• They say playing lots of video games helps kids get faster reflexes. Mom didn't believe this at first when I told her, but if I vowed that if I lived through this day, I would be sure to remind her of how it saved her only child's face.

    I quickly moved out of the way as the first fist came flying and hit the spot in the air where my head had just been moments before, and the snooty kid glared at me angrily.

    "Pretty fast, I'll give you that, punk..."

    It was currently me and the leader of the trio, while the other two hung back and each held onto one of picked-on kid's arms. Despite his own situation, he just kept on staring at me owlishly, like he was still trying to comprehend that someone was helping him out.

    My head whirled back to my opponent. His expression was scary dark, as if he was convinced this was some ultimate duel to the death instead of a school fight. One glance at the child I was defending, with slight bloody mess, warned me that that might not be a total exaggeration. I frowned anxiously, trying to not to show any weakness in my expression.

    "Get over here, will you?" he called to one of his buds,

    Backing away, I tried to find an opening to make a counter strike, but saw one of the jerk's friends moving towards me. This was bad... one I could handle, but I wasn't sure if could take on two people at once... crap. But just then, a flash of orange suddenly flew past the corner of my eye, followed by the sound of muffled screaming. All battle-faces were dropped, and my opponent and I turned our heads to see what was going on.

    The guy who had been holding onto the smaller kid was now crippled on the floor, clutching his stomach in pain, while his former captive was now piggy-riding on the back my opponent's back-up, wildly scratching him and pulling at his hair. The dude screamed and cursed, trying to shake him off, but the kid held on tight. He only broke his concentration on his attack once, to directly shoot me a look, his striking green eyes burning into my own, gray ones.

    Well you didn't need to tell me twice.

    The leader of the gang's eyes were still fixated on the struggle, and didn't have time to stop my leg as it swept under is own, and he came crashing to the linoleum floor. He was quick to come back to his senses however, and grabbed my ankle bringing me down with him. From there, we struggled to gain the upper hand, with him throwing various punches at my head, which I did my best to block. Something had to be done, fast. Doing my best to keep the throws at bay with one arm, I stretched my other arm out, searching, searching... my hand locked around an object, and I felt a massive rush of adrenaline...

    BLAM!

    The thin, metal lunch tray sang a clear 'bonnnng' sound when it collided with the side of the upper classman's fat, ugly head. He gained impressive arial, and skidded across the tiles before stopping, cursing and holding his head in pain.

    Whoa.

    The whole cafeteria had become quiet, well, except for the screaming and thrashing of my apparent fight-partner and his victim, my shallow breathing as I felt the adrenaline slowly drain from my veins, and the clatter of the lunchtray I dropped. Every other kid in the room was staring in shock, and looking around, I contemplated exactly what to do next...

    I glared at the brat, "Next time, pick on someone your own-"

    "What is the meaning of this?"

    Annnnnnd, my super cool victory line was cut off by an elderly, and angry-looking old woman with a teacher's uniforms standing in the double doorway. Crap, I thought, and scrambled to get up to explain.

    "It wasn't- I mean- He- There was-" I stuttered panickly.

    "Enough!" she shouted, and wasted no time stridding over to the last struggle. She only had to glare at the two, and they stopped mid-fight and stared at her, attacking-kid in the middle of biting the bully-kid's head. The old woman then grabbed the two down boys by their collars and pulled them to their feet.

    "All five of you, to the Head-Master's Office, immediately!"

    I repeat... CRAP.

    But one look from the expressions of all the other children, ally and enemies alike, warned me there was no use in trying to argue. My little "ally" hopped off the other kid's back, and we all made our way after the teacher.
    ---------------

    The benches outside of the Head-Master's office must have been very old, as they creeked and squeaked whenever I shifted anxiously.

    All five of us were silently sitted outside, waiting for someone to be called in. Nobody dared to utter a word, but our feelings were quite clear. The leader of the bully trio wasted no effort in being discreet of his evil death-glare directed at me, holding an ice pack over the huge bump on his head from my brutal lunchtray attack.
    His friends just looked at the floor and nursed their own wounds, while their former victim didn't seem to have a care in the world. He had a pair of iPod earphones set in his ears, turned up loud enough so I could hear the soft sound of some intense rock and roll playing. For some reason, it just made this whole situation even more uncomfortable.

    Finally the door opened, and our heads all turned simultaneously to the elder teacher who walked out and scowled. She pointed to the bully trio, who all got up and made their way into the office, door slamming behind them. It was the first time I noticed the plaque on the door, golden and very-official looking, written boldly in Times New Roman, "Mr. Wednesday." Another shiver ran down my spine. Something about that name made me feel... hard to describe... intimidated, if not a bit humbled... I got the sense that this man would mean business.

    There was a giggle from my right.

