Chapter 3
Matthew despised lunch break at Midtown High. Scratch that, he would despise lunch break anywhere, but it was especially hard after Matthew lost his closest friend, Danny.
Danny was a very rich kid. Matthew suspected that had they not met through their parents prior to him arriving at Midtown, they would likely have never been friends. It was Danny's charm and popularity that kept the unwanted attention away from Matthew's seemingly docile disposition. Even five years after his death, Matthew was largely left alone.
Yet that did not stop his ears from grating and his skin from crawling every afternoon. The atmosphere at Midtown High was loud and the building was old. The architects had given no thought to acoustics and the lunch hall was like an inverted amphitheatre, channelling all the sounds from the school to the centre.
Matthew could never truly turn down the cacophony, the best he could ever do was ignore it.
He smiled, however, when he noticed a tell-tale gait walk up towards him from behind.
"Matty! Just who I wanted to see!" said a loud cracking voice from behind.
Seconds later an arm swung around Matthew's shoulders and a stocky boy with brown, short hair sat down next to him.
"You will not believe what I found last weekend."
"Hello to you too, Phil. What did you find?" Matthew asks, humouring his friend.
Phil was one of the few residents at Midtown High who truly treated everyone he spoke to equally. He participated in everything — be it sports, academia, heck, even violin. He was — what do they call it? Something of a 'Mathlete.' His incredible determination and ambition only made it funnier for Matthew when he learned just how much of a fanboy his otherwise stoic friend was.
"Only card number 15 in my vintage Captain America Collection," he replied smugly.
When Matthew did not show enough enthusiasm for his liking Phil continued, "It's one of the rarest in the collection you know! The Cap's in the usual star-spangled man outfit of course, but he has this weird triangle shield! Isn't that rad? That photo must have been taken before he met Howard Stark!" He showed Matthew a photograph of the card.
Of course, Phil had no idea that Howard Stark worked on the serum that created Captain America in the first place, not that that would have diminished his excitement in any way.
"Wow? Is it really that rare? When are you going to show me this supposed collection anyway?" Matthew smirked.
Phil had vehemently refused any calls to bring his collection to school. Which meant that for Matthew, teasing his friend about its existence - or lack of - was far game. Sort of like Johnny Storm's 'Canadian girlfriend.'
Phil only rolled his eyes in response, not falling for the bait.
"Over my dead body, Mercer. Ain't nobody touching my cards."
"Ain't nobody?" Matthew laughed loudly, "Who are you and what have you done with Phil Coulson?"
"Hey, guy." A sharp voice interrupted us from behind.
"Sorry about earlier, here, on me," said the girl who broke Matthew's pen that morning.
She did not look particularly sorry. Though, thankfully, she did not continue the childish game he had started earlier either. Matthew took the pen from her without incident but the pen was nothing like the one he had given her. It was a full metal body, the kind you see bankers use. It felt weighty and probably wrote like butter on warm toast but Matthew could not help but feel she was making a statement of some sort.
Still, a token effort was still an effort. If he turned her away now, he'd be the asshole.
"Sorry we got off on the wrong foot, I'm Matthew Mercer." He reached his hand out.
Taking it the girl replied with a smirk, "Jessica Jones."
Matthew would have to confess; he had not been in this situation often. A handshake, that is.
He knew he was supposed to have a firm grip, his dad had drilled the importance of that into him quite clearly. But what was a firm grip? So far, he had gotten by simply emulating the grip on his own hand. Surely, they could not judge him poorly on his handshake if it was exactly the same strength as their own?
That being said, this had to be the most awkward handshake of Matthew's life. It went on for a while and the girl kept a frigid smile on her face all the way through. Finally, she let go with an expression of confusion.
"What the hell man?" She said as she shook her hand as though he had hurt her.
The blood drained from Matthew's face as he realized he might have accidentally hurt the girl. He should never have offered his hand. What was he thinking? It was frustrating but he'd have to avoid shaking people's hands in the future. He simply did not understand his strength enough to interact with humans safely.
As his thoughts roiled in panic and self-detrimental drivel he stammered, "Jessica! I-I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to I was just-" He had reached out to her hand once again as if to assess the damage.
