1.5
A week without Emma.
I almost couldn't believe it. None of my efforts had yielded any results on that front since she turned on me, but within a week of his arrival, Professor Singer had disrupted their bullying of me. I didn't know why he had done it, but I had to take advantage of her absence. Which is why I was now positioned in front of my bathroom mirror, taking the time to twist my hair into a careful braid. I would still have to deal with Sophia and Madison, true, but Emma was a large part of their power, given her popularity.
One week wasn't nearly enough time, but it was a start. I finished the braid and gave the result a critical look, nodding in satisfaction. I needed to get it trimmed for split ends, but this would do for now. Humming, I went downstairs in search of my shoes. A few minutes later and I fished my jacket from the closet and pulled it on.
"Do you need a ride to school?" my dad asked, coming out of the kitchen.
"No, I thought I'd catch the bus,"I said, waving absently at him as I approached the door. "I'll see you after school. Bye, Dad!" I heard him say something as the door closed behind me but I was already moving so I pushed it out of my mind while on my way to the bus stop.
The bus ride to school gave me time to think, as the route took a roundabout path before passing near Winslow. There were a few other students on with me that I thought were part of one of the more popular groups at school, but they didn't harass me. I did, though, feel several curious looks directed my way as I sat there, turning my attention the harbor as our route overlooked it in several stretches.
I had a week without Emma, but I didn't doubt that Sophia would try and corner me during that time, laying the blame for her cohort's suspension at my feet. How I responded was going to set the tone for the rest of the week.
My expectation was that it would be violence since that seemed to be what I got from Sophia most of the time. She was likely to be in a rare form from stewing over the weekend. If anything, I bet she spent most of the time huddled with Madison and Emma, plotting over how they could get back at me. How to deal with Sophia was still dominating my thoughts when I stepped off the bus about a block away from Winslow and started toward the school.
By first period, though, I had begun to realize that I wasn't going to have near as much trouble with Sophia as I thought. She was entirely preoccupied with another issue that, truthfully, worried me a bit as well. There were a
lot of students openly sporting gang colors and an undercurrent of tension hung in the air almost everywhere I went.
Parahuman Social Studies was were the tension broke, as it seemed to be the only class with a teacher who didn't look worried about the several students in blatant ABB or E88 colors staring death at each other as he or she tried to teach their subject. That was due, no doubt, to the fact that Professor Singer could be very intimidating in his own right, and no one displaying colors seemed willing to be act up when he was around.
Mrs. Knott's computer class was my second period and I took a different seat than the one in the back corner where I usually hid. I felt eyes on me as other students entered the classroom, but no one tried to displace me.
"You're Taylor, right?" the person to my right asked while Mrs. Knott was toward the back of the room, helping someone else.
"I am," I said, frowning a bit. Who was this? I couldn't recall if I had seen her in school before and I was drawing a blank on a name to match the face. Her hair was brown, framing a heart-shaped face and green eyes that were regarding me curiously.
"I'm Catherine," she said, holding out a hand which I tentatively shook. "Hope you don't mind me bothering you, but you are the first person whose name I knew."
"How-" I began, then rolled my eyes. "You saw some of those stupid news reports, didn't you?"
She nodded sheepishly. "I did. It made the rounds and I had to argue with my dad about being sent to a craphole where they would do something like that to a classmate."
"New here?" I asked, pushing thoughts of the locker and seizing on the other part of her statement. "I didn't think I'd seen you before."
"Yeah, dad's military and we had to move when he got reassigned," she said, typing a few lines of text on the computer before looking back to me. "Sorry about bringing that whole mess up again, bad memories or whatever."
I shrugged. "Don't worry about it. It's done with."
"Well," Catherine said. "I sat down for comp-sci and I get an honest tv star as my seatmate, my day is looking up."
I felt my lips twitch slightly and I tilted a glare in her direction. "I'm hardly a tv star."
"You were on tv and people know your face," she said. "That's good enough."
I snorted. "If you say so." I finished off the day's assignment and opened an internet browser to keep busy.
Catherine glanced at the screen, blinking. "You're already done?"
I shrugged. "I usually have my work done quick for Mrs. Knott's class. As long as it's finished, you can spend the rest of the time as you see fit. Sometimes, I'll work on my own stuff, sometimes I'll just read up on current events."
