Spy School - Back to Basics [2]

03: Waves

Please excuse the chapter about to follow. My middle school is very tame, and Robert E. Lee Junior High is not.

Robert E. Lee Junior High

Vienna, Virginia

May 06

1230 hours

Math went by uneventfully. I sat alone at one of the tables in the back, it was quiet and peaceful. No teacher suddenly lunging and challenging you to a ninja fight. No bomb shoved in front of your face with only ten seconds left on the clock. No spit wad flying towards you that was actually an explosive. Wait. Did I actually miss my old middle school? No way.

I remembered all my old bullies from middle school. Nope, I definitely didn't miss Lee Junior High Even with subjects almost impossible to ace, cold dorms, broken toilets, and terrifying teachers, the spy academy paled in comparison to Robert E. Lee Junior High.

Then, it was time for PE.

"Alright kids, get into groups of three and get some soccer balls! We will only be dribbling today, so don't let me see you trying to score some goals!" the coach yelled over the wind.

Everybody surged towards their desired partners while I stood still. Neither Erica nor Kris were in my PE class, so I was probably going to have to team up with some of the leftovers like myself. Well, at least, that's what I thought before I got swept up by Elizabeth Pasternak.

I had almost forgotten about the ritual, where the popular kids would take a look at the new kids. Sometimes they were dismissed immediately, other times they were taken in for a closer look to examine how high they would be placed in the hierarchy. Erica had already passed the all the tests (according to her, she was well inside their group already), and it seemed that it was my turn.

"Hi, I'm Elizabeth! You're from a boarding school, right? I'll bet you'll like it much better here, as long as you hangout with the right people. You know that right?"

"I guess-"

"Good! C'mon, I'll introduce you to Ivy, she's a new student here too! I'll bet you'll love her, right?"

"Probably-"

"She's waiting by court four, let's go already!"

Elizabeth dragged me past all the other students who were kicking soccer balls all over the place to the court four (which was naturally the best of them all, because you got to throw shade to all of the peasants).

"Hey Ivy, this is Ben, Ben, this is Ivy!" Elizabeth said proudly, like she was showing off her baby sister to all her friends.

Ivy was sitting in some acid washed jeans and an extra-large shirt, sitting against the basketball pole, dribbling the soccer between her feet. Her brownish-black hair look super poofy and curly- a nightmare to comb. She was making a hole in the blacktop by scratching a small screwdriver on the ground, which would have given the coaches a heart attack if they saw.

"Hi," we mumbled to each other, while Elizabeth was jumping up and down from excitement.

We kicked the soccer balls around. Elizabeth and Ivy were perfect at dribbling them, while I was a mess. If the blacktop wasn't so bumpy, it would have been easy for me to dribble the ball.

Side note: it was absolute torture.

Elizabeth was clingy, trying to get us to talk, ship, and generally trying to establish the fact that she was popular. When the coach said it was time to go back to the locker rooms, I sighed in relief. Poor Ivy, however, had her locker right next to Elizabeth's, so Ivy was looking like she was being forced to swallow a golf ball when Elizabeth dragged her to the locker rooms.

It was time for lunch, so I met up with Kris and some of his friends before heading towards the patio, where most students preferred to eat lunch because of the cafeteria smelling like two-day-old fish sticks.

When we turned the corner, the place was in absolute chaos.

There was a large crowd surrounding something- or someone. The wave of people pulsed, sort of like a wave, sweeping up everything in its path, and I quickly got pulled under a riptide, loosing sight of Kris and his friends.

The wave eventually brought me to its origin. Mike and Trixie were facing off a group of popular boys, and their leader was covered in whipped cream. I quickly pieced together what was happening. Trixie and Mike must have been fitting into their as partners in crime by carrying out pranks. They must have pranked one of the popular boys, the one that was covered in cream. Therefore, the popular boys were very, very, angry.

The popular girls were backing them up, chanting "FIGHT, FIGHT!" Elizabeth looked very eager for Mike's murder, while Erica looked like the words were strange and uncomfortable on her tongue. Being popular came at a price, but we needed intel from all perspectives.

The two groups- Mike and Trixie vs the popular boys- circled each other, the circle getting tighter with each rotation. One of the boys tried to land a punch at Mike, but he nimbly jumped away in the nick of time. Then, someone tried to get Trixie from behind her, but she quickly dodged the fist that would have gone into her shoulder.

I understood why Mike and Trixie were playing defense. If they went straight to punching and kicking the boys, it would be pretty hard to come up with an excuse. Sure, an advanced martial arts class is an excuse, but it's a weak one.

I could hear some whistles blowing, probably because all the teachers on yard duty got wind of what was happening and needed to break it up.

Eventually, a disgruntled-looking teacher with wind blown askew like she had walked through a hurricane made it into the circle and yelled, "BREAK IT UP! Everybody, leave!"

Everyone was murmuring, but nobody was moving.

"OR I'LL GIVE YOU THREE WEEKS OF LUNCH DETENTION!"

Everybody left quickly after that.

"All of you-" the teacher gestured to the popular boys and Mike and Trixie- "this is a warning. Next time, you'll get detention. And Miles, please do go to the office to get that cream cleaned off."

1023 words

Yeah... that was an unrealistic chapter. And, 5.2 K reads for Spy School Nemesis? WOW, I never thought I would make it that far. Thank you so much, guavas! ^^

Anyways, sorry for the late update, but I'm innocent!

Judge: Not yet. You need to have a hearing.

Say what now?

Judge: Along with a lawyer.

Wait, huh?

Judge: You are accused of neglecting your story.

I'm not!

Judge: So how do you plead?

I'm not guilty, stop interrogating me!

Judge: Very well, your hearing is in seven to ten days. In other words, your next update for this story will take place right after the hearing.

Judge: You will present your case to the jury- in this case, your readers- during your hearing. They will decide whether you are guilty or not.

*chuckles nervously* Yeah, a-huh. See you later, my wonderful guavas!