Alphaboy (first draft, work-in-progress)

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Xarpho said:
Besides the boring dialogue, I just can't get over the fact that switched abruptly to the dad's POV mid-chapter. If you want to do that, do not do that mid-chapter. Finish up Sean's story first. Again, I'm sorry if someone has already done something like this, but those are just my thoughts...
Click to expand...
Goodness, how did I miss that? (Because I didn't read to the end, duh.)

This is actually a really good point. Even in third person, we still have a character we'll be focusing on. We started with Sean, so why not end with Sean? Switching the POV mid-chapter isn't recommended and can get confusing. I can't imagine how this would be if it was first person... (Okay, maybe I can. It would be a mess.)

(And I wouldn't worry about saying something someone else did. It means there's definitely a problem.)
 
What I can't get past is that Joe was ok with a man threatening to shoot his son in the dick.
 
Time for Chapter 2, I guess.

In a separate Charger on its own path to Janus Central High, Detective Ben Phillips tried to keep his eyes on the road. At the same time, his daughter Lisa kept drawing them as she sat in the passenger’s seat.
Having everyone drive the same model of car and then mentioning that again is off-putting, unless there was some sort of pay-off down the line that made them having the same model of car plot-relevant.



She was looking out the rolled-up window, away from him. While he was in his usual suit and tie, his daughter had other ideas for appearance and attire on her first day of high school. Her hair, strawberry-blonde like her mother’s, used to fall down to her shoulders, but she insisted on a haircut. She had diamond-stud earrings. She had on tennis shoes without socks, jean shorts and vest, and a shirt that covered her navel just enough to avoid making a scene. Ben doubted she even had a bra on.

Are you sure you're past Molly Ringwald...? This bit makes me wonder abut that, ESPECIALLY bringing up the whole "navel" thing.

Nonetheless, the sun rose and set with her. When his wife died when she was six, he increased the output of his paternal energy tenfold, making sure she would be happy, even when he wasn’t there. Nowadays, she was eager to break away. It came with growth.

[more dialogue]

Skipped for same reason other dialogue was skipped.

He was afraid that because of that, the boys would see opportunity. That angered him. He had a double-barreled sawn-off to remedy their lust.

After dropping her off, he’d follow Joe to headquarters, and from there, their day would begin. He was hesitant about having his daughter attend school with Sean. Joe had told him what he was capable of. The boy’s coming of age did not help matters.

I can tell that he's an overprotective dad, but if he was that overprotective, he would not have let his daughter dress that way, but having a sawn-off shotgun makes his character seem too much like a psycho (if it's not played for comedy). Furthermore, a possession of a weapon modified like so would be a Class 3 Felony in Illinois since not only is the firearm banned in Illinois, where this story is set, (Class A Misdemeanor) but it's within 1000 feet of a school. Him being a detective would only make that worse.

###

As they approached the school, Joe and Ben saw each other in their respective Chargers and waved, with the former staying behind the latter as it pulled into the parking lot.

Sean could see the students flocking into the building through the windshield. The windows were up, but with his hearing, the chatter and the shouting were audible.

Besides the "two of the same cars" fact, why would kids from the suburbs go into a central city high school? Was it a court-ordered integration act that was still on the books since the early '70s?

To his right, he could see the Phillips Charger in the next parking space. Ben, mustachioed, frowning and scruffy like a stereotypical cowboy, glared at him, a clenched fist dangling down the driver’s door.

Sean had known of Mr. Phillips’s existence, but never got the chance to actually see him in the fourteen years he had been a cop’s son. He was expecting a man dressed and cleaned-up like his father, but not a plaid jacket and a hairdo that looked like the business end of a mop.

A haircut that's implied to be long and stringy? I don't think that would fly in any law enforcement group, unless he was undercover as a hobo.

“Ready, son?” Joe asked.

“Sure I am, Dad,” Sean answered.

Sean got out of the car, and so did Joe, who walked to the other side.