"That's pretty cool," she said. "I'm pretty terrible with them beyond point and click. Any suggestions?" I glanced at her screen, running the requirements for today's assignment through my head.
"Well, for starters," I began, leaning over to point at one of the lines she had typed out. "You'll want to change that line. As it is right now, it'll just break everything else you want the program to do." I answered a few other questions she had, giving her a starting point that would keep her from having a completely terrible end result before settling back to focus on my own searches.
"Mind if I share a table with you at lunch?" Catherine asked a bit later. "Like I said, new here, so I have to start somewhere for making friends."
"I usually just find someplace to eat off by myself," I said, then frowned. No, I couldn't do that anymore. Things had to change and today was as good as any to start. "Actually, that sounds like a good idea."
"Really?" her expression lit up. "Thank you!" She fell silent other than a few comments here or there for the rest of class and I directed most of my attention to browsing the internet.
The rest of the day passed without incident. I could only assume that Sophia and Madison were keeping a low profile after Emma's suspension. It wouldn't last, but it was nice to have a day where I wasn't the target for their every petty slight.
My taking care with how I looked had apparently worked out as well, as other people had
actually spoken to me throughout the day. I had almost forgotten what it was like to have a conversation at school with someone that didn't involve insults being thrown at me. It was actually kind of nice.
As I left school and headed toward the bus stop, however, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise. It wasn't the first time during the day, with all the eyes I had felt on me during the day. My powers never alerted me to any immediate danger, so I forced myself to not worry about it earlier. Now, though, I turned my thoughts to trying to figure out why.
I had changed my appearance by the simple virtue of caring about how I looked and I hadn't been gradual about it, so I was certain that was part of it, but the thought wouldn't go away that there was more to it.
The news.
I frowned at the thought, realization settling in. Catherine had mentioned those stupid news reports. There had been a few of them that tried to sensationalise the whole thing and link me to that incident with the firebird. Was the interest in me because of that? I tapped my foot against the concrete of the sidewalk as I considered that. That was a possibility and I should at least not rule it out, however unlikely I thought it.
The bus arrived and I hopped on, waving my student pass at the driver before heading for an unoccupied seat. I turned and sat, my eyes skimming the near-empty bus, thankful that I wasn't sharing the ride with anyone who would cause trouble. I dug into my backpack for a notebook and began writing, listing other uses I could put my precognition to. I could solve any financial issues we might be having by getting Dad to buy a lottery ticket with numbers I picked. I didn't know exactly what sort of scrutiny they put on winners to avoid parahumans cheating, though, so I would probably want to research that first before getting Dad to do that.
Dad.
Should I tell him that I had powers? I wasn't sure and the few times I had used my power to see what his reaction would be, I couldn't figure out what he was thinking before I hit the limit. There had usually been arguments and I'd decided against telling him for the moment, but it was a thought I kept coming back to.
Probably best to keep it a secret for now. I decided. Dad wouldn't understand, would try to convince me to be
normal. Like I could do that. Emma's crusade against me had killed any chance of that, if there had ever been one.
The pencil tapped against the paper as I glanced out the window, watching what I thought might be the beginning of snow zip past as the bus slowed to make a turn. Had the weather called for snow when I looked last? I couldn't remember and Brockton Bay usually had pretty mild weather. I got off the bus when its route brought it close to a strip mall that had a cellphone provider's store.
Having one on hand was simply too useful and although it would deplete more of the funds I had picked up from the scratch-cards, I could afford the cost of at least a cheap one so that I had a way to call or be called. A few minutes of looking over my options and I left with a new rechargeable phone in my backpack, heading for home while wondering what dad was going to make for dinner.
~~~~~~~~
The next time I think this sort of job is a good idea, I need to slap myself. Colin thought, checking his watch for what felt like the fiftieth time since classes ended. True to Blackwell's word, she had foisted the entire matter regarding Alan Barnes onto him. The man had all but demanded a meeting after school to discuss the matter of Emma's suspension being resolved and now he was late.
Colin was certain he knew why, the man was hoping to throw him off balance and control the flow of the discussion. Had he been meeting with him on grounds more favorable, such as the other's practice, he was sure that he would be sitting in a waiting room an inordinately long time.
