Past the Windows

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Six Million Dollar Man

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The "beautiful people." This was the nickname allotted to those that were attractive beyond compare and often times tried to push it off as nothing. The people who had skills but 24/7 pretended they didn't have any. The kinds who secretly got into detention to 'meet new people in a different way' or something. Then after some passage of time, they'd end up with their dream date.

It was like the Breakfast Club had been bastardized several times over in a shed somewhere and given an incalculable number of illegitimate children. It was not a pretty sight, but that seemed to be what it was now.

Cross the front doors in.

To the place we thought the teachers lived.

-

Leonard "Len" Tavarsky crossed the halls of I.M. Paradigm High School. After hours the young lad was on his way towards a classroom for one of the school clubs. A small smile was etched onto his face as he scratched his short dark brown hair with a hand, and kept the other in the pocket of his grey and red hoodie, which he wore over a green shirt and jeans. His shoes were a dark blue, and a pair of sunglasses were worn over his eyes, the frame jet black and the lens scarlet.

He trudged along the hall as the lack of life began to lull him into relaxation. His eyelids began to weigh ten tons each, until he felt a soft bump. Something had made a rather gentle collision with him, and a droplet of heat slightly stung under his eye. He shot awake immediately to see an older gentleman crash into some lockers, screaming as he clutched his groin, now soaked with a hot, caffeinated liquid.

And then he was sent off to the library to endure detention with the other people.
 
Anette sat at the back of the library. She had her head in her arms lying on the table. She was staring out the window watching a squirrel nibble quick on the acorn it just found. Perhaps if she didn't skip so much she wouldn't have had to be here, then again, like that would happen. She never really cared about going to school. She preferred to stay at home, doing the things she wanted and not being told what to do. She made a sigh of boredom and tried to daydream about the music that she was secretly listening to under her jackets hood.


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Len was probably given the most honorable means of being sent into the detention room. By no means was it a painful experience involving having his hood pulled over him and being restrained as the male teacher whose crotch felt the wrath of a hot espresso tossed him into the room, and stormed off, reborn into a walking fury. Attached to his hood was a sticky note reading 'ANOTHER FOR YA' signed by a Mr. Ponydam, and addressed to a Ms. Vulpi. Why teachers possessed such names was beyond Len Tavarsky's factual means of reasoning, but imaginatively he formulated various ideas.

He spotted one of the first of the other students in the immediate 'joint.' Word on the street was that some kids were hiding out in detention because some of the school gangs had been on 'hunting mode' lately on specific kids they REALLY held certain disdains for. Others spoke rumor, though perhaps muckraking as it was believed that such detention seeking dead-men were to be picked out by, quote, "The Most Feared Homeboy" from so and so neighborhood.

But really, he didn't get the girl in the back. Something about her really just rubbed him the wrong way, and he aimed to figure a way out of the place before his meeting began-- Or in worst case scenario, ended.
 
Anette turned to see what the ruckus was coming from the door, she glanced over at the boy for a moment. She couldn't quite remember if she actually had ever seen him before but that was most likely do to the fact that she wasn't really there most of the time or because she just really didn't care. She rolled her eyes at the man, how dare he distract her from her music. She turned back away from him and down to her lap. She slipped the Ipod out of her pocket and turned up the volume ever so slightly to drown out anymore noise that boy could possibly make. She slipped it back into her pocket and resumed her watching of the hungry squirrel, it seemed to have found another acorn to eat. She made another sigh, the squirrel was free and she was stuck in this place.
 
The malice felt came upon him within moments. An emotional laser beam was fired at the back of his head, drilling through towards his brain and robbing him of wanting to move at all, for fear his next move would spark tensions in another. For so little, one could be castigated by peers. To be treated lowly because some loudmouthed individual tired of the educational system caught you committing the crime of getting up to sharpen your pencil, or do so much as sneeze.

"..."

