I know, it's been a bit. But I've got so little to do! Just bear with me.
It is truly amazing how a big city can feel so empty.
When it came to Philly, this could be for any number of reasons. For one, most people weren't psyched about staying out in the smog that coated Philadelphia. (Too much carbon smoke can really mess up your lungs. The clean air was pretty much the only thing I missed about LA.) Even if the coal was gone from the mountains and burners, the smoke still hung in the air – and everyone's lungs were suffering from it.
For another, crime was a big problem in Philly – of course, that's a moot point with urban areas. I don't care what city you live in; you're bound to run into a few scoundrels, desperate people, and questionable neighborhoods. Of course, the avatars gather in such places as well. The especially strong human presence tends to mask their auras quite well. As for the crime? Just a little something to cut their teeth on.
But it does get lonely sometimes.
As we raced down the streets, I could spy some big kids in hoodies eyeing us like we were appetizers, which had me picking up my pace. Even without monsters attacking, Philly was a dangerous place to live. I was glad I'd spent time in the streets of LA, where I could learn to be tough. I stared the boys down with the leader glare I'd perfected over the few months of monster attacks I'd had – However bad you think you are, I'm far worse.
I also couldn't stop thinking about how far we'd come since that fateful summer day. No sooner had I moved to my home (I couldn't really call Loss of Angels home) than I wound up with Vinny Lee and Amos for my new friends. Oh, and I ran into Sonic and his main crew. That wound up changing not just that day, but my whole life.
The very next day, I went out with my crew for lunch in Matthias Baldwin Park. What started as a little picnic became the start of a whole new existence for me. I befriended Imira and then wound up, by way of a summer quest, finding another set of problems for myself – and my little friend group – to deal with.
Running into the Vortex was already mind-blowing enough. But being placed in charge of keeping humanity from going totes insane – that was something to take in. I mean, placing the world in the hands of four teenagers is always an insane idea. And as if that all wasn't crazy enough, I was in charge of the team – my little team.
Why me? Why was I, a little California teenager with an aversion to political matters, put in charge of a team like mine? Especially since I barely knew them at the time. But someone has to head up a squad. Everyone looks to someone to be their guide in the storm. And heaven help them, both VLADJI and the Vortex had named me as that someone.
I spied the school as we continued up Orianna. The place was an old building next to the Iglesia Evangelica el Refugio, which wasn't exactly a remote church. It took place in the chapel school, which the church had let them use as a school place. It took the label of high school, but it was more of a cooperative. Not the way a normal school would operate.
Okay, to be fair, I hadn't had that much experience with a normal school. After the bullying incidents, Mom had homeschooled me and most of my family. It helped me keep a clear head, being educated at my own pace – and being educated at all. It spared me from the rest of the things the other SoCal elites blindly put up with in school – and even pushed (!) – and that the commoners had no time for.
I was glad of it.
We stopped running as soon as we reached the school.
I spotted a swarm of people on the approach. Sure, I knew Fairview wasn't exactly the most elitist cooperative. The school population had been mostly evangelicals – until it added in other Christians. The school operated on a certain classical curriculum, which included Bible studies. The non-Christian students, whom they'd only allowed to enroll last school year (long story), were exempt from that class. I found that entirely reasonable. No sense thrusting your beliefs on someone who held different ones. I wasn't that way, which was why Imira and Amos were willing to stay with me.
I simply hadn't expected so many kids to show up here. Cooperatives like Fairview were pretty niche, even if they did cater to the common people. But I suppose people were getting tired of the public schools not even caring about teaching their kids practical skills. Some people do have standards, I suppose.
"Nice turnout," Amos observed, looking through the crowd.
"Apparently the idea was pretty popular," I said in response. "Let's find a way through this mob, shall we?"
As we approached the building, I saw the flag flying. It was our very own Stars and Stripes, nothing more, nothing less. It always annoyed me when the public schools draped other flags along with Old Glory and/or the state flag. As if the state and federal flags don't inspire the kids enough? I was glad to see just that grand old flag. It meant Fairview had its priorities straight.
Once we were inside, I had to gape in awe. I'd seen some restored school buildings, yes. VLADJI has its headquarters in one – a little elementary school building we'd dubbed the Hangar, which had been restored by the avatars. However, they had been more intent on keeping it a replica of the past than exactly, you know, adapting it. The dust and emptiness gave it a feel that did not seem to fit VLADJI – but definitely fit the atmosphere we were fighting off, a world without reason or metaphysical. A hollow world.
This one was very much alive and operating. I could actually see the bustle of the students. I scanned around, hoping to find a few friends. Yes, I already had my buddies in VLADJI, but if I was going to be serious about this crime fighting business, I'd need more connections than that. My line of work can get you in serious trouble if you're not careful. And then there's the whole thing about strength in numbers.
A few of the other students stuck out in my mind. An African American girl with a black leather jacket was walking through another part of the crowd, head high, pointedly ignoring their dirty looks. I had to admire her courage. A burly boy in a letterman jacket, probably a footballer, was eyeing a smaller kid like he was a meal. I made a mental note to avoid him. I'd seen my fair share of bullies and knew one when I saw one. A girl with ash blond hair in a gray blouse with denim jeans was shouldering her way through the crowd, occasionally glancing over and scowling like she expected something to attack her. I hadn't thought one of the students would be so paranoid. I decided she'd make a nice ally.
"Wow," Vinny Lee said. "¡Hola! How's the day?" she shouted to no one in particular.