He was, however, fully inured to dealing with such tactics and busied himself with looking over his notes that he had collected regarding the man. An accomplished divorce lawyer with a very successful career. The man was used to getting his own way, Colin was certain.
With a grimly satisfied smile, he moved to looking over some of today's assignments that had been turned in. Mr. Barnes might be used to getting his own way, but Colin would be more than happy to explain that would not be happening today.
Ten minutes later, Mr. Barnes arrived, with, of all things, his daughter in tow. Colin shifted his eyes in their direction, but didn't look up from grading papers otherwise.
"Just so you're aware, Mr. Barnes," he said. "Suspension means that Emma isn't allowed on school grounds for the duration of her punishment, so I'm afraid she'll need to leave the premises."
"That's what we're here to discuss," Mr. Barnes replied, his voice controlled. "The unfounded actions and unsubstantiated allegations you've made against my daughter."
He put his pen down and reached into a drawer that he had left open for just this purpose, withdrawing a folder and setting it to one of his desk. "This isn't a court of law, Mr. Barnes, and even if it were, we're not dealing with a divorce case, so you can spare the effort of trying to intimidate me in that fashion."
"I have spoken to Principal Blackwell and my daughter," he fired back. "You had no evidence sufficient for the actions taken against Emma. Taylor and Emma have known each other for years!"
"Have you paid attention to the news at all, Mr. Barnes?" Colin asked politely, his gaze drifting toward Emma, whose complexion started to pale as the question hung in the air.
"What does that have to do with anything?" he demanded. "I recall some sort of report about Taylor, after that dreadful incident with the locker, but what does-" His face blanked and then a scowl developed. "Now see here, if you think I'm going to stand here and allow you to malign my daughter in this fashion by implying that she would be a party to something like-"
"You'll be happy to know that I conducted extensive research into that incident and what the situation here at Winslow was like," Colin interrupted. "I did wish to know what sort of environment I was entering into. Unfortunately, while Ms. Hebert had mentioned who she thought was responsible, by her own admission she was shoved forward, so she didn't have opportunity to see who was responsible."
Mr. Barnes seemed to relax. "You see, complete nonsense-"
"However," he went on as if the other man hadn't spoken, "the incident that precipitated your daughter's suspension had nothing to do with who did or didn't force her into the locker. It concerned another issue entirely. You've read the report on that matter, have you not?"
Alan Barnes frowned. "I spoke with my daughter and Principal Blackwell, but I've had several cases that have kept me busy over the weekend, so I hardly see how that matters."
"I happen to have the report I wrote and submitted to the office," Colin said. "A man in your profession has to appreciate the utility of having multiple copies of paperwork in case of misfiling, I am sure."
"I've been advised about this, as I said," the man replied. "What is your point, Mr. Singer?"
"Professor Singer, Mr. Barnes," Colin corrected, sliding the folder over so it sat between them, unopened. "My point is that you appear to have a misunderstanding of the events that led to your daughter's suspension."
"It was an argument between friends," he said, glancing from the folder to Emma, who was staring at it with a decidedly ill expression. "Isn't that right, Emma? Just a talk that got out of hand?"
She looked up to him, forcing a smile. "That's right. Taylor was just overreacting."
Colin didn't smile as Alan Barnes looked away from his daughter, a frown appearing. "Would you like to see precisely what your daughter was punished for? I recorded the conversation in its entirety, with notations regarding who was speaking when."
"Conversations are typically difficult to transcribe accurately from memory," was the answer.
"I'm an accredited Professor, Mr. Barnes," he said, allowing a snort. "Recalling a conversation that was growing increasingly hostile and culminated in your daughter physically striking her
friend is child's play."
"I wasn't told about any assault," Mr. Barnes said, his frown deepening. He reached for the folder without another word, flipping it open to where the report of the incident lay on top. His expression darkened as he read and he looked up after he had reached the bottom of the page. Colin knew that there was nothing else to be read past that point. His neat handwriting had efficiently filled in the details without having to resort to more than one page.
"Your notations are quite thorough, Professor Singer," he said, setting the page down in the folder and closing it. "This is accurate?"
"Down to the last syllable," Colin confirmed, curious to see what the man would do now. "I have speculation on other, related issues, if you'd care to hear it, but I must be clear that it is just that, speculation lacking conclusive evidence."
