The New Kid. Temple Mathews
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and spun and neck-whipped the guy, then kicked his ankles out from under him. Two down, two up. He looked over at Duncan and Todd.
“You see where I’m going with this?”
“Holy crap!” said Todd, amazed at Will’s unreal display of speed and strength. He was like some super zombie mutant warrior you’d see on a video game, not a high school kid. Duncan was apparently not as impressed because he intensified his torment of poor Rudy, who by now looked like a cat who’d just crawled out of a rain barrel. He was quite a sight. His sleeves were too long and his pants were too short. Nothing about him seemed to fit. His hair looked like a soggy bird’s nest.
“Nobody listens,” said Will. He heard the sound of a jet taking off in his head and saw the red curtain drawing closed across his mind’s eye. He fought to remain calm. Can’t let anger rule my being! He closed his eyes tightly and a lone tear from his exertion escaped and slid down his cheek. Duncan’s face lit up with glee.
“Oh look, the New Kid’s crying. Oh, boo hoo—”
When Will opened his eyes again they harbored such fury that Duncan paused, releasing Rudy, who squirmed sideways as he hit the floor. In a flash Will was across the room. His blinding speed took the bullies totally by surprise. He buckled Todd’s knee with a thrust kick and then kidney-punched Duncan. Then as they swung at him he used their own momentum to duck and twist and bang their heads together. Then he stuffed their heads in the toilet one at a time then shook them like wet rats, and shoved them on their butts. Totally stunned, Rudy found himself liberated, and skittered sideways like a crab until he reached the door.
“Hey, what the hell?!” Duncan yelled as he felt the lump already swelling on the back of his head where he’d slammed against the wall. The toilet had jammed and was gushing disgusting skanky water and the floor of the boys’ room was now flooded. Rudy stood on shaky legs and stared at the New Kid. Will turned on his heels and exited, Thugs One and Two, who were still nursing their injuries, giving him a wide berth.
Out in the hallway Will walked back toward the chemistry classroom. Maybe with a little luck he’d actually make it to his first class. After an altercation such as the one he’d just experienced he always felt an odd mixture of shame and exhilaration. What kind of a person was he that he could so easily see the red and unleash his violent side? He was afraid of it and didn’t like letting it out. Okay, that was a lie he was telling himself, he loved letting it out. It just felt wrong.
Rudy caught up to Will and skipped alongside him. The little guy was totally in awe of the New Kid. With a sideways glance Will got a good look at Rudy, who had the usual teen pimples and hair so ragged it looked like he was wearing a mop. Right away he could tell that Rudy was amongst the walking virgins, dorky guys who’d never have a chance in hell of scoring with a girl. But right now Rudy wasn’t thinking about girls, he was still pumped up over being rescued and he bobbed up and down as he walked like he heard some silent funk.
“Hey, you’re the New Kid, right?”
“You’re pretty quick,” said Will as he kept on walking.
“Very funny, New Kid. You got a name?
“Will.”
“I’m Rudy.”
“I heard.”
“Anyway, hey, thanks. I mean, in the long run it’s probably not gonna do much good—I’m like perpetual cannon fodder for those jerks—but thanks anyway. I do think you’re going to regret throwing yourself under the bus for me, though.”
Will stopped and looked at him. “And why is that?”
“Well, Duncan’s the über-alpha male in this school and he’s got like his own skanky army of commando drones who do whatever he says.”
“So?”
“So, my guess is that he’s going to spread the word to have your head on a stake before lunch,” said Rudy.
“I can take care of myself.”
“Yeah, I scoped that out, but you don’t know what you’re dealing with.”
“Neither does he,” said Will.
Rudy smiled broadly, totally impressed. “Man, you got some big brass ones, for sure!”
“You ought to go change into some dry clothes.”
Rudy shook his head and danced around the hallway like he was the happiest kid on earth, not someone who’d just had his face toilet-trained.
“Naw, I like being wet, it reminds me of running through the sprinklers in summer.”
Will gave Rudy a sideways glance. “Rudy, you’re whack, you know that?”
Rudy smiled. “Hey, thanks, man!”
The boys’ room door slammed open and Duncan and his bullies blasted angrily out into the hallway. Duncan raised his fist and yelled at Will.
“Hey, New Kid! So you got in a lucky sucker punch. This ain’t over!”
“I never said it was,” said Will calmly.
Then he opened the door to his class and entered as Rudy watched in awe, a humongous smile spreading across his face.
“Cool. . . .” Rudy was beyond impressed. This was huge, this called for rejoicing! Someone finally had the cojones to stand up to the great Duncan Walker! He heard footsteps—which he knew had to be Duncan and his butt-faced cronies—and sprinted away from them down the hall.
Will breezed through his chemistry class, taking a pop quiz and purposefully missing a few of the rudimentary questions to make it look good. Inside he was laughing; he could teach this class himself. He skated through his trigonometry and government classes as well; all the information was stuff he’d learned years ago so the biggest challenge was to appear interested and not tip the teachers off that he knew more than they did.
Will saw Natalie again in his English class, where his ears perked up as he heard the teacher, Mrs. Nevins, a thin woman awash in freckles and good cheer, call Natalie “Miss Holand.” The face, and now the name—it was all too familiar. As the smiling teacher passed out copies of Romeo and Juliet, Will slouched in his chair and prayed not to be called on. He didn’t want to interact with Natalie like this. It worked. Mrs. Nevins assigned some other kid the role of Romeo and Juliet to Natalie. Will watched as Natalie and the kid performed a scene “with feeling” in front of the class. Natalie went first. As the color rose steadily in her cheeks, kids snickered.
“Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day. It was the nightingale, and not the lark That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear; Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate-tree: Believe me, love, it was the nightingale!”
Will knew the play fairly well. He wasn’t a big fan or anything but since he could speed read with about ninety-five percent comprehension he’d devoured every book he could get his hands on. He watched and listened, just like he always did; always on the sidelines, never in the social game in school. The kid mumbled his way through the passage, embarrassed.
“Um . . . It was the lark, the herald of the morn, no nightingale: look, love, what envious streaks . . . uh . . . the severing clouds in yonder east: Night’s candles are burnt out, and jocund day stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops. I must be gone and live, or stay and die.”
A few chuckles rippled through the room. Will just stared at the floor. Finally, he couldn’t help himself and looked at Natalie. She was still blushing.
When lunch time rolled around Will found himself in line at the cafeteria and immediately felt queasy. It was amazing how, at nearly every school, the lunch ladies were so freakish and hideous-looking that they were almost as scary as demons. Not a single one had turned out to be a demon yet, but he still watched carefully as they slopped the gut-busting institutional food onto those big, ugly green plastic trays. You never knew when patterns would suddenly change and if he wasn’t careful he might just get poisoned.