Artemis Lian Crock was so dead.
First day of her sophomore year, and already punched a kid.
Way to go.
Her asswipe of a gym teacher tightened his grip on her bicep as he marched her to the office. She didn't even know if teachers were physically allowed to touch students, let alone manhandle them while forcing them to the office. What was she, three? She knew how to walk without assistance from the world's worst P.E. instructor.
They reached the office, and he swung open the door, roughly pushing her inside and leaving.
Not even a goodbye, she thought sarcastically, slouching in one of the waiting chairs. Florence , the desk lady, (or at least that's what Artemis calls her,) was typing away on her computer, as always. She was in her late fifties, early sixties, and Artemis honestly had no clue why she still worked here. She had never seen Florence move once, only her fingers flying across the keyboard. It was like her old lady ass was permanently glued to the black, cushioned deskchair that had been there for as long as anyone can remember.
Artemis picked at her too-short skirt, trying as hard as she could to stretch the hideous plaid fabric to its maximum length. Stupid skirts. Why couldn't the girls wear pants? Was it chiseled into the almighty stone of fancy prep schools that girls were required to wear skirts that practically show their asses?
The principal's door slid open with an ear-splitting squeak, making Artemis want to throw the cheap, uncomfortable chair she was currently sitting in at someone's head.
Principal Tornado stepped into the doorway. He was a pretty tall dude, in his early thirties. Tornado wasn't his real name, of course. A nickname he had been given in his high school years for a basketball move or something.
His eyes narrowed when he saw Artemis. She got up and followed him into his office. She slid into the slightly more comfortable chair facing his desk. The office was bland, except for a few pictures and a degree. Artemis had the pictures and degree memorized. She honestly would bet that she had spent more time in this office than actually in her classes, yet she still hadn't been kicked out, which was surprising, considering all the shit she had pulled.
"Miss Crock, what is your reason for punching Shane Peters this time?" Tornado asked warily.
"He was picking on someone. He deserved it."
It was third period chemistry when Shane Peters, being the douche bag that he is, decided that it would be funny to terrorize Bart Allen, the small-but-brilliant freshman who was smart enough to be in sophmore science.
The mini-nerd was tying his shoe, and Shane grabbed his science notebook, laughing obnoxiously. He started throwing the notebook back and forth across the room between him and his henchmen, Biff and Rip. Those weren't their real names, but since Artemis didn't give a shit what their actual whiteboy names were, she called them Biff and Rip.
Bart frantically jumped up and tried to get the notebook, but he wasn't tall enough, and Shane, Biff, and Rip were, like, each six feet tall. Artemis stood at her seat, torn between helping and just watching. She knew that if she helped, she would end up probably punching the shit out of Shane. But she couldn't stand watching those nimrods throw that notebook back and forth, so she decided to step in.
"Hey. Fuckface. Give the kid his notebook back," she said, stepping forward with her arms crossed.
"What if I don't? Whatcha gonna do about it, Blondie? Strangle me with your ponytail?" He sneered.
She tried to keep her temper in check, she really did. "Just give the freakin notebook back, jerkoff," she said, eyes narrowed.
"No one asked for your opinion, Barbie. Go back to Malibu or something," he retorted, causing Biff and Rip to snigger.
That was it. Artemis punched him in the jaw, sending him reeling back into a desk. She then kicked him in the shin. He lied on the floor, eyes wide. "Got anything else to say, numbnuts?" She picked up the notebook and handed it to Bart, who watched the whole thing with intent and a small grin on his face. "Here."
He nodded. "Thanks."
"My pleasure."
Mr. Tornado sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "How many times have I told you Miss Crock, physical violence is never the answer?"
She rolled her eyes. "Too many," she muttered under her breath. "But do I listen?"
Apparently, he heard her, because he said, "Miss Crock, detention, every Saturday until October. You may go."
She gaped at him. The freakin asshole had deserved it! Fuming, she pushed herself up and walked out of his office, nodding to Florence, then walking out into the empty hallway. The lunch bell rang, echoing through the empty halls.
Kids poured out of classroom doors, and Artemis was swept up into the crowd. Elbows and sharp corners of binders jabbed her in the ribs and arms, and she stepped on a few feet, pushing her way through the wall of plaid uniforms and finally reaching her locker. There was a small dent toward the bottom of the door where she had kicked it in frustration when it wouldn't open. She twisted her combination and yanked on the door, getting it open on her fourth or fifth jerk of the lock.
Her books were piled messily on the top shelf, and her pencils had already spilled from their magnetic cup holder attached to the locker door, splayed all over the bottom of the locker. Artemis groaned. This was not her day. She shoved her binder in the locker, and then slammed the door.