Mr. Barnes shook his head. "No, but thank you. I'm sorry to have troubled you. If you'll excuse me, however, I need to go have a discussion with my daughter." The tight, restrained tone he said that in suggested it was not going to be a pleasant discussion.
"Dad?" Emma said, blinking at his tone before turning an ugly look toward Colin as her father guided her out of the room, speaking in low, angry tones. Colin brought up his laptop and typed a few messages and sent them on, before packing away his things. The day had been a long and stressful one and he still had work to do once he was home.
The first and most important, he thought as he headed toward the parking lot, was laying out a plan for discouraging the sudden increase in gang presence at Winslow. Both the E88 and ABB were openly displaying their colors and causing problems at the school. There did not appear to be any reason for such blatant action. It was a dilemma he had been pondering throughout the day, but short of intimidating one of them into talking, there wasn't a great deal he could do.
As it stood, he was almost completely certain that the gangs throwing their weight around were a symptom and not the real problem. What their real goal was something that he needed to unravel.
Placing his briefcase in the passenger seat, he closed the car door, grimacing at the feel of being surrounded on all sides. The car he was using as part of his cover was something he was still getting used to and even so, his motorcycle was something he would prefer. It was entirely his now, its parts upgraded or replaced to such a degree that no real trace of the original remained. Still, this car had some improvements he had done to it as well, so it wasn't entirely dissimilar from his motorcycle.
"System, call Dragon," he said as he backed out of the parking space and set out on the road. "Encryption method zeta."
"I'm here, Colin," Dragon said, so quickly that he almost smiled.
"Waiting for my call?" he asked lightly.
"I had a subroutine set to monitor and automatically patch you to me if you called," she replied. "I was coordinating extraction efforts with that earthquake out on the west coast."
"How bad?" he frowned toward the speaker before navigating into traffic, becoming just another person on their way home.
"Casualties are low at the moment," Dragon said. "The biggest issues will be in repair and restoration. Quite a lot of infrastructure damage to be addressed and given what we expect in the new few weeks…"
He grimaced. "I know. It would be just like them to hit someplace already reeling, Regarding that, have you had time to look over those notes I sent you?"
"I reviewed it and have made some code changes," she answered. "It will definitely be able to predict Behemoth and Leviathan by modeling data. I've started compiling a database for the algorithm to draw upon, based on previous attacks."
"You don't think it will be able to predict her, do you?" he said, his hands tightening on the wheel.
"With Leviathan and Behemoth, we have details that we can draw upon to track their movement," was the reply. "Seismic activity, weather anomalies. The Simurgh, however, doesn't afford us anything of that nature. She appears to just hang there in orbit until she starts moving, leaving us always a half-step behind as far as predicting where she will go."
Colin frowned. "Some warning is better than none."
"You didn't call me to work yourself into a frenzy over a prototype project, Colin," Dragon said, a chiding tone to her voice. "What is it?"
"I haven't made any conclusive headway on determining who the parahuman responsible for the pyrokinetic display is," he admitted. "Worse, a complication arose today. I've been expecting some sort of action from the gangs, but I was expecting a bit more subtlety than what I've encountered so far."
"Elaborate?" Dragon prompted.
"Today had a large number of students openly flying gang colors and causing trouble," he said, focusing on driving while he organized and recounted his thoughts "I've surmised that it was the start of some action on their part, but at no point that I was able to observe was our primary suspect, Taylor Hebert approached."
"Laying hands on the info about her scans from the hospital records likely wasn't particularly difficult," she pointed out. "It's possible they've already dismissed her as a suspect."
"Granted," he replied. "But remember that monitoring suite we were working on? I was able to retask a portion of into an observation program that I inserted into the hospital's network. If anyone accessed her records, it was keyed to send me an alert identifying details of the access. So far, there are only two recorded instances of the record being accessed. The first was during a routine survey by Medhall for a tracking assignment of antibiotics. Part of an inventory system, as near as I can tell. The other was during a standard internal review of all cases to make sure any notes placed on the hardcopy are also within the computer record."
Dragon was silent for a moment. "But without being there in person, you'd have no way to know who else might have been looking over their shoulder, or if they copied information down on paper."
He nodded absently. "Unfortunately, I didn't have enough time with their system to tailor it so that it could determine if an access was falsified or not, so I don't even know if those were legitimate accesses of the system."
