The sun hangs high, casting an inviting warmth across New York City, as white fluffy clouds drift slowly as a glacier across a vast sheet of pastel blue. A spring breeze whips around the diverse city, ruffling hair and skirts, carrying the captivating scent of freshly bloomed flowers, cut grass, and street food. Car horns blare, drivers bicker over who has the right of way, and tourists trek around the city to see the only two tourist attractions they know.
At eight thirty that morning, a glossy yellow school bus, its windows down and students' disorderly conversations echoing down the street, came to a stop in front of the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
With a pull of a lever, the doors opened inward. Students' leapt out of their seats and shuffled out onto the sidewalk in a single file line, dispersing and grouping up with their friends. Lively laughter and friendly cursing rang out, several students voicing their displeasure at having to spend the day at a museum. A few bragged about the luxurious vacations awaiting them at the end of the school year, and others quietly mentioned the urge to pay someone to buy them beer over the summer. "Just to see what it tastes like," they said in a joking manner, in case a teacher overheard.
A loud "E' una vera stronza!" erupted from the bus, followed by more Italian words in what people could only assume was a scolding.
Four students got off the bus – the four outcasts of Yancy Academy.
Bianca Di Angelo-Jackson: A kind girl in a band of misfits, she is the oldest of the four and a Yancy Academy graduate, having left as a straight A valedictorian. Her silky black hair was tied back in a tight braid and her olive skin shimmered in the sunlight like sand at a tropical beach. The only reason she was on this trip was as a personal favor to the teachers, who expressed their condolences to her for having siblings like Nico and Adrestia.
Nico Di Angelo-Jackson: A Mythomagic fanatic with a look that could kill, Bianca's little brother was the definition of a closeted emo. His black hair was always messy, like he refused to brush it after getting out of bed, and his hands were as cold as ice. It was suspected that his wardrobe consisted entirely of black clothing because it was the only color anyone saw him wear, along with his aviator's jacket and steel-toed boots. Unlike the other two, he sent chills down everyone's spine with his blank stare and the madman glint in his brown eyes.
Adrestia Jackson: With jet-black hair as wild and untamed as her personality, the six foot tall skater girl was a powerhouse and the definition of sass. In the midday sun, her tanned skin glittered like polished bronze and her sea-green eyes blazed with defiance, firm muscles embellishing her lithe form. Several rumors about her run-ins with the law and past expulsions had circulated around the school since the start of the year, giving her a troubled kid reputation. Her friends call her Addie or 'Desti.
Grover Underwood: A new addition to the group, he is not as intimidating. He was a scrawny boy with a wispy beard and curly brown hair, and he had a muscular disease in his legs. He'd cry whenever he got frustrated and walked funny. Everyone believed he only joined their group for protection.
Adorning Bianca, Nico, and Adrestia's neck, its silver sheen glinting, was a skull pendant. It was a creepy piece of jewelry, too realistic looking for anyone's liking, and the rubies in the eye sockets made people feel it was truly looking at them. As far as everyone knew, they never took it off their necks.
Nico aggressively points to Adrestia, saying more words in Italian that no one could understand, gesturing for her to get closer while gesturing to Bianca, as if he was asking her to step in or something. The girl shakes her head as she replies in Greek – another language no one could understand – and raises her hands in surrender, taking a step back. Grover steps forward, nervously putting his hand on Nico's shoulder, telling him something in Greek. The people who stopped to watch and listen wondered how one could know what the other was saying, because Italian and Greek were vastly different grammar wise. Nico visibly relaxes at Grover's words, reluctantly relenting from whatever he couldn't let go.
Mr. Brunner, the Latin teacher, rides up in his motorized wheelchair. He stops and says, "May I ask what has upset you so much, Mr. Di Angelo? I wouldn't want whatever is bothering you to affect this trip."
"It's nothing," Nico grumbles, stuffing his hands into his jacket.
Mr. Brunner turns to Bianca with a questioning look.
"He's angry he can't get revenge on Nancy," she explains.
Nico sends her a glare, speaking in a hushed voice through gritted teeth. "Bianca!"
"And why exactly does he want to get revenge on Nancy?"
"She threw pieces of her peanut butter and ketchup sandwich at me the entire bus ride," says Grover sheepishly.
Nico sneers in disgust, muttering, "Che schifo."
"I would've decked Nancy," Adrestia butts in, leaning against the bus and crossing her arms over her chest, "if I wasn't on probation."
"Well, I'm glad that stopped you," Mr. Brunner says, giving her a stern look. "I wouldn't want that one mistake to threaten your future, Ms. Jackson. I expect great things from you."
