. Alden," Mr. Alden said as he picked up his red grading pen, "Overseer's office. Off you go, missy."
Marilyn went to protest, to argue that she was just defending herself. But she knew it was useless and grumpily trudged out of the classroom, scowling at the ground. She left her books behind as a petulant act of defiance. She only took a few steps out into the corridor before a pair of boots blocked her path. Click, click, click. She didn't even need to look up to know who it was, but did so anyway.
"Huh, so that's why his nose was broken," Dick said as he continued to flick his lighter, "I knew I didn't get it earlier."
Marilyn went to respond, to say Craig was asking for it, but bit her tongue at the last second. Oh, right. She and Dick weren't speaking right now. Well, she wasn't speaking, at least. Dick had sort of already broken that.
"So what'd he do this time?" Dick perked a brow, continuing to flick his lighter, "Try to kiss you again?"
Marilyn glanced at the flip lighter, watching him open and close it. Click, click, click. So annoying. Unwilling to break her silence, she just gave him a wordless nod.
"...Still not talking to me?" Dick sighed.
Marilyn nodded again, staring at the blooming bruise on his cheek. Click, click, click.
"Still mad at me?"
Another nod. Click, click, click.
"...Look, I'm sorry, alright?" Dick grumbled, scuffing his boot against the floor, "I told you, it's not like I meant to hit you in the face."
Marilyn blinked. Wait… was this… just about that baseball game? The one where he'd thrown a pitch at her and gave her a black eye? That was what she'd been so mad about? Unable to help herself, she just laughed.
"What? You don't believe me?" Dick frowned, looking anxious.
"N-No, not that!" Marilyn wheezed, leaning over to set her hands on her knees.
Dick scowled and folded his arms, starting to grow annoyed.
"Well what then? I mean, I apologize and you laugh at—"
"I completely forgot!" Marilyn laughed, "I had no idea why I was even mad at you anymore!"
Dick stared at her for a moment before covering his face with his hand.
"I'm such an idiot," He grumbled, removing his hand, "I should've just apologized back then, but I guess I was kinda mad you thought I did it on purpose."
"Well, I did say you throw like a girl," Mariyln admitted as she wiped a tear away.
"Hey, if I even threw half as good as you," Dick shrugged, "I probably wouldn't have hit you in the face."
"Yeah, probably," Marilyn grinned.
"So, um, we're cool now?" Dick looked at her with an anxious smile.
"Yeah, we're cool. I can't really stay mad at you, anyway," Marilyn nodded, starting to feel better before she remembered, "Walk me to the elevator? I've gotta go see the Overseer."
"Sure," Dick nodded, turning to walk alongside her, "Y'know, it sucked not being able to hang out with you. I had to spend so much time with Timbo, and all he ever wants to do is go hit on girls."
"You've been punished well enough, then," Marilyn giggled.
"Yeah, no kidding," Dick chuckled as he made a face, "I think I might have three different girlfriends now, thanks to him."
Marilyn glanced over, her smile faltering slightly. She really hoped that was just a joke, though she didn't quite understand why.