The Herald

[José Luis Flores]

(If you want in on some high school hijinks, please send me a pm, and we can work something out, eh?)

His eyes snapped open, and he sat up quickly, looking around. He swore. By how bright everything was, he'd overslept; the alarm must have cut out again.

Crawling along his bed to his computer, he let his hand rest on the mouse and gave it a few soft pushes. The desktop had entered power-save mode, and took a second to wink on. His eyes drifted to the lower right corner, and he swore again.

He knew he shouldn’t have stayed up so late. Stupid Sara, talking his ear off almost. She was just too sexy to push off though. One had to have their priorities right, after all. He jumped up and pulled up a pair of jeans from the floor. He regarded them for a second, and decided that they were clean enough.

‘I’ll meet you tomorrow morning, before school, okay?’

José barely kept himself from cussing again as he remembered the conversation from last night. Sara’d told him she’d meet him; that was almost like saying, ‘José, I want you in me.’ Whenever a girl had told him that before, he’d gotten to at least third base with them. But then, he’d always been on time to meet them then. He might be able to play this off, if he could get there soon enough to talk to her for a few seconds at least.

He literally flew down the stairs as he pulled the hoodie on and shrugged on his book-bag. He could hear his sister making her lunch. Spongebob Sqaurepants was on TV (it was the imagination episode); that annoying laugh was too recognizable.

“You’re late, José Luis!” she called from the kitchen. “Lucky mom’s not home, or she’d kill you!”

The nearly seventeen year old didn’t answer, but only stopped at the door to pick up his shoes and skateboard.

He swung the door open and stepped outside, slamming the door shut and locking it with his key (he was lucky that the keys had been in his pocket, or he’d have been doubly screwed). He stepped off the stoop, and ran to the street, gaining speed; all this was done automatically, as his entire being was focussed on getting to the school in time to see Sara.

Suddenly, the world stopped all around him, and then it moved. He wasn’t moving, though. The world blurred around him as he stood still, and the next thing he knew, he was on the front steps of the school, halfway up. Life resumed, and José felt dizziness and vertigo hit him harder than ever before. His foot came down to stabilize himself, but it fell on the board, which moved, and he fell backwards, almost knocking another kid down the steps. Someone shouted, and José blacked out.

His last thought before unconsciousness was a distinct: fuck, now I’ll never get to see Sara naked.

[Kahlia Winchester]

"José!"

Yes, she'd shouted. Being in California was way, way, way different than New York State and the move had been a wee bit of a surprise. Yeah, just a little bit. Lia was used to the tall buildings, the vast metropolis of Manhattan and the diversity of New York City. The vacationing in Upstate New York. Being subjected to so much sun and so much beach here presented so much challenge to getting in the right mood for sketching up something truly sick. The lack of emotion that permeated through the cold highrises of Wall Street and the like appealed to her creativity. The state that was home to Hollywood just didn't inspire quite as much. Who really gave a shit about the rich and famous?

At least she had no trouble making friends here. People seemed more okay with her or at least they pretended to be.

"José!" Lia shouted, pushing through the gaggle of other students, trying to catch up with him before classes. Seeing him just in time for him to black out. She stopped dead in her tracks and rolled her eyes. "Again? God, José."

Pushing her patch and button-adorned messenger bag back from her side so it sat over the small of her back and draped just over her butt, she pulled and shoved the mass of bodies that had quickly formed around him out of the way, trying to be polite at first and resisting the urge to make idle threats of bodily harm. She'd seen what had happened to that Trevers kid for merely joking about killing someone, the wrong person. The school rat-out, the little coward. No, that wasn't going to happen to her.

"Move, pasty-ass!" She pulled some gawking emo kid out of the way, sending him stumbling into the rail that came up with the stairs and crouching alongside José once she'd made enough room. The girl with pale make-up sat on her haunches, forearms on her knees, hands dangling. She reached out a hand to shove at José, shove him in the shoulder, before brushing hair out of his eyes. Fucker looked like a shag-dog and badly needed a trim. One hand on his forehead, she glanced up, eyes scanning for any of the teaching staff. She kinda hoped for one of the cute ones, but beggars couldn't be choosers. Her eyes still aloft, she sighed.

"Jeez, José. Keep this up and I'll sign you up for drama classes when you're not looking. You'd make a great damsel." She looked down at his stillness again and scruffed his hair with a quick rub of the hand, casting her eyes back up at the assembly of other students. Her eyes narrowed and she sneered at them all. "Hey, don't all you gawking little fucks have anywhere else to be?"

[Tom Harriman]

Smooth, Harriman, his subconscious chastened. Real smooth.