“You must be Ben Phillips,” Sean said as he extended his right hand. “Sean Gillespie, the infamous.”

Why would Sean introduce himself like that? If this was a normal superhero origin story, the "super" would want at all costs to look and act like a normal teenager, and at least in Clark Kent's case, kind of wishes he was.

Sean noticed Ben’s face still possessed a scowl. Evidently, the reception to his kindness was lukewarm.

The passenger’s side door of Ben’s car opened. Out stepped a girl, most likely another freshman. She dressed rather provocatively, as he observed as she walked around the car towards him.

Suddenly, she was staring at him. His right hand was still out.

“Happy to meet you,” Ben said. “Sean, this is Lisa. Try anything funny and you will get a double-barrel castration. Got it?”

Threatening to shoot a teenager in the nuts would almost certainly get a suspension at minimum, not to mention getting arrested for a felony (see above).

[more boring stuff]

“What are you talking about? This is today’s style! You and your old man kind of look like you stepped out of Leave it to Beaver.”

See, this is something else I won't get. From what it sounds like, Lisa's outfit is a bit dated in itself, and if not that, the leather-jacketed greaser later on in this chapter definitely is. This would be forgivable if the film was in the 1980s during Molly Ringwald's peak, but then... (see next section)
“I actually like that show,” Sean said.

“What other shows are you into?”

“Father Knows Best. Andy Griffith.”

...how would Sean even be able to watch those? Were those shows even on the air in the 1980s? There wasn't any Internet or even DVDs for legacy shows like these. Given that I was not alive in the 1980s, I wouldn't know for certain, but it's something to think about.

“Aw, yuck,” Lisa responded. She made mock retching noises.

The two stopped at the front entrance. Sean reached for the door handle. “May I do the honors? Ladies first,” he said.

Lisa grabbed Sean’s hand. “No thanks,” she said as she tried to move it away. It remained perfectly still, not budging an inch.

“Your hand… it’s as heavy as an anvil!” She yanked hers away, and began comforting it.

How heavy is his hand? Obviously not that heavy, or else she would have screamed as Sean accidentally broke her bones. Maybe a "magnet" would be a more appropriate comparison if Sean can control these sorts of things.

“My bad, Lisa,” Sean said. He opened the door, and much to Lisa’s amazement, it didn’t fall off of its hinges. “Allow me!”

This suggests that it was hand-crushing powers. Sounds like Lisa's the one with the hands of steel.

Lisa walked right on in, and Sean followed suit.

What they saw inside left something to be desired. Students were scurrying about the main hall. Against one wall, a couple of student resource officers frisked a few older students; Sean could see one of the SROs taking out and opening a box of Altoids that contained vials of the designer drug Z.

Sean had heard about this from his father. The epidemic of Z addiction throughout Janus City, and indeed, throughout the entire state of Illinois, was making headlines and the covers of magazines. His father refused to discuss, like some other things, the Z-related homicides he investigated on an almost daily basis.

See, this is another thing that I won't understand. Why is it important that Janus City is in Illinois, but is not Chicago?

Nearby, a group of younger kids engaged in a game of craps. A girl, dressed even more provocatively than Lisa, handed a small wad of cash to a tall young man dressed in a leather jacket and jeans, with greasy hair down to just below his earlobes. Evidently, by his rough looks, he failed a few times in school.

Remember, kids, just say no...to scenes like this that were cribbed from some old educational film you watched in grade school.

She was a middle-aged woman, ebony and somewhat gone to fat, dressed very professionally. A laminated ID card that hung from her neck identified her as TONYA BURNETT, PRINCIPAL.

“Oh, Principal Burnett!” Sean extended his right hand. “Sean Gillespie, nice to meet you. This is Lisa Phillips.”

Garrett, Lisa, and Burnett were silent. Sean promptly put his right hand back down.

