First Strike: Battle for Ehold

Chapters 1-4

For everyone who ever believed in me and those that made this book possible. Thank you.

CHAPTER ONE
Tyrus was never anything extraordinary. He was smart, but he had this in common with most of the students at Asheville Heights High School and thus it didn't carry much weight in the "things to make you stand out" category. When it came to school his only real saving grace was basketball. Over his first two years of high school, he brought the Asheville Heights Eagles back-to-back state championships as their starting point guard. Both times, as the confetti slowly drifted from the rafters of the arena, he would finally feel like he had done something worth remembering. Yet just as quickly, as the janitors came in to clean up after everyone left, he felt as though he were back to his old unnoticed self.
"I'm more than willing to arrange a way for you  to be homeschooled TyTy," Tyrus' mom said as she crookedly pulled into a parking spot at the front of Asheville Heights High's newly tarred parking lot.
"No mom, that'd only cause more drama. And you know I hate it when you call me TyTy."
"I'm sorry, sweetie, I'm just trying to help. I know how tough this must be for you right now, but trust me, it won't be as bad as you think," she replied considerately.
"Thanks mom. And yeah, maybe I'm just putting too much thought into this. I'm sure it'll be alright. Maybe people won't even notice," he proclaimed with a smirk.
Tyrus was never good with jokes like this. He knew they would notice. When the star basketball player goes from the top of the world to being stuck in a wheelchair, people notice.
It was the first day of his junior year, and Tyrus finally said goodbye to his mom, giving her a hopeless look as he was lowered out of the van and began to roll his chair away from the coolness of the vehicle and into California's late summer heat. He quickly caught sight of his best friend waiting for him alone by the school's front door and headed in that direction. Since his accident, Tyrus' relationship with his pal Brandon Decker was rather cold. In an attempt to get the night of the crash out of their minds, the two of them barely talked about it. This made it feel like they weren't able to talk about everything like normal best friends could, and it was the source of a newfound and unsettling distance between the pair. In all honesty there was some resentment that Tyrus felt towards his friend. In the five months since he was paralyzed, he spent many of his nights lying awake wondering why it was him who took the full force of that horrible event. How come he, who had so much potential, so much going for him, had his entire life ruined in one evening, while Brandon who was nothing more than an above average student, made a full recovery after two short months of physical therapy?
Whenever he began to think of his life this way, he always had to remember Dax. It was neither Tyrus' or Brandon's fault that their car was T-boned in the side by a Honda Civic, but Dax's when he decided to drive drunk and run a red light.
The former starting forward for the Eagles never intended to harm anyone that night. But when he drunkenly put the key into the ignition, his intentions meant nothing in comparison to the actions that followed. Tyrus could still hear his seventeen year old friend's words as vividly as the night they were spoken.
"I'm not that drunk, besides.... It's just on the other side of town. You coming or not?" Dax had slurred as he leaned out the window and coaxed Tyrus towards the car.
He knew it was stupid for him to get into his spoiled friend's Mustang, but he had to get home somehow. And calling his parents at three o'clock in the morning was far too rational of a thought for his mental state at the time. Not to mention all the trouble he knew he would be in for calling home after drinking at a basketball party. These efforts were all for naught when his parents received a call from the Asheville Heights Medical Center forty-two minutes later saying their son was in a car accident.
"Hello?" Mr. Baldwin said groggily after picking up the phone.
"Hello is this Mr. Baldwin?"
"Oh no," Tyrus' dad had said, his mind racing with thoughts of what the call could be about. "Yes, this is him."
"This is the Asheville Heights Medical center. There's been an accident. Your son Tyrus has this listed as his emergency contact in his phone. He was involved in a collision with another car earlier tonight and is currently unconscious-"
"Oh my gosh we will be there right away!" Mr. Baldwin cut off the woman before hanging up the phone and waking up his wife.
Fortunately, all three friends in the car were alive after the gruesome collision took place. The news for the man on the other end of their hood however was not so positive. Martin Hendrick, who was alone in the car driving home from his bartending shift, was pronounced dead on arrival at the hospital. Both Dax and Brandon had sustained minor injuries and were able to make full recoveries with the assistance of physical therapy. Since Tyrus was sitting in the front passenger seat, the Civic had hit him directly. He was severely injured and sustained head trauma. But this was of no consequence compared to his other wound. His leg bones were shattered, destroying the nerves and making it impossible for him to walk. After recovery, Dax was put on trial and convicted of DUI and manslaughter.
This all was in the past, and even though he hated Dax for it, Tyrus couldn't avoid all the blame. He was the one who chose to drink that night, after a little help from peer pressure and he was the one who chose to drag Brandon and himself into Dax's car when it was time to leave the party.
"You ready to do this, Baldwin? I remember how scared you were the first day of school last year." Brandon's words snapped him out of his trance.
"What? Me? No way, I'm not scared!" he quickly retorted. 
His words were true. Tyrus wasn't scared to roll through those doors and back into the harsh judgment of school. He was terrified.
Brandon opened up the door, and Tyrus went back into the halls of Asheville Heights High for the first time since his accident. To say all eyes were on him would be a gross understatement. As he rolled through the hallways, making a pilgrimage to his new locker, all he could hear were murmurs. He could not stand being in this type of atmosphere; he absolutely hated being the center of attention, positive or negative. Even on the basketball court he was never one to make it about himself, always looking to his teammates and setting them up even though he was the best player on the floor. He let out a huge sigh of relief as he had finally reached his locker and was able to turn his back to the rest of the school.
"Hey there, Urkel 2.0!" A mocking voice called out from the other side of the hallway. Tyrus didn't even turn around for he already knew who it was.
"Hey! Fresh Prince of Bel-chair I'm talking to you!"
"The sad thing is, you think these are clever. Probably even took you all summer to come up with them didn't you? What do you want, Colton?" Tyrus replied, finally giving in he turned his head to face him. It was Colton Toppler, the star lineman for the football team. 
He was wearing a Dodgers snapback, a cutoff showing far too much skin, and dark black skinny jeans. At 6'0" he was one of the few as tall as Tyrus who was 6'2''. He weighed in at 220 lbs., making himself anything but small in comparison. And he knew it.
"I was just wondering when basketball tryouts were this year. I was thinking about joining, you know, since I can still use my legs and all."
"Absolutely hilarious," he sarcastically said as he turned his chair away from Colton.
"No seriously, I think I could even beat you now, Wheels."
"Are you sure? I still have my arms, you know. I could use only one of them if you really wanted to have a chance. I'd even be willing to wear a blindfold for you. Or maybe you should just stick with football, seeing as we need all of the underperforming linebackers we can get."
Colton was now fuming and completely unable to form a response. He decided to cope with this anger the best way he knew; getting physical. He grabbed the handlebars of Tyrus' chair and forcefully slammed him into his own locker. Almost in sync with him hitting his head on the bar in his locker was the school bell.
"I'll see you later I-robot," Colton said, pushing Tyrus back into his locker.
"Yeah man, good talk. I'm real glad to have you back in my life. Easily in my list of top five people I've missed over the summer," Tyrus ended with his head still inside his locker. The acoustics of it gave his words a strange echo.
After the bully left, Tyrus began feeling his forehead and under his nose to check for blood. He felt nothing but his skin, so he shut his locker and rolled off to class.
Colton was always that way, especially with Tyrus. The accident just gave him a whole new belt of ammunition. When he was about six years old, Colton's parents got a divorce after a domestic violence case his mother was going to file against his dad but never did. Colton, not unlike other bullies, filled the emptiness of not having both parents by bringing pain to others. He had a whole cast of characters' lives that he decided to ruin, but Tyrus was the star of the show. Whether it was making fun of his glasses or lack of fashion sense, he always had something to say when he saw Tyrus. This star role wasn't placed upon him by random chance. Tyrus was a firm believer that if you had the ability to do good for others you had a moral obligation to do so. Whenever Colton was harassing a freshman, or trying to start a fight with a new transfer, he would intervene and break it up. This usually resulted in him taking a fair amount of physical abuse and verbal harassment as well. He didn't care much though. He was a tough kid and could handle either form of pain.
Even with his heroic antics and superstar level of play on the basketball court, Tyrus wasn't the most well received person at Asheville Heights. This was something that, though he would never admit, had always perplexed him. Sure people liked him and he had fans, but as far as friends, he only had a few people in his inner circle. The students at Asheville Heights were often times a horde of stuck up kids with wealthy parents and didn't care much for anyone who wasn't. They would call Tyrus a fool for standing up to Colton when he was being aggressive with someone because it was that victim's own fault for having those existing flaws. Besides his best friend Brandon Decker, Tyrus only had the other members of the basketball team and his two female friends Samanda and Julia. Tyrus liked it that way though, he always felt that quality was better than quantity and that was what he had with this group.
  








CHAPTER TWO
Samanda Dodd moved to Asheville Heights in eighth grade after her dad took a job out west, moving the family from Bayonne in New Jersey. The two of them met when partnered together in English class, and from there they became friends. She was a tomboy of sorts, always sporting her unkempt brown hair in a ponytail.  At 5'10" she dwarfed even most guys and could be mistaken for one sometimes due to her love of sweatpants and oversized t-shirts. 
These were the reasons she got along so well with him, though. The two hit it off talking about basketball, and Tyrus even convinced her to join the girls' team. From there, they became very close, having a brother-sister relationship, which time and again resulted in lots of arguments and even a bit of a rivalry between the two. The competition always elevated each other's game, as they didn't want to be the one to lose bragging rights.
Julia Moon was a completely different story. From the moment Tyrus first caught sight of her, he was undeniably smitten. The first thing he noticed about her was her soft brown eyes that flawlessly compliment her beautiful silky brunette hair.
They had gone to school together for all his life, but she never really paid attention to him until freshman year, when he was put on the varsity basketball team. It wasn't that Julia didn't think of him until 9th grade. They had encounters and even mutual friends.
