Chapter 2

Two: The Locker Room

           

            At least the bus ride wasn’t entirely terrible.

            Aiden was first to be picked up, followed by Kirk who promptly took a seat next to him so that they could compare schedules one more time.

            “Hey, Kirk, do you run track by any chance?” Aiden asked sarcastically.

            Kirk laughed.  He was wearing his favorite track jumpsuit, complete with the jacket that bore his name on the back, and a matching wrist band.  He also sported a brand new pair of Puma shoes and his wavy, dirty blonde hair was perfectly pushed out of his face with his sweatband.  In a way, he looked a bit eccentric, but there was no denying that he was quite good looking.

            “Well, I’m just trying to stand out today.  You know how boring the first day of school is… nothing exciting ever happens,” said Kirk.

            “Yeah, that’s true,” said Aiden.

            Kirk whipped out his schedule from his drawstring bag and unfolded it.  “Our Homeroom is in Seven hall again this year.  Hopefully our lockers will be in the middle of the school like they were last year, which was nice.  And then we split for English and meet up again for Chemistry and Gym.  Where do you wanna meet for that?”

            “I don’t know,” said Aiden. “I’ve got English in Four hall, if that helps, but I have no idea where our Chem room is.”

            “It’s in Eight hall.  Angela used to have a locker at the end of Six and you could see the Science rooms from there,” said Kirk.

“Man, still finding ways to bring her up aren’t you?  You really gotta let that go.  It’s been almost four months.”

Angela was Kirk’s old girlfriend of about ten months.  She was captain of the cheerleading squad and the best flier the school had to offer.  Considering Kirk was a star track runner, they actually made a good pair.  Aiden never knew why they even broke up and just couldn’t understand why it bothered Kirk so much.  He could have any girl in the school if he tried.

Kirk said nothing and faced the window.

“Okay, why don’t you just meet me in Four hall outside of my class and we can walk then.  Good?” asked Aiden.

“Yeah.”

The rest of the bus ride was awkward, to say the least.  Neither of them could keep a conversation moving.  Kirk mostly stared out the window while Aiden pretended to polish his gold ring, a typical act for when he was feeling awkward.  Aiden figured that he’d hit a sore spot when he mentioned Angela.  Sometimes Kirk was a little too sensitive, especially when it came to girls.

After Homeroom, they split off to go to their first class.  Kirk was already in much better spirits, having received a lot of attention for his outfit.  That was the thing about Kirk; things just seemed to go his way all of the time.

“See you in a bit,” said Aiden.

“Yep! I’ll hurry over after the bell,” called Kirk.

Aiden’s first period English class was hardly worth remembering.  Consistent with his usual bad luck, he didn’t know anyone and got stuck sitting in the front of the room by himself.  His teacher, Mrs. Prang, didn’t improve his situation either.  She was about eight months pregnant and her mood swings were blatantly obvious.  She also seemed to think that she was absolutely hilarious, even when nobody laughed at her jokes.

Aiden figured that if English was that bad, it could only mean that Chemistry would be a little bit better.

Maybe.

Probably not.

Definitely not.

Aiden barely had to wait a full minute for Kirk.

“Hey.  This way, let’s hurry and get good seats,” said Kirk, grinning.

The two rounded the corner into Eight hall which was much different from the others.  It was obvious that this hallway was constructed as an addition years after the school had already been erected.  The hall was enormous, bereft of lockers but clad in various glass cases that sported school trophies and other rewards.  Aiden paused as they passed a trophy that was larger than he was, bearing a plaque that read, “2005 National Chemical Compound Competition – 1^st Place – E. Hazzlok and Class.”  Fearful of falling behind, he hurried himself to catch up to Kirk, wading through thick odors on his way; one of the Science teachers was clearly not wasting any time in demonstrating experiments.

“Alright, I think this is the one,” Kirk chimed as they reached the end of the hallway.

The classroom was much bigger than he had expected.  It was large enough to hold fourteen lab tables, thirty two cabinets, an emergency shower station, seven Bunsen Burners, a long counter top near the white board, and an odd looking storage closet that seemed out of place.  The two took their seats at a table on the right side of the classroom not far from the closet.  A few more students filed into the classroom and then the bell rang.

 For a moment, the class sat in silence, waiting and wondering where their teacher might be.  Aiden leaned back in his chair for a second and nearly fell over from the noise that erupted from his right.

 The storage closet door swung open violently and a tall, well-dressed man emerged.  He walked quickly, but gracefully, to the front of the classroom with a slight click from his dress shoes scraping the tile floor. His long, jet black hair remained cemented to his head.  He took his place in front of the counter top, fixed his glasses, and drew a marker from his breast pocket.  Nobody said a word as he spun around, his frilly white dress shirt swishing as he moved, and began to write on the board. 

Seconds later, a cursive “Mr. Hazzlok” made a bold appearance in front of him.  Aiden instantly recognized the name from trophy in the hallway.

“Hey, Kirk, this guy’s name was on that huge –“

“I don’t think it would be wise for you to break the silence on the first day in my class, young man,” said Mr. Hazzlok with his nose stiffly pointed into the air.  He drew a small pen-like object from his rear pocket and pulled it apart like the end of a straw to form a pointer.  He whipped it toward the white board and underlined his name. 