Ordinarily, Tom was a suave and graceful person, but something about a certain Miss Alice Kelly had him feeling a little off, somehow; nerves maybe, though he couldn't pin down why. Whatever it was, he kinda liked it: the feeling of nervous, stomach-churning anticipation made him feel like a little kid again, bumbling around asking out a girl for the first time; and that was kinda exciting, weirdly.

He didn't have time to dwell however, as an anguished cry grabbed his attention. His ears didn't register the details of the words that had been uttered, but the tone was clear enough. He turned, autopilot engaging as his legs carried him in the right direction, pace progressively increasing as the scene of whatever had transpired came into view. A swarm of students lingered in the distance, which was generally a bad sign. Cries of that type combined with crowds generally meant that someone - usually some socially ostricised individual, wearing glasses and carrying Quantum Physics books if the clichés were to be believed - was getting their face caved in; irritation, annoyance and anger boiled up in Harriman at the idiocy of the kids that he tought, and spurred his pace even quicker.

As he grew closer however, a different scene unfolded. The students that surrounded a figure prone to the ground weren't sporting the usual looks of anticipation and excitement that one might expect had they been spurring on a fight, but rather looked a strange mix of confused, bemused, and amused. One in particular stared with a kind of jealous loathing at the fallen student, apparently envious of the attention; as Tom approached he looked up, and panic flashed in his eyes. "I didn't do anything, I swear," he offered, by way of lame alibi.

Tom ignored him, shoving his way past and into the middle of the circle that the kids had formed. He knelt down, inspecting the fallen form of what emerged to be José Flores, one of the students who was meant to be in the class that he should have been teaching. He pushed the observance that José was late - again - to the back of his mind, and concentrated on what ha befallen him. There weren't any physical signs of trauma - no bloodied nose, swolen lips, or fledgeling bruises that one might have expected from a fight-related explanation for José's collapse, but that did little to reassure Tom: instead, it pointed to any number of things that could have been considerably more severe. His eyes sought out the excuse-making student from earlier. "Fetch th' nurse," he instructed to Gawking Emo Kid, barely paying attention to see whether he responded or not as his focus returned to José.

Harriman wasn't alone at Flores' side he noticed, mind briefly processing the identity of Kahlia Winchester, another of his pupils. "Hang in there, José," he offered as a gentle request, before his eyes sought out Kahlia's attention. His brow quirked into a frown as he probed gently for information. "Did y' see what happened?"

[Kahlia Winchester]

<o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com<img src=" forum="" images="" smilies="" blush.gif="" border="0" alt="" title="Blush" smilieid="2" class="inlineimg"></o:smarttagtype> Her body straightened and her attention shifted when she saw Harriman approach, though she also let out a small, relieved breath when she realized that he hadn’t noticed her there, yet. Not relief at being temporarily invisible, just relief that it wasn’t one of the more unforgiving profs.<o>

</o> Kaufmann. Gag. Thank whatever god that it’s not him. <o></o>
<o></o>
Lia watched with hidden interest as the teach looked over José. He was as new to the school as she was and he was more not from around here than her. It was so obvious, but she couldn’t hold it against him. That’d be, you know… hypocritical, right? He had his neat accent and she was just a plain weirdo. She tried not to think about how the other girls in the class giggled about how sexy his voice was, since she tended to gag at their mere presence.<o></o>
<o></o>
His talking to her, asking a question, snapped her out of her little reverie and she blinked, looking back down at José and very suddenly withdrawing her hand. She glanced over her shoulder at all the spectators and just wanted to somehow scare the shit out of all of them and make them go away. Instead, she just tracked her gaze back to Harriman’s face and blinked again, giving him a very small nod.<o></o>
<o></o>
“He was…” No, it wouldn’t be good to mention that. That she saw José moving really fucking amazing-fast… no, she didn’t know what kind of guy Harriman really was and being late was manageable trouble for one of her only friends in all of L.A., but she didn’t know where the teach’s loyalties laid when it came to people who were different. She couldn’t say anything, anyway, because she didn’t know if José was keeping it to himself or not and it would be shitty to screw up like that and lose her first and only friend in this <st1:city><st1>new city</st1></st1:city>. All this told her was that the first time she’d seen him pass out, it sure as hell wasn’t a medical thing. Which was really, really sick. “…he got up the steps, stood there a bit, wobbled a little and crumpled like a demo'd derelict. I was trying to get his attention when he knocked over.”

Of course, it wasn't like anybody knew her little secret, either. It wasn't exactly en vogue to be a 'freak'. She was one by choice, secret or no. She glanced away. Even though she looked like a deviant, she was still a good student, for the most part.

