If anyone ever asked Tobias Domzalski about his most reliable person, the answer would be rather obvious. Jimbo would be his first choice to talk to in case of some trouble or good news. How could it be otherwise when they both had grown up side by side?
Both boys had befriended fast enough after Toby and Nana had moved next door to Lakes' house.
Or at least, it was something they both preferred to believe. In the end, Toby had always kept an embarrassing secret he hoped his best friend would never learn.
Despite living next door to each other, he had seen Jim for the first time in the preschool. It had been Toby's first day there, so there was no way he could know anyone.
Some kids had been friendly to the newcomer, others not-so-much, and of course, there had been a local bully, someone thinking of himself as the best.
And Jim… Jim just had been neither of them. A weird kid, playing alone all the time. Was it so unusual to ask around about that one?
The responses Toby had gotten weren't something one would usually expect. The boy had been still very young back then, but he still could tell that children would bully anyone straying too much from the norm. Toby himself had been a target for mean jokes back in his old neighborhood, be it for his weight or the fact that he had no parents.
But, apparently, Jim had been alone for a way different reason. How had the other children described it? Oh yes, it had been 'he's scary'.
'Scary' had been an odd choice of the word, and personally, Toby couldn't help feeling quite skeptical about that one. Jim Lake had been a tiny and skinny child with a meek demeanor. Definitely not the one capable of instilling any fear.
Later, when both boys had already become close friends, Toby always kept wondering if Jimbo had noticed his initial reluctance to approach him. After all, the right thing would have been ignoring those talks altogether and judging for himself.
Yet Toby had stayed back - perhaps, for too long. At least, until he had witnessed something that made him reconsider many things.
There had been a boy at the preschool, named Donny - an overconfident and arrogant jerk, genuinely believing in his own superiority. He seemingly couldn't spend a day without showing off. His recent achievement had been a supposed fight and win against the monster living under his bed.
Yes, it had been just another trivial episode of shameless boasting. Or it would have been the one if Jim had never interrupted the gloating with a casual remark:
"There're no monsters under beds."
Something so trivial would have meant nothing to any adult, yet for children that one had been a drastic status quo change. The local star overthrown - that was always huge, no matter what kind of circumstances had caused it.
And there it had been Jim - the local outcast. Even if everyone had considered him scary, Donny would have never allowed someone like that to cause the uproar.
Probably, if anyone asked Toby what exactly had happened there, he would never be able to explain everything properly. It just had been too fast, too chaotic.
Donny accusing Jim of lying and attempting to mock him.
Jim being stubborn all of sudden, starting a heated argument out of nowhere.
Other kids joining, ganging against the blue-eyed boy, jeers and sneers getting louder with each passing second.
And then…
"You deny monsters because you're one of them!"
Whoever had yelled that probably hadn't even thought out it that much. As if anyone was capable of formulating any witty offense in that kind of situation. Yet, apparently, it had been the lowest blow possible, as Jim paled at once, all of his previous stubbornness evaporating at once.
A sign of weakness his bullies had never missed, joining in a jeering chanting.
"Monster!"
"Monster!"
Of course, not everyone was bullying that boy, only some selected few. Yet everyone else had never come to help. That was typical.
The fear in everyone else's gazes was not. Toby couldn't believe his own eyes - it seemed as if they were scared not of bullies, but Jim. That made no sense at all.
Who had thrown the first punch? Later Toby had tried to remember the moment many times, but it had always come blurred and distorted. He would have preferred it to be one of the bullies, though some nasty little voice kept whispering to him that Jim could have snapped first.
Did it even matter? The end result had been the same in any case - an unsightly one-sided fight with bullies ganging up on someone weaker while no adults had been watching.
Just another side of children growing up, they said. Toby had been in the same position too many times to imagine any other outcome.
He had been so wrong.
It was probably one of the most unpleasant memories the plump boy had - the one of children's fight transforming into something way nastier.
No, scary.
Who could have imagined that a skinny kid like Jim had been able to go full berserk once cornered?
To be honest, Toby, apparently, had been the only one without any knowledge of that. Other children seemingly had witnessed something similar before and bullies… Well, they had either hoped Jim wouldn't have snapped or were too dumb to think about consequences.
Yes, scary would be the best way to describe that fight. It had been as if numbers or size hadn't mattered anymore. Jim had been assaulting his bullies, ignoring hits or yelps, never stopping even when they had tried to run. Moreover, he hadn't been just kicking or punching - biting and scratching had been good too.
Scary, that had been too scary. So horrifying that even unwilling witnesses had started to cry and shiver.
Someone had called adults, but even then it had taken a while to stop all the chaos.
It had been too surreal.
Not the fight.
Not the adults intervening.
No, Toby simply had refused to believe how every single person had failed to see an obvious fact.
Through all of the fight and its aftermath, Jim had been the one scared the most.
Everyone had been simply wrong - the blue-eyed boy had never been scary or dangerous. It was just that no one had ever attempted to understand him.