“… Mr. Hazzlok.  I do not prefer Mr. H or any other derivation of my name.  I am not a fan of aliases, so you will all do well to remember me as such.”

Aiden could tell that he was not going to like him already.  Within two minutes, he had already shown that he was snobby, strange, and short tempered, not to mention that this man had called him out in front of a group of people that he would be sharing classes with for the next nine months.

“Welcome to tenth grade Chemistry.  We will go over classroom safety procedures tomorrow, assign lab partners and such at a later date, and talk about what makes Chemistry better than Biology whenever we please”

A few students gave a fake laugh, which seemed to please Mr. Hazzlok. His stone face broke into a half smile.

“This year is going to be fun.  We are going to mix things, make colorful liquids that can melt metal, create great flames and fumes, and most importantly, we – will – blow – things – up!”

It seemed like every head in the room was turning toward its neighbor’s with wide eyes and excited faces.  Suddenly, Mr. Hazzlok didn’t seem so bad.

“Unfortunately, because it is the first day of school, I am required, by the state, to fully explain the syllabus.  Bear with me for it is slightly long… You, the one who tried to rob me of classroom control just a few moments ago, pass it out for me,” he said, leering at Aiden.

That’s twice now that Hazzlok had singled him out.  Aiden felt heavy as he stood up, as if all of the eyes in the room were glued to his back.  He decided that he was going to be defiant and not let this teacher get the best of him.  He didn’t want to start the year on the wrong foot.  He boldly took the papers from Mr. Hazzlok, who suddenly seemed much taller up close than he appeared from across the room, and handed a packet to all twenty eight students.  Aiden took his seat and Hazzlok began to go over the syllabus.

To say the least, Mr. Hazzlok was quite a unique teacher.  He spoke much differently than Aiden was used to.  It was almost like he was too proper.  His grammar was perfect, his word choice was sometimes odd and outdated, and he had a slight hint of an eighteenth century London accent.  His posture was perfect and he moved as if he were an actor on a stage.  Despite all of this, Aiden could not help but dislike him.  And judging by how Hazzlok had treated him earlier, the feeling was mutual. 

Aiden began to zone out, but was brought back when Hazzlok’s pointer smacked the table in the front of the room.

“Also, although this is not on the syllabus, I would like to add that there is no such thing as falling behind in my class.  You are all expected to do every assignment that I give and if you fail to do well on exams, you will be required to stay after school with me to improve.  Is that clear?”

A few students mumbled their approval.  Some nodded their heads.  Aiden shook his own in disgust.  He loathed this man.  It was time to get out.

And he was quite right.  The bell chirped furiously through the classroom as his classmates made their way to the door.

“I shall see you all on the morrow,” called Hazzlok.  “And next class you will leave when I dismiss you, not the bell!”

Everyone filed out of the classroom, Aiden and Kirk in the back of the mob.

“Well, guess we know which class is gonna suck the worst already,” said Aiden as they made their way back through Four Hall.

“Ah, come on, man.  You’re just mad because he called you out.  It won’t be that bad.”

“Are you kidding?  Were you even paying attention?  He’s so arrogant I could scream.  And you know I’m going to be screwed with his exams.  I’ll have to stay after thirty six times a week.”

Kirk laughed. “Okay, Mr. Three Point Nine Five GPA.  Yeah, you’re so screwed…”

“Nine four, but whatever.  He hates me already!”

Kirk shrugged.  “Just suck up to him next class or something.  I don’t know, man.”

They soon reached the door to the locker room and pulled it open.  The smell of sweat, body odor, and powerful deodorant already tainted the air.  Aiden could feel his nose crinkling involuntarily.  The smell was awful.

Aiden found his locker from last year and stuck his padlock on it, claiming it as his own.  Kirk’s was also vacant so he did the same.

“Well, judging by the stink in this room, I’d say we’re doing a little more than just stretching and jumping jacks today,” said Aiden.

“I’m really hoping it’s dodge ball or something exciting.  I’d even take soccer today… my first class was a snooze-fest,” said Kirk as he slipped on his gym clothes.

“Yeah, I’ll second that!” called a voice from behind them. 

Aiden and Kirk whipped around to see their long-time friend Dylan Criss.  Dylan looked much like Kirk, except that he had very prominent buck teeth and a rather large mole on his cheek.  He was thin with a muscular chest and broad shoulders from a few years of BMX riding.  Dylan loved to make jokes and stir up trouble in his classes so he was always a ball of fun.

“Yo! I thought we weren’t going to have classes together this year, what’s up?” Aiden said with a smirk.

“They had me in the wrong History class so they had to rework my whole schedule this morning.  Kind of annoying, but now I feel way better!” He grinned and handed Aiden his new schedule.

“Awesome! We’ve got Latin, Lunch, History, and Graphic Design together!” said Aiden.

“Looks like a good year for us,” said Kirk, beaming. 

The three exchanged high fives and exited the locker room.  They moved out into the huge open floor, scanning the gymnasium for any hint of what they might be doing. 

The basketball nets were raised to the ceiling and inaccessible, there were no cones laid out, and no bases or nets set up.  Aiden groaned and the three took a seat on the cold, wood floor.  He gazed aimlessly around the room while Kirk and Dylan discussed Track and Field stuff.  Everyone seemed to be coming in from the locker rooms now. 

