ʀᴇᴄʟᴜsᴇ! homesick

CH 8: Gotham Academy

School becomes my new normal. After many close calls with the Batfamily, I decide it's time for Dark Web to lay low for a while.

So my focus is passing, and surviving, school.

Anita is my only friend, and the only friend I intend to keep. We're not close, we're only friends at school. She is insanely smart, and quiet, but I take comfort in her silence. She also plays the violin, and loves music. I honestly haven't had time for passions or hobbies with being Recluse, so I'm not as interesting as I used to be. I used to be involved, and spontaneous, but now I'm a shell of the person I was before I activated my powers.

So I fell back into one of my old pastimes: reading. And it consumed me.

One day in English, I decided to read instead of paying attention to the book we were reading in class, The Great Gatsby. Such a perfect book to introduce to the kids at Gotham Academy, and I know that the teachers have selected this book on purpose.

Mrs. Roosevelt calls on me to read. I look up, and she smirks with a all-knowing smile, because I haven't been paying attention. "Ms. Parker, open your book to page 111, and read the last paragraph."

I close my copy of Little Women, and glare at her. From memory, I begin reciting, "Through all he said, even through his appalling sentimentality, so was reminded of something-an elusive rhythm, a fragment of lost words, that I had heard somewhere a long time ago. For a moment-"

"You've made your point, Ms. Parker. Now open the book and pay attention." She fumed as she interrupted me. The class laughs, until I turn around and glare at them. I hear whispers of how the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, because sometimes my iciness matches Damian's, and from others I hear the phrase 'Robin Hood'. I hate my classmates, but Anita begins giggling next to me because I was caught.

I can't stand learn history at Gotham Academy, because I have to relearn mostly everything I've ever known, and I have to learn the city's history on top of it.

I'm just grateful for when it's time for P.E., because it's the end of the day.

The locker room is an interesting situation. Most of the girls mock me or make fun of me that I go change in the bathroom rather than in front of my locker. It makes me smile when I know that I have abs, but I know that their jealousy would be worse than their pretense.

Another reason I like P.E. is that I know Tim in that class.

But it also means I have to be more careful. Sometimes I don't participate, and even when I do, I don't try. But the competitive side of me is killing me for doing this.

Like there's a fitness challenge where you have to climb up a rope that's tied to the top of the ceiling, and you guessed it, Dick Grayson still holds the school record. And I know I could shave off a few seconds from his, and I know I could beat Tim at it, but I choose not too.

Tim doesn't suspect me of anything yet, and I don't need to give him a reason to.

But today might be the day I let myself fade out of the façade for an hour or two.

Today, we're playing dodgeball.

Usually, the teachers don't care, they make us do a couple laps around the gym, before letting us play basketball or volleyball, but Fridays are game days.

Teams are divided up, and I am one of the last people chosen, because many believe that I don't have an athletic bone in my body. I've played sports for years before I was ever a hero. Dodgeball was easy, and it hurt my ego that I was almost chosen last.

Me and Tim were on opposite teams, he only looks at me and shrugs in apology. I smile, and shrug back, because he doesn't know what he's getting into.

We head to opposite sides of the gym, and our teacher blows his whistle, and then he studies a clipboard with football plays for the team. I don't rush for a ball like the other boys do, I wait for them to come to me.