Toby never knew what kind of force had led him when he had approached his future best friend for the first time. Not that he ever cared - back then, he hadn't gotten just a companion for games. The proper word would have been a brother even though there were no blood ties between the two of them.
Yes, Jim had been slightly odd though most of his quirks had faded with years. Or had he learned to control those? Toby could tell for sure that his best friend had made a conscious decision to avoid fights back in the preschool.
And other than that one? Everything else was relatively harmless, be it the preference for darkness or interest in caves.
Or that nearly supernatural luck when it came to finding peculiar rocks - Toby was quite envious of that one. He had been the one with genuine adoration for minerals, yet Jimbo, who had no interest at all, always ended with the best findings during their searches for something unusual.
But even knowing all of that, sometimes Toby was seriously amazed by his best friend and some of his quirks. They both had quite a crazy morning, with nearly getting late, nearly breaking some bones at the canal (well, that one was more like Tobias Domzalski's personal problem, but still), and then had gotten into some weird situation with a glowing and talking round object. How had Jimbo called it? An amulet? Personally, Toby would pick up a 'clock' if he needed a name, but whatever.
Though… Was that thing talking to start with? It could be some elaborate prank. Yet, now the plump teen was on the verge of believing in magic. Perhaps, simply because Jimbo had believed in it wholeheartedly from the very start - he had known his friend good enough to read him like an open book.
Well, mysterious objects aside, there had always been another enigma that went beyond Toby's comprehension, namely Jim's inability to focus on anything else but the one who seemingly bewitched him or something.
To be fair, the girl in question had definitely deserved all of that infatuation. It was difficult to deny that Claire Nuñez was a genuinely charming girl, intelligent, witty, and popular. There wasn't a thing she couldn't polish to perfection. Besides, Claire was a star of the school theatre. Unfortunately, such a crush was most likely doomed from the very beginning. The Latina was simply way out of poor Jimbo's league. Besides, to Toby's mind, his best friend was digging his own grave with his constant staring. It would be one thing if Jim had ever tried to talk to the owner of his heart - the girl in question wasn't arrogant or cold, after all, it was possible to befriend her. But no, apparently, the lanky teen was putting his crush on the unreachable pedestal.
As a disastrous result, when Claire was in close vicinity, it seemed that Jim's brain simply stopped functioning altogether. Even waving before his face was not able to break him off that lovestruck state. In the worst situations, Toby even needed to elbow or kick his best friend to return him to the Earth.
Like at the moment - seriously, it was tremendous luck that the girl in question had never noticed Jimbo ogling her. The reputation of a creep would be the last thing his best friend needed in his life. As if their social life wasn't at its lowest already.
Not to mention that the lovestruck flush had happened during Mr. Strickler's lesson this time - and everyone totally adored Mr. Strickler, especially Jim. There was no point in ruining that as well.
"Close your mouth," Toby whispered to his friend. Ugh, that crush of his seriously had gone past the point of sane. "You're drooling."
"No. No, I'm not," Jim answered absentmindedly. Well, that was at least something - it seemed this time he hadn't totally entered the Claire-centric reality. It had been worse before. Jimbo had even walked into a lamppost once. How Nuñez had never noticed that one, when half of the school had seen it, still remained a mystery.
Whatever.
Toby had no plans to waste his time on his best friend's crush - he turned back to his laptop, starting to hit some keys. The weird incident under the bridge this morning hadn't totally left his mind. Even if the possibility of magic being true was below statistical error, would it harm to check it?
"What are you doing?" Jim whispered, finally paying some proper attention to anything that wasn't Claire Nuñez. Well, maybe he wasn't that hopeless, after all.
"Research," the redhead threw a short reply.
"Hey, look up 'talking amulet'," his friend suggested.
That was better - now they had been on the same wavelength at last.
"I already did that. All I got was toys. One of them was a plushie," Toby turned to his friend, demonstrating his finding. There wasn't anything like the thing Jim had found this morning. But honestly, that could mean anything. It could be some obscure item or something custom-made. Or the name was different, and looking up 'talking amulet' had been wrong lead to start with.
Unfortunately, both boys seemingly had forgotten where they were at the moment. It was quite a problematic miscalculation. Of course, Mr. Strickler was nowhere near the Uhl the Unforgiveable level, but he still appreciated some discipline during his lessons.
"Jim, would you agree?" the teacher's question came unexpectedly. How long had he been standing behind the teen's back? Probably, more than enough to notice obviously not-lesson-related research.
"With Herodotus' opinion on his tactics of war, as I've described," Mr. Strickler repeated as if nothing had happened.
He had noticed, that was for sure. Any other teacher would start scolding or something like that, but Mr. Strickler never took that approach, always leaving some tiny chance for a safe. Apparently, he appreciated quick thinking and improvisation. And sometimes, his students actually found some way out of a predicament.
The problem was that between Claire and the mysterious amulet, Jim's brain had no space for poor Herodotus (whoever that dude was) and his tactics. The teen turned to Toby in hope for some help, but unfortunately, his friend had decided to ditch him, whistling innocently, as if he hadn't done some unrelated to lesson research only some seconds ago.
