The Beginning Ch. 02

2:30 p.m.
19th November, 2012
Math Class (Room 307, Ellis Public School, New York)

School was boring as usual. Absolutely nothing had happened all day to warrant the way I'd felt that morning, and I was beginning to think that it might just have been a freak occurrence after all. To top it all off, I was stuck in the one class I hated the most- Math.

"Chris!" Mr Ray, our Math teacher and Principal called, breaking me out of my reverie, "Since you don't seem to think this subject is worth your attention, perhaps you'd like to come help me solve this problem on the board."

"Uhm," I mumbled, looking up at the equation he'd written on the board, "could I take a pass on that?"

"That depends," he said, holding a piece of chalk out to me, "on whether or not you'd like to pass this subject at all."

Sighing in resignation, I scraped my chair back and walked down to the board. Taking the chalk he was holding out, I stood and tried to make sense of what he'd written.

"Today Chris," he said, sounding miffed, "if you please."

I looked around the class, silently begging them for help, but all my classmates were looking down at their own desks, praying that they wouldn't be called on in my stead. Cursing my luck that day with every expletive I could think of, I was about to give up and suffer the abject humiliation Mr Ray would unleash as soon as I admitted my inability to solve the equation, when something made me stop. A sharp burning sensation rolled across my fingers and up my arm, and I felt like red hot irons were boring their way into my skull. Like that of a puppet being jerked around by phantom strings, my arm rose up of its own volition and started writing the solution to the question on the board. Even stranger still, was how something which seconds ago looked as complex as rocket science to me, suddenly seemed as simple as second grade addition. In fact, I even went so far as to jot down two alternative ways to solve the same equation. I was so occupied by my sudden mathematical epiphany, that I didn't even notice that the burning sensation I'd felt had faded away into nothing.

By the time I was done, the entire board was covered in my scrawling handwriting, and I was feeling like a total genius. Drawing a line below my final answer, I bounced the chalk off the board triumphantly, and turned around to find the class and Mr Ray looking at me with shock etched on their faces.

"Well then, Chris," Mr Ray said, after a strained silence, "it would seem like you really don't need to pay attention after all. I must ask though, why don't your grades reflect the sheer brilliance you've just displayed?"

"Brilliance?" a voice from the back snickered, "Try nerdiness!"

The whole class burst out laughing at that, and I slinked back to my seat, ears burning up with embarrassment.

"Quiet down!" Mr Ray shouted, trying to be heard over the ruckus, "Quiet down, now!"

He managed to get through to them after a while, and silence slowly reasserted itself.

"Greg!" he called, "I know that you're the one who made that snide remark. Why don't you come up here and explain yourself?"

"No, thank you," Greg replied, smirking, "I don't really feel like walking all the way down there."

"Very well then," Mr Ray said, "you've just earned yourself three days of detention."

"What?!" Greg exclaimed, standing up, "You can't do that! Tomorrow's the championship game! If I'm in detention, Coach will pull me off the lineup and bench me!"

"Perhaps," Mr Ray said, as the bell rang, "you should have thought of that before insulting a fellow student, and disrespecting me in front of a class."

"But-" Greg stuttered.

"Class dismissed." Mr Ray said, gathering his stuff and walking out.

"This is all your fault," Greg screamed, pointing at me, "I'm going to get you for this, you little runt!"

"Whoa, calm down," I said, raising my hands up, palms out, "you brought this on yourself!"

"Watch yourself, Chris," he said, murder in his eyes as he walked out, "my boys will want your head after they hear that I'm benched because of you."

Sighing dejectedly, I grabbed my books and walked to my locker. Along the way, I received numerous cold stares, and could hear people whispering my name. With any luck, the whole school knew what had happened, and were undoubtedly blaming me for Greg being punished.

"So," Mathias said, as he caught up to me at my locker, Rand right behind him, "I hear that you've had an eventful day."

"I'll say," Rand added, "impressing a hardhat like Mr Ray, and pissing off the whole football team by getting their star quarterback into detention all in one swoop move? Most remarkable indeed!"

"Speaking of the football team," Mathias said, pointing behind me, "there they are now. And, they look like they're out for blood."

I turned around to see Greg and all his buddies- seven hulking behemoths high on testosterone, that is- marching towards me. I did the most honorable thing I could think of in that situation: I turned around and ran.

"Get him!" Greg yelled, and all of them ran after me, pounding down the hallway.

I managed to make it down the hallway and out the building, before they caught up to me. Sean, one of Greg's buddies leaped towards me, grabbing me around the waist and tackling me to the ground. I groaned as I hit the pavement with him on top of me, the breath knocked out of me. Acting on instinct, I braced my feet against the ground before bringing my arms close to my chest and pushing backwards, and lifting myself up. Letting myself drop again, I brought my weight down on his arms which were still wrapped around my waist. He cried out in pain and I felt something crack, just as he pulled his arms away.

Right then, something told me to roll to the left, and I did, narrowly avoiding being stomped on by Greg. Pushing myself to my feet, I stepped back, avoiding a right hook, before spinning around on my right heel and bringing my left leg up, bent at the knee, to sweep away the kick that was coming from behind. Letting the momentum flow through me, I dropped my left foot down, sliding both feet back and falling onto my palms, dodging two punches and another kick, while kicking Greg (now behind me) right in the shins with my heels. Shifting my weight onto my palms, I somersaulted over two more goons, and landed in a crouch, leaping and tackling another with all my strength.

A shrill whistle broke through the haze that had clouded my mind, and I looked up to see Coach Sanders pushing his way through the group of students that had gathered to watch the fight.

