Phoenix Rising: The Veiðimenn Mob, Book Two

Two

In the massive gymnasium on the other side of the school, Memphis, Markus, and Phoenix were warming up with the rest of their class. Memphis grabbed a basketball and dribbled it a few times before jumping to shoot it from the three-pointer line. The net bounced as the ball fell through the opening.

His friends snickered behind him, and he strutted without realizing they were being watched. Suddenly, he stopped as he sensed someone staring at him, the small hairs on his neck and arms standing on end.

"He shoots, and he scores." A familiar voice mocked. It was a voice that both drove him crazy and soothed him.

Memphis turned on his heel to face his father, his eyes full of reluctant submission. "Coach Slade."

"Pick it up.” Thomas glared at his son and pointed to the basketball. "Okay, boys and girls. As always, I start my students off with a warm-up jog. I wanna see three times around the gym floor. Let's go."

Groaning, Memphis winced as the older man gave the whistle around his neck a single, shrill blow. He glanced at his friends, who were shaking their heads, laughing. "You guys knew, and didn't bother to warn me? That sucks!"

"Boys! Get moving or else," Thomas snapped. There was a hidden meaning to his words, and they all understood his “or else” practise that evening would be harder for them if they didn't comply. With Thomas being their physical endurance instructor at the Towers, there would be no slacking off for them.

There was nothing worse than having a relative be your teacher, Phoenix thought with a shudder as he kept up with his friends. "This is so messed up. Memphis, did you know your dad taught at this school?"

"Hell, no," the other boy replied. "I knew he worked at a school, but I never paid enough attention to get the name. Damn it."

"Hindsight’s twenty-twenty, Mem. Yo, Nix, do you think we're going to get his long-ass rules speech again?" Markus asked.

Sweat started to bead as they ran at a steady pace. Their footfalls echoed in the cavernous room, a thunderous sound matched only by Memphis’ father shouting orders. Something that the boys were practically immune to after years of enduring it.

Phoenix turned his dark eyes to Coach Slade. When he knew that the man's attention was elsewhere, he said, “The girls had Uncle Declan's class first. Jax and Luke are in Math right now. Where they got separated from the rest of us, Dad made sure they were in all the same classes at the same time."

Just when their shirts were starting to stick to their skin, Thomas told them to take a two-minute break to get hydrated. He signalled for the three boys to join him at the bleachers. "These kids aren't like you guys, so I appreciate that you kept a good pace today. Endurance training is at five sharp. Don’t be late.”

"No problem, Sir. We’ll be there," Phoenix replied. He ran a hand through his blond hair and sighed as they walked back to the rest of the class, "Damn it, they're looking at us weird."

"What do you expect, Phoenix. With our looks, it’s obvious that the rest of the class are either jealous or daydreaming about dating us," Memphis joked.

Markus laughed nervously, "What would you guys say if one of us was, you know, gay?"

"Don't bother confessing, Mark," Phoenix breathed before taking a swig from the water fountain. "We've known since we were kids, so don't stress over it. The hardest part is going to be coming clean to your dad, but my mom would beat Trace’s ass sideways if he ever hurt you."

"Yeah, man," Memphis laughed. "I got a bet going with Kenni that Jaxon's gay too, but I'm not sure if it's true or not. I mean, it’s hard enough to get him out of the apartment to go to the arcade, and it's not like he flaunts it."

Markus leaned in closer, his grey eyes gleaming. "I'll let you in on a little secret as long as you split the winnings with me."

"Shoot, are you serious," Memphis asked. "I can't lose to her again, Mark. She's freaking ruthless."

Phoenix chuckled, knowing that Kennedy really was one of the most brutal people he knew. Smirking, he inquired, "Getting desperate, Dragon?"

"You know it, Firebird," his friend retorted. The codenames had been earned over time, handed down to them as a reflection of their individual personalities. Memphis was

Shaking his head, Markus bit his lip, "Coming out to the two of you was easier than I thought it would be. Thanks for still having my back, guys. I can prove that Jax is gay, but I need us all in one place to make my move on him at some point. His sister, me, and my brother were the only ones that actually knew, and I found out by accident when I walked in on their conversation one day. I know he's not worried about the team finding out. He's more concerned his dad's gonna disown him, but Dave isn’t like that."