Seriously, Tobes?
So he had to improvise. Was there any other choice? Even Steve had managed to get out once, so it shouldn't have been that difficult.
"Absolutely," Jim smiled, hoping to stall for some time until some bright idea appeared. His brain still refused to cooperate for whatever reason.
"Excellent," Mr. Strickler continued calmly. "Which tactics specifically?"
No, the History teacher certainly wasn't going to let him go after not paying attention to the lesson. The lanky teen wondered if anyone had ever told the man that he was quite a sadist. By this moment, he would actually prefer some punishment.
"The, uh, winning ones?"
Yes, that was a far cry from a good or correct answer, but still better than nothing. Silence would have been the worst decision - Mr. Strickler couldn't stand something like that.
Not to mention, the bell rang before Mr. Strickler got an opportunity to ask another question - and there would have been some until Jim either pulled a decent improvisation or decided to give up and admit he hadn't been listening. But well, the luck was on his side this time - the History teacher never held back anyone after the lesson finished.
Or at least, it tended to be like that.
"Jim, may I have a word?" just when he had already thought this time he was off the hook, the teen heard his teacher's voice nearby.
His bag fell on the floor, scattering its contents. Jim crouched to pick up everything, and, much to his surprise, Mr. Strickler joined him.
"Jim, you're distracted," the man started with obvious concern. "You fell asleep between the invasion of Attica and the peace of Nicias, and your attention wandered for the rest of the class".
Whoever claimed that the World History teacher never paid enough attention to his surroundings, was seriously off. It was more like he saw everything but wisely preferred to ignore some stuff.
"Sorry. I didn't get a lot of sleep last night."
Lately, the teen had had trouble with getting some proper rest. Keeping the household meant either going to bed later or waking up earlier. Not to mention that Barbara had been returning way later those last few months.
Yes, that was quite a weak excuse for anyone who never bothered to learn about Lakes' family circumstances, and Jim knew that it wouldn't mean a thing for some other teachers.
Nevertheless, Mr. Strickler had always been different - never dismissing anyone while genuinely trying to understand and help with advice.
"I know it's just you and your mother and you want to help her," the man pointed out, reading the teen perfectly. Not that it was some secret, but some of the school staff didn't take it into account at all.
That was why Jim trusted Mr. Strickler - the man actually cared enough to know his students' circumstances.
"She's just really tired, Mr. Strickler. She's been working double shifts at the clinic," the teen admitted sadly. Especially lately - he couldn't get rid of a feeling that some kind of responsibility was crushing his mother. The boy didn't like that and wished it would stop, yet Barbara continued with her crazy life schedule.
Besides, the woman was clearly distressed lately, even though she did her best to hide it. Sometimes, Jim wondered why his mother refused to share her worries with him. Hadn't he been reliable? Hadn't he proved to be mature enough already?
"I believe, I'm overdue for a conversation with her," the teacher scribbled his number on a slip of paper and gave it to Jim. "Have her call me, please".
Well, that was not something Jim had expected - he was waiting for some kind of advice on how to talk to his mom or something. The teen wasn't sure if a phone conversation with his teacher was a good idea. He didn't want to stress Barbara even more.
"And feel free to drop by my office if you ever need to talk," Mr. Strickler added, either not noticing his student's hesitation or simply pretending that it was like that. Now, that the teen had thought about it, the man had always been rather hard to read.
"Yeah, I'll do that," Jim agreed, probably too fast, but whatever. He thought it was the end of the conversation, but his teacher surprised him once again, pointing out casually:
"Oh, and, Jim, if you fancy Miss Nuñez, I submit that talking to will be much more effective than staring at".
No, seriously, how was it possible not to like that man?
He didn't remember anything of his life before the Janus Order. Not that it was so uncommon - most changelings let go of their old memories fast enough. There was no point in clinging to the past, which tended to be bright and happy when the present and future held only grim survival. Well, some members of the Janus Order retained at least glimpses. Some remembered their old names.
Stricklander had nothing of that. Most likely, during his old life, before goblins snatched him from his settlement, there was a loving family and friends. Perhaps, he would have had a way different personality if he had grown up in that environment instead. More honest, with less interest in human stuff? Maybe even less ambitious and definitely not a schemer?
There was no point in speculating about what-ifs right now. His fate had been sealed when Stricklander had become a changeling, even if it had nothing to do with his wishes.
The current head of the Janus Order couldn't remember well his early years as an impure too. Were those memories so traumatizing? Knowing the changelings' training methods, it wouldn't be that far-fetched.
There was some vague recollection that Stricklander had barely made it. They had deemed him too weak and assigned him to a throw-away position. His only mission would have been retrieving a part of the Killahead Bridge. That one had been too challenging, the Order had already lost several members aiming for it. No one believed that Stricklander could have succeeded where others had failed.
He had finished the mission despite the odds during his seventh year as Walt Strickler. Apparently, even if the young changeling hadn't been the strongest, he could compensate it with his brains.
