As he went in and settled into his chair he realized he was sitting down in the beginning of a discussion already in progress between Shanna on his right, and Jim on his left. Jim's distinctive southern drawl, absent from his twin sister despite both of them having lived in Texas before moving up north, overpowered the room. "What's wrong with liking a car. If I had a car, I'd love it! I'd have pictures of it everywhere." Apparently Shanna had Principal Tompkins still on her mind, or at least his Mustang.
"It's not just liking with him. He spends half his time just staring at it out the window. You were in his office, Kyle, did you see him?"
Kyle thought back, though it was difficult getting used to speaking normally to Shanna. "Uh, yeah. Looked out at it before he started in on me."
Jim looked taken aback. "You were in his office? You actually did something? What'd you do, come up with a murder list? Set fire to the locker room?"
Shanna looked worried, but Kyle and Jim laughed. Kyle wasn't happy with his lot in life but there was a pretty big difference between being unhappy and being angry enough to do some real damage. Which never stopped teachers and other authority figures from sometimes watching him. The phrase 'It's always the quiet ones' just meant that the quiet ones got watched closer, which caused Kyle and Jim to come to the conclusion that was what drove the quiet ones crazy.
"Worse. Pushed down Brian Boyd." He forgot that he hadn't said anything about that to Shanna. He and Jim would commiserate on their shared dislike of him while they were talking about their school lives, usually at lunch or in this very spot. Shanna's sudden inclusion into their quiet discussions had him off guard. As both Jim and Shanna looked stunned at his admission, the conversation was cut off by Mr. Lyon announcing the lesson plan, a coding worksheet that was being passed around the room that was intended to take the entire period but from experience Kyle knew would take roughly fifteen or so minutes. It was simple, outdated Basic language stuff, something that he had down. As they got their worksheets, the three got to work, Jim finally finding his voice.
"You got into a fight with Boyd? YOU?" His voice almost got too loud for the class. There were a few "Shhhh" sounds around him, but Shanna picked up where he left off.
"What the hell are you thinking?" Shanna hissed, looking like she was...disappointed in him? Kyle couldn't make out the expression on her face.
"I don't know, all right!" Kyle exclaimed, and the chorus of "Shhh" came again.
"Calm down, this isn't the library!" Jim exclaimed to the shushers, and looked at Kyle, bidding him to continue.
"Sorry, sorry...He just bothers me every day. Hell, if it wasn't for John, I wouldn't have anything for lunch half the time. And the one time I actually do what people say, stand up for myself, I get thrown to the office. Gonna call home. So now I've got shit here, shit there. It's all shit." Kyle ranted, and finally came to a stop. He'd went off on rants before to Jim, and expected a comeback of some sort. But to go off in front of Shanna. God, he hadn't even got to the point where he could start anything and now it was over!
But she responded in a way he could not have predicted. She just looked at him with her big blue eyes, and put a hand on his shoulder, which amazingly instantly calmed him, though he thought her touch was pretty much short-circuiting his brain.
"I'm sorry Kyle. But you know what? He's nothing. He's always nothing. He's always going to be nothing. No matter what he does now or what happens to you now isn't going to change that. You're going to be great somehow, I can see that. " Shanna smiled a little sadly at him and his flabbergasted face. Jim's mouth had dropped, but he quickly recovered.
"So...when you get out of here, you're going to be a counselor then?" He smirked.
"Hell with that. Too much school. I'm going to be famous!" She laughed as she typed another line into the computer.
Kyle smiled. "I bet you will." She grinned, as Jim continued.
"Famous how?"
"Don't know yet, but I'll get there."
He nodded, and started typing at his own computer, and spoke again, jokingly. "So, Kyle. Boyd #1 on Murder list now?"
Kyle sighed. Horrible joke. Insensitive as hell. And yet Shanna smirked at it as she worked on her program. The conversation stalling out for now, he joined the two in typing.
