The Fifth Strike

Chapter 1

Antonio Higgins sighed and kept his eyes on the clock as his professor droned on about whatever it was they were learning that day. He watched as the minute hand crept closer and closer to the four, when a bell would ring to signal the end of the day. His foot tapped against the smooth marble floor and his fingers beat a rhythm against the leg of his trousers.

And then it happened.

The soft chime echoed throughout the building, bouncing off of the pristine white walls. None of the teenagers dared to move an inch as they waited for their professor to finish her lecture. As they all knew: the bell doesn't dismiss you, your teacher does.

"Thank you for your cooperation today, students. You are officially dismissed."

With that the students began to rise and neatly filed out of the instruction room. They were all eager to be done for the day, but made sure to leave slowly so as not to make the professor feel like they hadn't appreciated her lesson.

Antonio stuffed a few papers into his folder, trying his best to hide the pages from his professor. He could feel her gaze on him as he packed up and silently begged her not to say anything.

"Mr. Higgins, please stay after class. I need to speak with you."

Antonio deflated and his gaze dropped to his desk as he waited for her next command. He knew none of the other kids were looking back at him, that would be nosy and in New Manhattan people just weren't nosy, but he couldn't help but feel self-conscious.

"You may approach my desk."

Antonio shuffled forward with his folders and school-issued instructional panel tucked under his arm.

"Place your folders on my desk. And stand up straight."

Antonio reluctantly did so, straightening his shoulders and staring blankly ahead. He tried to contain a wince as she pulled out a sheet covered in doodles.

His professor sighed as she looked over the sheet and sent him a disappointed glance. "How are you meant to learn anything if you spend your day scribbling away on paper? Where will this get you in life, Mr. Higgins?"

Antonio shrugged and the professor cleared her throat. "I don't know, ma'am," he amended.

"I would hate to have to report this to The Council."

Antonio's eyes widened and he shook his head frantically. "Please don't! I'll do anything!"

Antonio wouldn't mind if she told anyone else, but if she told the The Council he'd be punished severely. The Council was in charge of keeping order in New Manhattan and they were not known for being merciful.

"What other choice do I have? If you do not pay attention in class, how are you ever going to be a productive and useful citizen?"

"Please," Antonio whispered. He didn't trust his voice to remain unbroken if he spoke any louder.

"Begging is not admirable, Mr. Higgins," his professor lectured. "But I have made the decision to leave this unreported. I am aware of your situation, and because of your good behavior and dedication to change I will give you another chance to prove yourself."

His situation. Everyone knew about that--everyone always found out when you received a strike.

Antonio couldn't remember how he'd gotten any of his. All he knew was that one day at twelve years old he'd woken up with the black line staining the skin of his wrist. Twelve years old and he'd already gotten one of his allotted five strikes.

Since then he'd received two more.

He couldn't risk getting another one before adulthood.

"Thank you, Professor," he mumbled.