Funny thing, it had caused a lot of commotion. After all, the Janus Order always had two types of missions - retrieving parts of the Bridge and infiltrating into the most influential part of human society to expand its power. For the second one, changelings had to end in either noble or rich families, while the first one allowed more variety.
Strickler's parents were just farmers - the ones with a decent income but still too far away from having any kind of influence. The Order had picked them only because they had lived close enough to the location of the Killahead fragment.
So Stricklander would have to climb from the lowest position. His best option would have been an education. Back then, it had been pricey, but well, the parents had totally adored their talented son, working ten times harder to give him a better future.
They had been just a first stepping stone. Had Stricklander ever regretted using those cordial and affectionate people and then throwing them off like trash? Consciousness had never been in a list of traits for the perfect Janus Order's member.
The changeling wondered if his success had made the parents happy, at least for a while. Real Walt most likely would have stuck at the farm, leading the same low existence, never reaching higher heights.
Besides, his familiar's family had been just the first stepping stone. Stricklander had used so many fleshbags for his own goals that he had lost the count. Friends, lovers - all of those had been just a means, a tool. They were humans, different kind altogether, so what was the point in sympathizing with those?
It had always been quite a surreal kind of existence, donning the mask of someone he had never been. Stricklander could probably get tremendous success as an actor, but no, that was the kind of occupation all changelings avoided like the plague. Too much attention, yet never enough needed influence. There were many societal positions way more fitting for the Janus Order's ultimate goal.
Most changelings preferred places with some authority - those allowed them to function smoothly and cover their tracks just in case. So it was no wonder that most of his subordinates found Stricklander's own job as a teacher quite weird and unfitting. Especially after all of his ambitious progress - he could effortlessly end as a leader of some country if he ever wished so.
Shortsighted fools.
The head of Janus Order looked at those with obvious contempt. No one was good enough to understand his reasoning as they tended to judge only the surface level. No wonder, most of the Janus Order members would never rise above being expendable pawns. They would rather keep being disgusted with anything fleshbag-related than trying to use human knowledge to their advantage.
Quite the contrary, Stricklander was quite fascinated with humankind's history. They had decades of different conflicts, wars, and revolutions accumulating more than enough knowledge about tactics, schemes, and intrigue. It would be a total waste to ignore all of that only because those were invented by fleshbags, especially when trolls were all about simpler and bolder approaches. Finding a proper strategist among their kind was sometimes as impossible as strolling under the sunlight.
Not to mention that history had never been strictly black and white. There were more than enough so-called national heroes, saviors, and even saints who fell into a more gray category. It was quite impressive how much a depiction of the same personality could vary greatly depending on perspective. It fell perfectly in line with his own worldview.
But the main reason behind playing the role of a benevolent teacher was building his own network of connections. Stricklander was really good at reading personalities, so he often could pinpoint adolescents with potential. Nurturing those into influential people was a piece of cake - some help with finding a proper motivation, some wise advice regarding life choices, some encouragement in times of doubt. It had given him so many grateful former students in all kinds of spheres. Those never refused to help their beloved Mr. Strickler even after years had passed, never realizing that they were also putting some effort into reaching humankind's extermination faster.
No other changeling had ever accomplished anything of a similar level.
There were countless enviers inside the Janus Order, and those always tried to find a way to overthrow him. Accusing Stricklander of breaking the biggest taboo - getting too attached to anything fleshbag-related, was the most regular one. Unfortunately to his ill-wishers, his main priority had always been his ambitions. So breaking up some of his precious students to escape accusations wasn't new to the Head of Janus Order, no matter how wasteful that felt. The kind and caring Mr. Strickler was just a role in the end. He wasn't going to lose everything because of fake attachments.
Nevertheless, sometimes the line between real and fake feelings grew nearly non-existent. The man truly enjoyed his history lessons and put everything into those. Teaching helped him to forget about all the troubles surrounding the night side of his life. Bular certainly was driving him crazy with his reckless behavior, and his devious sister, lurking in the background with her unknown motives, only complicated things too much. Dealing with difficult teenagers after that felt like a breath of fresh air.
Stricklander nearly felt like an actual human during those, although crossing that line might have put everything he had accomplished in danger if ever discovered. But well, he had already learned how to cover his trails. He had the reputation of the Janus Order's top schemer and strategist for a reason.
The lesson today involved ancient Greece, one of Walt's favorites. It was quite a pity that not many students shared that passion, and some obviously weren't paying enough attention.
Like the Lake boy - the kid clearly had dozed off at some point, then after his friend had woken him up, had been staring at Miss Nuñez, and in the end, proceeded to whispering about some unrelated stuff together with Domzalski.
Mr. Strickler actually had taken some liking to that teen - despite being a seemingly average person, the boy possessed quite a potential. He was responsible, determined, and quick-witted - and all of that always meant a lot in Stricklander's book. The changeling had checked out Jim's background a long time ago, and some things started to make more sense.
A divorced mother, overworking herself. No other close relatives. A father who never bothered even to call, let alone visit.
