Morning came all too soon for Reese, and he found himself stuffing his tablet and supplies in his backpack with just minutes to go. He spared a half second in the bathroom to brush his teeth and comb his brown hair back. Reese growled as he noticed the fresh pimple on his chin. He wished he’d grow facial hair already to hide stuff like that.
Reese leaned into the mirror closer, fingers poised to pop the little sucker into oblivion.
“We gotta go!” Sheila yelled from the kitchen.
He cleaned the area where the pimple had once been but the blood wouldn’t stop. “Heck…” Reese mumbled, reminding himself that popping them was worse than letting them resolve themselves. He couldn’t help it! It was gross. He didn’t want something like that on his face for the first day of his new school.
“Reesey!” Sheila yelled in a singsong way.
“Coming!” he replied, then hastily pasted deodorant on each pit. He jogged down the hall, one arm sticking out through his favorite hoodie and the other wrapped in his backpack. His mother ran towards him with a sack lunch.
"Tacos?" Reese asked.
Sheila nodded. "And I filled up this bottle with plenty of vitamin enhanced water, to help keep your immune system high."
Reese moaned. "Mom, not this vitamin water stuff again."
"If you're going to be putting your body through hell, then you need to treat it well when you do treat it all. Plus, I hear it fights pimples."
His hand shot up to his chin, covering the spot where he’d destroyed the unwelcome facial invader.
“Oh, you can hardly notice. It’s fine.” Sheila scowled and waved the lunch bag at him. Reese grabbed the lunch with his other hand, keeping one poised defensively over the blemish.
“Remember, your father and I are going to be at the restaurant tonight, but I don't want you out late." Sheila said with a stern glare.
Reese shriveled under her gaze. "Okay, okay. Practice will wrap at seven.”
“I’d be happier if there was no practice at all,” she grumbled.
“Oh yeah, mom did you show dad that new animation I made?" Reese designed characters for the restaurant entryway. The kids loved them, and Reese’s analysis of foot traffic attributed the new characters release to a five percent increase.
"I'm sorry honey, I haven't. I know he wants to see it, it's important to him. You make really good characters."
Reese nodded, but his heart sank. "Thanks mom. Just pitch it to him like this," he cleared his throat and took on a high-pitched impression of his mother. “Do you want better business? This is how you get better business!”
“That is not what I sound like!” she scolded as they walked to the front door.
Reese laughed. “Could’ve fooled even the smartest voice recognition software, without a doubt.”
Reese put his hoodie on the rest of the way and strapped is backpack in place. He opened the door to the hall and took off at a jog—no reason not to start practice early.
"I love you! Have a good day," Sheila yelled after him from the door while she set the lock.
"Love you too," called back from halfway down the hall.
He took the steps down to the bottom level time, then vaulted the final floor to the ground and tucked into a roll. He illuminated it his AR goggles with the terrain using Pulse, and his traceur’s mind went to work plotting a course. There were steps, retaining walls, short gardens, and handrails that all presented new and interesting ways he could interact with his environment to get from point A to point B.
He took off at a run sprinting past other early morning pedestrians on their way to work or school. Reese found fun and easy ways around them by stepping up onto a raised garden, or vaulting over a retaining wall. Reese could feel the tense soreness in his muscles with every movement and knew that he need to practice more. The race yesterday had taken a lot out of him, and he knew that the Ascension Heat would take even more. He wanted to be ready for whatever the street had to throw at him.
The last student was loading onto bus when Reese pulled up, panting a little. He stepped up the stairs and the bus driver stopped him with a hand out.
"ID?" The bus driver, a particularly bored looking older woman asked.
Reese used his AR glove tapping away at his fingers to open folders, and different views then projected his new school ID out for the bus driver to see. Her eyes traced the lines of his identification behind her AR goggles and then she nodded. "Head on back, sweetheart."
Reese’s pounding heart went into overdrive when he stepped up to the first bench. All the benches were occupied, and most the students plopped their backpacks next to them to avoid conversation. His eyes scanned every option quickly.
One kid was rapping to his Peeps, thrusting his hands about and spitting quiet, subvocalized rhymes. Another girl behind him and on the left held a holo-imager over her head, taking three dimensional selfies. Then, red hair caught Reese’s eye; it was Samantha H. She’d been nice enough—in the end. It had been a competitive race after all, and she’d given him the pauldron so, she couldn’t have been half bad.
He walked down the aisle to her bench. She was staring pointedly out the window and didn’t look at him when he stopped beside her.