Adrestia raises a brow at his words, a flicker of disbelief appearing on her neutral expression. When Mr. Brunner told her that, or something close to that, she wanted to be angry. Not only did her dyslexia and ADHD let her never get anything above a C-, she was constantly in trouble with authority. She believed you shouldn't expect great things from a person like her, and she wished he wouldn't.
Mr. Brunner turns to Nico. "Mr. Di Angelo, I suggest you follow Ms. Jackson's lead and avoid retaliating against Nancy. You may not get in as much trouble as your sister, but that doesn't mean you should put your future at risk as well. Do you understand?"
Nico looks away, stubbornly avoiding his intense brown eyes that look as though they belong to someone who's lived a thousand years.
"Do you understand, Mr. Di Angelo?" Mr. Brunner asks again, his voice firmer this time.
Nico growls. "Yes, I understand," he answers, grinding the words out through clenched teeth.
Mr. Brunner glances at each of them, staring longer at Grover, before rolling away. The group watches him leave.
The moment he's out of earshot, Adrestia comments, "He's weird."
"He's not weird," Bianca lightly chides. "He's just trying to help you."
"Why?" Nico questions, glancing at his older sister. His skeptical gaze returns to the middle-aged man in the wheelchair.
"Does it matter why? He's one of the only teachers who actually doesn't want to give up on you two."
"Yeah, the other one's Mrs. Dodds." Irritation flashes across Adrestia's face, a corner of her lip tugged into a sneer.
A throat clearing steals the group's attention. They look up to lock eyes with their fifty-year-old math teacher, Mrs. Dodds, wearing her usual black leather jacket and strict expression, eyes boring into their souls.
"I think she heard you," Nico whispers, leaning towards Adrestia.
"Ya think?" Adrestia's voice is just as low, a chill running down her spine as Mrs. Dodds eyes narrow.
A small sound similar to a bleat escapes Grover's lips. The trio looks at him, noting the pink coloring his light-brown cheeks. Grover clears his throat, hurriedly saying, "Mr. Brunner is calling for us. We should get going."
A murmur of agreement rises between them as they join the others, ignoring the derisive stares they had more or less gotten used to. Bianca, Nico, and Adrestia had the looks and the personality to be one of the popular kids. The only thing stopping them was a number of things: Adrestia's troubled history, Nico's homosexuality, Bianca's loyalty to her siblings, their poor background, and them not caring about popularity. It didn't help that they had foreign roots. Their peers often mocked the way they spoke, purposely mispronouncing words with a terrible accent. Although, it was more tolerable than the stereotypes.
"What's wrong with Mrs. Dodds?" Bianca asks in Italian, turning to her younger sister.
Adrestia shrugs, replying in Greek. "She's too . . . harsh, I guess."
"What? Is she abusive or something?"
"No, but," Adrestia pauses, shaking her head as she sighs. "It feels like she hates me or something. She gives me the evil eye a lot."
"She'd probably stop giving you the evil eye if you paid attention more," said Grover in Greek.
"Maybe if she didn't sound like the teachers from the military academies I went to, I would actually try to pay attention," Adrestia retorts as they walk towards the museum with the rest of the group.
It was twelve thirty, and the students were outside having lunch. They sat on the steps of the museum, watching the Fifth Avenue foot traffic as they ate.
Bianca, Nico, Adrestia, and Grover sat off to the side, hoping anyone who passes by assumes they aren't with the school filled with kids who can't make it elsewhere. They ate their chicken alfredo with a side of Moussaka – their mother had kindly sent Grover vegan Mac 'n Cheese – watching the teenage boys pelt pigeons with Lunchable crackers. Nico pats their arms, pointing at Nancy Bobofit attempting to sneakily steal something from a lady's purse, only to be caught and berated by Mrs. Dodds.
"I don't know why she needs to steal," Grover remarks, his mouth full of Mac 'n Cheese. "She's rich, isn't she?"
"She's a kleptomaniac," Bianca tells him with a sigh, her eyes on Nancy as she shakes her head in disappointment. "I don't think she can help it."
"Still," Nico says, gulping down his food before continuing. "How can you be rich and feel like stealing?"
"The same way you can be poor and burn away money you don't have," Adrestia answers, watching Nancy be forced to apologize to the woman she tried to steal from, a corner of her mouth lifting into a satisfied smirk.
Dark clouds rumble overhead, thunder booming in the distance. Swirling her fork in her pasta, Adrestia asks, "Have any of you noticed how weird the weather has been lately?"
The others look up, watching as the clouds light up every few seconds and steadily block out the sky. Since Christmas, New York State has been experiencing a wide variety of weather. Flooding, snow storms so big they take down phone lines, and wildfires from lightning strikes. It wouldn't be so crazy if it wasn't happening in one place, but it was. Strangely, no one seemed to notice.