“There are three things wrong with this picture,” Burnett said. “Number one, Cygar, I have you attempting to charm Phillips here. Number two, Phillips, you’re setting a bad precedent by dressing like that on your first day of school, not to mention causing trouble. Number three, Gillespie, you’re playing hero again.”

“Again?” Sean asked. Lisa and Garrett both gave him inquisitive looks.

“Did you really think that I would just let you walk in here without your father calling me beforehand? Besides, I’ve heard of your reputation. Hurry on to class, Phillips. And Cygar, my office, half an hour.”

“If you insist, bitch,” Garrett snarled under his breath as he walked away.

Lisa began to leave as well. “Later, Mr. Gillespie.”

“Uh, it’s okay if you call me Sean.”

“Gillespie… my office. Now.”

###

The office of Tonya Burnett was quite tidy. There were no papers scattered about the desk, and its top was well polished. Sean sat in a chair opposite the desk, facing Burnett, who was thumbing through student records.

“For the most part, Gillespie, you appear to be an exemplary student.”

“I’ve gotten a lot of praise in the past, correct,” Sean said.

“It says here that you played Little League before middle school.”

Sean hesitated. “Yes, ma’am. That I did.”

“They called you the Boy with the the Golden Swing. More home runs than any child in the game.”

“I was a real boy scout. I think I still am.”

“I wouldn’t say that, Mr. Gillespie. Your father let me in on your… quirks. Levitation, acute senses… It says here that in seventh grade, you were in an altercation in the boy’s bathroom. Three of them were put in the hospital.”

With such documented "quirks" (i.e. superpowers) you'd think that he would be homeschooled, sent to an experimental lab, or at the very least, kept a secret.

“Two of them were actually injured. One of them went in for shock.”

“You seem short about it. Let me let you in on something, Mr. Gillespie. If you keep on being short with me, you can think about transferring to another school. Now, why exactly did this incident occur?”

“Well,” Sean said, “When three boys have beaten a sixth grader to a pulp and are holding his head in a toilet one of them has urinated in, you’d probably step in.”

“That I would, but I wouldn’t break bones, give them a speech impediment, or hell, destroy the entire bathroom.”

WHY DIDN'T HE TRANSFER ALREADY? Such an incident sounds like a reason to move, or at least be so notorious that greaser Cygar would know not to bully him.

“I guess I don’t know my own strength.”

“I guess you don’t, Mr. Gillespie. Look, you seem to be a nice kid, I’ll give you that. But if you want to play Clint Eastwood or Charles Bronson, you’ve got another thing coming. Because of what you’re capable of, you ought to be registered as a lethal weapon. The faculty and I want to make this a respectable educational establishment. Unfortunately, with the amount of scumbags in this city, that’s easier said than done. Promise me this, Gillespie… promise me that you won’t see me very often.”

“I give you my word, Mrs. Burnett.”

“You sure as hell better, boy. Go on, to class.”

Without a word, Sean got out of the chair and walked towards the door.

“One last thing, Mr. Gillespie… Don’t break anything.”

Sean smiled. “Gotcha.”

Closing the door behind him, Sean’s smile dissipated. He pulled a cherry lollipop out of his pocket, unwrapped it, and stuck it in his mouth, putting the wadded up paper in the nearby trashcan. He made his way to class, keeping his chin up.

Besides the long winding dialogue, his powers are inconsistent. Can he control them or not? Are others aware of them or not? Are his powers just "quirks" or is he unstable and potentially a huge liability? You seem to be playing them all ways, and it just doesn't work. It might've worked better if he was attacked as a high schooler, leading to a fight, becoming the incident that starts off a chain of events that leads to him becoming a superhero. Remember how in the 2002 Spider-Man film how he gets into a fight with a bully, Uncle Ben gives his words of wisdom, and how Peter angrily walks off, not knowing that would be the last time he sees him alive? With the fight three years ago said to severely injure the bullies and destroy the restroom, he would not have been able to continue the "normal" life he'd been leading.
 