The way things worked out was that until high school she didn't know he had any interest in her. Given plenty of chances to show how he felt about Julia over the years, he had not taken advantage of a single open door at his disposal. He always felt that she was too good for him no matter what he was capable of accomplishing. Julia Moon just seemed unattainable in his eyes. Nonetheless, her sudden realization of how he felt was brought to her one day through some friends and she decided to befriend Ty.
The fact that this happened almost overnight had upset Ty. He was beginning to believe she was shallow and not the embodiment of faultlessness he had always hoped for her to be. As he got to know her on a more individual level, his fear subsided, for she was just as wonderful as the image he created in his head over all those years. Later he realized just how weird what he did was, having such a longstanding fascination with someone he didn't really know. Even to the point of developing personalities and traits that the person may not even possess solely through the possible façade they could put on for seven hours during the school day. Now that he was close to Julia he looked back at just how catastrophically his passion could have ended but was grateful that it had not.
Often times, Julia would greet him the same way his mother did by calling him TyTy. He still wasn't a fan of it, even when she was the one who said it. But he eventually began to think of it more like a pet name and came to terms with it. Plus, it's not like he would say anything to her about it. In his eyes, she could do absolutely no wrong. He always wanted to take things further with Julia, but she was constantly surrounded by guys who felt the same way Tyrus did, falling at her perfectly manicured feet. It wouldn't matter though; Tyrus was caught in the friend zone and had been for a while. Not exactly the place he wanted to be, but he found it better than being in a relationship with her for a short period and not only losing her as a girlfriend and friend, but creating a rift in their group and throwing the whole dynamic off. All the same, he still wanted to try a relationship with Ms. Moon.
The first four periods of the day flew by as everyone sat in their chairs, catching up on how their summer vacation went and gossiping about anything and everything that changed in their lives since they had last seen each other. Eventually the teacher would get them under control and begin to hand out the syllabus. Tyrus was always the last one to regain focus. He would sit there staring blankly at the whiteboard in front of him as the noise of the classroom filled the air yet none of it registered with him. It just lingered in the background of his mind as he waited in horrid anticipation for the end of each period when he would have to awkwardly cruise through the halls of Asheville Heights High and serve as an unintentional barricade to the other students whenever he wanted to stop at his locker.
If the first half of the first day was any indication as to what was going to be a yearlong trend, then he wanted no part of it. He knew eventually he would get used to school and his life this way in general, but not before what he was going through got a whole lot worse, especially with lunch being next.
​A long monotonous beep blared from the school's intercom at the end of chemistry, and Tyrus put his book bag on his lap, backed himself away from the table, and rolled out into the hall. The same anxiety he felt just before entering the building at the start of the day once again built up inside him. He was so nervous for lunchtime, he even considered skipping out on the cafeteria all together. Maybe he would eat in the library or the guidance counselor's office today.
"No," he said to himself as he took a brown paper bag out of his locker and popped his backpack in its place.
He knew that not showing up to lunch now would just prolong the inevitable. This was a problem that wouldn't go away until he conquered it. And more so, it's not like he could just bail on his friends and Julia. So with a little hesitation, he rolled up the ramp and into the lunchroom. The cafeteria on the first day of school was about as close to a zoo one could get without purchasing a ticket. Tyrus rolled around the perimeter of the room, scanning each table and avoided running into students while looking for his gang of friends. His eyes widened as he had finally caught sight of the three of them on the other side of the room by a wall of windows.
"Hey guys!" He said, slightly embarrassed.
"Oh hey, TyTy!" Julia replied waving him to come over and sit by her. Blushing, he rolled his chair and stopped next to hers.
"So how has your first day been so far, everybody?" Brandon asked to open the lunch's talk. All of the kids said the standard response in a monotonous voice. Conversation took off from there but was constantly hitting roadblocks and awkward pauses. Clearly it was time for the elephant in the room to be addressed.
"How's it been getting around with the wheels?" Samanda asked, hoping to break up any tension about the subject.
"I don't know, Sam, why don't you try rolling around in it for a while!" Tyrus snapped back.
"She was just trying to help make this not so weird to talk about!" Julia interjected. That was another thing he adored about Julia. Much like him, she was always standing up for people, especially those attempting to make things easier.
"Sorry, yeah, I know. It's just been pretty hard for a first day."
"Don't worry, there's only going to be another one hundred and sixty-three of them!" Brandon stated in an overly cheery voice.
"Can always count on you to make jokes, huh, Brandon?" he countered.
"Well you guys darn sure don't keep me around because I'm pretty! I mean, my goodness, Sam plays basketball, Julia's a cheerleader, you're a basket-" He stopped in the middle of his sentence, realizing his mistake. "Tyrus I'm sorry."
Everyone was silent waiting to see how he would reply. He didn't know what to say. Coach already talked to him, saying when the season came around he could be a manager so that it still felt like he was part of the team. But why would he still want to feel like part of the team? In his mind, that was more embarrassing than just having nothing to do with basketball altogether. He still had yet to give Coach Lanagan an answer since he told him he'd consider it during the summer. He still had yet to give Brandon an answer as well. He just silently sat there with the rest of the group waiting for him to respond.
"It's fine," he lied to spare his best friend's feelings. "Coach already has something planned for me during the season if I want. Plus there's a wheelchair league at the YMCA I might join."
"Oh well yeah that sounds cool!" Brandon quickly replied as everyone let out a mental sigh of relief. There wasn't much more talk about his chair for the rest of lunch, but the stink of the conversation still lingered.
​The remainder of his day had gone just as poorly as the first half did until he reached the final class. It was U.S. History.
But not only was it U.S. History. It was U.S. History with Julia. He rolled in early and reserved a seat next to his, awaiting her entrance. A few minutes before the bell, Julia strolled into the classroom, saying goodbye to her friend Caroline as she passed through the doorway. She saw him and quickly headed to her new seat.
"Glad to see you still like to get to class early," she said in attempt to promote conversation.
"It's pretty easy to do when you get dismissed from class three minutes before everyone else. Good to see you also like to get here early, I was starting to worry you were dead in the hallway," he joked.
"Hey now! Anyway, how am I supposed to get the best seats in the house if I show up late?"
"Oh yeah, I would just hate to have a bad spot for history class! I mean, it's like trying to get front row tickets at a concert. Why I had to fight three guys just to keep that spot reserved," He said sarcastically with a chuckle.
"My hero!" She flirted back with just as much sarcasm.
"Hey robo-dork!" A voice called out. "Roll your wheels to the back of the class. You're blocking the aisle," It was Colton again, Tyrus already knew it.
"You know this is an AP class, right? You might as well drop it, save yourself the stress, and save your dad from wasting $90."
"Listen here Baldwin!" Colton said, stifling his anger. "I came here to learn, not to take guff from a little half robot like you."
​Now it was Tyrus who was getting angry. He would like to believe that he could take any insult that was dished at him. He played this role quite well, but when it came to being called a robot he just couldn't stand it. He couldn't stand the idea that he wasn't seen as a human anymore, that a part of him was less important than before. It was the only slur that really cut deep, and Colton was completely oblivious. Though offended, he couldn't let Colton's sharp words get to him. Luckily for the both the rivals' egos, Mr. Hallmark was ready to start class and settled down the group of teens.
"Alright class, unlike what I assume most of your other courses are doing, we will not cruise into the semester at a snail's pace, but rather jump in headfirst. And that is why we will have a group paper with a minimum of five pages due in a week and two days. That's next Friday, for those of you who are still in a summer state of mind."
The entire class groaned in unison. Tyrus turned to look at Julia as she was making a shooting motion towards her head with her fingers in the shape of a gun. Tyrus snickered.
"Now, now, before you all attempt to burn me at the stake, I do have good news.
"For starters, this will only be over the first two chapters, most of which is review material if you paid attention in any other history course that you were ever placed in. The other good news contains those magic words you all like to hear..." Hallmark paused to create unnecessary suspense. Everyone knew what he was going to say. ".. you get to choose your own partners."
Tyrus and Julia gave each other a look, and without anything else, the two claimed each other for the project. A simple nod cemented it and everyone else in the room seemed to be doing the same.
"Based on our numbers, we will have a group of three. Unless someone decides to work alone," The teacher said, doing battle with the students' rumbling conversations for airspace.
​Looking around the room in a panic, Tyrus kept searching until he saw that Colton was secured with his partner and there wasn't a possibility of him being drawn into their group. Once his tension eased, he turned back to Julia and the two started to discuss how they were going to go about a project to summarize the first few chapters of the textbook. Hallmark let the students talk amongst themselves for a while before cutting them off so that he could teach his lesson.
Forty five minutes after the bell had originally rung, it went off again and the kids all knew that meant their first day of the 2014-2015 school year was done.
The two partners exited the class together, still hashing out the rough details on how to go about complting their paper.
"So, I was thinking we could just knock it out this weekend. I figured that would be better than trying to find some time on a school night to meet up and work."
"That sounds good, TyTy. Want to meet at my house Friday night?"
Tyrus swallowed deep before he replied. He had been to Julia's house a billion and one times, but it was always a nerve-wracking experience. Between her parents bombarding him with awkward and tough questions in succession, he also had to deal with her little brothers asking if the two were dating yet. They would then run off leaving the two alone after creating a horribly embarrassing situation for the pair.
"Yeah that sounds fantastic! I don't think I have anything going on Friday!" he said with false enthusiasm.
"Great! Be there at seven. I'll tell my parents to set an extra plate at the table!" she concluded as the other two members of their friend group joined them.
"How'd history go for you two? A project assigned on the first day? Like what's this guy's problem?" Brandon said as he and Sam stopped walking.
"Yeah, it's pretty rough, but hey, at least me and Jules get to partner up."
"Better than whoever the heck I got. This kid was a total let down, not to mention the fact he gave me his email. I guess I forgot I was in the 90's. You want my Instant Messenger while you're at it?"
Samanda chuckled before replying in a sing-song tone. "That's what happens when you show up to class late."
"Quiet, Dodd," Brandon snapped back at her.
"You two fight like an old married couple," Julia said before framing their faces in a heart.
"You wanna keep those hands, Moon? Cause I'd put them down if you do," Samanda said, moving her neck in every which direction in an effort to not be in the same heart as Brandon.