"Leave that aside for now," she said. "You mentioned an increase in gang activity? Violence?"
"Nothing obvious," he murmured, "but they were skirting the line very carefully. If I didn't know any better, I'd say they were doing it intentionally."
"Perhaps they were," Dragon mused. "You were devoting attention to them, correct? Were the other faculty focused on keeping them in line as well?" Colin eyed the trees lining the road his house was located on, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.
"Shit," he said finally, realization sinking in. "That's exactly it. They're a distraction."
"To what end?" Dragon asked. "While the the faculty is occupied, what do they stand to gain by being so overtly disruptive?"
Colin took a deep breath, considering the question. "It distracts anyone who might be keeping an eye on our suspect, on Taylor Hebert, for one. But it also distracts the students who aren't members of either faction, keeping them more focused on possible harm if they draw attention, so they don't pay as much if…" He frowned for a moment, then nodded. "They're too focused on that and don't pay any mind to when they get asked questions about Taylor or other students."
"A sound theory," Dragon said lightly. "Is that all, though?"
He tilted his head as he pulled into his garage. "If this theory is true, then they're possessed of more subtlety than I gave them credit for. It's possible, then, that they've slipped someone in to get close to Taylor."
"I could look into the records to see if there are any new students," Dragon offered.
Colin shook his head. "A waste of time. There were several in the past week and it's just a theory as it stands. I'll keep a closer eye on Ms. Hebert, if possible and see if anyone is trying to ingratiate themselves with her."
"Bear in mind, Colin," Dragon murmured, "that new students could simply be looking for a friend in an unfamiliar location. Keep that in mind and don't persecute anyone."
He rolled his eyes. "No, I thought I would prowl the hallways in full gear demanding answers of every single student whether they are a good witch or a bad witch."
Dragon laughed. "You don't have the legs to play Glinda, Colin."
"You can't even see her legs in that horrible outfit," he snorted, pulling his phone from its cradle with one hand and his briefcase with the other. "I'll have you know that I… you know what, never mind. Thanks for the feedback, Dragon. I'll keep you posted on any developments when I send my reports. Could I trouble you…"
"I'm already preparing a summary of your conclusions and will forward it to Miss Militia," Dragon said. "Take care, Colin."
"You too," he murmured as the line disconnected. He tapped the control that began lowering the garage door and headed inside, mulling over the discussion with Dragon. If the theory was true, then he would need to develop some plans for dealing with as many possibilities as he could. Popping his neck, he headed for the kitchen to prepare for a long night.
~~~~~~~~
Being able to go to classes and not worry about Emma, Madison, Sophia and their flunkies made the days at Winslow significantly more tolerable. Halfway through the week and I was actually able to talk to people without one of them popping up to ruin things. It let me take the time to actually look at the arrangement of students and what groups they fell into.
The gangs were probably the strongest faction, followed by the sports teams. There were a few others, like the computer geeks, but Winslow's lack of funding meant that there wasn't much support behind them and if they had any strength, it was outside of the school. Integrating myself with them wouldn't help when Emma returned.
One option I had considered was signing up for sports. I had taken to running in the mornings before school and enjoyed it, but Sophia was one of the star members of the track team and I doubt I would enjoy having to spend time around her, much less work with her on the track team. The gangs weren't an option I was willing to entertain and that left me with a dearth of options.
I could continue on by myself without falling into any particular group was one, or I could try and create my own group. The latter, however, would be problematic as the other groups would be unlikely to allow another group to spring up that could offer alternatives to them. The gangs in particular, as their strength was in others not having options.
And what if I was the only option? The thought brought a slight smile to my face. I could do that, couldn't I? Go from being the lowest rung to the top banana, socially. I nodded to myself. I could rule this school. It wouldn't even be particularly difficult. I took my fork and picked at the substance that I thought was supposed to be mashed potatoes, considering the pros and cons for that. The biggest obstacles I would need to immediately deal with would be Emma and Sophia. I had no illusions that they would try something as soon as her suspension was over.
Which meant I needed to strike first. Whatever power the two of them had, I needed to break it completely and utterly. Emma coming back to find that her attack dog had been defanged would be quite satisfying. The only question was how to deal with her in the few days I had remaining. I began running ideas through my head while picking at my lunch.
