Chapter 2

His days settled into a routine over the next few weeks. Up at dawn, calisthenics and a shower before heading to school. Zoe continued to pop up at the most unexpected times of the day, and of course in their three common classes. She had even, how exactly he still wasn't sure, had arranged it so they had the same lunch hour and drew him, inexorably, into her circle of friends.

Her friends were all very nice, he thought, but Zoe was most definitely the point about which all others orbited. She seemed to have an inexhaustible supply of cheerful energy from which the others seemed to draw comfort.

After a couple of weeks, he found that the other students assumed that he and Zoe were dating, though nothing had been said between them to indicate that the subject was even on the table for discussion. It was all quite perplexing.

His days continued to plagued by headaches, his nightly efforts at strengthen his shield coming to naught. He was beginning to hope that he would just get used to the pain, as depressing as that thought was. It wasn't until almost Thanksgiving that something happened to give him hope, and scare the pants off of him at the same time.

He had been at his locker when he heard a disturbance. He scanned the hallway with his eyes and his empathic sense, feeling terror from nearby. Pushing through the students between him and the source, he found a small-framed freshman boy cowering on the floor, blood pouring from his nose. A hulking student, a senior by the look of the patches on his letterman's jacket, was leaning over him, fist cocked to punch him again.

Something snapped in James head. A sharp pain struck him like a needle through his left eye and he found himself rushing forward.

Stepping forward, he slapped the descending fist enough to deflect it into the metal lockers, the resounding crash making everyone jump. As the bully felt the pain of the impact and began retracting his fist, James helped him out by adding to the momentum and spinning the larger student around to face him.

The senior, his face flushed with rage, yelled incoherently and swung his left fist at James, aiming for his nose. There was a lot of power in the swing, but in James mind it was as if it were in slow motion. He could feel the intent, clearer than any emotion he had ever experienced, even before the fist had completed the preparatory clenching.

He simply stepped left and, as the fist slipped by his face with a bare centimeter to spare, James grabbed it and pulled. The bully, now off balance, stumbled forward and straight into the punch James threw. He had cocked his own fist at his hip and, throwing his weight behind it, drove it straight into the solar plexus of the bully.

James was stunned at his own actions, unable to imagine what had come over him. The pain and confusion, not to mention the fury, radiating from his opponent seemed to wash over him without effect. He was able to analyze them clearly, but without discomfort. He found that his own emotions were out there as well, fury being the most evident. His heart was beating faster, his breath shorter and the adrenaline coursing through his body made him feel light as a feather.

The bully collapsed to his knees, his breath whooshing out in a blast, shock and anger on his face. He wasn't done though, trying to wrap both of his big hands around James.

James just grinned and snapped a kick to his chin that whipped the boys head back, his nose seeming to explode with a spray of blood. The bigger boy practically flipped over backwards, his head hitting the floor with a sickening thud.

The sound seemed to bring James down from whatever fugue he had been in, fear that he had killed the boy first in his mind. When the bully moaned and cradled his broken nose in his hands, James drew a big sigh of relief, but his head was still buzzing. There was something odd going on, and he couldn't define what.

He stood over the bully, his anger still boiling and he wished he could put a real fear into the punk, make him afraid enough that he would never try something like that again.

Then the boy started crying. James stood there in shock as tears ran down the bully's face, his eyes wide in terror. It was real terror too, radiating from him in vast waves that blanked out most of the other students in the hall. The bully began scrabbling backwards, still on his butt, until he fetched up against the lockers on the other side of the hall before curling up in a ball, his head buried in his arms.

James looked around and saw shock on almost every face. Some were staring at the bully, some at James, but everyone looked dismayed. Easing his shield down, he sampled the emotions flying around, finding that surprise, pleasure and fear were present in equal amounts, though some real glee at seeing the bully punished and a budding case of hero worship from the bully's original victim was bubbling up behind him.

Closing down as tightly as possible, James just walked away, back to his locker where he gathered his gear. The crowd was loud, people sharing what had happened with students too far away to witness the altercation. The students between James and his locker, however, were silent and they moved out of his way, forming a corridor through which he walked untouched.

He had just reached his locker when Zoe slipped her arm around his waist.

"That was very impressive, Jim." she said, as calmly as if she were discussing what was on the lunch menu.

James looked at her in surprise. He hadn't even sensed her near and had no idea that she had seen the altercation. He blushed.

"I ... I don't know what came over me. I just got so angry. I hate bullies, but I shouldn't have ... I. " he stopped, gathering his thoughts. "I am sorry you had to see that." he finished lamely.

