Scott stood amidst the throng of people in the common area, engaging in conversation with Selena.
"Pfft, a pep rally? What are we, six?" he scoffed, dismissing the excited chatter surrounding the event.
"They can be somewhat enjoyable at times," Selena responded with a shrug, her attention partly on her phone as she scrolled.
"If attendance is mandatory, we might as well make it entertaining, how about a game?" he suggested with a broad grin.
"What sort of game?" she inquired, her voice tinged with apprehension, aware that Scott's idea of fun often bordered on mischief.
"Simple. We openly mock random people. Whoever starts a fight first, wins," he explained, his chuckle revealing a hint of malice.
"Scott, you're such a child," she retorted, rolling her eyes and shaking her head in exasperation.
"Attention students and staff, please proceed to the gymnasium for this morning's welcome back pep rally," announced a booming voice over the intercom.
The announcement set the students and staff in motion, all making their way to the gym in anticipation of Vice Principal Mrs. Howard's customary welcome-back address.
Inside the gymnasium, Miles found a seat beside Beck and her friend Ace. Ace was a tall young man with dark skin and a neatly trimmed black fade, which complemented his light brown eyes. Though his given name was Tracey, he had earned the nickname 'Ace' due to his exceptional athletic abilities on the football field.
"So Miles, how was your summer? I feel like we hardly spoke at all," Ace remarked, leaning towards him.
"Oh, you know me—I was incredibly busy with work, and with all the news lately, my mom practically put us under lockdown," Miles responded.
"Man, my dad thinks it's all nonsense and propaganda. Think about it—what are the odds that Russia would actually target the U.S.?" Ace inquired confidently.
"I'm not sure; my parents are worried too. My dad freaked out when a plane flew over our house yesterday," Beck interjected.
"I'm just saying that it would be an illogical move and highly unlikely," Ace asserted, sitting up straighter and focusing on the floor.
Below them on the bleachers, Eden and Abel were seated closer to the floor, anticipating the start of the pep rally.
"So Abel, you're new here. Tell me— are you excited, nervous, scared?" Eden probed, their excitement growing visibly.
Abel chuckled. "Yeah, I suppose it's a bit of everything. My brother's stories have given me mixed feelings."
"I've heard some tales from my stepbrother too—more about parties and sex than I'd like, but they're stories nonetheless," they replied, sporting a slight smirk.
"Who is your stepbrother? Maybe he knows my brother," he inquired, eager to discover another commonality with his new acquaintance.
"I certainly hope not. Don't misunderstand; I adore Scott, but—"
"Scott?!" Abel exclaimed, inadvertently capturing the attention of others in their row.
"Yes, Scott. Is everything alright?" Eden asked, looking around in bewilderment.
"Yes, everything's fine, sorry. Please, go on," he responded, laughing nervously. Eden was puzzled but let it go.
The gymnasium echoed with subdued conversations as if everyone was privy to the same secret yet hesitant to divulge it. Teachers appeared tense, and students were either anxious or absent. Every few minutes, phones chimed with messages from concerned parents checking on their children or partners ensuring each other's safety.
The palpable nerves in the room fostered an atmosphere of tension and concern among both students and staff.
After an interminable wait, Vice Principal Howard approached the microphone at the gym's center. "Good morning, boys and girls. Welcome back to another outstanding year at Sycamore High. We anticipate exceptional achievements from each of you this year," she announced, trying to stir excitement among the students.
A hush descended upon the gym; not even a whisper was audible, only Scott's muffled chuckles from his perch atop the bleachers.
"Mr. Wilkshire? Is there something you wish to share?" inquired Mrs. Howard.
"No, ma'am. It's just that your blouse gives you a turtle-like appearance," Scott remarked, barely containing his laughter as he gestured towards her forest green turtleneck.
The unexpected comment triggered an outburst of laughter from the students.
"To my office. Now!" commanded Mrs. Howard.
