Butler Boy - Chapter 10

Back to school.

Oh.

Boy.

“You know, for someone who never really went out for sports, you're not bad,” Algernon complimented as I kept pace with him. “...and break!”

But first, exercise.

Astrid, on the other hand, took a few faltering steps and slid to the curb in front of the house we were passing, gasping for breath and grasping for her water bottle.

“Drink slowly,” Algie warned us both, “you really will get a cramp if you down that entire thing. Mouthfuls at a time and them big sips. We're halfway done with the run and we'll have one more break before we get back home. You don't want to drink it all just yet, anyway.”

“Why did I – huff – agree to this?” Astrid begged between harsh breaths and greedy slurps from her water.

“Cause you forgot how much work getting into shape would be?” I asked, working my legs as my runner's high slowed down.

“Lapse in common sense, probably right,” Astrid sighed miserably.

“Second thoughts?” I asked her, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, but I should definitely keep up with it,” Astrid sighed. “My big sis is on the track and field team in high school and it seems like fun.”

“Track and field?” Algie asked, cocking his head before he snapped his fingers. “I knew you looked familiar! You're Mary's kid sister, aren't you?”

Astrid nodded with a shrug. “Yeah, you know her?”

Algie made a complicated expression. “I know about her? We've had a class or two together over the years, at least.”

I turned to Astrid. “Your sister's really popular and has a lot of guys crushing on her in high school.”

She blinked, then giggled, covering her mouth as she blushed. “Arden! You can't just say that, geeze! Yeah... sis complains all the time about how all the guys just stare at her and only the jerks ask her out.”

I turned to my brother. “That means you should go for it, bro.”

Algie jerked as he was drinking from his own water bottle, almost choking as he spit it out. “You – hack – little twerp! I'm the one who's supposed to be teasing you! Out here getting sweaty with your girlfriend and everything!”

“Ah!” Astrid squeaked, her eyes going wide as she looked down at her sweat-soaked top.

I averted my eyes by rolling them and raised a one-fingered salute at Algernon. “I go to bat for you and this is the thanks I get. Thanks, Algie.”

“Hey! You're Arden Villin, aren't you!?”

I winced in response to the volume of the cry as I looked over to where... hmm, I'm going to go with an Asian-American teenager was jogging carefully towards us, carrying a tote full of coffees. Honestly, I would have said Latin-American, but I could pick out the partial epicanthic fold-

Has my vision always been this good?

I shook off the intrusive thought as the young woman closed the distance, my brother stepping up to put himself between coffee-girl and myself and Astrid.

“You need to stop there before you come any closer,” Algie stated with a scowl, holding one hand palm-out in warning. “I don't know who you are, that means you don't get to talk to my brother even if you know his name.”

I shared an impressed look with Astrid behind the older boy's back.

Huh, go Algie.

“A-ahah, sorry!” The young woman squeaked under my brother's narrowed gaze. “I-I'm Lois! I'm interning with the Denver branch of the Daily Planet-”

“Pull the other one,” I stated, frowning myself now. “Lois Lane is a reporter in Metropolis. I've seen her do interviews.”

The girl stopped, blinking, then groaned and slapped her face. “Damn it, cuz... ugh! I'm Lois Jiyu Sullivan. Lois Lane is my cousin and my family just really likes the name for some reason. I even have a cousin in Iowa named Louis Lane, if you can believe it. Look, I've got a press pass... somewhere­-here!”

After awkwardly rummaging through the pockets of her oversized coat, she pulled out a badge in a stained holder

“Okay, I'm Algernon Robert Villin,” Algie stated, not moving an inch beyond flicking his gaze towards the card for a brief moment. “And you still don't get to talk to my brother, Ms. Sullivan.”

“Oh, come on, please?” Lois begged pathetically, almost upsetting the coffee carrier she was holding. “It'd be a huge favor! No one's been able to talk to him straight on! It's all been through your parents. People want to know what his side of the story is.”

“People,” I put a certain sarcastic emphasis on the word as I stepped up to Algie's side, “aren't entitled to know the personal details of my life. My parents have issued two formal press statements and my father is the chief of police for our town. You can easily contact either of them for more information.”

“B-but don't you want to get your side of things out?” Lois asked, a smidge desperately as she smiled.

“If I feel the need for that, I'd go to a therapist,” I replied frankly with a shake of my head. “Not a reporter. Try again.”

Lois hissed and grimaced. “I-I'd owe you one?”

Which... is more valuable than she knows, actually. I remember the name 'Sullivan' being associated with the Lanes in some continuities and the reaction to my – admittedly – slightly off the wall accusation would suggest honesty.