An environment always influenced people a lot, though such circumstances could work both ways. Sometimes, Walt was rather curious about the teen's mother but never had enough time to talk to her properly.
In any case, Jim may have been his favorite student, but Mr. Strickler wasn't going to let him off the hook that easily. It could be a good life lesson for the boy, in any case. He had to learn that any action could have some consequences and be prepared to face those.
The teen definitely had no idea about Herodotus' tactics - he looked like he only heard about Herodotus some seconds ago (and most likely, it was exactly the case). However, the man couldn't help admiring how quickly his student came up with a response.
'Winning tactics' was in no way the perfect answer, but it was not bad for someone who had not even the slightest idea about the topic.
Still, Mr. Strickler would never let Jim go without proper talk, so he held him back after the lesson.
That was Stricklander's typical tactic - show concern, win some trust, then steer all later life decisions. This teen could go far, that was for sure.
It was odd that the head of Janus Order continued investing in his future connections when the Killahead restoration plan was so close to completion. There was a huge possibility that no one of his current students would ever reach legal age.
So why had he bothered? Was that just a matter of habit? Maybe, he had actually enjoyed giving advice to human kids? Or, perhaps, his enemies in the Order were right, and the devious Stricklander really started to care about fleshbags?
Well, there was no way that the last one was true.
Jim wasn't a big fan of P.E. Coach Laurence was too loud, too ruthless, and sometimes asked for too much even from those who were not capable of that. Toby ended on the receiving end of that word onslaught too often. Though, Jim himself didn't fare that much better. But on the other hand, P. E. was a perfect recipe for throwing away all the weird thoughts, be it worries about Barbara's overworking, Mr. Strickler's possible call, or the unexplained situation with the talking amulet. Or...
No, Jim's crush turned out to be way more intense than Coach's yells. He even abandoned Toby though his best friend could use some mental support right now with the buff man trying to motivate him with some insults.
Claire was sitting on the sidelines watching some video with her friends and laughing happily.
How could she possibly be so perfect?
Jim often imagined coming up to her, starting some casual talk, and then impressing the girl with... Well, with something - he had never thought farther than that. But would it be so impossible?
Mr. Strickler was right - more talking, less staring would be the most appropriate tactics. He simply needed to approach the Latina and say something - in the end, it wasn't like she was some celestial being.
The teen inhaled deeply, gathering all the courage.
He could do that.
There would be a drastic change in his life today, he somehow knew that for sure.
Nothing could change unless he tried.
"Buenos noches," Jim greeted the girls and instantly wished to be born mute after realizing what exactly left his lips. Tobes was right, his brains were malfunctioning in Claire's presence. No, he had to recite everything before even trying.
God, why did he even go with Spanish? Had Senor Uhl's lessons actually left such lasting damage or something? Besides, shouldn't it be buenos dias at least?
Judging from all three girls staring at him blankly, the first impression turned out to be a total disaster.
It felt like an eternity, though in reality, it was a matter of seconds.
"You speak Spanish?" Claire asked politely. Shannon coughed, probably to conceal laughter.
Everything just kept spiraling out of control. The boy really needed to say anything, yet all words just left his mind, leaving him stuttering like an idiot.
Claire would definitely think of him as a big oaf or dumbass after that. Why hadn't he prepared better? Maybe, even tried some recital before the actual first conversation? Or practicing with Tobes?
"Come on, Claire," Darci, the other one of her friends, ushered Latina as the bell ringed.
That was the end. Jim felt like he screwed officially, with no way to recover after the embarrassment. The first impression meant a lot, and his had turned atrocious already.
Yet...
"Do you like Shakespeare?" Claire suddenly turned back, asking something as random as his own 'buenos noches'.
"What?" Jim recovered from stupor at once, though his question wasn't much better than previous multiple uhs.
His crush was definitely a saint or something because instead of getting annoyed, she patiently repeated her previous phrase as if giving him a lifeline.
What a pity that the teen's comprehension ability wasn't in the best condition.
"Shakespeare?"
Now anyone would officially proclaim him braindead.
Not Claire Nuñez, apparently.
"The school play. We're having trouble getting boys to audition," she explained with a sigh, giving Jim a flyer.
"Uh... Oh!" so that was the reason why she bothered talking to the lanky teen there wasn't even one coherent phrase from him. Yes, it was a bit disheartening, but maybe it could be a good start for knowing each other better? The Latina hadn't forbidden him to approach her again, after all. Did it mean that not everything was lost? And with that, no matter how tiny, there was still a chance to make things right.
"Hasta huevo," Jim resorted to Spanish again, though this time he felt he made a way more embarrassing mistake in wording. Though, most likely, his crush wasn't listening to that in any case…
No matter how actually disastrous and embarrassing Jim's first-ever conversation with Claire had gone, he couldn't help sharing it with Toby. After all, he could always get some advice from his best friend. He never expected such skepticism as a response.