The worksheet itself was a bit more complex than the three had planned on, and for once it did last until the end of the class. Jim had filed out quickly, winking at Kyle in the process as he left him and Shanna. Shanna smiled again at him and she moved to head out to her next class when Kyle suddenly had another burst of confidence that seemed to come from nowhere. He didn't know why, but now was his moment. "Hey, Shanna?"
She stopped at the door, and turned around, moving out of the doorway so the other slow moving students could file out to their next destination. "Yes?"
"I was, um, wondering...You wanna hang out sometime? Just us? No computer labs or Jim or principal with Mustang or..." He was starting to ramble and had momentarily forgotten how to finish a sentence. Fortunately, Shanna could finish it for him.
"Sure! You come up with a time and a place, I'll fit it in!" She winked, then headed out of the room again, leaving Kyle to wonder how the hell he just pulled that off, and what the hell was going on today that fit so many seemingly important life-changing events into such a short time. He smiled to himself, probably the first time to be happy on his way to phys ed.
The rest of the day passed pretty uneventfully, especially in comparison to the way it had started. Really, what could compete with Shanna, let alone having things come to a head with Brian? As he sleepwalked through a volleyball match which saw him rotate in and out twice with the ball never coming near him, he reached study hall none the worse for wear. He had little in the way of work to do, so he put his head back and allowed himself to daydream for a short while. Mostly about Shanna. The elation of finally making contact with the girl of his dreams was blocking the other potential crisises that were brewing just behind his subconscious. What was going to happen with his father that night? And then with Brian the day after? Every so often thoughts about those events would intrude on his otherwise pleasant dreams, but he pushed them away. He wanted to concentrate on something good for a change. And so he did up until the end of the day, and for the walk home.
Once past the front door though, and in an environment that only he and his father shared, the reality of the situation struck him with a growing nervousness in the pit of his stomach. Hoping to head him off at the post, he quickly went to grab the phone, it only being plugged into the landline in case of emergencies that Kyle didn't want to even consider. Checking the included answering machine and past phone calls, he was relieved for a moment to notice that there had been no calls to the house that day. But his happiness was dashed when he remembered that the office had his dad's cell phone number. Kyle thought as quickly as he could about alternate options he had. Guessing his dad's password on his phone so he could intercept the voicemail? Calling the phone company and posing as him? Nothing seemed feasible, and he felt helpless. By now Tompkins had almost certainly called, and if his dad had gone on break, then the message would have been received. Kyle slumped into the computer chair and stared at the blank screen. What was he going to do?
Interrupting his morose thoughts was the sound of a message being received. He reached out and hit the monitor 'on' switch, and the computer screen displayed, showing a blinking box and the sender of the message: Claire McClane, tormentor of John, and sister of Jim.
"'Sup, turd." Her terms of endearment were always the highlight of his day.
"Nothing." Kyle was not remotely in the mood to talk, which recently seemed like a beacon to attract everyone to his side.
"Heard you laid out Boyd. Nice going."
Kyle shook his head, exasperated. "No! I pushed him. That's all." The last thing he needed was a story going around that he had beat up the bully. He was still hoping for a solution to this that didn't result in his getting pummeled, and a sto
ry such as that would just end up making Brian madder.
"That's what Jim said. Or what he's telling people, anyway. Anyway, need a favor, I was out ‘sick’ today, in case you haven't noticed." Kyle hadn't had time to notice her absence considering how much John still complained about her. "What's the reading for History?"
"I'll tell you if you lay off of John. I'd like to know if he knows how to talk about anything besides you bothering him."
"He took me for fast food tacos! On a date!"
Kyle thought for a moment. "A year ago! What do you like on a date?"
"...Are you asking me out? I'm going with Daniel. I'm flattered though.."
"NO! I mean..." There was no good way to come back to that, and he hoped that she knew better . They'd known each other for a long while, and while both were friends, neither had any romantic inclinations towards the other. "For John."
"You're asking out John? I didn't know!"
"Oh for the love of..." He typed furiously, getting frustrated at either her lack of intelligence or her incredible ability to get under his skin just as easily as she did John. "So I can tell John what he did wrong so he stops wondering. If you people would just talk to each other it'd make it a lot easier for the rest of us."