Surtur said:
What I can't get past is that Joe was ok with a man threatening to shoot his son in the dick.
Click to expand...

Joe knows that much like the rest of his son, Sean's dick is alpha powered and indestructible.
 
Connor Bible said:
geffen_03.jpg

CHAPTER ONE


On the morning of his first day of high school, Sean Gillespie awoke in his bedroom to find himself levitating. His face was mere inches away from the blades of the ceiling fan. He sighed, but he was confident that, in time, he could master this ability, just as he did the others over the years.

Lowering himself back onto the mattress was going to require some mental effort on his part. He thought about coming down, and he could feel his body slowly descending. Midway, he lost control of his speed and collapsed into the mattress, leaving a boy-sized impression in it.

Fortunately, he did not go down deep enough to break the support boards. That would have been disastrous. The last time this happened, the boards were split in half, and his father had to install a new ceiling fan.

The impression quickly leveled itself out. For a few moments, Sean stared at the window. The blinds were down, but Sean’s vision was able to peer through many things, even human flesh.

The sun was rising over the Janus City suburb that he and his parents resided in. With his peculiar hearing, he could pick up on the birdsong that filled the outside air. He could even listen in on radio frequencies, which sometimes came in handy.

The quirks, as he called him, were not bothering Sean Gillespie this morning. It was the fact that he would again be in the presence of other kids that instilled some dread and doubt in him. Nevertheless, he looked forward to this day, and suppressed his apprehension. His mother, always the fervent cheerleader, was surely ecstatic.

His backpack had already contained the necessary textbooks and materials. All he needed to do this morning was get dressed and have a quick breakfast. He rose from his bed, stood up in his t-shirt and sweatpants, and stretched. Walking over to the mirrored closet, he picked out a white shirt and black pants. He didn’t want to dress in such a way as to draw unneeded attention. Something simple would suffice.

With his school clothes on, Sean closed the doors of the closet, and saw his reflection. He stood at about 5’7, and while slender, he was well-built and athletic. His hair was short and dark. Most people who had met him say that he looked like a much younger Bruce Lee. The most distinguishing feature of Sean was his piercing blue eyes. Under certain lighting, they had kind of a shine effect.

This was all merely physical. Sean did not fully understand many things about himself, even though many described him as being wise beyond his years. He didn’t understand, really, who he truly was, his place in the grand scheme of things a total mystery. At fourteen, he had left childhood behind and was embarking on an awkward path in his development as an individual. He kept his chin up, but there was always doubt, a sort of wondering.

“This is the first day of the rest of your life,” he said to his reflection. “Let’s make it a good one, shall we?” Sean smirked as he turned around and walked out of his room. At sundown on Saturday, the Janus City Challengers were going to face the Chicago Cubs at Kirby Stadium. He looked forward to it.

###

Having already dressed for the job and with his forty-fives holstered, Detective Joe Gillespie was stuffing his pack of Marlboros in the pocket of his coat when he noticed that more gray hairs were popping up on his fifty-five year old head. His face was bony, and had two scars, a vertical one on his left eyebrow and horizontal one on the cheek below. He adjusted the wedding ring on his finger, the last section of it having been blown off a long time ago. Joe shook his head to escape the trigger, and it was successful.

He looked again at his hair. “I’m too old for this shit,” his said under his breath.

Suddenly, he heard his wife Mary, nee Tsubaraya, sniffling. He turned from where he stood in the bathroom, and slowly walked into the connected bedroom. She, too, was dressed; she had the day shift at Janus City Central as an emergency room nurse.

Joe noticed that she was going through the family photo album, and sat down beside her. Mary wiped a tear from the top of her mouth, rubbing it away from the lightning bolt-shaped scar left from childhood surgery to repair her harelip. Her misty eyes were focused solely on the photos preserved in plastic.

Fourteen years ago, she was holding Sean, just a few months old. His eyes were closed, and unlike most babies, he was unusually silent.