"What in the name of the devil is happening here?!" he bellowed, stopping to take in the scene.

Jumping to my feet, panting, I dusted myself off, looking around me, blinking the sweat out of my eye. Sean was cradling an arm and crying, presumably because said arm was broken, which would explain the crack I'd hear earlier. Greg was right beside him, and it looked like his right shin had caved in when I kicked it earlier, and the three others who'd attacked me at the same time had ended up hitting each other, resulting in a broken and bloody nose, a bruised jaw, and a reduced chance of ever being a dad (if you get what I mean.) The two I'd somersaulted over seemed to be unharmed, just confused, while the one I'd tackled was hugging his sides like something was broken.

"Someone had bloody better explain," Coach said in a dangerously quiet voice, "why most of my team is lying around broken and battered, one day before the end of football season."

"I saw it all, Coach," a female voice called, and I turned to see Amy, a cheerleader and Greg's girlfriend running up, concern painted all over her face, "the boys were just messing around, before this freak (pointing at me, obviously) attacked them out of the blue!"

"What?!" I shouted, "I attacked them?! They were the ones who were trying to beat me up!"

"I can vouch for that, Sanders," a voice said, and the crowd parted to allow Mr Ray to pass, "I was just on my way to see why Greg hadn't reported to the detention room, when I saw him and the rest of these boys chasing Chris through the hallway. I tried to stop them, but by the time I managed to catch up, the fight was well underway. All Chris was doing, was defending himself."

"Okay," Coach said, arms on his hips, "let me get this straight. You mean to tell me that my boys attacked a student after I warned them about getting in trouble, and that I would bench them if I heard so much as a peep out of place-"

"Yes," Mr Ray said.

"-and," Coach continued, "that one kid, a rather wimpy one at that, managed to seriously injure six of the best and strongest athletes in the city, if not the whole damn state?!"

"That would seem to be the case," Me. Ray said, adjusting his glasses, "yes. And, if you want more proof, I'm sure someone here managed to record it all on their phones."

"Unbelievable!" Coach yelled, "Un-frikkin'-believable!"

"If you don't believe me-" Mr Ray began.

"No, no," Coach said, his shoulders suddenly drooping, "I know you to be a man of your word, Ray. If you say that that's what happened, that's what happened, as unreal as it may seem. Looks like I need to make a few calls and withdraw from the championship. Looks like we forfeit the trophy."

"But Coach-" Greg whined.

"But nothing!" Coach yelled, turning all his fury at him, "I know you all too well, Gregory Humpkins! You instigated this entire brawl, and now the rest of the team and indeed the whole school will pay for it. You and the rest of your posse will apologize to this young man, before getting your sorry carcasses to the Medical Room."

"What?!" he yelled, "But that's not fair!"

"What isn't fair," Coach said, bending over to get right in his face, "is a whole team's efforts being washed down the drain one day before the final game of the season, because you were trying to be a tough guy. What's embarrassing, is that some random scrawny kid wiped the floor with eight highly trained men, nearly twice his size. Now, apologize to him like you mean it, before I start thinking about taking away that sports scholarship you were offered."

"Fine," Greg spat, staring daggers at me, "I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted," I said, smiling and crossing my arms in front of my chest.

"Now," Coach said, standing up, "if any one of you or your buddies gets within five feet of this young man, or tries to harm him in any way, you'll have to deal with me. Is that clear?"

"Yes Coach," they said, in unison.

"Away with you then," he said, waving at them with a disgusted look on his face.

The eight of them made their way to the Medical Room on the other side of the football field, supporting each other, as the crowd began to disperse, murmuring excitedly.

"Whoa man!" Mathias said, clapping me on the back, "You into parkour or something? Those were some sick moves you just pulled!"

"Indeed," Rand agreed, "you never told us that you knew how to fight like that."

"I must agree with your friends, Chris," Mr Ray said, walking over, "where did you learn to do that?"

"I have no clue," I replied, wincing as I examined my palms which were chafed and scratched up from when Sean tackled me, "I just reacted instinctually. It was almost like something else was guiding me."

"Impressive," Mr Ray said, a thoughtful look on his face, "most impressive. However, that does not change the fact that you, Chris, were involved in a physical altercation. While any reports made to the police will be waived away in the interest of self-defense, as a teacher, I find myself compelled to speak to your parents about this."

"What?!" I exclaimed, "You can't call them here, Mr Ray! Something like this will be sure to go on my permanent record, and after years of keeping it sparkly white, I can't have it tainted with black!"

"I agree," Mr Ray said, clapping me on the shoulder, "we cannot let an incident where you were merely a victim shadow you around for the rest of what I'm sure will be a bright academic career."

I heaved a sigh of relief at that.

"Which is why," he continued, "I shall accompany you home today. If you would be so kind as to call your parents and tell them to expect me, we can all take my car. That includes the two of you as well, Mathias and Rand. I prefer to have witnesses to corroborate any parts I might miss while narrating an incident, and who better than Chris' best friends?"

My heart dropped all the way to my stomach at that. The only thing that could probably be worse than having your parents summoned to school, was having your Principal accompany you home.

"Would you make the call, Chris," he asked, taking his phone out, "or shall I?"

"No," I sighed, drawing my phone out of my pocket and dialing dad, "I'll do it."

I gave dad and then mum the short version of what had happened, as we walked to Mr Ray's car. They were shocked and panicked a little, before settling down and agreeing to wait for Mr Ray to give them the full version of events.

I was so caught up with imagining all the disastrous ways the upcoming talk would go, that I didn't even notice my palms healing themselves.