"Oh, I don't know. It was rather ... um ... barbaric? I guess that is as good a word as any, but it will have repercussions." She looked at him, a serious expression on her face. "You will end up in the principal's office, for starters. No escaping that. Your parents will be called. Then there is the rest of the varsity football team, they stick together after all."

"Oh man..." James moaned, burying his face in his hands. "I've really stepped in it, haven't I?"

"You will have plenty of witnesses to support your side, you know. You were protecting a smaller student against a bully. His friends, of course, will tell the principal that he was simply handing out church pamphlets when you attacked him, completely unprovoked." she said, rolling her eyes and grinning. "He has been in trouble before. He has a record, and not a good one, so I think you will be ok on that front. You might want to keep a low profile around the football team though."

"I guess I should go and face the music." James said, his face grave. He wasn't as worried as he might have been, his mind still mulling over the boy's reactions to his, well, his projection? It would do until he could find a better theory, and experiment a bit. He had definitely projected fear into the boy, and as good as it had felt at the moment, it was terrifying in the possible scope.

"Thanks Zoe." James said as he closed his locker. Zoe's emotions were acting like a balm, soothing him. She was genuinely interested in how he was feeling, in his welfare. He could feel her concern, her warm regard, and it was very nice indeed. "You are quite a girl, you know?"

Zoe's nose crinkled, her eyes glittering and her grin irrepressible. "I know." she said, then shocked him by kissing him on the tip of the nose.

James presented himself at the office just a few minutes after the bell had rung, signaling the start of class. He would be marked tardy, but it seemed such a minor infraction compared to what he was about to face.

He told the receptionist why he was there, and the shocked look on her face told him as clearly as the secret thrill that raced through her, that she hadn't yet heard about the fight.

He was still sitting there almost an hour later, feeling more and more miserable, when the Principal bustled in, looking startled at seeing him sitting there.

"I am guessing that you are James Anderson?" she asked, her hands on her ample hips. Principal Meridith Winters was in her fifty's, about fifty pounds overweight and dressed head to toe in black. The only color on her were the strands of gray in her hair and some rather pretty emerald earrings. Her face, at the moment, was stern, but he had seen her in the halls before and when she smiled it turned her from the stern disciplinarian standing in front of him into a cheery grandmother just looking after her grandchildren.

When James nodded, she ushered him into her office and closed the door behind them. Pointing her index finger at the chair in front of her desk, she circled and sat down in her own.

James kept silent as he sat and watched her tap at her computer keyboard, her eyes darting back and forth, probably pulling up his records.

With a sign, she sat back and looked at him for a moment, then gestured as if inviting him to speak.

With a sigh, James told her what had happened, leaving out anything to do with his empathic abilities, of course. He stuck to the facts, trying to leave all emotions out, hiding behind the truth.

"Let me see if I have this straight. You saw a boy, one that is at least a foot taller and probably outweighs you by seventy or eighty pounds, picking on a smaller student. Deciding that the situation called for intervention, and rather than contacting a teacher, you stepped in." Her expression brooked no interruptions, so James kept quiet.

"Then if the tales I am hearing are even close to the truth, you proceeded to beat the snot out of the larger kid and leave him crying on the ground. You didn't say a word, according to witnesses, and they all swear that you weren't even angry, your face a blank. Then you walked away and came here. You realize that this is an extraordinary tale, don't you?"

"I suppose it must be." James admitted, feeling more and more like a fool for ever getting involved.

"I am sorry that you had to wait so long out there, but we had to get the Cullen boy to the nurse. You broke his nose and his wrist."

James felt even worse, tears starting to form in his eyes.

"I had sent for you, of course, and while I was waiting to hear you had been located, I interviewed a dozen witnesses. The funny thing is, only his fellow teammates place the blame on you. The other ten students have formed a solid wall of James Anderson support." Her voice, no longer as cold and calculating, actually sounded warmer at the end.

James looked up from his hands, surprised at the change in tone.

Principal Winters shook her head and sighed. "James, we cannot allow students to brawl in the halls, no matter the provocation. It is absolutely not allowed, and an invitation to anarchy if not punished every single time. As Principal, I am empowered by the school board with certain latitude in enforcing the policies handed down to me."

She rocked back and forth for a minute, her gaze on the far wall. "I think I will need to speak to your parents before deciding on this case. I would have to talk to them in any case, but I want to get a feel for things before I make up my mind. For now, however, you will report to room 120 for in-school detention. You will remain there for the final two periods. Your teachers will be informed and when the final bell rings you will report back here. No stops, no diversions. Straight here, understand?"