At first it began as a secretive glance and then immediately evolved into an obvious fixation.

Aiden’s eyes were locked on to the short, blonde girl who was making her way over to him. 

He was mesmerized.  Her perfect hair was pulled back in a pony tail, revealing her icy-blue eyes and smooth, pale face.  She had the body of a ballet dancer and moved with the grace of one.  No, she didn’t just move.  It was more like gliding, like a figure skater.  She carried herself so confidently.

He couldn’t stop staring at her.  There were a million pretty blonde haired girls at Eastern, but she seemed different, somehow.  Aiden felt nervous and excited, like he was at the top of a roller coaster.  As she fixed her hair, he noticed a flash of a gold ring on her left hand, much like the one that he wore. He was smiling bigger than ever.

She was looking at him, too.  She blushed.

Was she coming to talk to him?

It seemed too good to be true, and it was.  A hand waved in front of his face and he turned around.  Kirk and Dylan were laughing.

“Got your eye on the new girl there, Champ?” Dylan taunted.

“Wha-what? She’s new?” stammered Aiden.

“Yep.  She was just in my English class.  Said she just moved here a few weeks ago.” Kirk chimed.  “Really quiet, though.”

Afraid of being further provoked by Dylan, Aiden pointed to the door that their teacher, Mr. Bunkley, emerged from.  He was a tall, fit man in his late twenties, who strode with sort of a lazy swagger.  He had a fine-trimmed goatee that made him look cockier than he already was.

“Ooookay,” he bellowed in a drawn-out voice that echoed off of the bleachers.

“Start stretchin’ while I do attendance.  Let’s see here… Kirk Acari! … Laura Adonis! … Alyssa Berkheiser! … Aiden Brande! …  Myriah Conway!”

Aiden’s insides began to scramble when the pretty blonde haired girl raised her hand.

Myriah Conway… what a pretty name, he thought.  It just had an easy flow to it.  She was fascinating.  Kirk made her out to be quiet and shy, but for being new to the school, she looked quite comfortable.

Bunkley finished roll call and yanked a large, mesh sack out of the storage closet and Kirk leapt to his feet.  Sure enough, an assortment of colorful, squishy dodge balls could be seen through it.

“Line up for teams!”

Before Aiden, Kirk, and Dylan could guess at how the teams were being split, it was too late.  Bunkley was going down the line, alternating between team one and team two.  Aiden and Dylan found a home on team one while Kirk was hung up on team two with what seemed like way more girls than boys.

“Ha! That’s fine.  Gives our all-star a handicap,” Dylan whispered to Aiden excitedly.

Bunkley tossed five balls to each team and a warzone of blurred colors erupted.  Aiden was on his toes, determined to beat his best friend on the first day of Gym.  A ball shot out from Kirk’s hand like a cannon and whizzed its way past Aiden’s ear as he ducked just in time.  Before he could regain his balance, he was forced to dive to his left to evade the incoming assault.  As his body smacked the cold, hard floor, he saw one of the school’s baseball players, Devon Buterick, lock his eyes on Aiden’s exposed body and he began to wind up.  Trapped, he stuck his arms out… he had no other choice; he had to catch this one.

            The ball zoomed toward him so quickly it seemed like it defied space and time.  Aiden felt it rebound off of his fingertips and soar into the air behind him.  He barrel rolled backward on the floor as if he were trying to put out a fire and caught it with one arm outstretched.

“Nice, dude!” whooped Dylan as he gave an encouraging clap.

“Nice moves, Brande!” called Devon who was immediately whistled to the sideline.

Aiden was so caught up in his spectacular display that he barely noticed how many people had already been eliminated.  It was now a four on four.  Aiden, Dylan, and two cute girls who had managed to avoid being knocked out solely because of their good looks remained on one side.  On the other, Kirk, a red-haired girl, and two blondes, one of whom was Myriah, remained.

“Come on, knock the chicks out!” called a voice from the sidelines.

The remaining players seemed to comply because four balls immediately connected with one of the girls from Aiden’s team.  Dylan pegged the red-haired girl while Aiden snatched up a red ball with his sights set on Myriah.  Maybe if he didn’t hit her too hard he could make a flirty apology later.  He wound up his arm and released.  His aim was perfect, but his power was nearly non-existent.  The ball fell short of her by a full five feet.

            Whoops… too light, he thought to himself, and apparently everyone else thought so too as the whole sideline erupted in laughter.  Aiden found himself next to Dylan.

“Hey man, I know she’s cute and all but I wanna win this thing.  Get her out,” he panted.

Myriah scooped up the blue ball by her feet that had bounced off of the girl next to her, and squared up at Aiden.  He was ready for it.  Surprisingly, the ball flew from her hands with great velocity but, strangely enough, dropped short a few feet from his ankles.

 It was two on two, finally.  Kirk and Dylan had obviously set a focus on each other, leaving Aiden and Myriah to duel.  They reared up simultaneously and threw, both with much greater force this time. 

It was pathetic.

It looked like they both pitched with their off-hand.  Both balls missed their marks wide left.  Aiden was quickly losing his temper.  Sweat began to drip down his forehead.  Myriah seemed just as aggravated.  With teeth clenched, they both ran to a new ball for round three. 