He watched as the adult in charge stepped outside. A veritable Paul Blart of the utmost superiority in security. With that obstacle currently hovering outside the main doors, he patiently awaited the arrival of any others. And by patiently, it would mean he was slowly itching for something to do with himself while he was in this place. The thing about his classes wasn't that he didn't enjoy learning, despite it being labeled some kind of crime. It was whenever teachers were incompetent, or other students simply existed for the sole purpose of disrupting a lesson. 'The modern day public school system shall be forever hampered by such things.' he figured.

Then he took out a pencil and paper, and began attempting to draw something. That something was going to be the highly exaggerated vehicle of escape: A cross between the Ecto-1, DeLorean time machine and a UFO. The parts were at best strange when the lines came together into a coherent form, but in a way everything seemed to fit a spot, regardless how slanted or how technologically bizarre it was.

"Hnn." Was the small sound he made as he began to erase an error with his pencil's eraser, putting a hand on his cheek as he scribbled away.
 
Anette began to tap her foot a bit to the music coming from her headphones. She lifted her body up and stretched, bringing her hands above her head and reaching to the ceiling. When she pulled down she made a small yawn. While this was happening she noticed the teacher walking out. Well thats smart...leave while you're suppose to be watching us. She thought to herself some more. She looked back over to the boy who she had rolled her eyes to just moments ago. It seemed he was drawing something. If he liked to draw, then perhaps he wasn't so bad. Anette liked to draw herself, although they were usually a bit strange to 'regular' people. It was one of the things she enjoyed. With the teacher gone she felt the want to sing to the music she was currently listening to. That was another thing she enjoyed; music was her life and she loved to sing. Whether it looked like it or not. The fact was that she was very good at it.

" When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears. When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears. And I held your hand through all of these years. But you still have all of me." She began to sing softy. It was my immortal by evanescence it seemed that she was listening to. For Anette she ready didn't care if others heard her. It was what she liked to do, if fact she felt like that was what she wanted to be. A singer for a rock band.
 
"...?"

Someone had decided to sing. The voice itself was in Len's opinion, fairly decent. But he had just managed to calm himself down after there had been some form of peace and quiet. He tried as best as he could to keep up his faux blueprints for a Jack Kirby-esque ride of the most epic proportions, but his level of anxiousness began to climb a bit. His hands began to clam up some, drenching his sheet and forcing him to crumple up the ruined dream, now in a watery grave where straight lines were coming apart.

He stood up, and walked over to the trash can to discard of his failure. But the feelings would spend a holiday within him for a time longer. He would spent the next three minutes calming down as the girl's song played behind him, his mind immersing itself in images of science fiction. He pictured a group of scientist-explorers trekking through the lands of the unknown against hostile life forms that equally did not understand the humans, nor the curiosity they held. Such tales sparked his sense of wonder-- A thing which he felt many others lacked.
 
Anette stopped singing for a moment, her song had ended. She grabbed her Ipod once more and looked through the songs. What should I play next? She thought to herself. She was in the mood for something more upbeat now. The last song was a little bit of a downer and not a good thing when you're stuck being bored in detention. Scrolling down the list she noticed one of her favorite songs, Forced Feedback by Machinae Supremacy. She flipped it on. Once the song began to start she started to band her head a bit.

As soon as the chorus came around she began to sing it. "This is the world you're in. And this is where ours begins. A borderless nation of thoughts to replace. Your own inexistence in space." She sang.
 
Two voices exclaimed indignantly from the hall outside of the library, their voices harmoniously blending into one. "We didn't do it! We promise!" A growl of deep frustration was the only response they received before being unceremoniously shoved into the detention area, stumbling over their feet as they hopped forward several paces in order to keep their balance. "The twins again!" a rough, masculine voice shouted after them. Clearly he was too angry to even abide by the library's rule of silence. The twins glanced at each other and grinned. "He's the one who should be in here for braking rules," they continued together under their breaths. Standing as one, they surveyed their surroundings, gave each other a quick nod in some form of unspoken agreement and went off in separate directions.
One, who answered to the name Elizabeth, sat two chairs down from where the boy must have been doodling or writing by the look of his stationary that surrounded one of the work areas. She leaned over his supplies to get a better look at his papers, somewhat disappointed to see them still blank.
The second, who went as Julian, walked past the table where his sister's interest had been piqued, and towards the table where the young lady was singing as she gazed out the window. He decided to keep a greater space between them, sitting across from her instead of beside. He gave her a polite yet brilliant smile before whipping out a book from his back and becoming submerged in it.
 