"You talked to her?" Tobes inquired, struggling with his sock. For a second, the lanky teen wondered if he was still slightly upset for having to deal with Coach Lawrence alone, but brushed it off fast.
"Yep," Jim confirmed it curtly. Probably it was a good thing that Tobes had no opportunity to hear the exact contents of that talk, where there were only six actual words from the lovestruck boy's side, four of which were atrocious Spanish. That was something he would rather never show to anyone.
The plump teen was continuing his uneven fight with a stubborn sock, so for a second, Jim thought that it was more important for him. Nevertheless, after Toby fell off the bench, he turned his full attention to his friend and his love troubles.
"Like, actually spoke to her? Not just, you know, in your head".
Sometimes it felt as if Tobias Domzalski knew him too well. After all, Jim had imagined more than enough possible talks with his crush. However, this time it hadn't been just a fantasy.
"I unleashed my Español on her," the lanky teen admitted, taking out his bag from the locker and digging the mysterious amulet out of it.
Was his newfound courage the result of that odd thing's influence? Did it bring good luck or something? Maybe his disastrous attempt at flirt actually worked thanks to it?
"Oh, no," Toby grumbled, most likely getting a mental image. At least, he wasn't going to hang on that, continuing more casually: "You should totally do it".
"What? The play? I'm not an actor," Jim disagreed at once. Theatre wasn't his thing, not to mention that he could easily have stage fright or something.
Yes, getting into the same play as Claire was tempting, and that could make them closer, especially knowing what kind of play it was, but... The lanky teen tried to stay realistic - there were way more chances that he would be a laughing stock instead, and his crush would stop talking to him altogether. No, he had to try again later. To start a better conversation, preferably without unleashing Español. And maybe, if he was lucky enough, there wouldn't be anyone else around too.
"Come on," Toby refused to give up for some reason, be it in convincing his friend or in his battle against his sock. "You're always saying how you want your life to be more exciting. Right?"
So he has actually paid attention to all of that.
Jim wished he gave more credit to his friend - he was surprisingly insightful sometimes, though people mostly didn't take him seriously.
But would being in the play change the lanky teen's life? Was it that thing he had been desiring all this time? Just a change, something different?
That answer was no. Not everything would do.
"I don't think 'Romeo and Juliet' is exactly the answer, Tobes," he tried to explain his point even though he couldn't understand his feelings fully himself. "I don't mean just, you know, exciting. I mean... more".
Yeah, exciting was an obvious understatement of what his soul truly desired. And even being together with his crush in a play would never satisfy him enough to chase away that suffocating feeling he had at times.
"I just need to know that there's something more to life than high school," Jim looked at the amulet somberly. That object definitely held some secret - he wanted to believe that it wasn't just a fancy toy, that there was something more to it as well.
The teen could swear he felt some humming energy coursing through the amulet. Or was it just his imagination?
Some weird noise made the teen pause and look for the source of it. Was there someone else in the changing room? Apparently, there was some shadow moving, so Jim went to check. Why though? He had no idea - it wasn't like someone's presence would bother him.
"Something more?" Toby inquired, not noticing the change in atmosphere.
Hadn't he heard that? The noise had been pretty distinctive, after all.
There was someone at the showers, though everyone else should have left a long time ago. Jim himself only stayed to wait for Toby who always took more time to change.
Yet now, there was obviously the sound of rushing water and some steam coming out of showers. That was slightly spooky and felt like a scene of some thriller.
"Hello? Anybody in there?" Jim called, trying not to think about any horror movies as that would be the best moment for a monster to appear.
Well, that would be simply stupid.
Monsters were not real, he would never accept otherwise.
But…
What if?
The teen approached the showers carefully, stopping right in the doorway and squinting in an attempt to see at least anything. There had been too much steam to get any clear image, but he could swear that mysterious shadow had moved once again.
Or was it just a fruit of imagination? Something born out of his wishful thinking? That there was actually more to the world?
"Got one!" Toby's scream nearly made Jim jump.
He was really overthinking. What had he expected to see? A monster? Come on, those were just a fairy-tale!
The school day had ended without anything extraordinary happening, much to Jim's disappointment. Somehow, he was nearly expecting something huge, yet it never came.
Well, the boys nearly got late, but that wasn't even that uncommon, though getting late because of some talking amulet was new.
That thing might have looked peculiar, but the more Jim thought, the more he came to the conclusion that it was just a weird toy, probably not even popular enough to be still listed on the Internet. It would be stupid to expect something more from it.
The first talk to Claire was… The teen had actually decided not to count it as one. There should have been another time - and hopefully, his crush would forget about that fiasco.
And that situation with the mysterious shadow in the showers? Just imagination, or, perhaps, a prank.
There had been more important things to take into account, like Mr. Strickler wanting to talk to his mom. Yes, the History teacher was a great guy, and most likely, the conversation would be calm and sympathetic, but... Barbara would still worry, and Jim wanted to avoid that at any cost.
Sometimes he seriously envied Toby, especially when it seemed like his only concern was the state of his teeth, like right now, for example. Apparently, the orthodontist promised his friend to finish his many years of suffering with braces soon. Well, if four years counted as soon.