At the same time, they threw again even harder and their throws fizzled out once more.  Aiden’s shoulder pinched from the force of his toss.  He looked to his left just in time to see Dylan and Kirk nail each other in the chest.  Kirk stamped his foot on the ground and cursed under his breath as he took his place on the sideline.

Aiden’s fury was now mingling with nervousness.  He and Myriah were the last two standing and all eyes were on him as the favored winner.  He tossed two balls at her in rapid succession and she barely needed to move to dodge them.

“I think someone’s got a crush!” mocked a voice.

Crush or not, Aiden could not fathom why he could not strike her. He was playing as if his life depended on it.  A lone ball sat motionless on the center line.  He saw Myriah start for it and he quickly followed suit.  They drew near the center and their eyes met as they reached for the single ball. 

Her eyes, like solid spheres of ice, pierced his very gaze and a chill encumbered him.

He felt his legs give out a little. 

It suddenly felt like he had not eaten in days. 

What seemed like hours translated to a silent and motionless two seconds where both remained fixated on one another.

Aiden and Myriah’s knees each buckled and they fell to their backsides.  Fury and confusion quickly came over Aiden.  Fearful of being taunted, he immediately rolled over and clutched his ankle, feigning an injury.

“Hey! Easy you two!” barked Mr. Bunkley.

Aiden scrunched his face up, pretending to be in pain.  It must have been pretty convincing because Dylan and Kirk were immediately at his side.  A few other boys came over to help Myriah up but she brushed them off and stood up on her own.  Aiden’s eyes met hers and he saw a hundred different things in those deep cerulean cesspools. 

Anger.  Sadness.  Mystery.  Confusion.  And most of all, fear. 

She looked at him as if he had just threatened to murder her and she ran toward the locker room.  Aiden hung himself on Dylan and Kirk’s shoulders and hobbled his way over to the Boys’ room.  Once inside, they propped him down on a changing bench.

“You alright, man?” asked Kirk.
 “Fine,” Aiden said, clenching his jaw.
 “That was the weirdest looking-“
 “I know! Go ahead.  Mock me for losing to a girl!  Just go keep playing…”

Dylan looked like he was about to say something when Kirk put a hand on his shoulder and redirected him to the exit.  The two left Aiden alone in the locker room.  When he heard the door shut, his anger consumed him. 

Ugh!  Why me!?

He punched his locker as rage swept over him like a tidal wave. 
 Again he struck the locker and the clang of the metal echoed throughout the hollow room. 
 Another blow.

And then, something incredible happened.  He slammed his fist and tried to rip the padlock off.  A surge of heat filled his body and his hands felt like they were burning.  Maybe it was from punching the locker, or maybe it was because his hands were literally engulfed in flames.  Liquid metal that had once been a solid padlock oozed from the webbing of his fingers.

Horror and panic flooded his mind.  He was paralyzed with fear.

The padlock that he had put on his locker no more than twenty minutes ago was now completely unrecognizable.  A puddle of a black and grey metallic substance stained the tiled floor.

His hands were still on fire, the light reflecting brightly off of his gold ring.

Why wasn’t the ring melting?

Never mind that, why didn’t this fire hurt?

He stared at his hands is complete shock.  Maybe he was too shocked to feel pain.  Was he hallucinating?

Aiden bolted over to the sinks and turned the cold water on, full blast, and stuck his hands under.

The pain was unbearable.  Now it really did feel like his hands were burning.  But there wasn’t any steam.  In fact, the fire wasn’t even being doused in the slightest.  He was running out of ideas.

Should he scream for help?

 He tried waving his arms to put out the flames but that only seemed to make them grow larger.  He ran aimlessly around the locker room flapping his arms like a bird.  The wooden bench next to him began to blacken and smoke like a campfire.

Aiden’s body was a complete inferno.  He was surely going to die.

 In a matter of seconds, the fire alarm had begun screaming and the sprinklers activated above his head.  Jets of water shot at him like liquid shotgun shells, and they felt like it, too.  Aiden roared in agony as he ran for the exit, he had to get out of here. 

He whipped the door open in time to see Mr. Bunkley, Dylan, and Kirk running at him.  The whole gym had stopped what they were doing.  Kirk stifled a scream as he watched what was left of the flames burn out on Aiden’s body. Before Aiden could say a word, his soaking wet body slapped the gymnasium floor and everything turned black.

Chapter 1 (Part 2)

Chapter 1.2

            Sunlight finally broke through the window and Aiden’s eyes shot open.  He rolled over and stretched under the blankets, nearly knocking his snoozing cat off the bed, who took off at a run.  He sat up and matted down the thick chunks of gingery-brown hair that stood erect on his head and rubbed the crust from the corner of his eyes.  Grudgingly, he slipped out of bed and pulled on some athletic shorts and a T-shirt and trudged down the hall to the kitchen to make some breakfast.

            As soon as he reached the table his heart sank.  The calendar on the wall to his left read “31 August,” which meant that this was Aiden’s last day of summer vacation, his last day of freedom.

            Over at the stove, his mother, Lauren, was whipping scrambled eggs together while tending to toast and bacon.  Lauren was a middle-aged woman with curly black locks and fair skin.  She stood just about the same height as Aiden and was very thin, as she always had been.  Her short-trimmed, square glasses were pressed against her tiny nose, not moving an inch as she bowed her head over the stove.  She turned around and made eye contact with Aiden, but hesitated to say anything just yet.

