Chapter 11

  A Late Bloom-er

  Needless to say, I was late.

  Worst of all, Mr. Wallace did not give me a pass, despite clearly being the one to detain me and make me late for class. That was a demerit.

  To add insult to injury, I was already being compared to my new step-sister.

  “Catarine Bloom, thank you for gracing us with your presence today,” Mr. Zion, our homeroom and first period teacher began. He was the type of hypocritical teacher who would preach about fairness one moment, while turning a blind eye to abuse and actions the next.

  Fortunately, I had made my own pact with the students, namely they mess with me, and certain prized possessions of theirs would go missing. I’d start off small, with pencils, erasers and the like. Small things, things that often go missing to begin with. There are of course, those who cannot take a hint and have to be shown firsthand what it is like to lose.

  My step-sister, Ithica Bloom was one such person. She was the type of person who believed that if she thought she was a good person at heart, then everything she did was just and right. She also believed that she would unlock a Healing related class, and prove to the world how pure her heart was.

  Of course, science and our teachers pointed out how ephemeral scales of measurement like measuring purity and steadfastness were impossible to measure and that there were real scientific measurements that could be used to measure what type of class one could unlock, but she knew better.

  At the time, I had managed to get Ithica, or Icky for short to back off. But now that I was listed as her step-sister that truce no longer seemed to matter, for here she was day one already causing problems.

  “You’re welcome,” I reply back just as sarcastically.

  “Might I ask why you are late, while your sister managed to arrive on time?” Mr. Zion asks.

  “Yes, it seems that the school’s reliance on dogs to conduct generic searches is fraught with biases based on the K9 unit conducting the scans,” I reply.

  “Maybe because they found a bigger bitch and wanted to warn the whole school,” Ithica cut in, her voice low but still able to be carried for the entire class to hear.

  Chuckles.

  “Oh, Icky, you seem to have found your voice again. Congrats, I thought you lost it forever when you know,” I reply back as I make an obscene gesture with my mouth and hand, then proceed to fake cough.

  “Ms. Bloom, that is uncalled for in this classroom and will be met with a second demerit!” Mr. Zion protests. Hearing his hypocrisy, I call him out right then and there.

  “She can call me a bitch, but I can’t imply she is a knob gobbler?” I fire back immediately.

  “Ms. Bloom, that is enough go to detention immediately!”

  I almost want to protest, but then decide that protesting is not worth it, at least not at this point. As I could use a few moments to myself anyways. Not even waiting for any forms to be written.

  By now my being kicked out of class is almost a regular occurrence, at least for when it comes to Mr. Zion’s class.

  I go to the designated room and see a few other kids already in there. Most of these are hold overs from having multiple days of in school suspension in a row. As soon as I enter they all look at me, well at my chest and see the bright green blazer. That’s when a look of confusion crosses their faces for a moment, only for them to look up and see my purple eyes and shock white hair to realize I am a mutt of the Bloom family just shrug. Only one or two I have met before.

  “Papers,” Mr. Karl the burly man at the entry desk asks, his hand behind his back not even looking at me.

  “Oh the way,” I respond.

  Hearing my voice, Karl pauses and turns around, “you here already?”

  His eyes go straight to my eyes, the one thing I like about Karl, he always treats everyone with respect, at first.

  “Sadly,” I respond. I can see Karl is about to gesture for me to go back, but then his eyes flutter down for a second, and then he sees the same thing that caused all the other kids to be confused.

  “Whoa, nice new duds, you get adopted?”

  “Swapped.”

  “Nice, hopefully this will make it so people stop picking on you, eventually,” Mr. Karl stated. Having been here for so long and after being placed as the disciplinarian, Karl knew who were irredeemable and who were just left to fend for themselves. For that alone, I always liked Mr. Karl.

  “Let’s hope so, though it was my own step-sister who instigated this meeting of ours,” I respond.

  If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  Chuckle.

  “Icky’s, I mean Ms. Ithica is at it again?” He asks, then gives a glare at the other students all but daring them to repeat back what they heard while here. The others are standard unawakened students, these are the students that generally have the hardest time in schools. For they are seen as weaker by the other awakened bloodline owners, making it so it is often easier to act out in class and get sent here, than to sit through an entire lecture where you could be targeted from fellow powered and thereby influential students.

