Chapter Text
Taylor looked up at the edifice of Arcadia High School and shivered. Involuntarily, she flashed back 9 months to the mall for a few long moments before someone knocked against her shoulder as they rushed past her to get up the main steps. It wasn’t directed, wasn’t targeting her like those first few months at Winslow, but it was enough to get her moving so nobody else would hit her again. It was just first day of school jitters, that was all.
Just inside of the main doors was a large lobby with wide stairs on either side leading up to a second floor. Directly opposite the doors was a full trophy case flanked by doors into the school offices. She remembered from her info packet that she was supposed to meet up with a school liaison first thing to get things settled before heading to her first actual class and she needed to check in. She was already kinda weirded out by how clean everything that she had seen so far was, and the front office was no different. The windows weren’t streaked by old fingerprints and… other substances. The counter in front of the secretary looked like it was actual wood and not slowly rotting particleboard. Even the people inside felt… not happy, per se, but focused. Satisfied. The Winslow staff had always felt defeated. Resigned to the decay surrounding them.
After identifying herself to the secretary, Taylor was directed to a short row of seats along the wall. She didn’t have to wait long before a fit, middle-aged Hispanic woman came from out of the warren of offices and approached Taylor, extending her hand to shake.
“You must be Taylor Hebert. Nice to meet you. I’m your guidance counselor, Ms. Garza. Let’s go back to my office.”
Taylor directed some of the small insects out on the grounds to scurry around in patterns for a bit, trying to keep her nervousness from showing while she shook the older woman’s hand.
“I’m Taylor, yeah. Um, are you, uh, know…?”
“In my office, please. Loose lips sink ships, after all. This way.”
Ms. Garza directed Taylor to follow her as they went back to a small-ish, but well-organized office. She sat behind her desk, unlocked and opened a drawer in one of her cabinets, and pulled out two slim files. Taylor looked at them curiously as she sat across the desk.
Placing the files on her desk, Ms. Garza turned them so Taylor could read the labels: “Hebert, Taylor” and “Thompson, Albert”.
“These are your files, Ms. Hebert. Your official one where all the usual student stuff will be recorded. This,” she tapped the one for Thompson, “is your alternate file to keep track of your Wards-related paperwork. In code, of course, in case someone other than the principal or me looks at it for some reason, and all electronic student records are heavily encrypted as a matter of course. I’m showing you these so you know that we take your security and private identity very seriously.”
Taylor nodded, a little shocked. “Um, that’s impressive. You do this for everyone?”
“All the Wards, yes, and any other parahuman students we’re unofficially aware of. This is for everyone’s protection, you understand.
“Now, my official job here is as the guidance counselor for freshmen, but it’s not uncommon for students to form bonds with counselors other than those in charge of their grade level, so you meeting with me occasionally won’t raise any eyebrows. I assume you’ve read the standard new-student info packet?”
Taylor nodded and tapped her new backpack.
“These were more… detailed than when I started at Winslow, but it said that there were some things I’d be getting here? I thought that was Wards stuff?”
“Some of it is and we’ll be going over that in a second. But these,” Ms. Garza pulled a sheet of paper from Taylor’s official file and slid it over to her, “are things all incoming students get. Your locker assignment and combination, a list of textbooks to pick up from the librarians, a map of the school with your classes highlighted, stuff like that. It also has the password for an encrypted document that is being sent to your school email address that includes rules and regulations specific to the Wards. Read it carefully.
“I know that Winslow has limited elective classes or clubs compared to here, so try looking into some of those and see if any of them interest you. Note that you’ll have your last period free on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. This is partly to allow you to participate in Ward duties, partly to let you participate in any clubs that interest you. Many students have similar set-ups, so it won’t be unusual. I suggest you take advantage of it.
“You’ll also be assigned an upperclassman to show you the ropes for the next couple of days. He should be waiting for you out in the lobby once we’re done here. Now, do you have any questions?”
At the mention of an escort in the lobby, Taylor noticed that there was an additional person out there. She’d been actively ignoring most of the input she got from her power these days, so as not to be overwhelmed, and had missed him coming in. She made a mental note to be more careful about that. Didn’t want to get ambushed. Again.
“I don’t think so? Nothing I can think of immediately, anyway. Let me read that Wards document and get back to you?”
Ms. Garza nodded. “Of course. Now, if you have anything non-urgent you want to speak with me about about regular school stuff, you can either email me at the address on that sheet, make an appointment to see me, or walk in. I might not be able to see you immediately if I’m with another student, of course, but I try to make time for all my students. If you have something Wards-related or urgent that needs to be addressed, even outside of school hours, my PRT email address and phone number are listed in the encrypted document.