Jessica had other plans, however, and she pushed against him with both hands, attempting to push him down. And she almost did!
Shock plastered her face as well as Matthew's.
She did not wait long, however, before winding up a punch with her right hand. She twisted her entire body putting all her strength into her arm, telegraphing every motion but Matthew let it hit anyway.
And regretted it almost immediately.
He didn't even have to fake the pain! She socked him right over his right eye, forcing his head back in whiplash and throwing his glasses off his face.
"What the fuck woman!"
In the midst of his panic, Matthew failed to recognize the footsteps of a group of faculty entering the hall.
"Language Mr Mercer! And you, young lady! A fistfight on your first day!? What would your mother say? My office! Immediately!" Shouted the voice of the principal of Midtown High, Mr Roberts.
Matthew missed the string of insults coming from Jessica Jones as she stalked away towards Mr Roberts. His ringing head not doing any good for his mood.
"What the hell was that, Matt?" Phil asked.
"I-I don't know. I only squeezed as hard as she did!"
This was evidently the wrong answer as Phil looked visibly displeased.
"She's just a girl, Matt you don't use force to prove a point," he said pointedly and got up.
"That's not what happened! I was just-" Matthew tried to explain but Phil was already gone.
Matthew was hurt that his friend thought so little of him. How could he know that she would try and squeeze his hand harder than she herself could handle!? He could only sigh in frustration and hurry out of the lunch hall and after Mr Roberts.
Matthew entered Mr Roberts office as he was ending a conversation on the telephone.
"Of course, Mrs Walker! Yes, yes and I really appreciate the invitation to the Gala next weekend. Of course, of course, you need not be concerned at all Mrs Walker. Consider the situation dealt with. Yes, Jessica is a bright young girl and Midtown is very happy to host her and her sister Patricia. Of course, Mrs Walker. I will see you this weekend."
His simpering voice grated on Matthew's bones as he observed the people in the room. Jessica was once again aloof and looked like she would rather be anywhere but here. She spared a few seconds to glare at him but otherwise kept her disdainful eyes on Mr Roberts.
"Mr Mercer, thank you for finally joining us." Said Mr Roberts condescendingly.
The principal of Midtown High had always hated Matthew. Ever since Matthew dared to pass the scholarship test for a full ride at Midtown High — especially after they made him rewrite the test after suspecting him of cheating. Never expecting 'trailer trash' to have more than two brain cells to rub against each other.
Of course, they never did change their attitude. Not even after Mr Rand got them a new house and his father a stable income. Yet another thing he was protected from at Midtown when his friend was alive.
Matthew exhaled a measured breath and glared at Jessica Jones for her part in the mess he was in.
"I am suspending you, effective immediately. I want you to go collect your things from your locker and your homework from your teachers. You can return on Monday."
Despite the favouritism and downright nepotism Midtown High had displayed since Matthew enrolled 6 years ago, he was still shocked by the exaggerated punishment.
"What!? She punched me! Why am I the one getting suspended?" he nearly shouted.
"I am in charge here, and you will watch your tone with me boy."
Matthew opens his mouth to retort, "One more word I will expel you right here and now. I've had enough of catering to your riffraff. You think you can come into my school and put your filthy paws on the daughter of a perfectly respectable news reporter?" He smiled evilly at Matthew. "One more complaint about you and you're out, Mr Mercer," he declared as though Matthew had been a troubled child for all his years at Midtown.
For a moment Matthew thought Jessica would move to speak in his defence. She opened her mouth and was about to speak before she just shrugged and returned to her disdainful glare.
"Frankly I'd be happy to see you gone even if Dorothy Walker herself did not demand your expulsion," he added for good measure as Matthew stormed out of his office. He did not notice Jessica snap to attention at those words. Nor did he care to listen in on her interrogating of Mr Roberts as she asked about his conversation with her ever so charming mother.
Matthew wished he could just speed through the school and collect his effects. He could feel the stares of fellow schoolmates following him through the corridors and they would not stop whispering about how he had attacked a girl. With tears in his eyes, Matthew thought it might have been the most humiliating moment of his life.
By the time he left the school he was vowing he would never return.