  “Yes,” is all I give out.

  Sigh.

  “Well, help yourself to a seat. Feel free to take out the trash if you wish, and you know the rules.”

  I nod, and am about to go to a back seat, when Mr. Karl stops me.

  “Oh and feel free to come back here anytime you need,” Mr. Karl offered.

  “Thank you,” I responded and mean it.

  Not having much else to do, I first practiced mentally going through a few notes for an upcoming song. Then when I needed a moment, I went around removing the trash from the trashcans. One particularly mousy looking student sat in the corner, but then had his eyes light up when he saw me.

  Looking at his food stained clothes, I could see why he was happy to see me as he apparently had breakfast stains on his clothing. Seeing his clothes in such a state I could only wince, knowing that his small frame and childlike appearance all but make him a subject of ridicule. Added to that is the fact that he does not wear a family jacket, indicates that his family has not accepted him as a valid heir.

  Yes, our school made it obvious who was protected and who was not. As an awakened bloodline owner I got a fancy blazer, but others were not so lucky.

  Seeing him, I hold out my hand.

  He nods appreciatively.

  Trash.

  Then like magic, or maybe with this world’s version of magic, I remove the dirt, stains and debris that cover his clothing and leave him with a pristine uniform for the day.

  “Thank you,” he exclaims, tears almost welling up in his eyes as he looks down at his uniform. With that he gets up from his seat and goes to Mr. Karl. Right there, that interchange between Mr. Karl and the student let it be known that he was once again ready to go out and back to classes.

  Mr. Karl seeing the student, looked out to a winding wall clock that told the time.

  “You should wait and escort her to your next class,” Mr. Karl states, indicating me. This was Mr. Karl’s way of giving the mousey boy face. Particularly as he knows that no one would mess with me. At least that is what I thought, and why I didn’t even think twice about any problems with walking the mousey kid to his next class. Sad part, I still can’t remember his name, mostly because he stutters every time he talks to me, making his name particularly hard to remember.

  “S-sure,” the mousey kid responds.

  Hearing him, Mr. Karl gives him a reassuring smile and a slight head nod.

  Chime-chime-chime.

  The bells at the top of the belfry echo out in a melodic tapestry of machinery meets music and somehow fails at both.

  Hearing the bells, Mr. Karl gestures for the two of us to leave, knowing that Mr. Zion is the only one of my instructors who seems to have any issues with me, meaning my odds of being sent back are next to nothing for the rest of the day. Also, it seems that Mr. Karl feels bad for the mousey kid as he almost always has me escort the poor boy to his class.

  “Aa-ff—after you,” the boy finally stammers out, his face flushing an embarrassed shade of red that I can’t help but smile at. He does look cute, like little lost tabby cat. I bow graciously and leave, clutching my first period book in my hands, I plan to make a quick stop at first period, before heading to my next class. This is perfect, as it is right on the way to the mousey kid’s classroom anyways, so a win-win for the both of us.

  Only once we are in the hallway and a foot away from Mr. Karl’s doorway do I feel the need to speak again.

  “I know I keep asking you this, but I am terrible with names,” I begin, “could you please tell me your name again?”

  “Whh-wha? No, no, th-tha-that’s fine. I-I don’t mind. I-I’m—" He manages to get out, then just before he finally tells me his name again, that’s when disaster strikes.

  WHAM!

  Disaster in the form of a menace wearing a faded purple blazer with a burning skull motif, showing both an awakened bloodline and recognition by a prominent family, while throwing the mousey boy to the ground. Worst of all, I saw from the corner of my eye how the jerk purposefully strode towards the boy. I was almost going to let it go, having just gotten out of detention, I realized going back so soon might ruin Mr. Karl’s impression of me.

  Then the jerk opened his mouth, and I no longer seemed to care about decorum.

  “Watch it Feccia,” the proudly arrogant Johny DiVoratore began, trying to use Italian curse words like he knew what they meant.

  Hearing his words directed at the boy who did nothing wrong other than being smaller and not having awoken a bloodline yet caused me to see red. I heard the phrase before, but never did it seem so real to me.

  For there, covering the body of Johny DiVoratore were a cris-cross patchwork of red dots. Seeing them, I could almost tell it was my body’s way of telling me where to aim. Which I did, not even thinking about my weapon, I used what I had on hand. In this case, what I had was a thick text book that was fortunately spine out, towards the enemy.