"Ah, okay. " A beat passed between that message and the next. "So it's not about Shanna Ewing, then?"
Kyle didn't type a response. He didn't want to have a conversation with her about Shanna. He knew exactly what she would say. Unfortunately, he didn't have to say anything, she just continued on her own. "Let me give you some advice, kid." He was about to type a reply that he was older than her by a few months, but she didn't give him a chance. "Stay away from the redhead. She sits at the wrong table. Only thing you're going to get by chasing after her is sore legs."
"I don't want to talk about it. Reading is through page 125. Goodbye, Claire." He signed off quickly before she had a chance to respond. Claire could be so stuck up sometimes. So what if she was a cheerleader? So what if they likely wouldn't have too much in common? So what if they didn't have any friends together other than Jim, and he probably didn't classify to her more than just someone to talk to while typing the latest menial task or surfing the web through the school's restrictive web filter. At least he now had a chance. Avoiding the chat option entirely, Kyle lost himself in the internet for a while, feeling his eyes glaze over until he was interrupted by the sound of keys in the door, and he was reminded suddenly of all his dread. His father was home.
He shot out of his chair quickly when his father entered, a taller, rounder, bespectacled version of Kyle. Richard Edison stopped when he saw Kyle standing awkwardly by the chair, expecting him to say something. He ran a hand through his brown hair, and simply said, "...Hi?''
Kyle was surprised that there already hadn't been an accusation, an argument, something about his earlier lapse in judgment. Instead Richard, still appraising him strangely, walked to the kitchen to put his briefcase down. "What's for dinner?" Richard asked, leaving the choice up to him. This wasn't too much different than most nights, which was what was worrying him.
"Uh, spaghetti?" It was easy, nothing that took a lot of work to do, and besides, Kyle liked spaghetti. If he was going to be shortly marched to the firing squad he might as well have a good last meal. The water was heated, the sauce and noodles cooked. All through the preparation Kyle kept an eye on his father to try and discern his mood; to prepare himself for what was coming. Richard gave no sign whatsoever that anything was out of the ordinary. Finally the pair sat down with their bowls, and began eating.
Richard looked up at Kyle. "Anything exciting happen at school today?" There was a pregnant pause. Was this all just a game to him?
Kyle challenged him to make the first move. "Nothing out of the ordinary. Anything exciting at work?"
Turning the question around was a new tactic for Kyle, and it left Richard a little unprepared. "Uh...No. The usual paperwork."
"Good...Good." Kyle suddenly found his remaining spaghetti incredibly interesting as Richard looked down at his plate. He was about to dig back in when he glanced back up and saw Kyle glance at him like he was waiting for something.
"All right, what's going on? You're acting strange tonight."
Kyle sighed. "I'm fine, everything's fine. Nice and normal." The waiting for his father's anger was too much, especially with how calm he was being. Was this a trap? Was he waiting for an apology? Instead of asking questions, just letting him come to him for forgiveness? Kyle decided that he wasn't going to do that. He had nothing to apologize for. He looked at his father, saw him still looking at him oddly, and finally couldn't take it any more. If his dad wasn't going to say anything, then he would.
"Why haven't you said anything about today?" Kyle stared at his dumbfounded father.
"What about today?"
"C'mon, stop it. Brian? The school calling you?"
"I didn't get any calls from the school today." Richard sat back in his chair and folded his arms, looking at him over the lenses of his glasses. "Should I have?"
Oh shit, Kyle thought. "Uh, I thought I heard..." Well, he had done it now.
"What happened, Kyle." He hadn't meant to sound so stern, and the words came out more as an accusation than a question.
"Brian Boyd. Big guy threw my lunch on the ground. I pushed him. We both got sent to the office. Got out with a warning but they said they were going to call you."
"Oh for...Kyle, we've talked about this! How many times have I tried to tell you, you can't stop a bully with more violence. If you leave him alone, he'll..."