Neither of them cared to remember, but there was a time when the two were quite fond of each other. Brandon and Sam even went to the winter formal together last year, though both of them claim it was only to avoid not having a partner for the immense number of slow songs. Still, those days were gone, and no one really knew what went on between them. It was made very clear later that whatever it was had long since ended though, and they had returned to just being friends who act as though they hate each other.
By this time, they realized Tyrus wasn't paying attention. Staring off at something in the distance, he began to roll his chair down the hall.
No one said anything as he was going away from the group. The remaining trio just looked down the length of the hall until they were clued in on what Tyrus was heading toward. It was Colton standing in front of his history partner, Tanner, both of his arms on the kid's shoulders, forcing him up against his locker.
"Listen here Tanner. I need to focus on football and my USC scholarship, so you're gonna do this whole project, and you're going to make it good."
"Really, Colton, you're honestly stupid enough to make threats to your partner while still at school? It's almost laughable," Tyrus said as he halted his chair a few feet away from the other two.
"Stay out of this, twenty-inch! You're not scheduled to get beat up until later."
"Don't worry about me, Ty," Tanner said trying to defend himself as he was excusing Tyrus. "I wasn't planning on just writing the paper for him. I can handle this."
​Colton's blood began to boil. He hated being contested by Tyrus, but having his influence rub off on others was even worse. He slowly started to lift Tanner up by his collar and reeled his fist back.
Right before he was to strike, he lowered it back down, realizing what would become of him and his football dreams if he was caught fighting on school grounds again.
If he was going to get in trouble for something, he felt it should be worth it. Tanner was not worth it. Throwing the boy to the side, Colton walked off, trying to scare Tyrus as they crossed paths. Tyrus didn't flinch. Rejoining the group Tyrus and company all headed out the front doors.
"One of these days, your bravery's gonna get you killed there, Superhero," Samanda joked, giving him a shove.
"Nah, if that happened what would come of you guys? There's no way this group would survive without its fearless leader," he kidded.
"We'd probably be as useless as a white crayon," she said back.
Tyrus knew that even that though it was meant to be a joke, the group wouldn't be the same without him. More so him than if any of the other members had left. He was the organizer, the planner, the nucleus of the atom known as their friendship. He was going to reflect on past glories of his leadership, even bring up an escapade or two, but the California sun got the best of them. They all trudged to their respective cars for the drive home. Tyrus rolled into his mother's van, where he could tell by the look on her face that she was just dying to know how his first day went.
"I know you're going to ask, so let me just give you the breakdown. It was fine, I love all my teachers and everyone was super nice," he said as fast as he could.
"Did you really think a vague fake answer like that was going to fly with me?" His mom said with no hesitation.
"Honestly? No. But in all seriousness, mom, I don't want to talk about it right now, I'd rather we just go home in silence."
Tyrus waited to be lowered out of the van and rolled up the ramp back into his home. As soon as he came through the door, he wheeled himself to the back of the house, which was the former office room. His original room was on the second floor of their Asheville Heights estate, but they had to convert the office into a bedroom following the accident. In his room, Tyrus plopped himself up onto his bed and lay there. He thought about how his first day of school went and then his thoughts crept to what he wished it would've been like. How it should have been, if his legs still worked.
These thoughts left him deflated, but he knew feeling sorry for himself was a one-way ticket to depression and never led to a real solution. He looked out the window and saw some neighborhood kids playing basketball. This only furthered his sadness. Rolling away from the window, Tyrus looked at his plasma TV.
Television brought Tyrus joy because it was one of the few things that weren't changed by his condition. One of the few things that didn't leave him feeling inferior or like he was an oddball.
The only things that made Tyrus happier than television nowadays were his video games. When playing online, not only did his new lifestyle not hinder his abilities in the game, but no one even had to know that he was handicapped. It was the only thing that bridged him back to his old life.
Tyrus was always a fan of video games, mainly playing sports ones but since the incident, he couldn't bear to play football or basketball games without being reminded of his inability to engage in these sports in real life. The never ending sadness that came along with this resulted in Tyrus selling all of his sports games to buy a new headset and expansion packs for First Strike. Brandon bought it for Tyrus on his sixteenth birthday two months back, and he absolutely adored the game. The first person shooter enticed the boy as soon as he got over the fact that it was "a game for nerds."
"Isn't this like those stupid games the dorks in P.E. always talked about last year?" He recalled himself saying in June as he ripped off the final piece of wrapping paper from the box.
"Shut up, dude!" Brandon said punching him. "Trust me. In like three days, you'll be hooked on it."
"Yeah okay. Next I'll start buying Magic cards and ten sided dice."
Brandon was right, though. Not about the cards and dice, but Tyrus had no shame in admitting he spent many nights this past summer sitting in his dark room with unhealthy snacks, killing avatars of people the world over. Eventually, he became unstoppable at the game, much to the dismay of his best friend. Anytime Tyrus got overjoyed with something he accomplished in the game, Brandon would be sure to remind him of his original response when he opened his present.
"Nerd game, huh?" Brandon said on more than one occasion. Tyrus quickly ascended to the highest rank possible in the game and even began entering local Free-For-All tournaments. 
"This is ridiculous! You didn't even like the game, and now not only are you better than me, but you're winning tournaments off of it!" Brandon once said in anger.
"Yeah dude, best birthday present ever! Thanks man!"
​The tournaments were a great thing for him. He lived for competition, and this allowed him to get his fill of beating others. At every single tournament so far, he had won with a fair amount of ease.
​Often times, it would come down to a matchup between him and some stereotypical geek who fit into the game's demographic like the last piece of a puzzle or even occasionally a man in his forties who had far too much time on his hands. 
In the end, Tyrus' raw talent would leave him the victor over his competitors. Upon winning, he would roll up to the front stage to accept his cash prize and trophy. After a while, sponsors began taking notice of Ty, offering him deals and free merchandise. Caught off guard by people actually caring that much about a video game competition, he would always be hesitant to discuss a contract with them. But it didn't matter. Tyrus would always turn them down in the end anyway..
"It's like any other sport to me," he would always say. "I didn't play basketball for the money. It was just something I was good at and loved to do. Same goes for First Strike."
​Tyrus and Brandon weren't alone in their love for the game. In its first month of sales, First Strike had sold more copies than any other game for the entire quarter. Flying off the shelves in growing numbers each passing day, the game became a huge phenomenon, often being called the new age of all shooter games. In the game, players controlled the series protagonist, Cavanur, who was a general in his alien army.
It was the year 2303, and he was sworn to protect the planet like the rest of the military. To do this, he had to fight off invaders from capturing his home planet of Ehold. In the beginning, the hero is separated from his squad and has to survive on his own as he travels solo throughout the vast woodland area in Ehold's northern hemisphere. Sporadically, you would encounter invaders from the attacking planet of Oncrete and had to decide whether it was best to fend them off or run for your life. As the story progressed, you received distress signals from members of the army in danger and would have to locate and rescue them. Cavanur would frequently get messages from other members of his team with information on their whereabouts and health. At the conclusion of the game, you regroup with the remaining members of your section and finish the mission, driving off the Oncretians and creating a period of peacetime.
Oddly, the goal of slaying the final boss is successful in this game, closing any type of sequel opportunities involving that planet. No one was sure if the company had something else planned. Or maybe the company just wasn't anticipating so much positive feedback on the game. It was a monster hit with gamers nonetheless, and only aiding in its favor was the cheap price. Tyrus recalled his friend saying the game only cost twenty dollars when he bought it.
"Whoever is making these games sure didn't wanna make a profit off of it."
Tyrus wasn't too big on the whole alien war storyline of the game. Anyone actually intrigued by the dispute between two fictional planets in the future was a bit too imaginative. But he did play through it a few times to get all of the challenges done.
"It was more of a beat and delete for me," he remembered telling Brandon the first time they saw each other after playing.
Brandon was on the complete opposite end of the spectrum.​
"What?! That had one of the most inspiring and well thought out stories of most games I've ever played. I mean, think about it. Here you are, just a regular alien, working your way up in the ranks of the army, when suddenly your peaceful home is under siege. I mean, loved ones are being captured and murdered, homes destroyed, entire cities getting leveled. The amount of emotion you would feel in that position is unmatched. And then, just when you think you finally have your head around this poor situation... BOOM! You're lost from your team and have to do the bulk of this mission alone. All the fear, all the pressure, all the weight falls solely on your two shoulders. It would be one of the most epic journeys anyone could ever take!" He finished, nearly foaming at the mouth from his excitement.
"Like I said, beat and delete."
​Tyrus finally stopped his trip down summer's memory lane and decided to play a few games of First Strike. He had another big tournament coming up on the seventeenth, giving him only about a month left to prepare and polish up a few melee combos and configure gun load outs that would work best with his style of play. This was easily going to be the biggest tournament he had ever entered.
The best First Strike players in the state were going to be there, and with a state as big as California, it would include a lot of talent. The top three finishers from the area would earn themselves a trip to the "EnE Best of the Best" national tournament in New York City. He dreamed of going to Nationals, knowing it could change everything. Though proud of all the tourneys he had won over the past months, he never really felt like they meant anything to his family. They overlooked it, thinking it was just some type of stupid thing he and his friends did to pass the time. His mother even called up each of his friends' parents when he had won his first championship, thinking that he had been gambling with his buddies to acquire the cash.
"No, I promise you Mrs. Baldwin, my son doesn't even play that game... Uh huh... Yes... Well I assure you, however Tyrus got the money, it was in an honest manner... Ok... Alright you have a good night Erica... Bye now," The mothers would all say when confronted about the situation.
Still, his mother always hated the game. She wondered why he would waste such time on earning useless achievements and virtual money to buy new weapons. Even when he told her it was a fun way to connect with some of his friends who had moved away, she was still sour towards the game. The only time she would ease up on criticizing him for his amount of play was when he brought up his chair. The touchy subject always made her hesitant to scold. This bought Tyrus a guilt free period until she was eventually annoyed with him again.