"Um, sorry we're late, Mr. H." She said, quietly. God only knows what all the other shitheads would think to do if they caught her apologizing. It was honest. She wasn't sucking up. They'd never believe her. Augh. Who fucking cares? "But I think José can't help himself, this time."
<o> </o>

[Tom Harriman]

Despite the gravity of the situation, Harriman managed to muster a small smile for Kahlia, throwing as much reassurance into the expression as he could muster. She was one of those outcast kids: the ones who separated themselves from the major social groups intentionally. In Tom's experience though, that intention stemmed from some sort of belief that they deserved it: some aspect of their personality or sense of self that they felt earned them alienation. Harriman could empathise with that, all things considered; the last thing he wanted to do was compound that seregation further. So, he smiled; treated her like any other ordinary kid.

"I think we c'n probably let y' guys off, jus' this once," he offered, a gentle token response to her appology. It wasn't much of a reassurance, but it was the best he could provide, given the circumstances.

He glanced up, peering down the corridor in the hopes of seeing the inbound nurse that he'd sent for; but aside from the cluster of students surrounding them, the corridor was empty. His eyes settled on Kahlia once more. "How about y' head off t' class?" he suggested, adding: "That goes f' all of y'," to their throng of observers. His tone turned soft as he addressed Lia directly again. "I'll watch him until th' nurse gets here. He'll be safe, I promise."

[Kahlia Winchester]

Lia smiled very small back at Harriman. Okay, so he might have been cool. He might be okay. A little. A little more, even, than she thought. It gave her some small sense of satisfaction that she pegged him a little rightly.<o>

</o> “Um…” Nooo way. <o></o>
<o></o>
She kinda balked at the suggestion, only just managing to keep her mouth from dropping open at the thought of just leaving José behind. And it wasn’t like there was a point of heading off to class yet when the teach himself wasn’t going to be there at the same time. And the other guys had a way of misbehaving worse than they did under a supervisory eye without that supervision. And they were harder to ignore without José there. It was just not going to happen if she could help it.<o></o>
<o></o>
“…d’ya think that maybe I could stick with him? Not that I think he isn’t safe with you, Mr. H, but….”<o></o>
<o></o>
She brushed hair out of her own eyes and watched as finally the others all backed off and were on their way. Some of them looked reluctant to do it, some of them she just knew were whispering amongst themselves about her and others still whose resolve to deviate from being good kids broke under the slightest rebuke from even the nicest profs. Kahlia looked back at Tom again, her smile less solid.<o></o>
<o></o>
“…he’s my friend Mr. H, I can’t just leave him here.”<o></o>
<o></o>
Inwardly, she was glad that José was out cold. He wouldn’t let her live down being so pansy ass. She’d just kick him or something if he were awake and started poking fun at her for it. If only he knew she was as soft on the inside as a marshmallow. Yeah, like she’d ever show that.<o> </o><o>And the truth was she really didn't want to go into a classroom full of haters on her own. She'd do anything to avoid that, if she could.
</o>

[José Luis Flores]

José woke up to the not so familiar (and slightly uncomfortable) bed in clinic, still slightly out of sorts.

“What the hell?” he murmured, looking around. Then he remembered, and let himself fall back onto the bed heavily, groaning.

“Well, it’s good to see you up, José,” the nurse (whose name José didn’t know) said. He nodded. “Your friend Kahlia stayed with you for a while until I had to send her back to class. She was very worried.”

José gave the nurse a slightly disbelieving look.

“That doesn’t sound like her,” he said, sitting up and letting his legs hang off the side. The Nurse walked over and placed a hand to his forehead.

“No getting up just yet, young man,” she commanded. “We’ve got to make sure you don’t up and faint again.”

José shifted in embarrassment. “I won’t.”

“Says you,” the nurse shot back good-naturedly. “You missed first bell. It’s almost lunch-time.”

“I have lunch at third,” José replied. She nodded.

“Second is almost over.”

José grunted. “Shit. Mr. Harriman’s gonna be pissed.”

“I think he might be a bit understanding, considering that he was the one who watched you until I came with the stretcher.”

José groaned again. “I did that in front of the whole freaking school.”

The nurse smiled, pulling out a thermometer and placing it into a plastic sleeve. She held it up to him, and he placed it in his mouth, underneath his tongue. “You did. Now, do you know why you fainted on the steps to the school? I’d say you must have worn yourself out trying to get here on time, but you weren’t sweating. It wasn’t hot enough out for heat-stroke. Things like this don’t normally happen just out of the blue, though.”

José shifted again, and tried to speak around the thermometer.

“I’ll take that to mean that you don’t know,” she said, writing something down on a pad in her lap. José grinned abashedly and shrugged, looking around while waiting for the thermometer to beep and show his temperature. It gave him time to come up with a story or something, as he sure as hell wasn't going to tell her that he couldn't remember how he'd actually managed to get to school in the first place.