“A piece of advice, though. You will share classes with some of the other Wards, and I’m not telling you to not act friendly towards them, but try to avoid hanging out together too much . No all-Wards lunch tables or anything like that. It’s a hobby among many students to try to guess who the Wards are and you don’t need to make it any easier for them.”
Ms. Garza smiled for the first time since Taylor had seen her and it totally transformed her face. She’d seemed very no-nonsense before, bordering on stern. Professional. But when she smiled she looked… human. Approachable. Nice . Taylor relaxed just a little and absently instructed the insects to return to their normal activities.
“I am your PRT liaison, Taylor, but I’m also your guidance counselor. Anything you want to talk about that isn’t Wards-related will stay between you and me. As I said before, my door is always open. I hope we’ll work well together.
Standing up from her desk, she held her hand out to Taylor, who shook it.
“Welcome to Arcadia.”
Turned out that her school escort was a senior named Walt Fisher. He was a cheerful, personable guy and gradually set Taylor at ease.
“...and this wing is where a lot of the hands-on electives are. Ground floor for wood shop, metal shop, that kind of thing. Second floor for art, music, culinary arts, etc. I took culinary arts and wood shop last year and let me tell you, neither teacher was impressed when I tried to turn in the same spice rack for two different assignments.” He laughed warmly. “The main computer lab is directly above the main offices downstairs, by the way. Now, this way–”
Taylor interjected, having been building up to it the entire tour. “Uh, can I ask you a question? And you be honest about it?”
Walt turned to look at Taylor while raising an eyebrow. “Sure. Here, let’s stand out of the way,” he said as he drew her over to one of the rows of lockers lining the halls. “What’s up?”
Taylor fidgeted with her hands a few moments, then asked, “What’s the bullying like here? Is there a lot of it? Anyone I should try to avoid?”
Both of Walt’s eyebrows raised at that and he rubbed the back of his neck while formulating his answer. “Well, I won’t say there’s no bullying. I mean, let’s be honest, kids can be dicks to each other. But the teachers and staff are usually pretty good about putting a stop to anything they catch or gets reported to them. I know a couple years back they expelled a few kids for bullying, though I don’t know the details of what they did,” His eyes softened at he asked, “Are you worried about being bullied, Taylor?”
She paused for a few moments before responding. “I was pretty badly bullied at my last school and everyone pretended that it either wasn’t happening or it was my own fault. I just… don’t want that to happen again.”
Walt nodded seriously. “Okay, yeah, I get that. Again, I can’t say for certain that nobody is going to try to start something with you, but tell someone and that’ll get nipped in the bud real fast.”
It was hard to tell, but he felt like he was being sincere, so Taylor would have to trust. Difficult, but doable. “Thanks. So anyway, there’s only like 10 minutes left in first period, should we get going?”
Walt looked a little shocked, then glanced at his watch. “Shit, yeah, I didn’t realize it was this late. C’mon, we’ll get down to the library and get your books, then I can show you to your locker. This way!”
He started jogging down the hallway and Taylor rushed to keep up with him.
Taylor rushed into her World Lit II class right before the tardy bell rang and looked around quickly for a seat. All the ones in the back were taken, but there was one about halfway back beside the windows. Aaaand Gall– Dean. Dean was in the class with her. At least they weren’t right next to each other. She took the open seat as a couple stragglers ran in.
The teacher, a younger woman who nevertheless gave off the air of someone who’d been teaching since before Taylor’s grandparents were born, sniffed as she handed a stack of papers to each of the kids in the front row, who each took a couple of stapled-together pages and passed the rest back.
“I will forgive being tardy today only since it’s the first day and many of you are figuring out where your classes are. However, going forward, tardiness will be noted. The syllabus is being passed back now and you will study it. It has the semester schedule in it and I will not accept someone saying they didn’t know when an assignment is due or when a quiz was.”
Taylor got her syllabus from the dwindling stack and handed the rest on. Quickly flipping through it, she saw a surprisingly detailed semester schedule, down to day-by-day in a few instances, as well as a list of acceptable online sources they could use as references. Her attention flicked back up to the teacher as she continued.
“My name is Mrs. Dawson. Ignorance may be an excuse, but foolishness is not , and I fully expect you to come to me if you have difficulties with any of the material we’ll be reading. It’s my job to help you learn and everyone here will leave this class at the end of the day knowing more than when they came in.
“Now, I doubt that all of you brought your texts to class today, so we’ll be doing a broad overview of the goals of the class. I expect you to bring your copies of Journey to the West tomorrow. We could spend an entire semester on just one of the books we’ll be going over this semester, but unfortunately we only have about 2 weeks for each. We will not waste any of that time.”