Reese cleared his throat. “Hey. Guess we go to the same school.”
“Neat,” she said, her voice bored.
She didn’t look at him, but Reese was happy she hadn’t. With the pimple on his chin and the embarrassment making his cheeks red-hot, he didn’t want anyone looking at him.
“Well, do you mind if I sit here?” he asked, his heart thudding.
“Yes.”
“Ooh’s” and laughs of surrounding students burned in his chest. It was just like his first day at the Bellows. He’d always been the kid who folded in a conflict. It wasn’t that he was a coward—he’d become pretty strong from his training. It was just such a hassle. He didn’t want to deal with anyone else’s bullshit, and fighting them would just cause more bullshit.
But he’d earned a reputation at the Bellows, and he didn’t want to carry it with him here to Grandview.
Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.
Reese mustered all his anger and courage, then grabbed her bag and tossed it onto her lap. He plopped down at the edge of the bench with a huff.
“What is your deal?” Samantha asked, brow pinched in anger.
He’d thought after how they’d parted ways she’d be more friendly than this… his mistake, but he wouldn’t make another. He wouldn’t let her brand him a simp.
“Nothin’, what’s yours?” Reese challenged back, his pulse pounding in his warm face.
The bus took off with a jerk and the low rumble of the engine masked Samantha’s angry reply.
“What was that?” Reese asked, peeved.
“I said, my problem is entitled little boys touching my shit.” Samantha said, loud enough for everyone three benches up to hear.
Reese turned to her, frustrated. “Entitled? This is a public bus and that was an open seat your shit was blocking.”
“You could’ve sat anywhere else!” Samantha yelled.
“There were literally no seats left!” Reese’s chest felt too small for all the racket his heart was making.
“Settle down or you’re both walking,” the bus driver said over the speaker, eyeballing Reese through the big rear-view mirror.
Reese crossed his arms and scooted himself to the absolute edge of the bench for the remainder of the trip. It was only a few miles to school, but the ride felt like eternity. He could feel the anger radiating off Samantha in waves.
The bus stopped in front of the school and everyone got up. Reese turned to Samantha, guilt turning in his stomach. “I shouldn’t have touched your stuff—”
“Yeah, no shit.” Samantha said with a sarcastic sneer.
Reese threw his hands up. “Forget the rest of that apology.”
He turned away and headed for the exit with the rest of the students, his guilt replaced with anger. Who did she think she was?
Reese tapped away on his AR glove, pulling up his schedule. Perfect, English Literature first. Words. So boring.
No one paid him any attention as he made his way into class and found the seat highlighted in blue with his name above it. The teacher had put him right up front and center and Reese tried not to let his anger best him. Now he’d have to pay attention.
Reese was the first can the class, so he took a moment to identify the names of the students would be sitting around him. To his right he had someone named Joe car, and to his left was Elizabeth.
Before Reese could even sit down he looked the seat behind him, inside defeat. Samantha H's name hung over the desk directly behind his. So this is the kind of school year was going to be.
Reset down and pulled out his hollow pad_TK. Reese kept his eyes on his hollow pad, reviewing his schedule, as the students poured in. He didn't have to look up when Samantha walked in, he heard her mutter under her breath, "are you kidding me?"
Reese felt about the same.
The angry redhead stomped past Reese and plopped down into her seat behind him with a metal screech.
"Good morning students," said a teacher as they entered the room. She wore blue jeans and a floral blouse that made her look like she was from the turn of the century, and her accent made it clear she definitely wasn't from around here. She had some twangy accent so that when she said “good morning” it was more like “gud mornin’.”
A label flashed over her head in his AR vision; Miss Howzawits. All the sudden, together the students chimed, "Good morning Miss Howzawits."
"We have a new student today, would you like to stand up?" The teacher looked directly at Reese, who froze on the spot.
Why was she subjecting him to this ridicule?
Reese stood and gave a quick wave to the class before returning to his seat.
The teacher chuckled. "Now that wasn't a very good introduction. Tell the class a little somethin’ about yourself."
Reese wanted to die. He stood up again, more slowly this time. "My name is Reese. My parents own a restaurant in town. I like to animate characters and participate in heats."
Reese looks to the teacher, begging with his eyes to find out if what he had said was enough. Ms. Howzawits smiled and nodded for him to sit back down.
"What we say to Reese?" The teacher asked.
The students again chimed all is one, "Welcome, Reese."
Why couldn’t he die now?
The teacher launched into her lesson for the day, which included calling out notable authors of the early 19th century and 20th century. Specifically, she was talking about the book Frankenstein, by Mary Shelley.