  Thrust.

  “OOF!” My first strike dug the book deep into the solar plexus of Johny, after which I quickly lowered my angle that I held the book so it faced upwards at an angle. An angle that I then used to drag and grind across Johny’s ribs and sternum. Then once it was up, I saw I glowing red mark that required a quick hook and jab.

  Slam!

  After leaving Johny’s ribcage, the book shot upwards and almost looked like it would miss entirely, had I not performed the last second thrust, and slight twisting. This allowed my book to catch up under Johny’s chin, where it rode inwards, towards his throat and exposed trachea.

  Pop-gurgle.

  There was sick sucking sound as my blow was forceful enough to close Johny’s windpipe shut, as I then pushed him away from the two of us.

  “WHEEZE!”

  Pain filled wheezing filled the hallway as Johny desperately grasped at his neck, while his face turned the same shade of plum purple as his new blazer.

  Not even focusing on Johny, I turned to the mousey boy who looked out at the still wheezing and panicking Johny, then up to me with my outstretched hand. The boy, still confused reached out and mechanically grabbed my hand as I yanked his light body upwards.

  “What is going on here!” The voice of Mr. Karl filled the hallway. With his imposing voice and stature many of the students that had begun to gather around in a ring to watch the spectacle, suddenly dispersed to make way for the massive dean of discipline.

  The mousey boy for his part just looked a bit nervous, but Mr. Karl had to have seen me picking him up off the ground, which is why I go to my defense.

  “Mr. DiSertore here,” I begin, purposefully butchering his and my former last name for anyone that was capable of paying attention to the sleight, “wasn’t watching where he was going and walked straight into him and then continuing not to look walked straight into me and then fell.”

  “HWWUUUUUHHHKK!” Johny still pressed hard to gain air, the airway was opening, but it was apparently a narrow tube he had to use to get air through.

  “If he stopped panicking, he could likely use his awakened Bloom bloodline and heal himself and save him looking like a beached purple walrus.” I begin, offering some cold advice.

  Johny of course glowers at me, but then slowly focuses long enough to begin using his awakened Bloom Bloodline Skill, Minor Heal.

  POP!

  A loud hissing sound, followed by loud forceful wheezing can be heard as Johny’s neck finally expands back to its normal shape and size. Allowing Johny to breathe comfortably.

  “Would you need me to take you to the nurse’s office?" I ask, my tone sugary sweet.

  Hearing my offer, Johny half swims, half pushes his way away on the slick marble floor.

  “Stay away from me,” he hisses as he fights to get up to his knees and tries to stand up, but soon collapses.

  With that I hold my hands up in a sign of surrender, showing the book in my right hand. Seeing the book, I almost smile to myself as I realize my damage and destructive force and intent would not have been possible had it not been for my Improvised Weapon Skill. As for the red spots to aim at, those almost had to be from my Wild Strategist Skill, as I could tell that this Skill too was increasing the more this event went on.

  Mr. Karl went over to Johny to help him up. Then his eyes scanned the area, where his eyes stopped on me, and then the mousey boy next to me, before flicking back to me.

  “All of you need to go to class now,” Mr. Karl ordered, and like that a wave of panic filled most of the other kids who began scurrying away.

  I was about to continue walking the mousey kid back to class, particularly as I needed to still drop off the text book.

  Then seeing the mousey boy, I asked, “hey do you mind dropping this off at Mr. Zion’s classroom for me?”

  “Su-sure,” the mousey boy replied, though I could almost tell that he seemed sad that I was going. Maybe he was afraid that I wouldn’t be there to protect him anymore. Then again with Johny clearly out of the picture and being cared for by Mr. Karl, the odds of someone else randomly picking a fight with him were relatively low.

  “Thanks,” I state, handing over the book as I began going down the hallway, a slight spring to my step.

  As I passed by Johny, our eyes met and I couldn’t help but give him a knowing wink.

  My action, apparently got the response I wanted, as I could see Johny’s face go red. Good, let him focus his ire on me, and no that mousey kid. If he wanted a fight, I was more than enough to bring it to him.

  And that was how I finally entered second period for the day.

  Hopefully, the rest of the day will not be as interesting.