Kyle wasn't in the mood for this particular lesson. "'Leave me alone?' I've been giving the guy my lunch money for a year! Just handed it over like nothing and ignored him like you always said and all I am is hungry all day!"
Richard was quiet. "Kyle, I didn't know...I'm sorry, if you would've said something..."
"What would you have done? You didn't care, just send me off and go off and work or whatever the hell you do and just come home whenever you like. Just leave me alone! All right!" Kyle pushed his plate away and ran off to his room, the door slamming shut behind him. He fell onto his bed, not remembering the good things that had happened that day, not remembering Shanna, or talking to his friends however briefly. Just the disaster with Brian, and the disaster tonight, and the disaster yet to come with Brian tomorrow. He didn't give a thought to what had happened with the phone call that never took place. It was a while before sleep took him, and while some nights he had pleasant dreams, tonight's were not reassuring at all, with the worries of the day carrying over into the night.
5
The empty blackness was still and quiet, despite trillions of lives in colonized planetoids and moons mere light years away. The only thing present in this portion of space was a small blinking beacon that sent off a signal letting any passing travelers know the status of the tear. The beacon blinked off and on once every five Earth-seconds or so when it was quiet, like now. Suddenly it started going faster, four seconds, three, until soon it was just a solid light. Small electric streaks began flowing over a straight line up and down, the length of the invisible tear in space, and suddenly a bright blue light erupted out of the streaks, and when it dissipated, there was no sign of the tear, and the beacon had reverted to one blink every five seconds. The only difference was now a TK421 Supernova hopper in the color of peeling brown was present. It was stationary for a second, then its engines converted to free space mode, and it began to move.
Inside the craft, Critock yawned, passing his fingers over the screens quickly, setting a course for a place he once considered home. He wondered what madness was now driving him back here. Money, he realized, it could only be money. The only cruel mistress he had left. There was an answering yawn from behind him, and he had to restrain his first instinct of spinning around and attacking as he remembered he was not alone on the vessel. Tomkari slowly floated towards him, before settling at head level where the untouched co-pilot se
at was. Critock smirked. "You know, you can be anywhere. You don't have to sit down any more."
"I know, but it's nice to remember the old comforts once in a while. Flight going okay?"
"If the money's there when we land, flight will have been just fine." Critock wasn't about to let him forget.
"The money, and the Qua'roti. That's the plan." They silently watched the screen together before Tomkari spoke up again. "I wanted to thank you."
"Thank me? What for?" Critock began setting the final approach vector for Marconia Prime.
"You call me a soul. Nobody ever calls me a soul outside of the Qua'roti."
"Well, that's what you are, isn't it?"
"Well, yeah, but that doesn't mean anything to most people I come across. It's always 'comet' this or 'spit' that. It gets tiring."
"They're just afraid that you're gonna take their body for a joyride." A particular quirk of the Marconian soul physiology was that their consciousness could override another's for a short time by absorbing itself into their body, forcing the body's own self into a secondary state. That was the theory, anyway. Critock could only think of a few times that a joining had went well for both parties, and even then the consciousness could only remain for a short while, lest the occupying soul completely take over the body, and push the original mind to a more-or-less permanent dormant state.
Tomkari seemed offended and scoffed at the notion. "I've never heard of a soul that tried that. It's part of our oath with the Qua'roti that we never attempt a joining. We are true to our own selves, not the body masks we choose to wear. And I’m certainly not interested in taking anyone's body away from them.”
Critock put his hands up. "Just saying. I've come to like my 'body mask', thank you very much. At least this one." He shuddered to think of the 'other' that he could become in desperate circumstances. In a lifetime of war he had only had occasion to change forms to the 'other' once, and he could never forget how his body changed, how his mind changed to suit it, and had filled him with a sense of unending rage and anger until he could wrest it back under control. "Good for you. Be who you are, not what anyone thinks you should be." He tapped a few controls and watched his screen as an incoming communication displayed itself. "You're on, Tomk."
The Joining: The Saga of the Shards Book One (The Cycle of the Shards 1) Page 7