Reese flipped through his holopad, looking at all the contents related to Frankenstein. Mostly it was movies. There was a lot of fanart online, fan fiction, at least 16 movie adaptations, and over 20 movie mentions. But the biggest mention he noticed was people fighting over the creature’s name. The debate was ridiculous, of course everyone just called the monster Frankenstein, but Frankenstein was the doctor. Just another bit of history lost to the wiles of society.
The class bell rang in Reese’s AR earbud, and the holopad in front of him on the desk deactivated.
"Now, I want y’all to read at least the first chapter before next class, that’s your homework. I loaded the book on your pads, but if you feel so inclined to visit the library, I’m certain we have a few paperbacks available." Ms. Howzawits said.
Everyone packed up their things, but Reese packed faster and bolted for the door.
“Hey wait up,” Reese heard Samantha call behind him, but he pretended not to hear her. He just had to get through another two and a half years of high school. He just had to ascend in a few weeks, and get a few more peeps. He didn’t have time for whatever Samantha’s crap was about.
Reese folded into the crowd of students and didn’t hear Samantha call for him again.
The rest of school was on remarkable. Since he hadn't made any friends, and the first night of homework was basic, he decided he would head to the nearest AR shop. He had earned just enough rank points to purchase a refurbished spine protector, and needed to make good on his promise to his mom.
He sped out to the bus stop, wanting to beat Samantha to the line. There was a lone bench at the back that was shorter than the others, making it hard to fit two people on it, and he rushed to claim it. The evening bus wasn’t as crowded as the morning bus, which Reese appreciated immensely. He was free to relax.
He scrolled through the difference hangouts near his house in his AR goggles for the duration of the ride. There are a few places that appeared to have street rats gathering, and even a few good training locations, or training programs. Reese was fine doing everything on his own, but it was nice to get out and see the competition ever so often. He dropped a few pins on all the locations, and loaded his map in the corner of his vision.
Reese wasn't in the biggest rush to get home—or to start his training since it was still ninety degrees out—so he stopped by the first hang out on his map. It was a combination skate park and kiddy park, with monkey bars, swings, and loads of stuff to climb on. It was a good area to train upper body strength. He would keep it in mind, but it was heavily populated with children. Children often got in the way of Reese while training, and there was nothing more terrifying than almost knocking a kid out while doing a Kong vault.
Next on his list was a rooftop milk bar, which was deceiving in its name. There was no milk at the bar at all, and it was mostly just dancing. They served something called Cactus Juice, which was a whitish-green liquid that didn’t look like it’d quench his thirst in the slightest. The rooftop had a nice view though, that seemed to be it—unless he was missing something.
When Reese was finally bored of checking out the spots, he headed to the AR shop near his apartment, AR Surplus and More. He hoped the more part was a digital media library. Reese had read through his manga supply twice over and was needing something fresh.
The shop didn't have the biggest selection of brands, and it wasn't very large, but the bargain bin was its own section. There were tons of refurbished items Reese could look through, and a few decent spine protectors as well. There was a new model that looks like the wearer had suffered a bad skid. It was mostly intact and twenty-five credits, so Reese considered it.
He opened the Street Heat app in his goggles and scanned the code on the base of the spine protector. The in-game item appeared in his goggles as Breastplate of Fortitude.
~[Breastplate of Fortitude]~
Class {UNCOMMON} Type {CHEST ARMOR} Restrictions {15 RP}
Attributes {+25 Armor} {+2 Stamina} {+5% to Vigor Regen}
--
He appreciated that the creators of Street Heat had put a price on equipping purchased items for their bonuses. It meant that someone had to earn their right to wear bought gear, which prevented rich little snots from owning everyone in the battles.
After a few minutes of digging, Reese also found a pair of gloves that were in good repair for five points and two credits.
~[Simple Spark Gloves]~
Class {COMMON} Type {Gloves} Restrictions {2 RP}
Attributes {+1 Armor} {+2 Intelligence} {+10% Spark Resist}
--
His old glove was getting too worn out, and he couldn’t trust it for the Ascension race. Having two functional gloves would let him add more hot-gestures for spell casting and make it possible to cast when either hand was occupied. There was a lot of strategy that opened for having two gloves, and Reese was going to watch all HiddenHunter’s videos on it tonight.
After waffling between the two different spine protectors, he decided to go with the one the least damaged. He took his items to the front desk, then screeched to a halt when he saw who was behind it.
Samantha.