Suddenly, a face popped up. "Hey Artie," Dick said.
This would be the part where the screen freezes and the character bio pops up.
Name: Richard "Dick" Grayson
Relativity to Artemis: Best Friend
Age: 13 "almost 14!" (Not really...)
Skills: Freaking awesome hacker, genius, and crazy ninja
Notes: He and Artemis met when she moved to Gotham. Both share a passion for pissing off Bruce Wayne, Dick's adoptive dad. Has a massive crush on Zatanna Zatara, Artemis' other best friend. Artemis usually refers to him as Grayson.
The screen unpauses.
Artemis jumps. "Grayson, how many times do I have to tell you! Stop sneaking up on me!"
He cackled maniacally. "So, you gonna sit with me at lunch?"
She rolled her eyes. "Yes, dork. Who else would I sit by?"
He grinned. "Good."
They walked to the cafeteria, Dick rambling on about something science-related, and Artemis not paying attention. The cafeteria was packed, kids crowding around tables like swarms of bees.
Zatanna Zatara jumped up on her seat and waved her arms in the air. Artemis immediately noticed her, and grabbed Dick's wrist, dragging him over the corner of the cavernous room, where Zatanna had saved a table for them.
Artemis collapsed in her seat, feet hurting from the hideous, square-toed dress shoes she had to wear. Again, stupid uniforms.
Dick took the seat next to Artemis, pulling out his lunch, Zatanna following suit. They both had fancy lunches, Zatanna with leftover salmon from her dinner the previous night, and lemon meringue pie for dessert, along with freshly cut vegetables, and Dick with steak and mushrooms, having potatoes and homemade cookies. Both of them came from rich families... while Artemis' dad had left her immediately when her mom had got out of jail, and her sister had left years ago.
She stood up. "I'm gonna go get lunch. Forgot to pack one." The two nodded. Artemis walked over to the growing lunch line and leaned against the wall while she waited, wondering what there was today. Honestly, the food here was pretty good, as expected from a fancy academy.
She waited for about five minutes, until it was finally her turn. She picked up a tray of spaghetti and walked to the cash register, punching in her student ID and digging out a few crumpled up dollar bills. The lady, who's nametag read Lydia, looked over her lunch, constisting of chocolate milk, carrots, and spaghetti. She nodded and waved her off.
"Thank you," Artemis said. Always use manners, it was something her mother taught her. After she got out of jail, of course. The blonde started weaving her way through the cafeteria, trying to get to her table.
As she passed the popular bitches table, she glared. There, at the head of the table, was Samantha Mannino, the bitchiest bitch Artemis had ever seen. She treated every one around her like a disease, everyone except her henchmen in glitter heels- Skylar, Hailey, Gabby, Emma, Kristine and Liz- and the hot guys at the next table. Artemis honestly swore that they were all anorexic: they were freaking sticks, whereas Artemis actually ate lunch. They all hated Artemis because last year, she had stood up to then when they were picking on a kid in Gym. Samantha had called her a bitch, so naturally, Artemis called her a hippo prostitute with the depth of a shallow pool. Samantha had bitch-slapped her across the face. Now, Artemis don't take no shit from girls in tight-ass skirts, so she punched her in the nose. Turns out she broke it.
She kept walking, not wanting another visit to the office. Suddenly, a sparkly heel shot out, and Artemis' lunch went flying. Her lunchtray sailed across the cafeteria, and she fell flat on her face. Luckily, no Spaghetti got on her uniform, but she was mortified. Why? Because she just so happened to "trip" in front of the hottest guy in school, Kal Ahm.
She quickly jumped to her feet, and whirled around to face whoever tripped her. Skylar sneered at he, obviously fake lashes batting in faux innocence. "Sorry," she said in an overly fake, sugary voice. It took every ounce of strength in Artemis' s body not to rip out that girl's throat with the plastic fork that she still held in her hand.
Artemis turned on her heel, flipping Skylar the bird. The janitor, Mr. Curry, smiled sympathetically and told her not to worry about the mess. At least she didn't have to clean up the spaghetti smeared on the floor of the cafeteria. She slowly walked back to Zee and Grayson, still mortified.
She sunk down in her seat and sighed. Worst. First. Day. Ever. Fighting back tears of pure frustration and hatred and mortification, she bit her lip and put her head in her hands. Zatanna leaned over and gently patted her back. Artemis willed herself not to cry, because she's not a fucking pansy, and after a minute, her emotions were in check.
"You okay?" Dick asked.
She nodded and smiled, trying to forget about it. It's your first, day, it's been hell. It can't get any worse, right? "Yeah."
"They're just jealous, you know," Zee said. "That you actually have real friends."