No one else in his family despised the fact that he played, but they didn't praise him or his abilities either. His twin sisters, Erica and Mary-Lynn, both just thought he was wasting his life. They didn't care too much for video games to begin with, and that was fine by him. All he wanted was for them to eventually recognize his work amounted to something respectable and lasting.
After a short few matches, he heard his mother's voice calling from the other room, signifying it was time for dinner. He regretted the thought of being bombarded once again with questions on how his first day of school went, but knew he had to face it. Reluctantly, he turned off the console and headed towards the kitchen. A smile crept up on Ty's face when he entered the living room and saw that his mom made lamb chops and mashed potatoes, his unchallenged favorite meal. The smell filled his nose and he could swear it was euphoric. Conversation was first directed at the twins and how their first day of ninth grade went. They gave the standard answer. It was okay except for the fact that for the first time ever they didn't have any classes together. Tyrus, on the other hand, did not get off so easy. After ten straight minutes of questions, Tyrus felt like he had relived the whole day. Frustrated, he cleaned his plate and left feeling drained from explaining so many details.
"I'm going to go do some homework and then go to bed! Goodnight!" He shouted as he closed his door.
The next day was less eventful than the first, which was alright with Tyrus. Any day where the most interesting thing that happens is a fire drill after 6th period was a good day in his book. He went home at the end of the day, ready to get his homework done early so he could have more time to play First Strike.
"Really? Video games, again?" His mom said as she peeked her head through his doorway.
"Yeah, mom, I already did all my homework," he replied, talking over the sound of gunfire.
"Why don't you go and play with Brandon or some of the neighborhood kids?"
"I am playing with Brandon, mom," he said as he switched the voice setup to TV.
"Hi, Mrs. B!" Brandon's voice chimed from the screen.
"Hi, Brandon," she said in defeat.
"So, you think you'll be ready for the big tournament next month?" Brandon asked him as his mother was exiting the room.
"Yeah, dude, I'm gonna work on my game every day to make sure I get into Nationals. What about you? Are you going to be ready for the tournament when it comes around?"
"I don't know if I'm going to enter. I mean, everyone there is going to be really good. I'll probably just lose in the first round. What a waste of the entry fee."
"Dude, come on! We've always done these competitions together. It's more fun when I go with you. Just keep practicing your Free-For-All strategy, and by the seventeenth, you'll be ready to go."
"Tyrus, I'm serious. I don't think I want to go. Honestly, these things always end the same way for me."
"What's that supposed to mean? Like, if it's about the money, I'll pay your entry fee it's no big deal. I still have a few hundred saved up from the last tournament's winnings."
"That's just it Ty! It's your winnings! That's what I'm talking about. It always, always ends up with you winning and me on the sideline watching you bask in the glory. I swear, it's just like basketball season was," Brandon was getting angrier with every word.
"Brandon, you know I can't control that. I don't invite you so that you can watch me succeed. I just know that you have potential, and the only way you can unlock it is by being pushed," he quietly said, in hopes of doing some damage control on his pal's mental state.
"Yeah, whatever." Brandon wasn't buying it. He had logged out.
​After a few texts and phone calls, Tyrus was able to calm him down and show that he only had the best of intentions, but he couldn't help the change he felt. That very same feeling he felt the other day just before they went into school, distance. For the rest of the night, he sat thinking about what Decker told him. Could he have subconsciously been dragging Brandon along to all of his shining moments just so someone would be there to document his glory? No, that wasn't even in his mind. He truly did believe Brandon was every bit as good as he was. None of that really mattered, though, if Brandon didn't want it for himself. Wracking his brain was doing Tyrus no favors, and he had more important things to worry about than Brandon not wanting to play a video game. Tomorrow was Friday, and he was having dinner with the Moon family.






CHAPTER THREE
Tyrus awoke early Friday morning with a sharp pain in his chest. He coughed and hacked, attempting to shake his ache but it only increased. His coughs became involuntary, and he could taste blood in his mouth. He began to spit it out onto his mattress. Panic set in. He had no idea what was happening and tried to make way over to his wheelchair. Reaching hopelessly in the dark, he thought he had found a handlebar but instead it was the side of his desk. In attempt to get in his chair, his hand slipped off the desk and he fell to the floor. Landing hard on his stomach only worsened the pain, and he cried out in horrible agony.
"What is happening to me?" He said, lifting himself up into a seal's position. "I have got to find the chair," He continued, aimlessly moving his arms back and forth until he hit metal. This time it was the chair and he got on. Making his way down the hall and into the bathroom, he turned on the light and ran some water on his face. Slowly, he raised his head up and looked in the mirror. The chest pain was becoming normal for Tyrus but that wasn't what upset him this time around. While staring back at his sweaty face covered in water he saw defeat in his eyes. The fact that he couldn't get into his chair on the first try and fell to the ground was a cold hard reminder that he wasn't able to do things on his own. It was hard to distinguish the difference between faucet water and Tyrus' tears at this point. The pain was subsiding, but his thoughts were still on his dependency to that cursed machine.
"I really thought this was supposed to get easier as time passed," he said to himself watching water fly off of his lips at the end of each word.
"Ty?" A voiced called out in concern. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, dad, I'm fine. Just had to get a drink of water," He called from the bathroom. His dad left for work at approximately five-thirty in the morning, so to see him up meant it was probably around five o'clock.
"Well, alright then, but get back to sleep. You're lucky enough to still have a few more hours," he responded from up the stairs.
"Will do, dad, have a good day!"
He rolled back to bed but knew there was no way he would be falling asleep again anytime soon. He lay there until his alarm went off and got ready for school.
At seven-thirty that morning, Brandon showed up in front of Tyrus' house ready to go to school. They exchanged greetings as Brandon stowed Tyrus' wheelchair in the back before backing the van out of the driveway.
"Wanna go to the cinema tonight? We can see that new comedy," Brandon said as they halted at a red light.
"Nah, I have to work on that history project with Julia tonight," Tyrus said, turning down the car's radio to be heard.
"Oh yeah. I forgot about your little meet-the-parents date tonight," Brandon said with a smirk as cars drove by in front of them.
"Shut up, dude! You know that's not what it's like. Besides, I've met her parents dozens of times."
"But that is how you wish it was going down," The light had finally turned green and Brandon floored it, sending the two backward in a jerking motion.
"Are you kidding? I'm already nervous enough for tonight. Imagine how much of a wreck I would be if I were her boyfriend," Tyrus had no idea why he experienced so much anxiety surrounding tonight but he couldn't control it. "Besides, I'll never make a move on her. She wouldn't go for a guy like me, especially not when I'm like this."
Brandon stopped the car on a dime. "Is the great and powerful Tyrus Baldwin really having doubts about his chances with the ladies?" He said.
"Yeah yeah, tough guy, just don't make us late to school. Some of us actually care about our education."
The words were true, but if anyone didn't have to care about their schoolwork it was Decker. Naturally, he was one of the smartest students in the school and put forth virtually no effort. Teachers and students alike were constantly joking about the types of things he could accomplish if he actually cared about the projects and papers he submitted. Brandon paid them no mind, though. If he could get good grades without compromising too much of his free time, he surely wasn't going to start.
The two came rolling into the parking lot at top speed, looking up and down each aisle in search of a parking spot. The entire close side and half of the far spots were already occupied and the pair had to take a vacant opening towards the back of the lot.
"Sure you don't want to just park at the bank across the street there, bud?" Tyrus joked about their far distance as he got into his wheelchair.
"Anytime you wanna be the one to drive just let me know!"
"If you didn't have the responsibility of picking me up you probably wouldn't even make it to school at all." Both of the boys knew this to be true.
​The first half of the day was remarkably boring except the occasional miniature heart attack Tyrus suffered when thinking about dinner that night. Why was this such a big deal to him? He had been to Jules' house a thousand times, this would be no different. Show up, eat, write the paper, and leave. Not that hard. Still, this time it felt different. Was it the chair? Surely he had been over to the Moon residence since April. But when he thought about it, he had not. He couldn't really see them talking too much about his handicap, but at the same time he felt like it could be a hot button issue. Tyrus recalled that Mr. Moon wasn't one to hold his tongue about these types of topics. This made him gulp hard as his chest pounded heavily again. He just couldn't stand to be embarrassed in front of Julia. He could already feel his cheeks heat up as he blushed, and even though it was never visible she was always able to tell.
         Lunchtime was a great relief as the gang talked about meeting up Saturday and going bowling. It was shaping up to be a good weekend, until Colton decided it was time to cause more trouble. Tyrus was sitting with the rest of his friends when once again he saw Colton and his history partner by some lockers just outside the lunch room. Rolling his wheelchair to the edge of the cafeteria's doorframe, he was able to eavesdrop on their conversation.
"Listen here, you little fairy boy!" Colton said, once again raising his fist. "If you don't write us an A+ paper not only am I going to mess your face up, but I'll tell everyone about your little secret."
​Tanner was a senior and closet gay that had only came out to Colton and a couple others back when Colton was in their friend circle. He was hoping that he could get through high school without too many people finding out. Even though this was California, Asheville Heights was caught in the past when it came to topics like sexual orientation. Not in the sense that you would get harassed or attacked for being homosexual, but in the sense that you would be looked at differently. Tanner worked hard to keep his secret a secret for all these years, especially from his father, and he would do almost anything to make it last for one more. Tyrus had seen enough.
"Hey!" he shouted out, rolling towards them.
"You just can't stay away, can you, Wheels? You almost find me as irresistible as Tanner here probably does," Colton said, still forcing Tanner up against the locker as he kicked and squirmed.
"Let him go, Colt. I'm sick of you tormenting people and thinking nothing of it. You're making them miserable."
"What are you gonna do about it, Baldwin?" He said while lowering Tanner and making his way to Ty. Without even giving him time to form a response Colton pushed him and watched him roll backwards.
Wheeling back up to him, Tyrus stared his bully down and waited. Tanner was glad he escaped all physical danger but was left frozen at the scene, knowing Colton still could cash in on his blackmail. Colton was not in the mood today, and he once again pushed him backwards. Only now, instead of releasing him, he reeled him back in and punched him in the face. It went at rapid pace from there as Tyrus hit him square in the chest repeatedly while Colton was thrashing from all different angles. Finally, having enough, Colton nailed him square in the middle of the chest.