Some of the kids gave her annoyed looks, but no one bothered us. I guess they were used to random people shouting hello at them.
Once we got to our first class – which was history – we found they weren't assigning seats, which I was grateful for. I wanted to stay close to my friends in case something came up. (You never know.) I settled into a seat near the center, at which point Imira sat behind me and Amos and Vinny Lee came up on either side.
I could catch the ash blond girl in the seat immediately in front of me, which puzzled me. I hadn't talked to this girl, and I could tell she did it on purpose. Why would she want to be near me?
"All right, everyone!" said the teacher as she tapped the desk, snapping me out of my reverie.
She was kind of young looking, with dark brown hair in a ponytail (like mine) and lively blue eyes. It gave me the impression of a young prairie schoolteacher. She sported a brown straight skirt and a blue blouse with a ruffled collar that gave me the impression of a wolf of Fenris, which jarred with the youngish face.
Everyone settled down when she tapped her fingers. Even Vinny Lee snapped to attention, although I caught her feet kicking the back of her seat. That chick could never sit still. A handy thing in a fight, where everything's so chaotic you can't keep still for a moment, but a bit of a hindrance when sitting behind a desk.
"Good morning," she said in a cheery voice that sounded a little too high for her frame. It reminded me of Amos's old friend Miriam Stegner, with the way her voice squawked, and I was 90 percent sure she was faking that voice. "I am Mrs. Hardcastle, your teacher for history."
Amos snickered, then mouthed, Hard castle?
Sh, I mouthed back. If my teachers in the past had been anything to go by, they wouldn't take any smack talk from their students. Besides, while I didn't know exactly how VLADJI was supposed to conduct itself in a school setting, I did know that making fun of adults wouldn't help our image.
"Okay, since many of us don't know each other, I'll call off names," Mrs. Hardcastle continued. "I'll help it along."
"Roll call," Imira muttered. "Of course she'd do a roll call."
"Quiet!" I whispered. Again, the talking-in-class thing. Besides, it made sense that she'd take a roll call. It made it easier to connect names with faces. She'd need to do that, with a class this big.
"Acacio, Christina!" Hardcastle called out.
"Right here!" called a girl from the back.
"Adwell, Breen!"
A boy with glasses who looked like a humanized, Native American variant of Tails acknowledged his teacher with, "Here, Mrs. Hardcastle!"
As the list went down, I had a moment of panic. I hadn't mentioned my real name to Imira. Vinny Lee and Amos were the only ones who knew about it. Heck, Amos had come up with my nickname based on my initials. But Imira? Not so much.
"Darrow, Adam!" the teacher called out.
"Here, ma'am!" I guessed Darrow was a military kid, from the way he stood up and saluted at his name. Some of the other kids giggled, but Mrs. Hardcastle did not look amused.
"At ease, Darrow. Now… what's this… Darvosky, Amos!"
She pronounced it dar-VOH-sky. When he'd introduced himself, I was pretty sure the stress wasn't on the middle syllable so much as the first. Uh-oh. This was going to be fun.
"Here, Mrs. Hardcastle," Amos responded with a snappish tone. Perhaps he didn't like the way she'd mispronounced his last name. I suppose I could understand that.
"Amos!" I scolded him, but it was too late.
"Please, keep any snide remarks to yourself, Amos," Mrs. Hardcastle said. Then continued on with roll call.
"Way to go, Darvosky," Imira commented, pronouncing the last name correctly. I wasn't sure why she'd want to appease Amos now, as Mr. Darvosky annoyed her constantly.
"Quiet," I hissed. I got the sense that Mrs. Hardcastle didn't like Amos. Not surprising, given the boy was harassed in pretty much every school he'd been in, but I would've put in a complaint with my mom. She did not tolerate antisemitism. Of course, it was more likely she'd overheard his wisecrack about her name. That woman had radar ears, like my mom.
"Fadjir, Imira!" I noticed she didn't mispronounce Imira's last name, although Arabic names are notoriously difficult to pronounce properly. Nothing against my Islamic friend, but if you butcher a Jew's last name but make an effort on a Muslim's, something is seriously wrong with you.
Judging from the way Vinny Lee squirmed in her seat and shot a worried glance in Amos's direction, she'd come to the same conclusion.
"Right here, ma'am," Imira said. "How 'bout you leave Amos alone?"
Mrs. Hardcastle narrowed her eyes at Imira, then went on with the roll call.
I followed the line of students. Everyone else already seemed nervous, but several were throwing sympathetic glances in Amos's direction, as if he hadn't sparked this off by mocking the teacher. (You do not want to mess things up on the first day.)
I couldn't blame them, however. This was their first time in a school setting like this. Several were probably aware this wasn't going to be like middle school. They did not need hostility from the teachers. We didn't need it, for sure.
I braced myself as the roll call continued.
"Imira?" I whispered.
She mouthed back, you're not telling me off, are you?
Of course she would be nervous about that. Ever since I'd saved her from bullies when we'd first met, she held me in awe. But I hadn't been talking to scold her for her reaction. There was something I needed to tell her.
"Johnson, Charlie!"
"About the way I introduced myself?" I said hastily. "In the park?"
"Oh, that?" she asked. "Why?"
"Jordan, Tiffany!"
I was running out of time to explain.
"Well, I didn't exactly mention my real name," I said quietly. "It's –"
"Jorgman, Delaney!"
Whoa, word's out. What are they going to do? Verse for today: Mark 6:4. Stay tuned!