Taylor listened, enraptured, for the rest of the period. Aside from her brusque manner, it was clear that Mrs. Dawson was a passionate teacher. Taylor felt a pang in her chest as she briefly compared Dawson to her own mother.
The following period was her physical education class. Turned out that Arcadia had several different classes that counted as P.E., ranging from individual sports, to a standard gym class, to archery or weightlifting, the class that Taylor had chosen. Her rationale was that there would probably be fewer opportunities for someone to trip her up or assault her like there would be in a team sport, and she could really stand some muscles anyway. She would be damned if she was going to stay the physical weakling that she’d been at Winslow.
The class went quickly, the teacher spending most of the time going over how to safely handle the free weights, what the purpose of each weight machine was, and the like. And while she was expected to have a “workout buddy” so they could spot each other and the like, it seemed like each pair would mainly be working on their own. Taylor could live with that.
Next was lunch and Taylor was instantly overwhelmed. Aside from the crush of students (so many more than at Winslow), the lunch offerings were not only edible, but somewhat appealing! The lunch line moved quickly, too, and before she knew it she had a full tray and was staring at the crowded room like a wounded gazelle facing a pride of lions. Where the hell was she going to sit? She spotted Dean at a table in the center of the room. There was a blonde sitting across from him, back to her, that she assumed was his girlfriend. Several other people sitting with them including, oh Jesus Christ those idiots, Dennis and Carlos. She definitely wouldn’t be sitting with them if they were that obvious about being associated with each other.
Looking around some more, she spotted a table in the corner of the room that was mostly empty. She moved in that direction and sat with her back against the wall, so she could see anyone approaching. Once settled, she looked up from her tray to scan the room one more time and spotted… her .
A dumpy, mousy-looking girl seated at Dean’s table was looking straight at her, eyes wide in shock. Snapping her open mouth shut, she suddenly stood up from her table and stormed over towards Taylor. The rest of the table looked startled and the blonde started to stand up as well.
Taylor recognized the approaching figure, of course. Not only was Nightingale the shiny new star of New Wave that had made a big splash when she debuted in February, but Taylor also had an indelible memory of her from… when it happened. She’d never forget that face screaming at her, hands covered in blood, and utterly useless to save someone when it really mattered.
Amy Dallon. The last person Taylor wanted to see. Much less deal with her slamming her hands down on the lunch table between them and hiss, “What the hell are you doing here?!”
Taylor’s eyes narrowed and her lips tightened. Walt had told her that bullying wasn’t tolerated and she was damned if she’d let Amy Fucking Dallon start. She was stronger than that. Stronger than her . She set a whole anthill to attacking each other to try to keep her temper while she gripped the table edge.
Her voice was tight, but Taylor calmly responded, “I go to school here, Amy , same as you. Or am I not allowed to eat my lunch in peace?”
Amy snorted and said, though quieter, “That’s not what I meant and you know it. What’s a killer like you doing here instead of in jail?! Or did you cut a deal with the Wards to stay out of lockup?”
Taylor’s eyes flicked back and forth to the people around them. Most had cleared out as soon as soon as Amy slammed her hands on the table and the remaining few were studiously ignoring them. Or scared out of their minds. Could be that, too, what with Amy’s sister coming over with a hard look on her face. Apparently she could make people love or fear her. Not that Taylor could tell.
Seeing that it was mostly clear of close-up witnesses, she spoke harshly, but softly. “Ignoring the rules, are we? Even if I was a Ward, which I’m not saying I am, even if I was a parahuman, which I’m not saying I am, isn’t accusing me of being one in the middle of a crowded fucking lunchroom painting a target on my back? Not everyone has Little Miss Indestructible guarding them. Oh wait, she’s not so indestructible, is she?”
Victoria arrived just in time to hear the last sentence and her face flushed red. Her hands tightened into fists as she loomed over the table. Oh, she was actually floating off the ground a bit. Cheater, cheater.
“What’s that supposed to mean? Who are you and why is Amy so pissed at you?”
Ignoring the question, Taylor spotted a tall black man walking towards them. Presumably a teacher or lunch monitor or something. His pace faltered a moment as he came within range of Victoria’s aura, but he kept moving forward until he was right behind the sisters. Keeping an eye on him, Taylor said, “I’m trying to mind my own business and your sister here decided to come over and accuse me of being a murderer.”
Amy’s face flushed red in anger. “What, you don’t think shooting your own fa–”
“MISS DALLON! Do not finish that sentence!”
Both of the Dallon sisters flinched at the sudden, sharp yell and turned to face the newcomer.
