Mod High

The Misfits

"Good afternoon, folks! If you've been keeping up with our mini-series then you must be on the edge of your seats for our finale!" Victor held an unseen microphone as he monologued to an invisible audience. Kori and Garfield were absolutely loving the show. Richard and I, however, remained unamused.

"Five teenagers, wrongly convicted for disseminating against the precious code of conduct, were brought together by fate-"

"More like tragedy-" I mumbled.

"-and have since become your favorite gang of misfits!" Victor pointed at Richard. "We've got The Jock, The Cheerleader-"

Kori giggled as she lifted her pompoms. She only had the weekend to prepare for tryouts on Monday, so she was toting those things like her life depended on it.

"The Moron-"

"Hey!" Garfield protested.

"The Braniac-"

If my eyes had shifted just a little further I'm sure they'd be stuck behind my skull.

"And, of course, everyone's favorite, and your host for the evening: me." He proudly smirked at his introductions.

"When did I die and go to hell?" I grumbled.

At the end of the row we were seated in Garfield stifled a laugh. His failed attempt resulted in a muffled snort. I wondered what could be so funny. There was no way he could hear my commentary considering our distance. Richard gave him a good smack up side the head and he quickly straightened up.

"The world wants to know," Victor extended his 'microphone' hand out to Richard, "what will you be doing with all this freedom?"

Richard rested his fingers against his chin before responding. I didn't need to hear his answer to know he would be throwing himself into football and the Slade case. It's all the students in his field ever talked about. That name was like a silent whisper that haunted the hallways.

I unconsciously leaned against my chair with my arms folded across my chest. A groan escaped my lips. It was just loud enough that I would be unable to retract it or excuse it as exhaustion.

"Sounds like somebody thinks you need to get a life," Victor spoke out the side of his mouth before launching himself in my direction.

Perfect, I thought. You got yourself in trouble again.

Victor's imaginary microphone bursted my very real personal bubble.

"Care to share with the class?" He prodded.

"Not particularly," I replied.

I hoped that would be enough to change the subject. For a second it seemed like Victor was gonna change his target. And yet...

"People like Slade need to be taken down. We need people on this case, and I'll be the one who brings him in," Richard seethed.

"People like Slade are just a distraction," I retorted. "He's a metaphorical mask meant to protect the real villain as he reaps havoc on the innocent."

"What makes you so sure?"

"It's common knowledge. The purpose of any 'Slade' is to be caught. Meanwhile, the lord of this business is free to do as they please. In this case, distribute The Gem to rich and poor alike."

Richard rose to his feet. Victor knew well enough to step aside as his partner approached me. He placed his palms firmly on my desk. With his face aligned in proximity to mine, I could clearly see the slight flare of his nostrils.