    My head snapped over to the one guy left next to me, who was chuckling as he wrapped up with iPod. Getting a good look at him for the first time, I noticed his uniform was completely sabatoged and redone, with a nifty punk rebel style. He propped his combat-booted feet on the other side of the bench, laid down comfortably, and extended a spike-wristbanded hand to me in greeting.

    "Thanks." he spoke with a British accent, and flashed me a three-cornered smile.

    I blinked, and then shaked his hand. "No problem."

    "What's your name?"

    "Theo."

    "Bodacious."

    What...? Not very fluent in punk lingo, I just assumed that was good.

    "You new 'round here?" he asked, bright green eyes staring at me with intense interest. He had a wild mess of fiery red hair.

    "Yeah," I answered, "This is my first day here..." I felt my face instinctively fall, and spilled out my worries. "You don't think this will get me kicked out or anything, do you?"

    The kid blinked, "Pfft, 'course not. Wednesday may be a pretty hard dude, but he wouldn't expel ya on the first day."

    Not entirely calmed down, more paranoid ranting came out. "But this is my first day! There's no way I'll get off scot-free for this! It could be on my permanent record, and this is a private school! What will my parents say?"

    "Calm down," he frowned, "I said you're not going to get in trouble."

    There was a loud, masculine yelling that suddenly came from the office. I couldn't exactly make out the words, but they sounded stern and terrifying, and if I listened closely, I could've sworn I heard crying...

    I gulped, and the punk kid winced nervously.

    "Well... probably won't, anyway..." he corrected himself.

    "Aren't you nervous?" I asked, "I mean... you shouldn't get in trouble, you were the one that was being assualted."

    His expression perked, and he let out a jolly laugh. "Old Man Wednesday never gets mad at me!"

    "... Really?" Forgive me for stereotyping, but this kid didn't exactly seem like Valedictorian-teacher's pet type. If anything, hadn't I heard something about him soliciting answer sheets before this whole mess even started...?

    "Yeah," he shrugged, like it surprised him too. "I guess you could say that... the guy just never wants to ever see me, and I'm one of the worst kids here. He does that with some kids. Can't put my finger on it, but I think you might just be the same..."

    "You think I'm... bad?"

    "No! Again, I don't think you'll get in trouble."

    A soft click and the sound of shuffling feet alerted the departure of the three boys before us, and I looked up just in time to see them hurrying away with morbid expressions. I gulped, but then took a deep sigh and stood up, making my way to the door, putting on a brave face. If there was going to be punishment, then I would face it and take it with dignity... but the old lady teacher just calmly held up a hand.

    "Mr. Wednesday has no need to see you." she stated.

    I whipped around to catch punk-kid's grin, and then spun around back to the teacher.

    "But... is he sure... I obviously broke the rules." I said humbly, "Those other boys got a scolding... I should deserve one too."

    The teacher's eyebrow went up, as if she didn't believe what I was saying, but then softed. "No young man," she said, "There is no need for that. The Head-Master has spoken." She removed her glasses, rubbed them clean, and put them back on. "But I must say, I deeply admire your willingness to take on a punishment," she smiled, "We need more children with your attitude around here..." Her eyes narrowed as she slightly turned her head to the punk-kid still sitting at the bench, who smiled smugly and gave her a little wave.

    I smiled, "Well... thank you ma'am."

    "Now off to your dorms, both of you, or I really will give you detentions."

    "Would yo-? Whoa!" Punk-kid, obviously sensing what I was about to say, quickly grabbed my hand and pulled me away hurriedly. Once we were out of ear's reach of the teacher, he gave me a WTF-look.

    "What was with the hero act?" he asked suspiciously.

    "What are you talking about?"

    " 'Oh no, ma'am! Please punish me too! I deserve it! I'm such a good martyr!' " he imitated my voice with a scary accuracy.

    "It wasn't an act!" I sniffed indignantly, "I really did deserve something, because I broke the rules. It's only fair."

    "Ahhhh, I got a straight-arrow on my hands."

    "You bet it." I said with pride, because while most teens were afraid of being called goody-two-shoes, it wasn't something I was ashamed to admit. Instead of teasing, punk-kid just gave me another wide, Cheshire cat-type smile. I got a feeling these grins were quite inconic of him.

    "Luke." he said.

    "Pardon?"

    "My name is Luke."

    I blinked, "... As in... Luke Eldr?"

    "An adoring fan?" he asked teasingly.

    "Nope, just your new roommate."

    His grin got wider, "Excellent!"

    It was my turn to grin, "Ah... you're not going to kill me in my sleep, are you?"

    Luke shrugged, and smiled mock-mysteriously. "Don't count your money just yet..."

    We both laughed. And that was how I made my first friend at Seven Seas High.