"David’s too scared of my mother. You’re right, though. About David, I mean," Phoenix scowled. He wasn't sure what was worse, his mother's temper or his father's ability to sniff out a secret from a mile off. He shrugged it off as the class was called back to the floor to team up for badminton.

******

Somewhere in the central area of the school, Jaxon and Lukas were silently reading through the first chapter of their Canadian Geography books. The teacher had assigned the class questions to complete, ordering them to remain quiet until the dismissal bell rang.

Little did the woman know, the two teens were more than capable of talking without a sound. Being fluent in a few different forms of ASL, they had no problem helping each other with the work they were doing. Their siblings and other friends were two grades above them, all due to Jaxon and Lukas being several years younger.

Flicking his fingers in quick concession, Lukas told Jaxon where to find the next answer. While he jotted down the information, he sighed heavily. Suddenly, a shadow fell over them. They looked up to see the teacher staring down at them.

Her gaze was weary, as if she’d seen what they were doing. “Any questions, boys? I know you’re new to the school, after all.”

Jaxon frowned, withdrawing into himself slightly as he glanced nervously at Lukas for help. Lukas, in turn, beamed at the woman. “We’re fine. Sorry about my friend, Ma’am. See, he’s got anxiety, so he’s not really great with direct confrontation. As for the work, we’re okay with it.”

“Is that right? Well, it looked like you were trying to get each others attention a few moments ago with the way you were moving your hands. I’m not stupid,” she snapped quietly.

A surge of anger overthrew his anxiety, making Jaxon snap at the woman in defence of his friend. “Dangsin-eun amugeosdo molla.”

Taken aback by the teens sudden use of a completely different language, the teacher paled. “W-What?”

“Uh, um, I’m sorry. I just… You’re m-making baseless assumptions, and I g-got angry,” Jaxon stammered out.

Lukas breathed a sigh, “Ms. Nolan, he’s originally from Korea and often speaks the language when he’s stressed. He said that you don’t know anything, but he’s lashing out because, to him, you’re targeting me. Us. We really are fine with the workload, and we really weren’t doing anything out of the way. I was simply letting him know with hand movements that he was doing fine on our first day in public school.”

Barely hiding her distain when Lukas mentioned that Jaxon was Korean, the woman struggled not to roll her eyes. “I see. Well, let me see your work.”

Obediently handing over their notebooks, they expectantly gazed up at her while she looked over their perfected cursive. She frowned at the work, glancing at other students. Some were using a messy mix of calligraphy and printing, but she was apparently more concerned about something else. “What’s this? Cursive?”

Several students, who were trying to inconspicuously watch the unfolding scene, glared at them. Raising a black brow, Jaxon’s frown turned into a scowl. “It was taught to us when we went to St. Augustus’.”

Both brows shot up into her hairline. “That’s a prep school. What? You think you’re better than your classmates because you went to some high-end institution? Get real. You’re like everyone else here, so act like it.”

Lukas, having enough of her attitude, clicked his tongue. “Ms. Nolan, are you favouring the others? Aren’t you supposed to be impartial?”

Glaring at the teen, she roughly handed back their notebooks. “I shouldn’t have to tell you that you need to write so that your teachers can clearly understand your work.”

“In other words, you can’t read cursive, can you?” Jaxon asked cautiously, knowing that any kind of misstep would have them facing the Principal. There was no hint of anything but curiosity in his voice, but the teacher suddenly became flustered.

“OUT! Get out of my classroom!” She yelled, triggering Jaxon’s fight or flight in the worse way possible.

By the time they got to the office with their books, Declan was already waiting for them. Their heads down and their eyes holding no trace of guilt, he nodded once. “I didn’t expect to have you two be the first sent to the office. Something must have happened. Hey, Jax, do I need to call your father? You look like you need a timeout.”

Shaking his head, Jaxon clung to his best friend with a mix of apprehension and anger. “Our teacher yelled at us for asking if she could read cursive because she complained that we needed to be like everyone else.”

His gaze narrowing dangerously, Declan nodded. Handing them each a hall pass, he said, “Luke, take Jax to the library to calm down. I’ll cover you while I get this sorted. Are my orders clear?”

“As crystal,” Lukas replied.