The man had a harshly disapproving look on his face and folded arms as he looked at the scene. “I don’t know what’s happening here, but it sounded like you were about to say something very mean and very stupid, Miss Dallon. I want all three of you to come with me.”
Taylor stood and grabbed her backpack. “What about my lunch, sir? I just sat down when she stormed over.”
“I’ll make sure you get something to eat. Now, follow.”
He turned and started walking towards the exit. Taylor hesitated a moment, then followed. She’d give them one chance to handle this appropriately.
The sisters, especially Amy, kept glaring at Taylor behind the man’s back, but all three followed him to a nearby empty classroom.
“Now, before we have to involve the principal, what just happened?”
The three were quiet at first, waiting for someone else to start, when Taylor spoke.
“I was minding my own business and just sat down to eat when she ,” Taylor sharply gestured at Amy, “spotted me and came over looking for a fight. Accused me of being a killer and that I should be locked up.”
Amy interrupted, “That’s not what happened! She was looking at me and she shouldn’t be here and I went over to–”
“To what, Amy ? Pick a fight? Get me to quit school? Bully me?”
Amy looked gobsmacked and Victoria jumped in. “Amy would never bully anyone! I don’t know what you did–”
“Miss Dallon! Miss… I’m sorry, who are you, miss?” He looked at Taylor, eyebrow raised.
“Hebert. Taylor Hebert. Today’s my first day at Arcadia, I was at a different school last year.”
He nodded. “Very well, Miss Hebert. I’m Mr. Smith, one of the math teachers. Now, it seems obvious that you two know each other outside school. What’s going on that you’re bringing into school.”
“ I didn’t bring in anything, Mr. Smith. I just want to be left alone and learn.”
He nodded again and looked at Amy. “And what about you, Miss Dallon? Why did you go over to Miss Hebert?”
“Because she shouldn’t be here! She should be” She snapped her mouth shut on the last of the sentence.
“No, go on, Miss Dallon. She should be what?”
Amy kept her mouth shut as she continued to glare at Taylor. Victoria looked between the two, confusion growing.
“Uh, Amy? What’s going on? You don’t act like this normally.”
Amy bit out, “If you remembered what she did, you wouldn’t want her here either. She might as well be a villain.”
Taylor squawked in outrage. “ Excuse me?! You’re calling me a fucking villain because of something I couldn’t control?!”
Mr. Smith lowered an arm between the two. “Alright, there are obviously some high feelings here. I don’t know what happened between you two before now, but you need to leave it outside school. Miss Dallon, it appears that you were the instigator here. Someone looking at you isn’t reason to go confront them. You’re not in trouble this time”
Taylor stifled a snort of indignation. Of course they weren’t going to do anything. The anthill was nearly depopulated, unfortunately, so she told some earthworms to start digging spirals as fast as they could.
“ But , I will ask your guidance counselor to put a note in your file. If this kind of behavior continues, there will be consequences. If you can’t get along, just leave each other alone. Is that understood?”
“Yes sir.”/”Yes sir.”
“As for you, Miss Dallon,” he said, turning to Victoria, “it’s commendable that you want to come to your sister’s defense, but make sure you know what’s going on first.”
Victoria flushed and nodded her head. “Yes, sir.” She glanced between Amy and Taylor and the stiff posture and shook her head slightly.
Mr. Smith watched the three for a few seconds, then said, “Ms. Hebert, please come back to the cafeteria with me. I’ll make sure you get another lunch without charge.”
Taylor tightly said, “Thank you, sir.” She’d only have about 20 minutes to eat, but it wasn’t like this was the first time she’d scarfed down a meal.
The rest of the school day passed in a much calmer manner. She decided to take her World Lit book home and try to read ahead some, but none of the rest of her classes had given any homework that required a textbook. She left them in her locker and went outside to wait for Aunt Zoe to pick her up. She was just in time to watch the Dallons fly off. Good riddance.
After about 20 minutes, Aunt Zoe pulled up to the curb in front of Arcadia and Taylor got into the back seat beside a couple of collapsed tripods and some camera bags. She must’ve come straight from a shoot. Emma was, of course, sitting in the front passenger seat, studiously ignoring Taylor. Made sense that she would’ve been picked up first; Winslow was a little closer to the Barnes’ house than Arcadia and she was Aunt Zoe’s actual daughter, after all.
“How was your first day at school?” Zoe asked as she pulled away from Arcadia.
“Fine,” responded Taylor.
“Anything fun happen?”
“No. Just got my books and schedule, then went to class.”
“That’s nice. Emma, did you want to tell Taylor about your day?” asked Zoe.
“No,” responded Emma, flatly.
An uncomfortable silence filled the car for about a minute before Zoe wordlessly turned on the radio and some pre-Scion music from the 80s started playing.