Presuming that she was telling the truth, a connection to Lois meant a connection to Clark by proxy, even if she didn't know it. Moreover...

I looked her over again. Her pants were stained, with the look of someone who didn't understand how to actually get the discoloration out. One of the pant legs was torn in a way that was neither stylish nor appealing. Her jacket might be nominally clean, but her shirt had a faded coloration that lent itself to being worn too many times, the repeated washing having drained it of its former vibrancy.

She was... kind of a disaster.

“Ma'am,” Algie began, “my brother isn't-”

“Friday,” I interjected, much to my brother's surprise, Astrid blinking at me as well. “You and a recorder, I get to check questions beforehand, and my parents have final say on approving the article you write.”

“Deal!” Lois grinned widely, looking as if she'd just won the lottery as she threw up her hands-

-and the coffee came down in a brief caffeinated shower.

Right on her head.

Lois closed her eyes, palmed her face, and sighed. “Nuts.”

“Friday, our house. Say... five in the afternoon,” I repeated slowly, some of her lost vigor coming back as I stepped away from the growing pool of brown sludge. “You should know where that is. We're going to go finish our run and get ready for school now, have a... nice day?”

A few moments later, the three of us had left Lois standing there, trying in vain to clean herself off with the pocket full of napkins she had stored away as she walked back the way she'd come. Most likely to reorder the coffee she'd just spilled.

“Why'd you agree to that?” Astrid asked, frowning at me.

An interesting part of my skill in the art of love and attraction? I could pick out jealousy.

“I don't kick puppies,” I told my girlfriend bluntly.

Astrid blinked, then sputtered with laughter as the response dropped.

“Just watch out,” Algie advised me. “And you're going to be the one telling Mom and Dad about this.”

I sighed. Even if I actually did have a good argument for letting me go through with the interview, that would be all sorts of fun. Still, if I could jump start someone's career by giving them an inside scoop about a potential plea deal being reached... well, that was better than just handing it over to some seasoned big-wig, in my opinion.

…

“See, told you he'd still have both arms. And the legs, too, idiot.”

“Yo, genius! Glad you're alright, man!”

“I thought he'd be bigger.”

“Thanks for the two week vacation, Villin!”

“Ugh, he's thirteen! Did you forget about that?”

“Lookin' good, Arden! See you in class, dude!”

“Fucking crazy, man. I heard he dug his way out of there with a plastic spoon.”

“Don't leave me hangin' here, hombre!”

“I'm just surprised they let him come back after all that! My uncle said they're suing the school.”

“Good looking out, Arden. Heard about your MacGyver shit, fuckin' sweet!”

“How's that work? I mean, can he go here while they're suing it?”

“Keep the faith, brother.”

“Pfft – forget him, I'd rather just have the next two weeks and go straight to spring break!”

“Hit me up sometime, shorty, we'll hang.”

“If they did that, we'd have to spend some of summer vacation in school, dingus! Pulling all that asbestos shit out of the basement burned through the days they had built into the calendar for natural disasters and stuff.”

“Yo! I'm throwing a party at my place for Spring Break! Wanna see you there!”

“Whoa... that was Harrison Keller, wasn't it? What the fuck is he doing talking to the bunker kid?”

“Call me sometime Arty!”

“Don't you watch the news? He's rich. Like, lottery jackpot rich. Genius stock investment money.”

...and on and on it went.

For every rumor, there was a direct address to me, personally. Most of them were a mix of relieved, happy, and well-wishing. For the most part, the student body here was legitimately friendly and pretty low-stress about things. Outside of a few problems, like the Baxters insisted they brand themselves as, I barely ever had any real grief from anyone.

However, with the recent scare, well...

Algie was... reluctant to part with me to go to his classes, but he eventually had to. He'd be a senior next year and the heat would really be on for him. Two weeks out of school was pushing it for knowledge retention. Still, it was interesting to see him moving about the various cliques and groups with one ear cocked.

Maybe I'd think about asking him to teach me some of that stealth skill he picked up?

It was a skill, after all. Those could be taught and learned.

“I want you to punch me.”

I rolled my eyes, “I'm not going to punch you.”

“Right in the face.”

I groaned, shifting the last textbook from my backpack to my locker, a practice that I still had mixed feelings over. On the one hand, I liked textbooks. I enjoyed the fact that a class had a structured series of units available for reference in a single physical book. Especially when I knew that the cheaper and stupider alternative on the way was the electronic crap that would be rolling out in a decade or so.

On the other hand, ouch my fucking spine.