            Aiden flopped down into an empty seat at the counter and heaved a great sigh.  The thought of beginning his sophomore year at Eastern Regional High School was absolutely terrifying.  As teachers and his parents liked to say, this would be the first year of the rest of his life, the year that he would take his first big steps into adulthood.

             But Aiden was not ready to grow up just yet.  He wouldn’t even be turning sixteen for another two months.  He didn’t want to have to think about responsibilities or his future just yet.  However, his mother made this nearly impossible.

            She gave him plenty to think about.  She said it was her way of preparing him for what’s to come so that he could stay calm and be successful.  It didn’t work out in her favor, though.  All it did was make Aiden more nervous and stressed.

            Lauren finally broke the silence. “Do you want anything besides what I’m making?”

            “No, this is fine,” said Aiden.

            Lauren turned the bacon over and sidestepped to avoid getting hit by the hot grease that popped furiously in the pan.

            “I was thinking that we could go shopping after breakfast and get some last minute school things.  I’ve got a couple of coupons that I’d like to use before they expire,” said Lauren.

            Aiden sighed and gave a half of a laugh to hide the annoyance in his tone. “Mom, we’ve gone through this a hundred times already.  I have everything I need.  Honestly, this year won’t be much different than last year.”

            Lauren gave a sarcastic laugh. “Oh, really?  Then I guess college only exists in Fairytale Land and the SAT test was created by the government solely to torture teenagers like you.”

            “That’s not what I meant, Mom.”

            “I know, Aiden.  But you have to think about this kind of stuff.  I don’t hound on you because I like to, you know.”

            “Yeah, but college is, like, three years away…”

            “Good grades this year means advanced placement next year and then Advanced Proficiency courses your senior year, which count as college credits.  Wouldn’t you rather work a little bit harder now instead of really busting your butt your first year of college?”

            Aiden really wanted to say “no,” but he knew if he did that it would mean an even longer lecture from his mother.  When she got going like this, there was usually no stopping her until Aiden felt guilty enough to give in and agree with her.  He could never win.

            She handed him a plate of eggs and bacon and turned to collect the toast.  “So, what are you going to do today since we’re not going shopping?” she said.

            “I don’t know.  Might try to get a Frisbee game going or something.  I kind of want to enjoy my last day of summer since it’s my last day to be a kid,” he said somewhat mockingly.

            “Well, maybe it is, Aiden.  It’s almost time for you to get a job.  Even if some school things are up in the air, the odds of you getting a car are one hundred percent, and they don’t pay for themselves.  You’ll have about a year to get enough to pay for most of a used car.  There is only so much your father and I can help you with.”

            Aiden said nothing.  He wanted to get out of the kitchen as soon as possible because he simply did not want to talk about his future anymore.  Sometimes he wished that he could just live in a fantasy world where nobody had to grow up and be responsible.  He quickly finished his breakfast and left the table.

            Back in his room, he grabbed his Frisbee and his cell phone and slipped on a pair of ratty sneakers, then went back to the kitchen.  Still annoyed with his mother, he made his goodbye quite short.  “I’m going to Kirk’s.  I have my phone on me,” he said.

            Lauren nodded as she cleaned the table.  Aiden turned, picked up his skateboard next to the front door, and left the house.  He figured it would be rude to show up at Kirk’s without warning so he pulled out his phone and sent him a text.

          Mom’s annoying me.  Heading over to your place. Frisbee?

            His ride to Kirk’s was pleasant as always.  The roads were flat but winding and he lived only a few minutes away if Aiden traveled by skateboard.  Kirk was Aiden’s best friend, despite the fact that the two were pretty different people.  One was always significantly better than the other at something.  However, Aiden sometimes thought that he was just average and that Kirk was better than he was at everything.

            He reached the front of Kirk’s dumpy, old house and rapped three times on the weather-beaten door.  Mr. Acari answered the knocks.  He was extremely tall and towered over Aiden, but was about as intimidating as a teddy bear.  He wore a blonde goatee to cover up his boyish face.

            “Hey, Aiden, what’s up?  Kirk’s just finishing up his summer reading project in his room.  You can come in if you’d like,” he said.

            Before Aiden could respond or even set a foot through the front door, Kirk was already there ushering him back out on to the front walk.  This was a normal occurrence because Kirk was thoroughly embarrassed by the condition of the inside of his house.

            “Hey, got your text.  I’m up for a game,” Kirk said with a grin.  He had two water bottles in hand and gave one to Aiden.  “I’ll be back later!” he called as he turned and waved to Mr. Acari.

            The two started walking to the park down the street from Kirk’s house.  Neither spoke yet as they were busy sending texts to others in an attempt to make a pick-up game.  After a minute, Aiden stuffed his phone into his pocket and looked at Kirk.

            “Thanks.  Mom got into school mode and I just didn’t want to hear it.  Not on the last day of summer,” he said.

            “I know, man.  You’d think I’d committed a crime or something with the way my parents had me locked up doing my summer reading this weekend.  And the lectures on how important this year is going to be… I could vomit,” said Kirk.