"Can I sit here?" a soft voice asked and I glanced up to see a girl with dark hair that had a streak of purple and features that were asian, but I couldn't begin to place from where.
"Sure, table's open," I said, waving at the empty seats all around me.
"Thank you," she answered and took one of the seats opposite where I sat. "I'm Yor-, ah sorry. Minako Yori. It's nice to meet you." She ducked her head slightly as she said that, looking nervous for a moment.
"Taylor Hebert," I replied, deciding that whatever these were on my tray, they weren't mashed potatoes. "New?"
She shook her head. "No. Well, sort of. I was away due to family issues and just returned, so I'm a bit behind." Minako peered at her own tray with a frown. "Those aren't mashed potatoes, are they?"
"I don't think they are," I agreed, eyeing hers with the same scrutiny as mine. They still didn't appear to be mashed potatoes for her either. "I haven't determined what sort of life-form they are, however."
"We are probably not meant to know," she said finally, looking up. "Do you suppose if it is another life-form, it's trying to communicate with us?"
"I'm not sure what message they would be trying to convey by appearing as almost liquefied potatoes," I observed, switching to the subpar meatloaf they usually served with the not mashed potatoes.
"Perhaps pretending to be harmless?" Minako suggested.
"That's possib-" My power alerting me to a situation. I leaned over slightly as if to check my backpack, avoiding a collision that would have shoved my arm into the food, ruining my sleeve. Sophia. I met her eyes and gave as close to a bored expression as I could, but said nothing. She glared for a moment, then snorted and walked away with her tray, looking equal parts disgusted and perplexed.
"Who… was that?" Minako asked hesitantly, glancing toward Sophia's retreating back then to me.
"A problem I have to deal with," I said with a growl. "She's had it in for me since I met her and I don't really know why. I honestly don't care at this point, either." Minako gave me a concerned look and exhaled slowly.
"She is unpleasant," she finally said. "It radiates around her." She shook her head, distaste clear.
I glanced her way. "Radiates?"
She ducked her head. "A figure of speech, but an honest one, no?"
"It is that," I said, slicing off some of the meatloaf and testing it. Yup. Still bland. Edible, but bland. "I would avoid her if I were you, though."
"Avoid who?" Catherine said, settling at the table opposite Minako. "Hey, Taylor. And you! You could have told me you were here today!"
The other girl bobbed her head in greeting, half-smiling. "Catherine."
"Now, who are we avoiding?" Catherine said.
"Oh, Minako was witness to Sophia Hess," I shrugged. "Nothing to worry about."
"Hess," Catherine frowned, then her eyes widened. "She's one of that bunch, isn't she?"
"Yes," I said with a shrug. "My problem, though, so I'll deal with it." Catherine exchanged a look with Minako and I got the sense that they knew each other as they seemed to hold an entire conversation in that one glance.
"What are you doing after school?" Catherine asked me.
"Home, probably," I shrugged. "Nothing else comes to mind." The two of them exchanged a glance again.
"Come hang out with us, then," Minako said. "We were thinking of a trip to the mall, maybe check out that new shop that opened?"
"The shoe store?" I asked, lifting an eyebrow. "I don't usually go shoe shopping."
"You're not," Catherine said. "You're hanging out with us while we go wherever we want."
I bit my lip, considering the offer. Neither gave me any sense of dishonesty, but after the stunt Emma had come up with of getting someone to pretend to be my friend, I was wary. Still, I did have to start somewhere, right? Having friends as support was going to be crucial if I really wanted to go forward with my plans.
I exhaled slowly and then nodded. "That sounds like fun, actually." Both of them beamed and I felt the distrust of others lessen a bit. I would make friends and put an end to Emma's campaign of terror. I had to start somewhere and this was as good a place as any for that.
"Great!" Catherine said cheerfully. "Where's a good place for grabbing some food afterward?"
"Well, there's Fugly Bob's," I said as they quizzed me on places to eat, enjoying the simple pleasure of being able to sit and talk in the cafeteria during lunch. "Burgers are good, but not great and they're not that expensive."
"Sushi?" Minako said and I frowned, thinking of a response as I racked my brain for where the sushi restaurants were.
"There's a couple of them downtown," I said. "And a good place in the mall, I hear…" The rest of the lunch period passed in a blur.
---