"Yes ma'am."

"In the mean time, I will be calling your parents and asking one or both to come to the school to meet with me. If they are able to come right away, I will send someone for you. If not, you will wait here with me until they arrive after school."

James opened up his shield, studying her flow of emotions, and was amazed by how distinct they were. She was impressed, dismayed, and a little sad all at the same time. He didn't sense any disgust or unhappiness directed at him, only at the situation. In fact, it was clear that she admiring him on some level and it made him feel a lot better about the whole mess. He had the feeling she would try to be lenient with him, and he felt as though a huge weight was lifted from his shoulders.

"You are dismissed, James and please, no more fighting?"

"Yes Ma'am. I am sorry I broke the rules. I have never had a fight of any kind before, and certainly never in school. Um, Ma'am, one of my friends told me that the entire football team would be after me now. Do you have any advice?"

She looked surprised, her gaze appraising him anew, and her emotions showing he had gained a point or two. "I suggest you avoid them, Mr. Anderson." she said, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "See if you can keep a low profile. I will have a talk with the coach and, of course, the teachers. No matter the provocation, take it to the teachers if you feel you need help, and no altercations in the halls. Clear?"

"Yes Ma'am, thank you ma'am."

He had been in the detention room for only a half hour, trying to read the assigned history chapter, when a runner from the office told the teacher on duty that he was needed. Gathering his belongings, he followed the student runner, his dread growing as he pictured the disappointment on his father's face.

Arriving at the Principal's office, he was shocked to see his mother sitting calmly inside instead of his father. He couldn't remember his mother ever coming to his school, preferring to let his father handle conferences with his teachers as so on. She brought him each year for his registration and, when he was younger, drove him to his first day, but that was always it until the next year.

His footsteps slowed and his empathic senses opened wide, narrowing in on the occupants of the office. His mother was angry, but calm. The Principal was apologetic, a little unsure and not a little annoyed at the whole situation. There was a third person present, a angry, mean-spirited individual. A man, certainly, a dark presence that seemed to chill the office.

When he reached to door, he could see the third person. A middle-aged man in a business suit, a little soft around the middle and with thinning hair, he still had the bulk that hinted at a past athlete gone soft behind a desk. His emotional aura was dark and disturbing, not a happy man at all.

James eyes went to his mother. Her face was calm, but he could tell she was unhappy. Some was directed at him, some at the Principal, but there was real anger directed at the other adult.

"Have a seat by your mother please, Mr. Anderson." Principal Winters directed. "We are waiting for one more person, then we can begin, again." She sounded tired and annoyed.

The balding man wasn't willing to wait, it seemed. "This is the boy who attacked my son? This wimp?" he asked Principal Winters, his fury evident. Then he turned his baleful gaze on James. "What did you do, you little shit, hit him with something when his back was turned? God damned cowardly shit."

My mother shocked all of us, me the most I think, when she shot to her feet, her finger almost touching the man's nose. "One more uncalled for comment of that sort and you can join your son in the nurse's office because I will surely shut your filthy mouth for you." She was so angry that she was shaking and, to James at least, seemed a force of nature, a being of fury and might. He didn't know whether to be afraid or proud!

Principal Winters sat forward in her chair and held up a calming hand. "Please Mrs. Anderson, let's not escalate the situation. As for you, Mr. Cullen, one more remark like that and I will have you ejected from school grounds. I will expel your son for the numerous complaints lodged against him, the numerous violations of the school rules, the code of conduct and the policies against bullying and violence against students. I warned you before that you and your son were walking a thin line." The ice in the Principals voice caused the blood to drain from his face, a grim expression supplanting the anger. He sat there and glared daggers at her, but kept quiet.

Mother, her lips white and her fists clenched, took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. She sat down, not looking at me, but reaching for my hand.

When the outer door opened, the Cullen boy was standing there. A bandage over his nose, both eyes starting to turn black and blue, and a look of abject terror on his face.

"Come in, Mr. Cullen. I am glad you are back from the hospital in time for this conference." Principal Winters said, pointing to a chair on the far side of his father.

Cullen, his eyes on James, sidled around the room towards the chair, his gaze never leaving James'ss face. James, shame at what he had done a cold, hard knot in his belly, tried to duplicate what he had accomplished in the hallway. He concentrated on Cullen, projecting calm, trying to instill a bit of friendliness but leaving a kernel of fear behind. He wasn't sure what actually got through, but he was fascinated to see Cullen relax a bit. Not much, mind you but a bit.