The pain from that morning was back, and Tyrus collapsed forward onto the floor. Colton was nowhere near done, though, as he began kicking him in the ribcage. Tyrus started coughing up blood everywhere and his glasses fell off his sweaty face and into the sticky pool of blood and sweat below him. Tanner had seen enough, he didn't care if the whole universe knew he was gay, he had to go and get help. Minutes passed.
When Tanner returned with a teacher, Colton had long since left. Tyrus was lying there with his palms pressed to the ground, bending over his pond of blood and still hacking. The teacher helped him back into his chair and he was sent to the nurse's office. After he was taken care of, Tyrus was led to the principal's office where Colton was already seated.
"Mr. Baldwin, Mr. Toppler. I am very disappointed in the both of you," The principal said, staring at the two of them across his wooden desk. "You both well know that fighting is against the school's code of conduct."
"But Mr. Pullini you don't understand!" Tyrus said.
"And I don't care to!" Mr. Pullini said while eyeing over some paperwork. "Now, given that this is only the first offense of the year, albeit early on, I will give the two of you a pass. You will only have to serve one day of detention. That will take place this upcoming Monday immediately after school."
Both the boys nodded in agreement of the punishment. It was more than fair, considering how the common practice for such an offense was suspension. Especially happy about the way things turned out was Colton. An out of school suspension would have knocked his chances of obtaining a scholarship from Southern California clean out of the window. There wasn't much of a market for hotheads who solved their problems by getting physical, even though he did want to go for football. Coaches were always mindful about these traits in their recruits. Last thing they want is for some player to get a rise out of Colton who loses his cool and commits an after the play penalty. Also Colton didn't even want to bring up the rage from his father had he been kicked out for another week's period. Mr. Toppler was a respected man in the city of Asheville Heights. He didn't earn this status from being a wealthy and powerful businessman or having a seat on the city's council.
No, Brett Toppler got this type of perception by working two jobs, both as a car salesman and an assistant manager at the local grocery store. After the divorce, Brett gained custody of the kids and decided that the best thing for them to do as a family was stay right where they were in Asheville Heights. Brett's assistant manager position would never be enough for them to maintain their living conditions, so he applied to the car dealership just on the north side of his other job. Upon being hired, he made it his vow to keep both of his jobs until he only would need one to suffice all of his two kids' needs. Constantly working and being perpetually tired, Brett was always neglecting Colton and his little sister Abby. A hero in the eyes of his neighbors, Mr. Toppler was actually a pretty poor parent. He was just simply not able to do everything on his own. Becoming easily frustrated with all his responsibilities and expectations, he would shut down. Colton was most affected by this and even ended up having to become a father figure to Abby, who was four years his junior. His father would most likely snap if Colton was suspended again, saying something about how he was a screw-up and that he never took anything in life seriously. Colton could never really sit back and say his dad was proud of him.
"Thanks for going easy on us," Tyrus said as he rolled out into the hallway. Colton had already taken his leave.
"Just see to it that this type of misbehavior doesn't happen again. And next time, son, be reasonable when you choose your battles. You don't always have to fight when you witness injustice. Sometimes your voice and presence is enough," the principal said, revealing that he knew Tyrus was only trying to help out someone else. Things could have gone worse for Tyrus, but he knew his parents would find out about the fight and eventually his detention. This would mean that he would lose any and all privileges for a few weeks.
"Well, there goes Friday night," he said, forgetting the exact details as to what his evening entailed. He overlooked that his parents wouldn't stop him from going to Julia's because it was school related. But this brought to mind his original problem of the day. Going to Julia's. Julia sent a text to him at 6:30 saying that she was on her way, meaning Tyrus had roughly fifteen minutes to get ready for her to arrive. His mother was making a big fuss about the whole event, as per usual. Anytime Tyrus even so much as talked to a girl, his mother was jumping to conclusions and bringing up hope of one day having her as a member of the family. This was elevated to an even higher level when it came to Julia.
"My handsome little man! Oh, you look so cute," she said as she walked into his room.
"Mom, I'm wearing blue jeans and a shirt. Literally the exact same clothes I wore to school today," he said.
"I know it's just that I want this to go well for you tonight, and I figured you'd need a confidence booster,"
"Is it that, or is this just some more of your instigating in hopes that me and Jules will go out?"
"Little of both. Son, you need to realize that this is going to happen sooner or later. The two of you will one day decide to give being more than friends a try. You'll date throughout college, get married, and have a son named Julius," his mother told him as she was painting an image in both of their minds.
"Wait a second. First off, you are thinking way too much into a school project, and secondly, why 'Julius'?" He was confused.
"It's a combination of both your names sweetie. You know, Tyrus and Julia. It practically came up with itself,"
"Well as crazy as that sounds, Jules is here so I'm going to leave you to your delusional fantasies. See you later, mom," But it didn't sound crazy. In his mind Tyrus thought that would be a pretty good life.
"Don't forget. You're still grounded for a week after tonight, Bruce Lee," She said, kissing him on the forehead.
​Tyrus rolled down the ramp by his front door and got himself up into Julia's minivan. They exchanged greetings as Tyrus awkwardly fastened his seatbelt and Julia began to drive.
"We should be able to knock this entire paper out tonight over the course of a few hours," She said after realizing how long they were in silence.
"Yeah," he said, ending his speech much shorter than Julia expected.
"Well don't talk my ear off there Tyrus. What's up with you? Usually the problem was getting Tyrus to stop talking."
"Nothing, I'm fine. It's just there's not much to say, you know? It's a history paper. You write a few pages about some dead people and turn it in."
"Good thing I chose a partner who cared about the grade he gets on the first assignment of the semester! Besides, you're completely downplaying the importance of their actions. Some of these people sacrificed a lot for what they believed in. Even their lives. It's not just a paper, Ty. We learn about these things in history so we can appreciate it and hopefully not make the same mistakes."
Tyrus had realized she was right. He had always known, but he would rather argue about a paper than reveal the real reason for his distress. So he held his tongue and apologized for being inconsiderate.
They finally arrived at Julia's house. It was time. Tyrus once again swallowed hard and rolled up to the front door as Julia held it open for him. Tyrus saw Julia's two brothers out of the corner of his eye as he entered. They were shooting dart guns at each other, unaware that he had come over. When they noticed he had arrived, they began pelting him with darts as they ran over screaming in joy.
"Ty!" they said, running to him.
"Hey, guys! What's up?" He replied with a smile.
"Why are you in that chair? Why are you sitting down? You should stand up and play with us," the younger child said.
"Shut up!" his older brother said, hitting his sibling. "Julia said we aren't supposed to talk about it."
"Oh, no, guys it's fine!" Tyrus replied, again with a smile. But it was too late. Julia's younger brother had already fled to the kitchen's dinner table in embarrassment and fear of offending his guest. He felt bad because he knew the boy was upset, but he did take comfort in the fact that Julia had talked to her family about it. She probably told the whole family to refrain from bringing it up at dinner. This eased Ty's anxiety as he and Julia joined the rest of the family in the kitchen.
"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Moon!" Tyrus said while positioning himself at the table.
"Oh, hi, Tyrus, how are you," Julia's mother said back, as she sat a bowl of salad in the middle of their long dinner table.
She was almost as beautiful as Julia was with the same facial structure and brown hair. Tyrus was feeling better about this gathering with each passing second.
"Tyrus, why don't you bless the meal before we eat," Mr. Moon said robustly from his spot at the head of the table.
Tyrus responded positively but had a quiver in his voice as he spoke. He was used to blessing meals, just not really in front of an audience, let alone one as critical as this could be. Though nervous he pulled the grace off without any noticeable errors.
"Amen!" he concluded, feeling proud of his success. They all began to eat.
Conversation started normally with Julia's parents' curiosity about the details of the project and how they felt being juniors and only having two years left before college. Tyrus had known Julia warned them not to speak about it but to stick with the easy questions. He didn't care. The dinner was going great, and better yet, it was almost over. Just as he was getting ready to start on his last piece of steak, Mr. Moon spoke again in a different tone of voice.
"Listen here, son I need to address something. Now, I've been told to hold my tongue, so pardon me if this is rude, but I've just been itching to find out. Are you ever going to be able to walk again?"
"Daddy!" Julia shouted out.
"No, it's fine, Julia. I figured some questions like this would be on your minds," Tyrus stated nonchalantly. "To be honest with you, Mr. Moon, I don't really know. No one knows. At the time of the accident, it didn't seem likely, and it still looks pretty bleak. But I mean, with technology advancing every day anything is possible."
"And if not, you can still be a cool robot!" Julia's youngest brother said, once more not intending to offend.
"Shush!" their mother scolded. "Why he is no different than you or I!"
There goes that word again. Robot. It stung him even when said by someone who wasn't even aware he was being rude. Even Julia's mother, who was trying to reconcile the situation, had brought up a word he'd rather not have heard. Something about being called "different" reminded Tyrus that it was true. It was bad enough he was given a daily reminder from life that he was far from his old self, but realizing he wasn't like other people, real people, made him frustrated. By this time, he had noticed that Julia was silent and upset.
"We would like to be excused so we can work on our project now," She said coldly, getting up and walking away even before getting a response. Tyrus followed behind her, but not before he extended his gratitude for the family's hospitality.
When in the study room, Tyrus and Julia both took out their laptops and opened blank documents in silence. Tyrus wanted to just move on and talk about the project, but he could tell by Julia's quietness that she wanted to get something off of her chest.
"I'm sorry for that. That wasn't the way things were supposed to go. If I had known that they were going to ask questions and make comments like that, we would have just skipped out on dinner."
"It's fine, honestly it's kind of hard to have me around and not notice. I mean, your brothers are just kids, and I'm sure they haven't had much experience with disabled people yet. And your dad, his question? I mean, that wasn't even the worst I was expecting. Not to mention the fact that it was a pretty good question. I mean, even I don't know how it will play out." He wasn't upset with anyone, especially not Julia, and he didn't want her to feel like this was somehow her doing. Julia was grateful that he wasn't mad but could tell that deep down he was less than satisfied with the way thing went.