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Anette glanced over at the boy who had just sat across from her. At that moment she had stopped singing, the music on her Ipod stopped. Pulling it out of her pocket, she looked at the screen. It was blank, she went to go turn it back on. When she did it only turned back off, the battery had died. She pulled the headphones off and made a sigh. What was she going to do now, her only heaven was just taken away from her. She then pulled her head down into the table and closed her eyes. What else could she possibly do now.
 
Okay. Some girl wanted to sit next to Len. Not entirely bad, now there were more people and he could probably slither away to some corner of the library and chill until his time was done. The girl who had been singing had stopped, and the small sound he had perceived with his sharp hearing had abruptly stopped. But the girl-- Annette looked to be really disappointed by this. But there really wasn't much he could offer to do right now, and he wondered whether or not to even help her at all. He just wanted a moment where he could hear himself think, without any sounds to have him maintain his vigilance. Len often kept his guard up when he heard sounds, something that had to be done to avoid the roads that trouble drove on.

The second girl-- Elizabeth had sat next to him. She looked at his papers immediately in the hopes of finding something extraordinary, but Len was not regularly an artist of any caliber, not even amateur. The machinery he had drawn was completely randomized, each line sent in varied direction and coming together to form devices whose appearance gave the distinct impression that if it had been real, it would have had no functioning capability to possibly do much of anything correctly other than exist.

"Not an art show." He mumbled. "Just passing the time."
 
The side of her head that was closest to the boy tilted away from him ever so slightly in an attempt to catch the light soundwaves that entered the air when he spoke. When she answered, it was in kind. "What makes time pass by faster, without leaving the impression that it was wasted?" she questioned in a hushed tone, ice-blue eyes watching him curiously for his reply.

Julian glanced up from his book as if a sudden thought had struck him. "Excuse me," he started, gently prodding the girl's barrier of newfound silence. "If you don't mind my asking, you wouldn't happen to play any instruments, would you?"
 
Anette raised up her head to the boy questioning her. " I sing and play piano." She said softy to answer him. "Why?" She then questioned him herself, it wasn't like many people talked to Anette. She usually was the one who was hidden away in the back or the one that they felt was too 'weird' to talk to. In fact she felt it a little strange that he even attempted to sit by her. In truth, Anette really wasn't how she seemed.
 
A good moment passed between the two. Len just stared at Elizabeth for a second, eyes and much of his emotion hidden behind red lenses, kind of just spending a moment looking at the girl. Either this was like something out of straight up fiction where Elizabeth here could whisk him away to some big thing he otherwise had no part of, or she was attempting something very cryptic to seem very cool.

Regardless what it was exactly, Len had refrained from dropping his mouth or using his jaw at all. He then went back to face the front, choosing not to answer. He missed the silence, and the silence of the room probably missed him too as the riddle went unanswered.

As the two others behind them came to a close in conversation for a moment, Len peered over towards the door. No one was in the halls, and that meant he could do some exploring. It was a building he had ventured through many times a week, but never in as much detail as he probably could now.

He made his way off to the side past a series of bookshelves in the labyrinth of tomes and texts about the dungeon of reading, attempting to lose himself somewhere. A minor scolding at best was probably in store for him on his way out of the building once detention was over, but it was certainly better than sitting around these people he did not understand, nor had any expressed desire to learn about.

But there was a maze of mystery before him, not even including the rest of the school. This generated a nagging feeling in his chest that demanded he ditch his seating, take his things and set off towards something more interesting.
 