“I am not punching you, it was not your fault, and you're already ugly enough that I don't want to further endanger your dating options,” I stated firmly, slamming my locker shut and looking at my nominal best friend.

Well, there was Mike, but when you effectively go to a different school, there's a limit to how much you can hang out or have in common.

“Fine, I'll get your brother to do it instead.”

“For fuck's sake, Sebas, just let it lie,” I grumbled.

“For the honor of my people, I cannot. I owe you a life debt for failing my bond of friendship,” he stated stoically.

I sighed again, leaning against the expanse of lockers and pressing my head against the cool metal. “Sebastian Rainwater, for the love of the Presence, I will actually punch you in the face if you don't stop.”

“So either way, I win,” he grinned, a flash of white teeth against skin the color of red-brown clay with long dark hair that was swept back into a loose ponytail. His clothes were dark with a Nirvana logo on them, topped by a long brown leather coat that trailed down to his ankles with a red dot inked on his forehead and heavy boots that matched my own.

“It wasn't your fucking fault, okay.” I stared him down, my blue eyes meeting his hazel.

He looked away first. “I shoulda' been there, man. It's fucked up. I was looking for you all afternoon, dammit. I thought you'd just decided to hide out with a book or something like you do sometimes.”

“I do default to my introvert settings, that's true,” I shrugged. “Still not your fault, though. It was those two idiots and that's it.”

“Yeah, but I couldn't even fucking call to check up on you, some friend I am,” he bitched.

“That's more to do with our moms than you or me,” I replied. “You know she'd freak if you called the house – and then she'd call your mom and it'd be this whole thing.”

“Yep,” he sighed, nodding. “Still... sorry. I owe you one, okay?”

I stared at him for another moment, then nodded with no small bit of exasperation. “Alright, fine. If it'll make you feel better. You don't get to whine when I call you up at three AM to bury a body or something.”

“Alright, I'll take that,” he nodded, then clapped me on the shoulder. “Still, good to see you back. Glad you're not dead or in a wheelchair or something, that would have sucked. You're still the only person around here I can stand to talk to.”

Algie, my self-appointed guard dog, took that opportunity to pass by, flicking a glance at Sebas and immediately looking away.

Which was pretty on point for him, honestly.

Algernon pointedly did not know that Sebastian and I were friends. He'd never confirmed it, at least, which meant he could honestly tell Mom exactly that. Which, as I'd reminded Sebas, was a good thing given our respective mothers' antipathy towards each other.

I didn't particularly know the entire backstory about that fight, truth be told. I was pretty sure it started out as a matter of religion and just kind of spiraled into two people unable to swallow their pride and reconcile. Sebas and I had bumped into each other at a book fair in middle school and been the only two mega-nerds in the school going after the crunchier sci-fi and stranger fantasy books.

Yes, we were A Wrinkle in Time kids.

Sebas an I were also tightly bound by the mutual belief that Lord of the Rings was... well, just kind of overrated. No shade on Tolkien himself, the man was a literary genius, I just didn't like his writing style.

“So... had fun being off-school, at least?” Sebas asked with a shrug, looking a bit lost for conversation topics now that we'd exhausted the first.

“Eh, a bit,” I replied, scratching at my neck. “Caught up on TV watching, kind of sick of it now. Mom finally let me loose over the weekend. Went on a little hike Sunday after being trapped inside for so long. Oh, I asked Astrid out, from my scout troop. Date was Saturday, went pretty well.”

“Dude!” Sebas grinned again, holding out a flat hand, which I clapped with a grin. “Nice. And here I was giving you shit over having a hard time finding a girl around here.”

I snorted, acknowledging the 'shit' he'd given me as the friendly kind. It was a bit of a running joke that-

“Arden! It's so good to see you back!” One of the blond girls in the junior group squealed, bouncing up with her clique. Instantly, I was assaulted with the stereotypical 'girl hugs' as they took turns giving me kisses on the cheek and pressing against me for brief moments.

“Thanks,” I replied belatedly, slightly stunned. “Good to be back!”

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Cathy? Candace? Charlotte? I feel like it was one of those. “Whenever you sue the school, make sure they don't take the budget for the new cheerleader outfits, okay? Thanks, bye!”

There was a moment of silence as a few guys – and girls – threw glances that ranged between amused and envious at me.

“Well, that happened,” Sebastian noted dryly, sounding a bit stunned himself. “Lucky little shit.”

“You know they basically see me as a mascot character for the school and not an actual human being, right?” I asked, shaking the feeling off and jerking my head towards the bathroom.

