I wake up the next day with a smile on my face. Despite being busy, I had an interesting day – interesting in a good way, of course. I think Saya is going to be a good friend and ally to have here, and Marcus I can already see being a best friend. I hope. I never really had friends so much as acquaintances – I really made John's friends my own for the most part.
After spending my whole life with twenty-plus-year-old friends, I find teenagers hard to relate to. They were usually shitty little boys who either were too intimidated by me or were conceited dicks who thought that I couldn't possibly live up to my hype. Idiots. They quickly learned their place. The only people I spoke to on a semi-regular basis who were even close to my age were the ballerinas who trained under The Director.
With no shortage of reluctance, I pry myself out of bed and get myself ready for the day. I look at myself in my full-body mirror and stare at the uniform, trying to get used to the sight. It feels… plain. I hate it. I don't suppose they will let me personalize the uniform. It's kind of implied by the name.
My eyeliner is sharp enough to cut a man, my lashes dark and thick, and my lips are a deep plum that compliment my lighter eyes. With a sigh, I quickly card my fingers through my short black hair, ruffling more volume into the waves. Despite the outfit, I think I look pretty good.
I am absolutely jonesing for a cigarette, so I leave my dorm and lock the door before heading to the Graveyard. The school is already awake and moving by the time I leave my room, giving me a good opportunity to scope out the masses. Without making it obvious, I observe the people around me. It's a good habit John had me develop. The kids here are openly hostile and stare at me as I pass without trying to hide it. The styles are very eclectic – goths, jocks, preps, stoners, and everything in between.
I keep my stare ahead of me as I confidently saunter through the halls and climb stairways. With this first glimpse of the school, I can tell I am going to need to keep vigilant, and I will have to rely on all my skills. Shouldn't be a problem; I'm more than confident in my training. Hell, I bet my body count puts everyone else's to shame.
I can hear the whispers around me and it's obvious I am the topic of conversation. I'm fresh meat and they are curious. I give it until after first period before people start testing me.
Whatever, bring it on.
I proceed on with a cocky smile curling my painted lips until I finally reach the roof, slipping quietly through the door. Ahead, I can hear a few voices; the only ones I recognize are Marcus's and Petra's which softens my grin to a happy smile.
"What about the Hessians?"
"School's dry, Desperate Dan," says Petra.
"You look like boiled asshole," a male voice retorts.
"Yeah, well, I didn't sleep well," says Marcus peevishly.
The group turns to look at me and I flash a grin. "Aw, don't tell me you're grumpy, I still need someone to show me around."
Marcus' tired eyes light up a little as a small smile splits his handsome features. I walk over and stand at his side before greeting the others.
"Hey, I'm Andy. Slightly newer than this guy," I say, gesturing to Marcus with my thumb before directing my attention to Petra. "I remember you. Thanks for the drink."
She keeps quiet and salutes me with two fingers, the smile on her face faint but friendly. The boy with the green mohawk bounced up and offers the arm not currently in a cast.
"I'm Billy! The dude with the shitty accent and spikey hair is Lex," he chirps, an even friendlier smile. I glance at the other guy, and he waggles his eyebrows at me before making a kissy face. He's definitely not my type, but I wink at him anyway which makes him blush.
"I heard you saved our boy Marcus here from Chico – choked him out with your jacket," Lex says, almost impressed.
"Anything can be a weapon if you're holding it right."
Before anyone can say anything else, the bell rings signaling our time being up.
Damn, I didn't even get to smoke…
Lex walks up to Marcus and puts his hands on his arms. "Oh well, you'll have to face the day dry, son. Easy does it. Let go and let God. One day at a time," preaches Lex before he plants a kiss on Marcus' lips then slaps him. I immediately cover my mouth to stifle my laugh at the look on Marcus' face.
"Hey, where are you going first?" Marcus clears his throat, walking over and leans over to look at my timetable with me. "Oh, cool, you're with me. I'll walk you there." He holds out his hand with a tired smile.
I hold back my dorky grin and simply nod, taking the hand he offers me. It's kind of cute that he wants to hold my hand, like I'll get lost or something. But, I don't mind so I don't say anything, just let him tug me those few steps before he stops, staring behind us.
"Hey, you okay?" I look between him and the empty space he is staring at.
He stays silent for a few moments before seemingly shaking himself out of whatever trance he was in. "Yeah, sorry. Let's go."
I furrow my eyebrows but don't press any further, allowing him to lead me to our class.
The Poison Lab instructor goes on passionately before proposing a rhetorical question. I sit beside Petra with my chin cradled in my palm, elbow propped up on the desk. I can tell already that I am going to need some help in this class. Maybe I can ask Petra or Saya.
"Gee, Mr. Denke, they didn't use it on anyone, did they?"
"Boy howdy, they did," Mr. Denke answers Billy cheerily. "But what's really exciting is what they have planned. Uncle Sam is stockpiling this stuff. So are the Soviets. Why?"
"To finish off whoever's left after the nukes." Petra says sullenly.
"Hey, you could slip some in Reagan's jellybeans, Marcus. You know, when you kill the president?" I turn my head to look at whoever chimed in sarcastically. I see some long-haired asshole smiling snidely at Marcus, who makes an irritated face but ignores him for the most part.
The bell rings and Mr. Denke calls out our homework as he dismisses us. I walk over to my friend and nudge him with my shoulder, smiling over at him.
"You know, if you need help killing Reagan, I totally know a guy. All you have to do is ask." Evidentially, I said the right thing because he gifts me with one of his lady-killer smiles and it takes everything in me not to melt.