Or maybe Tobes was just trying to lighten the mood - sometimes it was nearly impossible to tell for sure. That one was also just another part of the routine. The plan would be to ride back home, perhaps, even hang out together a bit. Jim even contemplated inviting his friend for dinner.
And then they both had noticed something that soured the mood right away, namely Steve Palchuk, the ultimate bully showing another one of his victims into a locker. It seemed that Eli had suffered for nothing once again.
Jim hated that kind of situation with passion. Was it so weird to dislike Steve? That guy had no reason to attack anyone, other than inflating his already gigantic ego and proving that he was the true alpha around. Not that the jock was the only one with that kind of attitude - Jim had met more than enough similar people when he was younger.
The only truth was that the lanky teen couldn't stand bullies and not only for the obvious reasons. No, those guys were also invoking some unpleasant dark feelings deep inside. Who knew how long it would take before Jim snapped? The only thought of the possibility scared the boy to his core. Since befriending Toby, Jim had never lost control over his rage, but the thing was that he also had been actively avoiding any fights.
He simply was too afraid to face the repeat of the situation in the pre-school where everyone was scared of him.
But, on the other hand, wasn't there any way to stop bullies without resolving to physical violence?
"Okay. Nothing to see here," Toby warned Jim with some tremble in his voice. That had always been their tactic - to avoid troubles and pretend that nothing was wrong. But was that a good thing? Weren't they just running away, letting Steve do as he wished?
"We can't just let him do that," the lanky teen had protested. It wasn't the first time they had such a discussion, but in the end, it never got past talks. They simply couldn't find any proper answer.
"Oh, yes, we can," Toby also disliked that but had simply given up a long time ago, deciding to stay out of trouble. "If Psycho Steve's terrorizing him, he's not terrorizing us".
That was the sad truth - both friends had been in a similar position several times. It was either Eli or one of them.
Sometimes Jim wished to stop the vicious circle. How wonderful it would be to make Steve stop his bullying.
To defeat him in battle.
To crush him thoroughly until he started begging for mercy.
Jim shivered - the last one was a truly terrifying thought. That was exactly his reason for avoiding bullies as, occasionally, the teen got some genuinely disturbing ideas. Those tended to grow extremely nasty with Palchuk around.
Good thing that those had never gone past mind images. Besides, who he tried to fool? When it came to physical strength, Steve obviously had the upper hand.
Nevertheless, wasn't there some other way to solve the situation? The one that didn't involve either negligence or aggression?
Nothing would change without taking action.
Before Jim managed to recognize his actions fully, his legs already started to lead him towards Steve. Apparently, he was improvising once again. It had been the third time for the one day. Too much, perhaps?
"Jim? Jim! Oh, no," somewhere behind his back, Toby was attempting to prevent the disaster from happening, but everything was futile. The point of no return had already been crossed.
Steve was showing off his superiority, like always, with the full support of his goons. Was it really that fun to keep someone in the locker and hit the metal occasionally? Jim would bet that the bully had no experience of being held in a confined space himself and had no idea how traumatizing it could be.
"Tell me again, dweeb-face," Steve was clearly enjoying the stuff. His whole posture was screaming that he was the king here. "Tell me about the creatures and maybe I'll let you out!"
It was not a secret that Eli often ended in trouble because of the stuff he believed in, as everybody else found him delusional. It didn't change the fact that the local football star went too far. And he wasn't to stop so fast, even if his victim told him what he demanded. 'Maybe' always meant 'depending on mood' in Steve's case. And the bully was more often in the mood for keeping his victims in lockers.
"Or you can let him out right now," Jim was surprised himself how firmly those words sounded. Alas, most of the sudden bravery evaporated the second the bully turned to him, so the lanky teen quickly added:
"I mean, you know, it would be nice".
Maybe, in the end, physical strength meant everything. Strong will and bravery alone wouldn't be able to stop someone like Steve - if that one could get ashamed only because of some words, he would stop picking up on others a long time ago.
Just punch him to oblivion already. Erase that smug smirk from his face for good. He's nothing.
It was resurfacing once again. Toby was so right - the best course of action would have been staying back, much like everyone else. And now, it would never end well. Be it Steve beating the crap out of his sudden opposition or Jim losing control - both would be equally horrible.
"Nice would be you minding your own business," there was some barely hidden anger in the bully's voice. Of course, he saw nothing wrong in his own actions - he probably genuinely believed himself to be a king of the school or something. And Jim, without doubt, was just an annoyance daring to question that authority.
"Oh, hi, Jim," Eli greeted his classmate from the locker. The way he sounded suggested that he didn't expect anything extraordinary to happen too.
The bespectacled boy just had given up, coming to terms with the current state of things.
He wasn't the only one though - everyone else was the same, preferring to ignore everyday occurrences, deciding to pass by instead of calling out Steve and his goons on their attitude.
'It's alright as long as it's not me,' that was a common consensus. Everyone knew that.