"Honestly, I just wanted to give my parents another chance to get to know you better. Most of the time when we're over here, it's all four of us. You know, you, me, Sam, and Brandon. So we just would go up to my room or do something outside. This was going to be an opportunity for it to just be the family," she paused for a second. "My parents really like you Ty, They say I need to have someone like you around. That you're good for me. I mean even after they found out about the drunk driving accident, they still took your side. My dad said he had a situation like that back in high school where he did the same thing as you. By being in the car, he was able to keep his friend under control, and they were both alright. He still knew it was stupid to do, just like you did, but he was only trying to help. Sometimes just being there can make these things work out better. I'm sure if you could go back in time, you would just not get in the car, but you don't know. Maybe you saved Brandon and Dax's lives that night."
She fell silent. Tyrus was in absolute shock about what he had heard. He had thought about what could've happened had he not been in the car, but the only time anyone else had spoken of the event, they focused on the bad. His mood had completely turned around about the entire evening. Still, he was perplexed. What did she mean by "he was good for her"? Maybe her parents were just like his mom, hoping the two would someday end up together as a couple. Either way, he had homework to do and was afraid the answer to his question was one that he didn't want to hear. So Tyrus and Julia worked on their project with no more talk of anything besides history.





CHAPTER FOUR
Tyrus awoke late the next morning, knowing that there was not much to do that day but convince his parents to allow him to see Dax at the penitentiary. Tyrus and Brandon had only visited Dax once since he was convicted. It wasn't a very cheery experience, visiting a friend in jail. Brandon talked with Dax for only a few minutes before realizing their former friend had no real concern to change his standpoint on the actions he performed and the consequences that followed.
"How can you just sit there and not feel bad about the stuff that went down, Dax? A man is dead because you drove. For God's sake, Tyrus is paralyzed! Don't you have any remorse?" Tyrus recalled Brandon saying to the prisoner in a fit of rage.
​Yet Dax just sat there, unchanged by anything that happened. Instead, he was self-centered on his situation, too focused on what his life had become to realize what he had done on a bigger scale. Not only had Dax ruined his own life but two others. And he scarred even more at the same time. Tyrus had gone again to see Dax one other time with his parents. Brandon had declined the invite to join them. The second time around Dax seemed more solemn, taking things more seriously and speaking in a tone that showed reluctance when talking to Ty. Perhaps the longer Dax spent from the real world, the more he realized just how bad his blunder was. Even so, Brandon still refused to go back, claiming that Dax was as dead to him as the man he murdered that night. But Tyrus still thought that Dax needed a friend, now so more than ever. And even though Dax was the reason for everything bad in his life, he couldn't let him struggle alone in this time, even if it only was a few visits over the course of a couple months. So with some skillful wordplay and convincing on Tyrus' part, he and his mother were off to the Asheville Heights Juvenile Detention Center.
Unlike the rest of the city of Asheville Heights, the jailhouse looked neglected. The bleakness of the place was made even more significant than ever to him on this specific trip. Tyrus even commented to his mother that it looked worse than the last time he had been there. The inside of the building reinforced his point. The upkeep of the place was nowhere near where it should have been. After getting over the initial disgust of the room, Tyrus rolled over to the front desk and told the woman behind it that he should be scheduled on the visitors list for today. She eyed over the list for a few seconds under appointments for Daxter and saw his name.
"Okay, Mr. Baldwin, I'll just need you to provide two forms of I.D. and then we'll pat you down," She said to him without looking up.
He handed her his state I.D. and birth certificate and emptied his pockets before getting patted down to make sure he wasn't attempting to bring anything to the visiting area. On the other side of the gate he was given his possessions back and waved down with a wand. Finally, he was able to enter a meeting room where he could converse with Dax through glass. Seeing as it was a juvenile facility on a Saturday, the room was full of parents and families visiting their children and relatives. Tyrus rolled up to his window, pushing aside the chair already placed there. He waited for his friend to show up. A few seconds later, Dax sat down and picked up the phone.
Tyrus still wasn't used to the way that Dax looked after being sentenced to his time in the juvenile detention center. His hair usually long and dark was now neatly cut and short. His skin now pale compared to his once incredibly tan self. Along with the color of his skin was how scrawny he looked altogether. Daxter looked malnourished, especially when compared to the fit image of his buddy Tyrus still had in his mind. But the most defining changes Tyrus was able to see in Dax was how depressed the boy looked. He now possessed tired, sunken eyes with deep dark circles to show that he must not have had a good night of rest in weeks. Tyrus made his best effort not to stare at one particular feature but couldn't help himself so eventually he decided to settle on the acne that no doubt arose from a combination of stress and a typical teenager breaking out.
"Hey. I'm surprised you still wanted to come visit me," he opened, genuinely shocked.
"As long as you keep me on the list, I'll be back, Dax. The first time we were all a little on edge, but I mean, last time I came to visit things were good. How have you been?"
"How do you want me to answer that? Because if you want an honest answer, you might wanna get comfortable."
"I'm willing to hear whatever you have to say," he said into the phone.
"Every day, I feel less and less like myself, Ty. Like I'm not the person I was before."
"Tell me about it," Tyrus interrupted.
"You don't get it, Ty. This isn't like what happened to you. Sure, physically, you're different, but mentally you're still the same old guy. Mine's mental. Mine's emotional," Dax replied, beginning to get upset.
"How can you say that to me, Dax? You don't know what's going on with me. Things changed for me, too. That's just the way life works."
"So you're a cripple, Ty. At least you're free to do what you want," Dax pointed out coldly.
"You really don't get it, do you?" Now it was Ty's turn to get upset. "You don't even know what I've gone through since then, and this is a consequence of your actions, Dax. How can you still be so uncaring about this? You talk about how bad things are for you, but at least you get to wake up in the morning and stand on your own two legs! At least you get to walk around, or run, or play some prison league basketball or whatever!"
"Yes, Tyrus, but I'm stuck behind these bars. This is where I have to stay! This is where I wake up every morning and this is where I rest my head every night. I'm kept inside this horrible place while you are free to roll around wherever you please! I absolutely hate it here, Tyrus!"
"That's the point Dax!" Tyrus once again cut him off. "It's a jail! It's a freaking jail, where bad people like you are kept to protect the rest of the world." By the end of his sentence, Tyrus was about ready to leave. He felt bad using a phrase like "bad people" because Dax was a pal and someone who needed a friend but it seemed like the boy still didn't even grasp the severity of what he did.
"You don't know what happens in this prison! What they do to people like me, the physical abuse, the mental anguish I have to experience every day. The constant jabs and insults."
"You want to talk about anguish? How about when I have to sit away from everyone else at football games because my chair can't get up to that part the bleachers? Or what about being an outcast at social events and dances because I have to lug a big chair around with me everywhere? Or what about when I have to look for my chair in the dark at night because I can't stand up and simply walk to the bathroom. You talk about how bad it is here for you, Dax, but I'm more of a prisoner than you ever will be."
"Well, it's a good thing misery loves company, then," Dax said before hanging up.
Tyrus was done trying to make Dax feel better. The hurtful things Dax had just said cemented the fact that he would never change his ways no matter what happened. Tyrus knew that sometimes you could want someone to change so badly, but you just have to realize that it won't mean a thing until they want it for themselves. He gave one final look at Dax walking away before rolling back out of the door he came in through.
"Short visit?" The front desk lady asked as he passed her.
"I said what I needed to say," Tyrus said back without slowing down.
The whole ride home, Tyrus was silently processing what happened between him and Dax. His mom could tell what type of visit it had been by her son's nonverbal communication. She figured it would've only been a matter of time until that happened. It was for the best. Dax was a criminal. Making bad decisions under the influence was one thing, but being unapologetic about it is a completely different story. The actions were a mistake, but the unwillingness to change showed the boy's true heart.
"Did you and Julia finish the project last night?" Ty's mother said to break the silence.
"Yeah, we were able to get it all done," he replied, not entirely focused on what she was saying.
Mrs. Baldwin could tell this wasn't going to work. There wasn't anything wrong with Tyrus. He just needed to be left alone for a while. Throughout the rest of the day, Tyrus reflected on that morning's event. He was still grounded and couldn't do anything else.
Monday morning finally came, and he was feeling sick. He wanted to stay home from school but knew his mom would just see it as a means to delay the detention he had to serve. Luckily for Tyrus, the school day was flying by. Until P.E.. Tyrus had always wore jeans or long pants of some sort while at school because he was paranoid about the appearance of his legs since the accident.
This was the second day of physical education of the school year because they only have it every other day with a free period given on the days they don't have the class. The first class period, the students didn't have to change. With it being the first of the year, all they did was get assigned lockers. As if he wasn't self-conscious enough already, Colton was in his class, and he was still mad about the detention they were to serve after school that day.
"Ready to spend some quality time together after school, Baldwin?" Colton asked with a shove as the teacher was taking attendance. "Wait a minute. You're still wearing your jeans?"
"Oh yeah, I forgot my shorts for class today, I guess. Oh well, it won't be that big of a deal. Not like I was using my legs anyway, right?" he lied with a little laugh at himself in hopes that Colton would drop the subject.
"Baldwin!" Mr. Krause shouted out with a different tone than he had said the rest of the list.
​"Here," he said back. 
"Where are your shorts, son? This is P.E., you get that, kid? This is serious. It's even the peak of some people's high school careers- nay the peak of their lives will take place in these great walls," He said motioning his arms in a circle. "And you're going to disrespect this nation's one defense against obesity and becoming anything other than the greatest country in the world? Is that what you want, son, to fall behind China in yet another subject?"
"No, sir. It's just that I'm against people seeing my legs after my accident and all. Maybe there is some type of sweatpants or lounging pants I could wear in gym class," he said, rolling over to the teacher as to not discuss his business with everyone in the room.