Bianca turns to them. "Last week, I was walking across campus, heading to the cafe for some lunch, when, out of nowhere, lightning hit the ground right in front of me. There were, like, zero clouds in the sky – except maybe for a tiny one – and it just appeared. It was so close, I could swear it was aiming for me."
"Maybe Moses came back," Adrestia quips, her smirk turning to amusement.
"Yeah," Nico chuckles. "Or maybe God just had enough of seeing your ugly face."
Their chuckles turn to laughter as they take light jabs at each other, almost choking on their food. It had been such a stressful time for them the last several months that it felt nice to laugh for once.
"Or a more likely scenario," came an annoying voice, "is that God wants to punish you losers for existing."
Nancy Bobofit and her friends had appeared in front of them, hell-bent on getting some form of entertainment.
As always, Adrestia's wit didn't falter. "Must you speak?" she asks, a brow raised. "You shouldn't overwork that one brain cell of yours."
Nancy's friends hide their sniggers behind their hands, their leader's confident expression faltering slightly. "Good one, 'Desti," Nico mutters with a grin.
Nancy turned on him. "Shut up, fag!" she growls. Bianca's face drops to barely concealed anger; she never liked it when people oppress her brother for being gay.
"Oh, fag," Nico mocks, a hint of amusement in his voice. "How original. You bully as well as you steal."
Her face starts to turn red from frustration.
"You know, Nancy," Grover starts, feeling a bit brave. "Instead of worrying about how you look, I think you should worry more about your terrible personality."
Nancy's friends couldn't control their laughter anymore. The red-faced and curly haired girl pivots towards Grover, and she screams, raising her hand, "Shut up, you crippled freak!" Nancy's arm rears back, stiff as it propels forward, aiming for his cheek and –
Fear contorts her face, eyebrows rising to her forehead as Adrestia towered over her. The taller girl's expression is as dark and threatening as a storm above a violent sea, her grip on Nancy's wrist painfully tight. A slight whimper leaves Nancy's lips as a grin grows on Adrestia's face, the kind where a person is trying to pass off as friendly but the murderous glint in their eye gives them away. Her voice is a whisper, sickly sweet as she speaks.
"Careful, Nancy. I'm not afraid of jail."
She gulps down a breath. "I-I'll tell on you."
"Go ahead. Mrs. Dodds and Mr. Brunner can't make it here fast enough to save you."
Nancy glances at Bianca, Nico, and Grover, silently begging them for help. However, the three offered no sympathy. The Di Angelo siblings' brown eyes appeared demonic under the blackening skies, the air dropping to below freezing around them. She could swear the smallest bits of frost popped up at their feet.
"Don't poke the bear if you know you're not going to survive its attack," Bianca advises, giving Adrestia a nod that made her let go of Nancy's wrist and plop down beside Grover.
Nancy pulls her wrist to her chest, checking to see if it was damaged. "Yeah, well, at least I have my family's last name," Nancy retorted, determined to come out on top.
"Your family is stuck with you," Nico points out bluntly. "Sally chose us."
Nancy scoffs with a roll of her eyes. She turns, muttering, "I wonder how many men that bitch serviced this week just to pay your tuition."
That did it.
Much like Sandy Cheeks after Spongebob and Patrick insulted Texas, Bianca, Nico, and Adrestia did not react kindly to their mother being insulted. If it wasn't for the Di Angelo siblings' birth father paying child support, Sally would've worked herself dead to give them a good life.
Adrestia abruptly stands, towering over the kleptomaniac girl once more, a blinding, protective rage emanating from her. It was clear and overwhelming, like an enemy pounding at the door or a tsunami drawing closer to the shore. Nancy wanted to stand her ground. She tried to act like she could take on Adrestia. However, she'll find that more challenging than she expected.
In a matter of three, confusing seconds, Nancy finds herself soaking wet in the fountain, spluttering as she sits up.
"Adrestia pushed me!" She cried, pointing at Adrestia.
A crowd gathered. They glanced from the fountain, to Nancy, to Adrestia with a mixture of shock and bewilderment. "Did you see –" they whispered.
"– the water –"
"– like it grabbed her –"
Adrestia turns to her siblings, who share her confusion. They couldn't believe what she had done, or what she hadn't done. They could all swear the water had, indeed, jumped out and pulled Nancy into the fountain, but it had happened so fast they assumed they were imagining it.
None of them noticed realization washing over Grover, or the fear that replaced it when he looked at Mrs Dodds, who's eyes glowed as she lifted a finger to her lips.