            “It seems to be a trend among parents, I guess.  But whatever.  Who did you invite for the pick-up game?” said Aiden.

            “The usual.  Dylan, Ray, Andrew.  Few others.  We’re bound to get a couple of them to play.  It’s too nice out to sit inside.”

            They quickly reached the park and set their water bottles on one of the picnic tables and Aiden dumped his skateboard underneath a bench.  The place was deserted so they had the whole field to themselves.  Kirk jogged away and held up his hands for a pass.  Aiden obliged and sent the disc flying in his direction.

            They tossed back and forth for a while, forcing each other to make a great effort for a catch.  Kirk was a much better thrower than he was.  He threw with such style and could make it look simple no matter what type of throw he did.  Left-handed throws, hammer throws, flicks, and even left-handed flicks.  It was almost as if he had control of the wind.  After half an hour, the two sat down on a nearby bench, tapped in to their water bottles, and checked their phones.

            “I got a bunch of nothing.  How about you?” asked Aiden.

            “Same. Everyone’s doing their summer reading it seems like.”  Kirk sighed.  “I really wanted to do something other than think about school.”

            “Well, I guess it won’t be that bad this year.  I mean, you and I actually have a few classes together this time around.  And anything is better than last year,” said Aiden.

            Aiden’s freshman year was a complete train wreck.  He had zero classes with Kirk and hardly had any other friends.  His teachers all seemed to dislike him and graded him a bit unfairly.  It was the first time in his life that he received anything lower than ninety three on his report card and his mother threw a fit.  Not to mention that he had broken his left ankle and couldn’t skateboard for two months last Spring.

            “Yeah… come on; let’s work on your hammer throws.  They still sink too early,” said Kirk.

            Aiden and Kirk spent the remainder of the day working on trick throws and walking the town to enjoy their final day of being stress-free.  Dinner time approached and they decided to call it quits.

            “See you tomorrow, bright and early,” called Kirk as Aiden made his way home.

            Aiden entered his house to find Lauren sitting on the couch, reading.

            “Your father’s on his way home.  He’s picking up a pizza for dinner if you’re interested,” she said.

            “Maybe.  Kirk and I ate not too long ago,” he replied.  While this was true, Aiden really just didn’t want to eat dinner with his parents so he could avoid another speech about his sophomore year.  If he had to hear “that he should go to college to get a good job so that he doesn’t have to work long hours like his father” one more time, he was going to lose it.  “I’m going to take a shower,” he said.

            Aiden loved taking long showers.  The warm water was relaxing and it was his time to be alone and think about things in peace.  Tonight, however, his thoughts were clouded by what was to come tomorrow.  He could not shake what his mother had been telling him.  Instead of taking his time, he washed quickly and got out.

            In his towel, he wiped the steam covered mirror to look at himself.  He saw an average boy with an average looking body and an average looking face staring back at him.  He didn’t have too many unique features.  Except maybe his hair.  Mostly red with tawny shades and very thick.  For a red head, he had no freckles splashed across his face to speak of.  Instead, he had a clear, baby soft face which was actually quite handsome.

            A thought struck him.  What if Lauren pressured him about school so much because she knew that it was the only thing that he was good at?  Top of his class, but no other qualities to boast about.  He wasn’t a sports star like his best friend.  His musical talent wasn’t anything special.  His creativity and artistic ability were subpar.  Maybe she thought that he was meant to lead an average life.  It was fitting, though; his life was not very exciting.  Feeling down, he went to his room, dripping water behind him along the hallway.

            He slipped on a pair of sweatpants and tossed himself on to his bed.  He scanned his room, truly looking at his walls.  Pictures and posters of professional skateboarders, video games, book series, and musicians were tacked up on nearly every inch of the white walls.  How nice it would be to travel the world as a skater or a guitarist.  How wonderful it would be to be the main character of a book or video game that was destined to save the world.  But life was not a fantasy that he sought after.  It was reality, and he had to face it whether he liked it or not.

            In his mind he could hear his mother’s voice, tomorrow is the first day of the rest of your life.  Part of him knew that she was right, but he didn’t want her to be.  He wasn’t ready for it, and maybe he didn’t need to be.

 After all, it was still the same school that he knew last year, the same people who would treat him the same way, and the same horrible teachers who would horribly teach.  And he would go on, day by day, living his boring, uneventful life.  He was destined to be average, and it was time to accept it.

            He drifted off into sleep, oblivious to the fact that, after tomorrow, he would realize just how wrong he was.

Chapter 1

“We live in a wonderful world that is full of beauty, charm, and adventure. There is no end to the adventures that we can have if only we seek them with our eyes open.” 
-Jawaharlal Nehru

“That's the thing with magic. You've got to know it's still here, all around us, or it just stays invisible for you.”    -Charles de Lint

                                                                One: The Conference

            It was August the thirty-first, which meant that the annual Scouting Conference would take place in the amphitheatre at Headquarters at noon and Ether was already five minutes late.  He, like many others it seemed, waited until the last minute to take his teleporter and experienced a great deal of portal traffic. When he materialized in the Portal room, it was completely deserted; his portal must have been the last one to go through authorization.  Ether wrenched open the cold, iron door of the Portal Room and bolted down the hallway in the direction of the amphitheatre, the soles of his dress shoes reverberating loudly off of the marble floor.