"Don't take it too personally, Ma'am. It was just a joke," retorted Scott as he rose to his feet. "If I have to go, may I at least deliver my final joke? It involves a dog, peanut butter, and Ashur."
The crowd roared with laughter once more, turning their gazes towards Ashur.
Ashur, a sixteen-year-old boy, was clad entirely in black. His shaggy hair, dark brown, fell just past his neck, complementing his outfit and accentuating his bright emerald eyes. He maintained a silent, stern expression before abruptly flipping his middle finger behind him at Scott.
"What's your problem, Scott?" Miles demanded, rising to confront him with visible anger.
"Go fuck yourself, Henderson," retorted Scott with a loud chuckle. Beside him sat Selena, her face the picture of embarrassment. She averted her gaze, trying to dissociate from Scott's crude sense of humor. Beck glanced at her boyfriend as he exchanged barbs with Scott. She considered intervening to defuse the tension but knew it would be futile.
"Seriously, you're such a piece of shit to everyone. Are you being abused at home? Do you need assistance?" Miles taunted, eliciting a wave of laughter from the gym.
"What the fuck did you just say?" Scott's tone shifted as he advanced towards Miles.
"Mr. Wilkshire, Mr. Henderson, you may leave now!" Mrs. Howard interjected, her voice amplified by the microphone and causing feedback through the speakers. The two boys, however, seemed to disregard her as they stood toe-to-toe atop the bleachers, each daring the other to make the first move.
You know what, Henderson? You got a free pass last year because of your dad's 'breakdown', but that's over now. Oh, and tell your cutting-board sister I've been dreaming about her recently," he said, smirking down at Miles.
A collective gasp of shock emanated from everyone as Scott turned to Selena and laughed. Having had enough, Selena excused herself from the area where Scott was seated.
Abel rose from his seat, looking up at Miles and Scott, aware of the impending confrontation.
"That's why I panicked when you mentioned Scott was your stepbrother; there are few people Miles despises, and he happens to top that list," Abel remarked, glancing down at them.
Eden remained silent, mortified by their stepbrother's conduct. They yearned to apologize but found themselves unable to articulate the words. Instead, they could only gaze at the ground, disheartened by Scott's behavior.
A hush descended upon the gym as both students and teachers observed with bated breath. Meanwhile, Mrs. Howard used her handheld radio to inform Mr. Jameson, the head security officer, of the brewing conflict. The students speculated whether this would mark the first fight of the school year—Miles Henderson and Scott Wilkshire poised for a showdown atop the bleachers at 9:45 am. The silence enveloped the gym, punctuated only by the sound of wind stirring the trees outside, casting shifting shadows across the floor. Miles clenched his fist and inhaled deeply. Beck watched her boyfriend intently, fraught with concern yet hopeful for a peaceful resolution.
'"That's what I thought," Scott remarked, ascending the bleachers once more. As he turned away, Miles snapped. A shadow passed over him, and he seized Scott by the shirt, yanking him down the steps. Scott hit the floor with a resounding thud, and then Miles was upon him, pummeling his head with rapid, forceful blows. A roar surged from the onlookers, clamoring for more.
The chant then rose: "Fight! Fight! Fight!" The students leaped from their seats for a clearer view of the fracas. Mrs. Howard hastened up the steps, flanked by Mr. Jameson and two security guards. Mr. Jameson wrenched Miles away from Scott while the others restrained him. As they were led downstairs, both boys struggled and growled.
"Before we proceed to my office, I expect an apology from each of you to your peers for the dreadful scene they witnessed this morning," Mrs. Howard declared, passing the microphone to Miles. He peered into it, aware of the feedback from the powerful speakers as calm returned to the assembly. Scanning the crowd, he noticed his brother concealing his face and that his sister Amanda was absent. Typical—she was likely sequestered in some dim, silent place, solitary as always.
Fuck you," Miles uttered, letting the microphone fall to the floor near Mrs. Howard's feet.
"Is this a joke? I might as well sign off on your expulsion now-"
A chorus of pings and dings interrupted her, emanating from everyone's phones.
