Monday rolls around, and I'm posted in front of Midtown High. I'm rocking a blue jacket with a massive hoodie. My Goggles are pushed up on my head like a pair of designer sunglasses. Inside my Digivice are Gatomon and BlackGatomon.
"So, what is this place?" Gatomon asks. I pull out the Digivice, and put it up to my ear. I lower my voice.
"It's a school," I tell them. "A place where people go to get smarter. Well, most of them anyway."
"I've never seen so many of those human children in one spot," BlackGatomon remarks, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Are they always this…loud?"
"Yep, pretty much," I say, popping the 'p'. "Get used to it, you two. It's only gonna get worse."
I stroll through the front doors, instantly regretting my life choices. Teenagers flood the hallway, laughing, yelling, and generally being obnoxious. I already finished college once. Now, I have to navigate this again? Seriously?
"Ethan! Hey, Ethan!"
I spin around. Standing there, looking like he's perpetually surprised, is Peter Parker. Well, a pre-Spider-Man Peter Parker. He's still rocking the nerdy glasses, his hair is a mess, and he's got that classic dorky grin plastered on his face. He is skinny as hell. Definitely hasn't gotten bitten by that radioactive spider yet.
"Hey, uh, Peter, right?" I ask, trying to act like I belong here. "What's up?"
"Dude, I was starting to think you weren't coming back," Peter says, his face lighting up. "I was kinda worried, you know?"
"Worried? About me?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. "I didn't think I made that much of an impression."
"You're one of the few friends I have," he admits, scratching the back of his neck. "So yeah, I get worried. So, uh, where do we need to go? Oh, did you need to go to your locker?
"Actually, yeah," I say, playing along. "I completely blanked on where it is. You remember where it is, right?"
Peter gives me a weird look. "Uh, yeah… Don't you? It's been, like, our lockers are right next to each other."
"Yeah, well, this past week wasn't exactly a picnic," I tell him, shrugging. "Memory's a little fuzzy."
"Oh, man, that's rough," Peter says, his expression softening. "No worries, I got you. Come on, it's this way."
Peter leads me down the crowded hall, weaving through the throng of students until we reach a bank of lockers. He points to one, a dented, olive-green thing with a faded number on it. "Here you go, dude. Number 2187. Can't miss it."
I stare at the lock, trying to remember the combination. Nope, nothing. "Uh, yeah, about that…" I mutter, glancing around to make sure no one's paying attention. Peter's too busy adjusting his glasses to notice my dilemma. Time for some stat-boosted ingenuity.
I subtly grip the lock, channeling a bit of that newfound strength. It groans in protest, then pops open with a snap. Not exactly subtle, but effective.
I swing open the door and peer inside. What greets me is…disgusting. Textbooks are waterlogged, gym clothes are covered in some kind of green slime, and my hygiene products are all leaking. Fantastic.
"What the…" I start, but Peter cuts me off.
"Dude, that's totally Flash," he says, his voice laced with anger. "He's been a jerk ever since you were gone."
I scowl, slamming the locker shut. Figures. I should've expected this. I haven't even been back for five minutes, and this clown is already on my nerves.
"Kepler!"
Speak of the devil.
I turn around, and there he is: Flash Thompson. The guy is a mountain of muscle, even at this age. He has a letterman jacket, perfectly coiffed hair, and a sneer that could curdle milk. He is flanked by a couple of goons who look like they struggle to spell their own names.
"Well, well, well," Flash drawls, sauntering toward me. "Look who finally decided to show his face. Thought you crawled into a hole and died, Kepler."
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. This is so cliché it hurts. "Miss me?" I ask, smirking.
"Like a hole in the head," Flash retorts, his goons chuckling like trained seals. "But I gotta say, I'm kinda glad you're back. Things were getting boring around here without you to pick on."
Inside my Digivice, Gatomon is practically vibrating with fury. "Let us out, Ethan!" I hear her hiss. "I'll make him regret ever messing with you!"
BlackGatomon is even less subtle. "Please, Ethan, please! I promise I'll be a good girl! Just let me at him!"
"Settle down, you two," I murmur, trying to keep my voice steady. "I got this."
I take a step forward, meeting Flash's gaze head-on. "Sorry to disappoint you, Flash, but I'm not the same pushover you used to know."
Flash's sneer deepens. "Oh yeah? What's changed, Kepler? Suddenly grow a spine?"
"Maybe," I say, shrugging. "Or maybe I just realized that guys like you only get away with being bullies because people let them."
Flash's face turns a shade of red that should probably be medically checked out. "You watch your mouth, Kepler," he snarls, taking a step closer. "You don't want any trouble."
"Trouble? From you?" I laugh, a genuine, amused sound. "Please. You're the one who's gonna have trouble if you don't back off."
I can feel the weight of Flash's glare, the simmering rage radiating off him like heat from an oven. But I don't flinch. I stand my ground, my own anger simmering beneath the surface. It's time this jerk knew that I'm not going to take his crap anymore.
"I don't think you understand who you are messing with," Flash says, "you may have some friends now, but that doesn't mean anything. You are still a nobody!"
I can see the veins popping in his neck. Good. Let him be angry. It's a much better look for him than that smug grin.
Before I can retort, a voice cuts through the tension like a hot knife through butter.
"Flash, knock it off."
It's Gwen, stepping between us with a look that could stop a charging rhino.
"Oh, look who it is," Flash says, his voice dripping with false sweetness. "Gwen Stacy, come to defend her little boyfriend?"
"He's not my boyfriend, Flash," Gwen says, her tone sharp. "And even if he was, it's none of your business. Just leave him alone."
Flash laughs, a loud, obnoxious sound. "What's the matter, Kepler? Can't fight your own battles? Gotta hide behind a girl?"
I grit my teeth, fighting the urge to punch him. I am not hiding, I was about to rearrange his face.
"Just go away, Flash," Gwen says, her voice firm. "Before you do something you regret."
Flash stares at Gwen for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he shrugs, a smirk playing on his lips. "Whatever. Not worth my time."
He turns to his goons. "Let's go, boys. Got better things to do than waste our time with these losers."
Flash and his cronies saunter off, leaving Gwen and me standing in the middle of the hallway.
***
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