            Panting, he reached the black double doors and paused to fix himself up.  If he was going to show up fashionably late, he may as well look presentable.  He brushed off his black dress pants, straightened his coattails, adjusted his glasses, and finger-brushed his silky, shoulder-length, dark hair.  Maybe if he entered extra quietly he wouldn’t make too much of a disturbance and Mr. Raine would reconsider the pay cut penalty for tardiness.  Ether took a deep breath and inched the door open, sweat staining his palms.

            An unnatural noise issued through the crack in the double doors.  It was loud and choppy and seemed to continue longer than it should, considering the soundproof walls that coated the amphitheatre.  Slowly, cautiously, he continued pushing it open only to find that the Conference had not started yet.  The choppy, continuous noise he had heard was the amalgamation of several side conversations.  The podium in the center of the stage was empty.  Something didn’t seem right.

            “Hey, Ether, need a seat?” called a familiar voice.

            Ether turned to his left to see the hands of Jeff Klavis gesturing to the seat next to him in the very last row.  Jeff’s mailbox at Headquarters was three away from Ether’s so the two would talk occasionally during morning check-in.  There was no better way to put it; Jeff looked very much like a ghoul.  He was thin, pale, and was always hunched over, making him look a few inches shorter than he really was.

            “Ah, good afternoon, Jeff,” said Ether taking the open seat.  “Where is Mr. Raine?”

            “Don’t know.  Late, looks like.  Things ‘a been pretty crazy ‘round here lately.  Coupla’ people been comin’ in with mismatched shoes and such.  Wouldn’t be surprised if ol’ Raine’s havin’ a day himself,” he grunted.

            Ether drummed his fingers on his knees nervously.  He knew all too well why Headquarters was in such a state.  Instinctively, he cleared his mind and changed the subject.

            “So, excited to start the new school year?” asked Ether.  Jeff assumed the role of a high school principal in South Carolina in order to fulfill his duties as a Scout.

            “Nah, not really.  Them kids get rowdier n’ rowdier every year.  I swear I spend more time givin’ out detentions to lower classmen than lookin’ for potential mages.  That ain’t somethin’ Raine would like to hear, so don’t go repeatin’ that anywhere.  Only had one come out last year.  Turned a classroom into a small tornado in a fit of rage over a poor test grade.  You can imagine how difficult that was to pass off as an air conditionin’ malfunction,” said Jeff.

            “Yes, that sounds terrible.  At least it was exciting,” said Ether.

            Jeff clicked his tongue in disapproval.  “Ha! Exciting, good one!  More like total pain in the rear.  All the questionin’ and paperwork… you know how it is.  You’re in a school, too, ain’t ya?”

            “Yes, what a hassle it is,” he lied.  It was half true, as a matter of fact.  Ether was a Scout in a high school as well; however, he never caught as much as a glimpse of a young mage.  He’d been at his school for nearly four years now and the only bit of magic that ever graced it came from Ether’s own hands.  As of now, he was no different than his colleagues.

            “And you know, the stuff that goes through these kids’ heads is just ridiculous.  You ever Mind Read one to figure out if the little brat’s lyin’ to you or not only to find out that they’re thinkin’ about kissin’ the girl that sits next to ‘em?  It’s just wrong to get those kinds of mental images.  Sometimes I wish we could just be like them guys in Department Two and Department Four, they got it easy.  Let them be a fire mage for a day, they’d never last!” said Jeff.

            Ether was at a loss for a response.  He was quite grateful when the stage door opened and two men emerged, carrying a pitcher of water, a glass, and a hand towel, followed by an older gentleman whose white comb-over was sticking up on end.  Sanford Raine hurried over to the podium and began shuffling through a few papers, obviously flustered and disheveled.  The room fell silent immediately.  It was almost a full minute before Mr. Raine finally opened his microphone and spoke.

            “As you may have noticed, I am a bit late.  Now that we have all acknowledged it, let us move forward.”  Mr. Raine paused to take a sip of water and dab his forehead with the hand towel.  When he brought his hand to his head, it was quite evident that he appeared thinner than usual.  His veins protruded from the wrist a bit too clearly and his skin was quite milky.  He looked as though he just battled the flu for a week with little sleep.  He matted down his hair, stood up straight, and spread out his arms.  “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to our annual Scouting Conference!”

            This was met with the usual applause and Mr. Raine held his hand up to request silence once more.

            “For many of you, I truly hope that you had an excellent summer, as this year is going to be slightly different than previous years.  Different is good, and also dangerous.  And for that, I implore you all to take extra caution in this coming year.”

            An air of uneasiness suddenly clouded the amphitheatre.  Scouts exchanged looks of nervousness and confusion with their neighbors.  Ether knew that the current events were becoming serious, but not serious enough to prompt a new start of the year speech.  Just how much information had they withheld from him?

            “If I may be a bit clearer, let me begin with the basics.  First, as you all know, technology is ever improving and advancing, which only makes our job more difficult.  Expect the unexpected, my friends… hidden cameras, bugged devices, stories being posted on the internet.  It has become increasingly difficult to keep ourselves unknown to the Normals.  We must be more careful than usual.  If the world should learn of our secrets, chaos will reign, war will ensue, and we may find ourselves facing imprisonment and death.  Imagine a world where Normals ordered mages to light fires for them, heal their every illness… slavery.  We are fewer in number and must not forget it.