"Thanks, Andy. Come on, we have Study Hall next."
Once again, he takes my hand, and we are off.
I spend the first half of Study Hall talking to Saya about her last mission. The girl is a machine and I love it. She can be a little uptight when you first meet her, but I think I've got her warmed up to me enough that she considers me a friend. At least, if I'm reading her right.
I start to answer her when she asks me a question about what knife technique I use, when I see Marcus drawing in his notebook. I look back at Saya and nod my head in his direction, smirking. She gets my silent question and we both walk over to peer over his shoulders to see what he is up to.
The curly-haired boy stops what he is doing and looks between us before covering the page and closing the book. He gives Saya a teasing look then turns to give me a lingering stare, to which I pout.
"You'll show me one day, killer," I promise before going back to my previous conversation, though half of my attention is now focused on Marcus.
I notice out of the corner of my eye when he looks over at some prep and tries to make friends. Internally, I groan and wait for the inevitable.
"Suck a dick, wannabe."
Yup, there it is. Asshole.
"Miss Wick, you were not here when I assigned this task to the class but given the mission you carried out two days ago, I'd say it counts. Please, come up front and tell us what happened."
I suck in a deep breath through my nose when he uses my last name, seething on the inside. I wanted to make a name for myself outside of my relationship with John. It's not that I am ashamed or embarrassed, it's that I want to prove I can succeed without him.
My name doesn't go unnoticed by the class unfortunately and the whispers start immediately. I deadpan as I get up and walk up in front. When I get there, I notice Marcus look around, listening to the whispers before looking at me confused. Right, he wouldn't know who John is, he is new to all this.
"Wick. As in John Wick?"
"Is it true he killed three men in a bar with—"
"A pencil? Yes. Do you want a demonstration?" I ask, the only change in my expression being a raised brow.
"Enough. No more questions. Go on." Master Lin gives a stern command, and the room falls silent.
I take another deep breath before going into a sanitized version of events. "I got into the city October twenty-eighth and immediately began my planning and gearing up, hitting up my contacts in the city for intel and supplies. The next day I hit the first two warehouses, both housing twenty-five women guarded by twenty men. I applied my training in nine different applied forms of martial arts as well as the three-gun technique – that involves navigating a course full of active targets and accurately taking them down while switching between multiple firearms," I can't help but add like a know-it-all. I have a healthy ego. "The next day, I took out the last warehouse, freeing a total of seventy-five women. Since it was impossible to take out all three warehouses in one day – two was a stretch – the ringleaders went into hiding. At that point, I had to reach out to my contact who helped me locate the three safehouses, each house was guarded by twelve men. I finished the evening of the thirtieth with a total body count of one-hundred-and-fourteen including the heads of the trafficking ring. To cover my tracks, I torched each building."
I don't mention all the money I dropped getting these women back home to their families or how much I gave the ones who had nowhere else to go. I'm not infinitely rich, but I will always give what I can to anyone in that situation. That was almost me just a year ago. If I didn't have the connections I do, I don't know where I would have ended up at this point. Those women don't have a John in their lives to save them, but they have me. I have trained my whole life to do things like this, not just knock off assholes – although I still do plenty of that. Something has to fund my vigilante habit.
The class remained silent for a moment before a slew of hands raised in the air to ask questions. I'm pretty sure I knew what some of them were; some about my mission and some about John, most likely.
Without giving anyone a chance, some kid in the back blurts out his question, "you said you used nine different techniques, what are they?"
I look at Master Lin, who gestures for me to answer. I resist the urge to roll my eyes and slump petulantly and instead I answer. "Japanese jiu-jitsu, Brazilian jiu-jitsu, Judo, Sambo, Krav Maga, Kung Fu, Aikido, Silat, and Arnis. I am proficient in all but a master in some. I'm hoping to have mastered all nine by the time I'm through here."
Before anyone else can question me, I make my way back to my seat and keep my sight forward on the chalkboard. I can see from my peripheral that Marcus is staring at me, but I'm not sure what I will see there so I don't look. I know he knows I can fight and that I've killed before – killed a lot – but for some reason his opinion of me really matters. I've never been ashamed of who I am or what I do, but I don't think I could handle him looking at me differently.
Next up, this big kid named Willie comes up and starts bragging about killing some deranged homeless man. A little anticlimactic after my story, but who am I to judge? Actually, while listening to him, I start to realize the flaws in his story. I can tell Master Lin isn't buying it either, which gives me some sense of trust in his abilities to call bullshit.
Movement from Marcus catches my eye and I finally glance over at him. He looks uncomfortable, like he's fighting himself. I desperately want to ask what is going on with him since this morning, but I can't in the middle of class. Once we get out of here, I plan on pulling him aside to ask. Maybe I shouldn't pry, but the bastard made me care.
Willie sits down and Master Lin starts in on the class. "Seventy percent of soldiers don't pull the trigger in battle, no matter the stakes. The weak always choke in the face of killing. With fear of expulsion, all your hopes and dreams, all your family's expectations, only two of you could do it, so we'll have a new test," he emphasizes his anger by smacking Saya's desk with his cane, "a final chance to prove your worth. Survive and you will earn your place here. Fail and you die. The weak do not belong in my school. Go. Get out of my sight."
And with that, everyone but Willie is dismissed.
AN: Phew, that was a long chapter! Sorry about that. It was actually going to be even longer, (like double this) but I cut some stuff out. The good news is that means I already have a good bit of chapter 4 already written, so that'll be out soon.
Thank you all for reading so far! Please let me know what you think.
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