Julian nodded his head slowly several times in acceptance of the information, eyes wandering away from Anette as he became submerged in his own thoughts. Her singing sounded extremely familiar, although he could not place where he had heard it. And, yes, in the memory it was accompanied by the pleasantly harmonious notes of a piano. The question of why caught him off guard, although he should have been expecting it. "Oh, uhm, just wondering." He shot a frown in his sister's direction and judging by the way her body stiffened, she could feel his eyes on her back.
Elizabeth otherwise refused to acknowledge her brother, more so absorbed in the odd version of a staring contest she was in. Perhaps it was only her mind running off on its own a little down the street of paranoia, but it felt as if Len were judging her from behind the glasses that hid his eyes so well. She was quickly able to brush off the feeling once he turned away from her, and her from him.
The hushed voiced of Julian as he leaned over her shoulder and whispered in her ear, internally made her jump, while physically she remained unchanged. "Stay out when we're not together," was the stern message. She pursed her lips, still not looking at him, and gave a single curt nod. He smiled affectionately at her, then ruffled her hair before returning back to his seat with a new book in his hands.
 
Anette watched the boy asking her all the questions. Once he got back she began to speak to him again. "I'm Anette." She said then began to switch the roles and question him. "What are you reading? Do you always read?" She asked him. She took a glance at the others but her eyes fell back on him, waiting for a response.She figured that she had nothing else to do, at least talking to him would pass the time a bit. In truth, she just wanted to get out of there. Although there was still apart of her that seemed to want to talk to him. Perhaps she was starting to feel lonely being on her own all the time.
 
"Julian," he replied in an obvious way that indicated that it was his own name. As if it could be many others'. He angled his head down at the table where the book rested in one of his hands. It was a moderately thick-set book, its cover in shades of sunset red and golden yellow. He turned the book in Anette's direction so that she might see it's title. Across it in three bold, all capitalized letters read 'EON'. "It's about eleven dragons who each symbolize one of the Chinese Zodiac animals, and humans called DragonEyes who can control them. Adventure, ambition and a bit of romance." He paused a moment in consideration of the second question. Was he always reading? A smile spread across his face. "No. I only do so when my sister over there," he pointed Elizabeth out to her, the female carbon copy of himself, them continued," and myself aren't playing our 'Perfect Twins' game. She hates books so they help to keep her away."
 
Anette looked over at the female twin and then back to Julian. She gave him a nod. "Then what do you like?" She then asked, for some reason trying to keep their conversation going. They were stuck there, what else could she do now that her music wasn't an option. Although it wasn't all that bad talking to him. He seemed nice, at least the first expression was. Anette usually waited a while before she started to judge what others were like. Some just seemed one way when they really were another.
 
Len soon returned, dazed and covered in markings which resembled the spine of a book. It was as if the books themselves had been hurled his way by some unseen force. He scrambled away from the bookshelves, quickly checking the red lenses and frame as obsidian as his own hair.

Like unto a piece of iron, his sunglasses were unharmed. He put them on immediately, and looked back at the bookshelves behind him, climbing up to his knees and shaking his fist in furious anger.

"I swear on my great grandfather's grave, I'll be back!" He thundered, nearly slipping a couple of times before finally getting to his feet, and using a finger to wipe off his two front teeth of a bit of blood, licking at it to get the remaining traces.
 
"Drama," was his immediate reply. "Theatrics, acting, call it what you like. I'm actually in the school's Drama Club. It intoxicating, being able to become anyone from any time that you like, with any form of mannerisms that you please, because it's not real. It feels like it is though, and it's amazing." He was smiling brightly, eyes seeing through the table that he and Anette were sitting at.

Elizabeth stood from her chair and within several silent strides was by Len's shaking fist, a half step behind him and slightly to the right, watching his reaction with interest. "Those books are killers," she agreed aloud, announcing her presence by his side. She was grinning widely against the urge to laugh at the red patterns the books had made across his skin. In admiration, she added, "You look good in stripes."
 
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