Most of them, anyway. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that a few were giving me eyes, but...

Since we shared a campus with the middle school students, there was a non-zero chance Astrid would see me today. I was nowhere near stupid enough to have another girl's lipstick on me should that happen.

“Fair, fair... still a lucky little shit,” Sebas stated. “So, you actually going to sue the school?”

“Nope,” I replied, grabbing a fistful of shitty paper towels and getting them mildly damp.

“Really?” Sebas seemed surprised. “Didn't take you for someone willing to turn down free money.”

“It's not free,” I shook my head. “It'll come out of the free lunch program or the science budget or the football team's fuel allotment. Nothing's ever free.”

I knew that better than most, these days.

“Right... this is one of those weird, super-mature things morality things you've got going on,” Sebas hummed. “So what's up?”

“Well, I am getting some money from the school system,” I admitted, “but considering I was almost killed on school grounds, it's nowhere near what I could be taking them for, and they know it. Still, five figures isn't anything to sneeze at. It's about finding the sweet spot between making them notice that they fucked up and dealing real crippling financial damage.”

Faceless institutions only really cared about numbers and metrics at the end of the day. The money was less about compensation and more about making sure they noticed and took steps to prevent something like this from happening again. To that end, giving them the financial equivalent of a black eye was – arguably – the best solution.

Between that and the promise that they'd convert the basement into a safe and usable space for the student body, I felt I was being more than generous.

“And, knowing you, you're not going to want to really fuck with the Baxters, either,” Sebas stated, clicking his tongue.

“Same deal, basically,” I nodded. “Enough to make them notice, make it hurt, and teach them not to do it again. That's what's on the table right now, at least. But if they try to fight it, it'll go to court and they'll face financial ruin, which is what I want to avoid.”

Both Baxter kids had siblings, after all, and they'd never wronged me.

Neither family was rich, exactly, but they were firmly upper-middle class in most respects. Somewhere between ten and twenty thousand for John and Kevin would tighten their belts for a year or two, but not burden their entire family line with inescapable debt.

Again, the point was to meaningfully demonstrate to them that they'd fucked up, make them remember that each time they read off a grocery bill, and avoid the other children in their family turning out the same way.

“Okay, so moderate payday. Cool, cool...” Sebas nodded slowly as he watched me closely while we walked out of the bathroom and towards our shared homeroom. “Now cut the BS, I know that look.”

I chuckled and grinned at him. “The contractor who renovated the bunker a decade ago? Yeah, they're still in business and pretty big. They get taken to the cleaners.”

I wasn't willing to put the screws to the public school system or a pair of families who would already be burdened with court costs for their kids, but a private company that had screwed up and nearly killed me by sealing up the vents they'd been supposed to make safe?

The gloves came off.

Besides, they had insurance to absorb some of the hit.

Sebas held out a hand again, and I slapped my own palm across it smoothly. “Once again, the evil genius amazes me. Smooth moves, super villain.”

I scoffed. “Your flattery skills need work, minion.”

Sebas laughed, a sound just short of cackling.

“Oh, and pick out what kind of car you want for graduation,” I told him with a grin that stopped him in his tracks. “Can't have one of my henchmen driving around in a pile of scrap.”

“Arden...” Sebas trailed off warningly.

Which was the reason I was friends with him.

“Whatever it costs, I'll donate double to the rez,” I informed him bluntly.

He stared at me for another minute, then clicked his tongue. “Fucker. You're lucky I like you. It's not enough your stock tips already paid off my college, now you're talking about buying me a goddamn car.”

“Money's only a problem when you don't have enough of it,” I shook my head. “I'd rather buy something nice for someone I like than sit in a bank's pocket. Fuck the corpos, amiright?”

Sebas rolled his eyes, but his easy grin was back in place. “Yeah, yeah, fuck the corpos.”

Because, hey, my Mom thought Dungeons & Dragons was full of satanic black magic, but Cyberpunk? That futuristic science shit was preem...

Serious topics faded as Sebas and I started squabbling over schoolwork.

As much as school was a pain in the ass and a time-waster now, I had to admit that the return to routine felt comforting.

~~~

More Arden Villin!

And he's back at school!

...which is pretty chill and nothing's exploding? Oh well, give it time.

Also, we get introduced to the last significant character in Arden's life up to this point, Sebastian. He's a bro, so get used to him hanging around.

Other than that? Pretty chill chapter. Next one will feature The Talk. No, not that one. The one with the bullies' Dads. Look forward to it.

Next update? Mind Games. Hopefully some time over the weekend.

Thanks again for all your support! I couldn't do this without your help!