Especially Steve. No wonder that he returned to humiliating poor Eli. There had been some weak attempts to criticize the bully before, but no one was brave enough to put more force into those. And Lame Lake would never be the one.
"So, where were we? Um... Oh, yeah, ok," Steve was obviously showing everyone that their opinion didn't matter - he would do whatever he wanted the way he wanted as many times as he wanted.
Interrogating Eli about monsters was fun - seriously, how delusional could the guy be? He definitely possessed quite an imagination, and it attracted too much attention.
And no one had the right to stand out more than Steve.
Maybe, after all of that, the stupid Pepperjack would stop with his nonsense. All of his behavior just pissed the jock for some reason.
Jim was watching all of that helplessly. In the makeshift school hierarchy, Steve had seized the top position for himself. Right now, he was just executing the right of the strong.
There is no place for weaklings to complain.
Wasn't the lanky teen just lucky at the moment? Apparently, the local bully was in a great mood, otherwise, Jim could join Eli in another locker.
I'm no hero, after all.
There was a beautiful childhood dream a long time ago - to bring a change, to make things different. It shattered into thousand pieces after encountering reality.
You need strength to be able to change anything.
Besides...
Monsters cannot be heroes.
Why had that thought resurfaced right now? He wasn't a monster and would never be one.
It would be better just to escape.
No one would laugh or criticize Jim for that.
They had been doing the same all the time.
It was so easy just to let Eli endure all of Steve's frustration, to be everyone's scapegoat...
It's not right.
"Look, Steve, seriously, just let him out," Jim said quietly. In the end, he couldn't stay away, no matter what consequences would be waiting ahead.
And there would be some, that was for sure. The lanky teen had openly challenged the bully. As if Steve would ever tolerate that insolence. Well, at least, he had managed to silence dark thoughts, so now the only disastrous outcome was being beaten to the pulp.
It didn't even take that long as the jock grabbed the strap of his bag, bringing Jim up to his eyes level.
"Or you'll do what?" Steve hissed, his fist dangerously close to his sudden foe's face.
The line was crossed already, so what was the point of being afraid?
"Okay, do it. Punch me," Jim dared, getting some gasps from surrounding people. There was actually some audience to witness all of that - not that anyone was going to interfere.
Right now, everything was just between Jim and Steve - not a physical fight, but more like the battle of wills. The lanky teen had nothing to lose. On the other hand, the jock had his entire reputation at stake.
"You... You're asking for a beating?" it seemed nearly impossible, but the bully had actually hesitated for a split second. Or maybe it had been just wishful thinking.
Jim could hear his common sense basically screaming for him to stop digging his own grave (and why that one sounded eerily similar to Toby's voice?).
It was too late to stop, however. It wasn't like Steve would let him go because he shut up. Not after getting on his nerves several times in a row. It was exactly sink or swim kind of situation, so wouldn't it be better to try swimming at least?
"Yeah. Just go crazy," Jim continued with taunting. Had he just got desperate at this point?
Deep inside, the boy knew that the answer was 'no' - he simply couldn't stand the status quo anymore. So many talks about wanting something more, yet he did nothing to change anything.
A part of the teen despised himself for being that weak and cowardly, no matter how hard he tried to bury those feelings.
There is no honor in staying out of trouble.
Jim wondered why the honor was of any importance, but probably it had some weight for him? Sometimes he failed to understand his own soul.
"In twenty years, you're gonna be fat and bald and you'll be working in a muffler shop, and Eli will have a career in software and he'll be a billionaire," the words were flowing out of his mouth like an unstoppable stream. Where did all of those come from? Oh yeah, that was something Jim wanted to tell for a while but never had any guts to say aloud.
Even Steve was taken by surprise, let alone everyone else. Was it Jim's imagination or more people had actually gathered?
That was new. That was the change. That was someone starting the revolt against the top bully's tyranny.
"I do like computers," Eli confirmed from inside the locker. Had he also found some courage to fight?
And not him alone.
"Let him out," Toby, who was the most reluctant from the very start, suddenly demanded boldly.
As if by some signal, the crowd started chanting the same 'let him out!'.
The tables had turned for Steve - all of a sudden, the people around him were disapproving and revolting. Some fear crossed his face, but it quickly changed into anger.
No one would ever dare to cross him. That was all that Lame Lake's fault - he had started that. Wouldn't taking him out stop the unexpected riot? No one would follow the weakling.
Nevertheless, the luck wasn't on the jock's side as Coach Lawrence appeared from the school building, yelling angrily.
Well, wouldn't that be natural, after all the noise the crowd caused?
Steve was forced to retreat, but it didn't mean that he would ever let that buttsnack have his win. He would show him his place and make sure that Lake would learn the lesson the hard way.
I'm the special one... He's not.
"Friday, at noon. You and me," the bully told the lanky teen quietly. No, of course, that wasn't a duel challenge. That one was reserved for equals only. There was no way that Lame Lake was anywhere close to Steve's level.
That would be just a countdown until a one-sided onslaught...