            “To counter this, I ask you all to Scout with greater attention.  Do not fall into the routine of your assumed careers and treat every day as if you will encounter a young mage.  Being that most of you are in the school districts, be sure to focus on senior classmen, as there has not been a mage under the age of eighteen in nearly two millennia.”

            Mr. Raine took a large gulp of water and cleared his throat.  He took a deep breath and continued.  “Now, there is something else that I must tell you all before we get to our normal list of expectations.  Something that many of you are entirely unaware of.”

            This was it, Ether thought.  Everyone else was going to know what he and Mr. Raine had talked about in private meetings.  Just how much would he tell them?  Ether slid down in his chair hoping to sink into the ground, being very thankful for having a seat in the last row with nobody behind him.

            “Since you are all Scouts, you have your own specific duties that require constant attention.  For this reason, I have chosen not to disclose certain information about this company to you all so that you would not be burdened with such knowledge and stress…until now.  If you have not already heard from others, I will explain exactly what we do.”

            A small murmur moved about the amphitheatre.  People shifted in their seats and Mr. Raine cleared his throat again.

            “This may be more common knowledge than I am aware of, but I must start at the beginning for those who are new or ill-informed.  This company, CIMPLE, has two meanings.  To the Normals, as well as you Scouts, we are known as the Control of Imports and Monitored Production of Legal Exports.  As the name implies, we control everything that goes in and out of the country and have strong ties with the government.  While this is still true, we told you only this in case you were ever given a polygraph screening as a result of severe magical accidents.  However, to the mages, our name stands for the Containment of International Magical Practice and Law Enforcement.”

            Judging by the noiselessness in the room, this new information did not come as a complete shock.  Mr. Raine emptied his glass in one shot and swallowed hard, then continued.

            “CIMPLE has been around since the birth of magic.  There is something just like it in every country and we interact with one another via the import and export system.  The purpose of this is to maintain order among mages and preserve our secrets from the Normals.  We all have a common goal in mind, and for that, we trust one another…”

            Mr. Raine started to look quite uncomfortable.  He hung his head for a second and placed his hands on the sides of the podium, gripping it tightly and leaning heavily on his arms.  He made an unrecognizable sound and then composed himself.

            “That being said, I am somewhat ashamed to say that I have planted a mole at Headquarters in Britain.  However, it now seems that I have exercised good judgment in doing so as a result of recent events.”

            At this point, Ether, a person who was generally able to keep his composure, began to lose it.  His leg shook uncontrollably and he could not keep his hands still enough to the point that Jeff turned his attention to Ether.  He studied him for a second and raised an eyebrow.

            “Y’alright, pal?  Lookin’ a bit green,” said Jeff.

            “Oh, yes.  Fine.  It’s these chairs.  So uncomfortable,” he lied again.

            This must have been an acceptable answer because Jeff merely shrugged and turned his attention back to the front of the room.  Mr. Raine was now speaking more loudly than ever.

            “You see, our spy has reported that over the last few months a mage by the name of Vincent Clarke has been receiving a bit of attention.  He is a high-ranking executive in Britain’s Headquarters under their CEO, and is getting into business that he should not be involved in.  Clarke has been found roaming around all departments and having lengthy conversations with the most random assortment of people.  We believe that he is trying to gain support for something.

            “What you must know is that Vincent Clarke is a powerful man.  He is an extremely powerful mage, capable of magic that takes a lifetime to master, and is also very persuasive.  Put this together with his recent suspicious activity… well, it means nothing good.  I have already alerted the neighboring countries to be on their guard for anything out of the ordinary and we have all agreed to take some new necessary precautions.

            “Firstly, you will all be required to participate in field tests once per month within your department to make sure that your skills are up to par.  Scouts tend to get lax with their abilities and we want to avoid that.  Secondly, we will be taking volunteers to go overseas to help the neighboring countries if they should so ask for it.  Clarke would be foolish to start an uprising and declare war; however, as I noted earlier, we must be prepared for anything. To sign up, simply fill out a form in my secretary’s office and I will add you to the list.

            War.  They were preparing for war.  Ether knew some of the details but did not know it was getting to that point.  He had no idea what to expect of a mage’s war.  What would it take to go that far?  How many lives would be lost? All because of one man.

            A new thought began to claw at his insides.  Is this all my fault?  Is this all because I-.  But Ether did not have time to finish this thought.  The stage door burst open and a squat young woman scurried over to the podium, nearly tripping over herself in her four inch heels, and handed Mr. Raine a blood red piece of paper.  He snatched the paper away immediately and began reading it as he waved his hand to dismiss her without even looking up.

            “Oh, wow,” he said.  His voice was almost robotic, as if he had uttered the words automatically.  He set the piece of paper down.  “Ladies and gentlemen, Britain’s Headquarters is now in a Level 3 State of Emergency.  Our spy has gone missing, their CEO has been killed in his own office, and Vincent Clarke is sitting at his desk with the corpse at his feet.”

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To be continued next week 4/9/12 at 10pm EST.

Thanks for  reading!  I know it's a bit hard to read on the blog but bear with me, I'll work on making it easier for next time.