Artemis laughed a little.
One of Alfred' s homemade cookies was pushed into her view, along with a decent-sized chunk of fish and some potatoes.
She shook her head, but smiled. "I can't take it, you know that you guys. It's your lunches, you guys eat them."
Zatanna shook her head. "Yeah, I don't think air qualifies as lunch. Now eat."
Artemis looked over at Dick, who pushed the food closer to her. "Take it. You know I always pack too much." It was one of the things he insisted on doing himself, packing his own lunch. He may be rich, but the kid is anything but greedy and self-centered.
Artemis opened her mouth to protest, because she felt horrible about the situation, but shut it when she saw her friends' faces. She smiled gratefully. "You guys are the best."
They grinned back, satisfied with themselves. The three idly chatted while thy ate.
"Anyway," Zatanna said, changing the subject. "Who do you have for homeroom? I was kind of late today..."
Dick smirked. "Your brush got stuck in your hair again?" This earned him a punch in the arm from both girls. Zatanna did have wildly curly hair...
"Hey, why weren't you in technology?" Grayson asked. "We have it together, and I was stuck sitting by Gabby, who kept petting my hair." He shuddered. "It was weird."
Oh, yeah, and the bitches were in love with Grayson.
Artemis grinned sheepishly, glad to have changed the subject. "Well, you see, I punched the bejesus out of Shane today in science."
Zee rolled her eyes. "How much detention this time?"
"Every Saturday until October."
Suddenly, the lunch bell rang.
Artemis stood up and stretched. "I should get to class. IM me tonight?"
Zatanna nodded. "I should too. Yeah, we'll talk tonight."
"What about me?" Dick asked jokingly.
Artemis rolled her eyes. "Yeah, you too, dork."
The three left the lunchroom and went their separate ways to their lockers.
Artemis was really grateful for friends like she had. Even if they were rich, they never acted like it. They were generous and awesome, and that's all Artemis could really ask for.
The rest of the day flew by quickly, and pretty soon, Artemis was walking up the stairs of her apartment building. Her canvas backpack rubbed uncomfortably against her shoulder, but she ignored it, reaching her apartment door. Stepping inside, she closed the door and leaned against the wall, closing her eyes in relief and finally prying off her shoes.
"Artemis."
She snapped her head up, and Paula Crock rolled into the room, wheelchair smoothly gliding toward her daughter.
Oh, was Artemis in deep shit.
"Hi mom..."
"Hello Artemis," her mother said, making Artemis wince. Her voice was calm, but it was somewhat a deadly calm. "Do you know of anything... interesting happening today?"
"Um, yeah... about that..."
"Artemis, I got a call from Gotham Academy today. The first day of school, and already punched a kid. Why?!"
Artemis hung her head. She didn't mean to frustrate her mom this much, she honestly didn't. It was just- it was hard to not punch kids when they were total idiots. "He was bullying this one kid. When I told him to stop, he refused."
Her mother sighed. "Artemis, when will you learn, physical violence is not the answer! How much detention?"
"Four or five weeks, every Saturday."
"Go to your room. I will call you down for dinner when it is ready."
"Kay." Artemis sulked down the hall and flung herself onto her bed. "Stupid people. Stupid violence. Stupid Shane."
Stupid 200 and something days of school left.
Suddenly, her computer beeped with a new message from Zatanna.
ZEELIGHTFUL: Hey. Your mom freak out yet?
ARTMAZING: yah... she flipped out
NINJA HAS NOW ENTERED THE CHAT
NINJA: hey guys.
ARTMAZING: sup pipsqueak.
NINJA: jerk. I'm not that short!
ZELIGHTFUL: um, yeah, if u haven't noticed, you're about 4 '7...
NINJA: ALMOST FIVE FOOT
ARTMAZING: Suuuure...
ZEELIGHTFUL: Ughh, sorry to cut it short guys, dad's calling me, and you know how he gets. G2g Ttyl.
ARTMAZING: bye
ZEELIGHTFUL HAS LEFT THE CHAT.
NINJA: hmmmm
ARTMAZING: what
NINJA: Bruce wants me to go to this stupid banquet thing tomorrow, he just asked me. Should i go?
ARTMAZING: aren't those things boring af?
NINJA: yeah...
NINJA: But the food is usually good.
NINJA: I might go...
NINJA: It's for a good cause... I think...
NINJA: yeah, I'm gonna go. Or else Alfred would make me clean.
NINJA: yeah.
ARTMAZING: glad I could help. My mom's calling me. I'm gonna go eat dinner now and get a verbal ass-beating. See you tomorrow.
NINJA: sounds pleasant. See u tomorrow
2,668 words. I'm proud.
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