A wave of ringtones swept through the room. Mrs. Howard scanned the crowd as students fixated on their phones, their expressions shifting from confusion to panic. Miles exchanged a glance with Abel, who stared at his phone in disbelief.
Seizing the moment of distraction, Miles retrieved his phone from his pocket and gazed at the screen: EMERGENCY ALERT flashed at the top, followed by a chilling message "BALLISTIC MISSILE THREAT FOR MAJOR AND MINOR CITIES ACROSS U.S., THIS IS NOT A DRILL. SEEK IMMEDIATE SHELTER." His hand trembled as he presented his screen to Mrs. Howard, whose face drained of color, her complexion turning so pale that her eyes seemed devoid of whiteness. Abruptly, the fire alarm blared throughout the school. The student body's mood shifted from tense anticipation to sheer terror in an instant, as they scrambled towards the auditorium's side exit.
As the security guard's hold weakened, Miles dashed towards Abel amidst the throng of escaping students.
"Where's Amanda?" he inquired urgently.
"I've no idea; she left before the pep rally started," Abel responded, racking his brain for any clues.
"Damn! We have to find her now!" Miles insisted, making his way to the main hall's door. Together, Miles and Abel navigated the crowded corridors, calling out for their sister.
"She might have gone to the car already!" Abel suggested over the din of the alarm.
"No! She'd look for us with something this important," Miles countered, pressing through the swarm of students heading in the opposite direction.
After running and searching through every corridor, the boys decided to pause in the art hall, just outside the main theater, to catch their breath.
"Where the hell could she be?" Abel inquired, panting, as he clutched his knees trying to regulate his breath. Miles glanced at the plaque mounted on the wall; his lungs felt tight and sore.
"Theater A," he exhaled heavily before gesturing towards the sign.
"Can you think of a place more likely for Amanda Henderson to be hiding?" He remarked, taking slow breaths. The two boys gently pushed open the massive theater doors and cautiously peered inside. Darkness engulfed the room, with only the faint flicker of dim theater bulbs breaking the gloom.
"Amanda!" Abel shouted, surveying the rows of vacant seats.
Miles turned to his left and noticed light switches marked with crumpled pieces of paper. He flipped the one labeled 'Main.' The dome lights overhead flickered to life, bathing the entire theater in light. As they warmed up, Amanda's head popped up from behind a chair, her gaze fixed on them.
"What the fuck is happening?" she demanded, her phone's bright screen illuminating her face, as she peeled her headphones from her head.
"We have to get out of here, now! Hurry, we need to reach the car!" Miles urged, thrusting open the heavy door and signaling Amanda to follow.
The trio hurried through the school towards the nearest exit. The corridors were deserted; everyone else had presumably left for the closest shelter.
In the parking lot, students and teachers scrambled towards the street, aiming for the freeway. Vehicles jostled each other, nearly running over any pedestrians in their path. Any semblance of human decency was swiftly replaced by selfishness and panic. Fueled by caffeine and adrenaline, no one was willing to slow down to assist others. Amidst the turmoil, the Hendersons stood staring at their car across the lot, engulfed by chaos and feeling utterly hopeless.
Miles surveyed each car and individual, restraining his siblings as vehicles zoomed past.
"Now, go!" he yelled, spotting an opening in the traffic and pulling his siblings across the hectic parking lot. The trio dashed, narrowly dodging cars and bicycles as they headed for their getaway parked in the furthest row. They sprinted with all their might, weaving through fast-moving cars and darting children. Finally reaching their destination, they leaped into the car, with Miles immediately flipping his key to start the engine. He scanned through radio static, searching for any news or updates on the unfolding events, but found none.
Once he put the car in reverse, he paused, waiting for a clear path to exit safely.
"What's happening?" Abel inquired, fastening his seatbelt, fearfully.
"I...I don't know. Just pull up any directions; it doesn't matter where. We need to get out of here now," Miles responded, clutching the steering wheel tightly.