"Oh lounging pants eh son?" Mr. Krause was still shouting. "You came here to lounge? Is that why you show up to physical education? To lounge? Or to beat your fellow peers at anything and everything imaginable."
"I don't think you understand Mr. Krause, I'm very perplexed as to why you're shouting but nonetheless 'lounging' is just in the name I'd still be doing the same activities, I even said 'sweatpants' as another option. When I was in Ms. Morrison's class people would wear pants all the time."
"No sir! In this classroom we have one uniform just like the branches of the military who so proudly serve to see to it that we are never defeated at anything. You think discontinuity such as varying uniforms led to the victory we so sweetly tasted in back to back world wars?"
"I'm more surprised that you do believe that the lack of variation in uniforms is the sole purpose we have won both those wars."
"Listen here son, cause I'm only going to say this one more time, I don't care if your legs look like you got dragged behind a pick-up truck down a gravel road for three miles, in my classroom we wear one uniform and it's our white shirt and blue shorts you got that? It may sound like I'm just being a jerk about this but I have my reasons. You can't let the fear of what other people think of you change your life. And if you just go with it without trying to make a big fuss about it I guarantee that no one will read that much into it. Now go change or else I'll have to mark you absent for today."
Ty wanted to try and argue his point more but knew it was going nowhere fast, so he rolled back to his locker and put on his P.E. shorts. Maybe it was just heightened by his imagination, but the scars on his legs had looked worse than they ever had. He also took notice to how small his legs were in comparison to the rest of his body. He still liked to keep fit doing cardio workouts and lifting weights but had no way to give his legs exercise. They didn't even support him on a daily basis anymore, so the rest of him was getting bigger and healthier. It just made his legs look worse in comparison. He tried to keep positive thoughts in mind as he headed back to the gymnasium where everyone else had already started their warm up laps.
"Much better, Baldwin!" Krause shouted while giving him a thumbs up. "Now that's that American dedication to being the best."
Tyrus was feeling better about his body after getting some positive feedback but realized the whole spectacle he created with his teacher had generated a lot of attention and was still on edge.
"Oh, gross. You should have just taken the absence, chicken legs," Colton said as he ran past. He rolled to keep pace with Colton and, without saying a word, initiated that he was not fazed by the boy's insult. The two kept in stride with one another, looking over at each other's sweat covered faces every few seconds or so. After a few glances, Colton would accelerate in an attempt to leave him behind. Tyrus would simply speed up and the two would look intensely at each other once again. Finally, Colton had had enough and decided to use the cones set up outlining the gym as obstacles for Ty. As he ran by them, he would push them into Tyrus' path, trying to trip him up. Now swerving left and right, Tyrus managed to avoid everything in his way, much to Colton's dismay. On the last cone, he came up behind him, grabbed his handlebars, and gave him a shove towards the bleachers. In a panic to stop before crashing, Tyrus tried to brake but was unable to do so in time. He smashed into the side of the bleachers.
"What is your problem?!" he shouted back at Colton after stopping. Colton didn't say anything. He just ran off with a smile on his face.
Mr. Krause had seen the whole thing but was an avid believer of "survival of the fittest." He was often even known for allowing students to fight.
"If two kids want to duke it out in my classroom, I'm not going to stop them. This is America and in America if you have a problem with someone, you punch them square in the jaw and see if they hit you back. If the rest of the world wants to be a bunch of pansies and talk about their feelings or whatever, that's fine, but here, in these four walls, I don't wanna hear anything you have to say. You either fight me or buzz off," Mr. Krause once said in an interview with The Asheville Heights High Newspaper.
Tyrus was hesitant to fight. It didn't matter that he wouldn't get in trouble if he just ends up getting beat up like the last time they dueled. He would have to let this one go. He would just wait for some time when they're not in Krause's class, and he could get Colt suspended. So he rolled back over with the rest of the students as if nothing had happened.
"Alright, listen up, pennies. The school wants me to teach you kids yoga for weeks one through four, but that sounds super stupid. So we're going to pass on that and just play dodgeball. Any questions?"
One kid raised his hand. "Yeah, um, why did you just call us pennies?"
"Ahh, you must be a freshman. What's your name, son?"
"Reggie Bryson, sir," Reggie told him, now upset that he revealed to everyone he was a freshman.
"Well, you see, Reggie, I call you all pennies because much like the form of currency, you children are small and worthless. There's also too many of you. I swear, some of your parents are like rabbits. Any more questions?" Krause said back sternly.
Tyrus raised his hand. "Um yes, why can't we just do yoga?"
"You would like that, wouldn't you, Jeans? Listen here. There are only two things that have won this country wars. You know what those are, boy? It's dodging, and it's balls. So one great man named Bodger Dall put them together and created the most beloved sport in the entire world. Dodgeball," Krause shouted back.
"Literally none of that is true. Like not a single word you said can be proven or even sounds believable," Tanner said.
"Well, you know what, Mr. Facts? You just bought yourself one round in the pit. Does anyone volunteer to go against Tanner for extra credit points?"
"I'll do it!" Colton said. "This is for not doing the project by yourself, fairy boy."
​The Pit was some type of makeshift ball pit that Krause put pedestals in as two people would fight with oversized Q-tips. No one was really sure how Mr. Krause was still able to keep and use the pit. No one was really sure how Mr. Krause did a lot of things, or still had his job, for that matter. The two boys put on their safety gear and stepped inside the pit.
​"Alright pennies, you know the rules, there will be three rounds. First one to knock their opponent off of their perch will win a round. The one who wins the most of the three gets extra credit points. But if you lose, you spend the rest of your life being called a Canadian. Because in my eyes, you're a loser." Mr. Krause was jumping with excitement. 
"Listen, Colton, let's just make this quick. You'll get your meaningless extra credit, and we can all move on," Tanner pleaded. Colton didn't even respond. He just stood there and waited for the whistle. When it sounded, Colton hit Tanner, who immediately fell over.
"Come on, Tanner, let's see some fight in you, son!" Krause said from outside the pit. The whistle sounded again and the same thing happened. "No! No! No! This isn't how the Pit is supposed to work. You can't simply throw a competition! This is America! New rules. Get down from the pedestals and fight in the Pit until we have a real winner."
​All of the other boys were watching in excitement.  All of the girls were just glad they didn't have to play dodgeball. Colton began to hit Tanner again, not having to cease since they couldn't fall off of the pedestals anymore. Tanner was defenseless, just mercilessly beaten.
"Call it off!" Tyrus began to shout.
"That's not what Americans do. We fight until we can't anymore! That's what makes us great." Everyone else started to agree that they had seen enough and wanted it to end, but Krause still refused to stop it. Colton struck Tanner across the face and before he could even get his stick back up to protect himself Colton hit him again, directly in the nose. He fell backwards and stayed on the ground as everyone looked on in concern. Upon standing up, Tanner's nose was gushing out blood like a fountain.
"In America, we are firm believers that the first one to draw blood is the winner of the match. Come on out here, boys. It's over. Canada, you fought really poorly. I mean really poorly. I guess that's why you're Canada. Now then, back to dodgeball," Krause said to his students with a smile. Dodgeball used to be Tyrus' favorite unit in gym class besides basketball, but being in the chair made things difficult to say the least.
"Alright, son!" The teacher said as Tyrus was rolling over to the line of kids. "There's not much you can do in that chair in terms of mobility. I know a lot of the other handicapped kids in Ms. Duwett's class get to be referees or something stupid like that, but here in my class, that will not fly. We're going to use you as a cannon of sorts."
"What does that even mean?" he asked.
"You're going to sit stationary and launch balls at the opposing team while also serving as cover for your teammates, son! Just think of yourself as the unsung American hero of your class."
"That sounds really awful. I cannot honestly think of many things worse than sitting in my chair and being barraged."
"Well son, the beauty of this being my classroom is the fact that I can do whatever I want! Now, either you are going to be your team's cannon, or you'll take a zero in the grade book for a day."
"I'll gladly take the zero, sir. Grades in this class don't exactly matter all too much," he pointed out, feeling proud.
"Listen here, ya penny, either you go out there and play, or you'll have a big fat zero in the grade book, and detention to match!"
Tyrus was cornered. He was already in trouble for the detention assigned last week. Getting into more trouble wasn't exactly worth the lack of embarrassment. So for the rest of the period, he sat in his chair ten feet from the back wall, squirming his body like a small robin trapped in birdlime, getting pelted by shots from Colton as the rest of his team scurried around and occasionally used him for protection.
"Glad that's over," Tanner said as he caught up to Tyrus when the students were dismissed to go change out of their uniforms.
"At least you were able to get hit and be out of the game, unlike me, trapped on the court for the whole time receiving an endless amount of kick balls to my body and face," He replied.
"Yeah, sorry about that. I made sure not to hit you when I was throwing."
​Tyrus really didn't know how to feel about Tanner. Prior to his accident, he had defended the boy hundreds of times when he was being harassed by Colton's posse. But there were also the times before his falling out with the group that Tanner was rude towards Tyrus just like the rest of them. It was almost like Tanner was trying to make amends for his previous wrongdoings and thought that befriending Tyrus when he was no longer at the top of the world the two would be even. When he really thought about it, maybe it had nothing to do with Tanner's pride or anything of the sort. It was possible that he wasn't attempting to clear his conscience and rid his mind of demons. Tyrus could rack his brain for hours about what motives Tanner had, but at the end of the day, it was someone who could relate to him and that was all Tyrus really wanted. Finally, class was done for the day and Tyrus went to his locker before heading to room 306 to serve his detention.
"I was beginning to think you boys were going to skip out." A female voice called out as Tyrus rolled in through the doorway. It was Ms. Leeson, the economics teacher. Her young, soft-looking face appeared much more distraught than what he was used to seeing from her as she would walk around the halls.
"Three flights of stairs is a long wait for the elevator, Ms. L," he replied rolling up to a desk.
"Where's Colton?" The teacher asked in a soft voice yet looking very harshly at him.
"I haven't seen him since P.E. I assumed he was already here, since I'm late," Tyrus said back, confused by Colton's absence.
​Though he faked concern in his voice, Colton not showing up to detention would be good for Tyrus. The way detention at Asheville Heights usually worked was that the teacher would be there in the beginning but leave to go into nearby located help centers to offer tutoring to students. Then they would check back in on detention periodically. He didn't expect Colton to cause much trouble, knowing he had just as much to lose by screwing up as Tyrus did but he not being there would get rid of any possible temptation. Yet it didn't make sense because the penalty for skipping detention was receiving another so his not being there would still get him into a fix.
"Well, if Mr. Toppler is not going to show up, I suppose we can just begin your detention time. He'll just have to deal with the prin-"
"I'm here, Ms. Leeson. Sorry for the tardiness. I was talking to coach, explaining that I'd be missing practice today," Colton interrupted. "He was pretty upset with me and yelled for longer than I expected," he said, finishing with a chuckle.
"Well, Colton, you know more than anybody else that when issued a detention, you are supposed to give notice to all coaches and extracurricular leaders BEFORE the serving time. But since both you and Tyrus were late, I suppose we will just start now. Take your seat."
Colton grabbed a chair and sat in a desk on the other side of the classroom.
After roughly twenty minutes of silence and work, Ms. Leeson eyed over all of the troublemakers in her classroom before she left to go and check on the students getting tutored in the help center.
"Ears up, Baldwin," Colton started. "I'm already in enough trouble as it is, so no funny business this time around, you got it?"
"Coming from the kid who started all of this? Don't worry about me. I'm just going to serve my time and get out of here," Tyrus stated back in shock that Colton would implicate their current condition was his fault.
"Hey, both of you, shut up!" A kid called out from his seat. "Are you both dense or something? Leeson is right across the hall and if she hears us, she's going to come back in here and there'll be all sorts of trouble," The kid finished without looking up from his paper.
"What do you care? It's not like you'd get in trouble. You're just sitting there doing your nerd work or whatever. You can't even take yourself away from that worksheet to talk to us right now," Colton said back with arrogance.
​Other kids began to chatter as well, much to the distress of the kid staring down at his worksheet. Tyrus grew concerned. Why would the kid have such a fascination with his homework? Why did he care if other kids were talking? None of it added up, and he wanted to find out what was happening. He noticed the kid's forearm muscles moving rapidly and could tell the kid was texting. It made sense. The kid didn't want the teacher to come in from the noise and bust him for texting. Still, his level of concern for getting busted perplexed him. The teacher would just tell him to put his phone away and that would be the end of it. What was so important for this kid to send and receive that he couldn't wait, or even just be interrupted from it? Intrigued, Tyrus silently rolled away from his desk and made his way over to the boy.
"What are you doing, Wheels?" Colton asked..
"Shhhh," he responded, putting his index finger up to his lips. The kid was sitting at the front of the class, and by the time Tyrus had slowly approached him, the kid had given up on hiding his phone. Tyrus was sitting behind him, looking at the boy's cell as he held it in front of his face to read a new message.
"We're making the drop at the old bridge past the northside gas station tonight at midnight. Bring the money," He read silently to himself as it appeared on the screen. He then realized he knew who the kid was. It was Darius Weiss. Tyrus suddenly understood his unease for the noise and not wanting caught, as well as the nature of the text message. Just as Tyrus was going to silently roll back to his old seat, Ms. Leeson returned.
"Mr. Baldwin, was there something wrong with your spot?" She asked staring directly at him.
"No, ma'am. I just dropped my pencil and it rolled off," Tyrus lied. All attention was turned to him. Up to this point, Darius had no idea that Tyrus was right behind him but now was curious as to why.
"It happened to roll all the way up to the front of the classroom?"
"Yes, ma'am. It bounced on my foot and then just took off. You know how pencils are, always going all over the place." The more Tyrus talked, the less and less believable his story became.
The teacher didn't really care about Tyrus moving, or the lie, or any of it, really, so long as no one had left the classroom or caused any real trouble. "Well let's see to it that it doesn't happen again, I separate you students for a reason, you know."
"It won't. I promise, so long as I can keep it from falling again," he chuckled.
"That's not true, Ms. Leeson!" Colton blurted out. "Tyrus went up to the front of the class so he could check out what Darius was texting to someone on his phone. Which, I shouldn't need to remind you, is against detention period policy."
"What?!" Darius exclaimed while turning around to look at Tyrus.
"He's lying!" Tyrus shouted. "I honestly was just getting my pencil. I was only up there for a second. I didn't even know Darius was on his phone.
"Well, then. Where's the pencil, Wheels?" Colton questioned in a mocking tone.
"Yeah, where is it, Tyrus?" Darius asked, now troubled about what Tyrus might have learned.
Tyrus was trapped. He frantically searched his pockets in hopes of finding a pencil but knew that he had left all of his on his desk at the back of the room. "It's...It's.. I can't find it," he said in defeat.
"Because you were lying," Colton finished for him.
"Mr. Baldwin, though concerning, your actions aren't against detention policy, so you may return to your seat. As for you Mr. Weiss, I am going to be confiscating your phone for the remainder of the period, and you will also be serving another detention for me tomorrow," Ms. Leeson said in the same stern tone she used when asking where Colton was.
Tyrus let out a silent sigh of relief while looking at the teacher before turning to head back to his original seat. When he got to his desk he saw Darius glaring at him.
"What the heck was that?" Tyrus whispered to Colton from his seat. "What happened to 'no funny business'?"
"I didn't partake in any funny business at all. You were the one who decided to play investigator and find out what the weird kid was doing."
"Well, why did you even have to say anything at all!"
"I am a firm believer in the truth, Tyrus. For the truth shall set you free. Who needs a history lesson now?" Colton said smugly before turning back to face the front of the classroom.
For the rest of detention, Ms. Leeson had a student teacher lead her help center and remained in the classroom. As the bell rang, all of the students filed out except for Darius, who was called up to the front to retrieve his cell phone.
"You know the way we do things around here, Mr. Weiss. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow, and this time without your phone."
"Yes, Ms. Leeson," Darius said before walking out.
Tyrus was waiting for the elevator when he saw Darius approaching from the corner of his eye. The bell went off and a light flashed signifying the elevator was on the third floor. He got on, and just as it was beginning to close, Darius walked in as well.
"What did you see on my phone, punk?" Darius questioned as the elevator started to make its descent.
"Huh? Oh don't tell me you actually believe what Colton had to say? He was just making that up so that you would get in trouble. And so that we'd be having this conversation right now."
"Cut the bull, kid. I know that you saw about the drop tonight," Darius reached for the emergency stop on the elevator and pushed it.
"What?" Tyrus once again asked in a long and drawn out voice. "I didn't see anything about a drop. Like egg drop soup, or like cough drops? All drops are good, really. Even if I did see it, it's not like I would do anything. You know, it's your business, man."
"See, that's the thing. It isn't just my business anymore because if anyone finds out about what's going on tonight, things will be really bad for you."
"Hey man, even if I knew what you were talking about, which I don't, you have my word that no one will find out about it," he said with a false sense of calmness in his voice.
"Damn right they won't, because you're going to be right there with me tonight. And if anything happens, the fact that your legs are broken is going to be the least of your worries. I'll see you there at midnight. Look for a text with all of the details from this number," Darius said, handing him a piece of paper before taking his phone and getting Tyrus' number from it. "And remember, we're not playing around about this."
The doors sluggishly opened up on the first floor exposing the boys to the light of Asheville Heights High's south side hallway. Just before walking out of the elevator, Darius turned and punched Tyrus right in the stomach with full force. Tyrus sat there for a second stunned, gasping for air as he watched the boy walk out of his line of sight.
"I don't understand," Brandon said to Tyrus over the phone. "Why in the heck would this guy bring you along to a drop?"
"It's baffling me too man, so many unanswered questions about this. Why wouldn't he just change the date or location so that I wouldn't know? And does he really think I'm going to say something? Like its drugs ok, people buy and sell drugs all the time, who cares?" He said back into the phone quietly while lying on his bed.
"So are you going to go?" Brandon said with alarm in his voice.
"I've been trying to reason with him but the phone number he gave me is apparently only used for sending out locations so I've gotten no responses back."
"How are you even supposed to get there? You're grounded and you can't even drive!"
"Well you see, that's kind of where you come in."
"Oh no, no no no, this isn't 'The Drug Busting Adventures of Baldwin and Decker'. You're going to need to find another ride, what if they kill us?"
"Dude come on, who else am I supposed to ask? Plus this is Asheville Heights, when was the last time someone got murdered here. We show up, they sell the drugs or whatever, and we leave."
"I think you're forgetting that the last time someone got murdered here also involved us Ty! Remember?"
"That wasn't our fault Brandon you know that! Besides I have to go and I need you there."
"I guess you're right, and if anything was to happen to you and I knew I didn't help prevent it I wouldn't be able to forgive myself. This still doesn't make any sense though, after tonight we'll know the faces of every single person who shows up at the drop. It's like a vicious cycle, maybe we should just go to the police with this."
"I'm sure they have everything figured out about all that stuff, maybe they'll wear masks or something I don't know but he said if we go to the police it'll just make things worse," Tyrus said with a worried tone to his voice.
"Of course he said that Ty! What did you expect him to tell you 'oh go right ahead and call the cops on our drug operation'?" Brandon was letting the confusion of this situation best him and was now getting upset.
"I'm just saying we're a couple of teenagers, how are we really going to be a threat to them, and like I said we have to go, or at least I do."
"There you go again Tyrus, why do you always have to be the hero? What is it with you that you feel like you need to go out and protect everyone? Sometimes you have to let people solve their own problems, whether they succeed or fail, it's not your problem."
"For once, I'm not thinking of others, going there tonight will be in my best interest that's why I'm going to go."
"Alright," Brandon said reluctantly. "Figure out a way to sneak out and call me when you get the text. I'm still lost on what exactly is going on though."
"In and out Brandon, no fuss, no muss. Just make sure you don't tell anyone."
The two exchanged salutations and Tyrus lay back looking up at the ceiling, formulating a way for him to sneak out of his house.