At the age of four, Sean was sitting on top of his father’s shoulders, his little hands resting on his hair, which had more color than it usually did nowadays.

At age ten, Sean was in full Little League gear, mitt and ball in his hands.

“We’ve done a good job, haven’t we?” Mary asked. “With him?”

“I think we’ve done more than great,” Joe answered, smiling with closed lips.

Mary looked at him. “There’s this fear that I have. I’m afraid that because of what he’s capable of…”

“That the kids wouldn’t cotton to him,” Joe finished. “I’d tell them to go screw themselves.”

Mary chuckled, her voice regaining strength. “That’s a lovely way of putting it.”

“I never was the kind of guy that sugarcoats things, Mare.”

“We’ve done so much for Sean. The years have gone by so fast.”

“He’s not a little kid anymore.”

“Yeah, I know that. It just hurts, you know, letting him go his own way.”

“If it was painless, it wouldn’t really be called growing up.”

“I guess you’re right, Joe.” There was an uncomfortable silence as Mary struggled to find the right words to say. She was hesitant, but decided to let it loose from her lips. “Should we tell him? After all this time, should we tell him?”

“Tell me what?” a voice near and dear to them inquired.

Sean was standing in the doorway, dressed for success on his first day of high school, his backpack slung over one shoulder. A look of youthful curiosity filled his face.

“Heya, slugger,” Joe said.

“Good morning, Mom, Dad,” Sean replied. “You’ve… got that look in your eyes. Anything you wanted to tell me?”

Joe and Mary noted that Sean, ever since he was little, had the ability to read facial expressions and physical gestures, picking up on some that most other children did not. “Uh,” Mary said, “Your father and I just wanted to say that--” She choked a bit. “We wanted to say that we’ve been looking forward to this for a long time.”

“I know the feeling,” Sean said empathically. “I’m headed downstairs for breakfast. You want something?”

“Nah, I’m not hungry,” Joe answered while briefly shaking his head. “I got a surprise for you, slugger…”

“Some tickets to the game on Saturday?” Sean suddenly became more animated.

“How’d you know?”

“It’s all in the eyes, Dad,” Sean said, pointing to his face.

Mary suddenly stood up. “Speaking of your looks…”

“Mom…”

“Come on, Seany! You know I have to take a picture for the album.”

“If you insist…”

“What’s the problem with that?” Joe asked.

“Nothing at all. I just don’t think I’m… photogenic, today,” Sean said.

“What do you mean, ‘photogenic’?” Mary said as she dug through the closet in search of the camera.

“Can’t I just let this be an ordinary day?”

“It’s your first day of high school!” Mary said.

“There’s a first time for everything,” Joe followed up. “Mother knows best.”

“You’re still smoking, Dad?” Sean walked towards his father and grabbed the Marlboro box inside of his coat.

“Hey-hey-hey-hey!” Joe exclaimed, gently brushing Sean’s arm away. “Get your hands off! Don’t tell me you’re thinking of taking up my habit!”

“No thanks. Blow Pops are my only vice. I don’t need another.”

“Don’t we all have vices?” Joe said.

“This vice can kill you. It even says so on the box.”

“Well, it’s going to take time to kick it, slugger.”

“Patience is my middle name. That and Percy. Are you driving me to school?”

“Of course I am. Why shouldn’t I? If you’re thinking about flying…”

“Which I was,” Sean finished.

“It’s not a good idea. The kids would flip out.”

“Well, you have a point. That and I haven’t gotten used to it yet. Takes time, like you said.”

“Found it,” Mary said, pulling out the camera. “Let’s head on outside! I want to snap one of you two before you go!”

“Wait, I’m in this too? I’m like Sean, now, I’m not exactly ‘photogenic’ this morning!”

Mary let out a hmmph.

###

After Sean grabbed himself a quick breakfast, the three Gillespies went downstairs and outside into the garage. It was spacious enough to hold Mary’s Toyota and Joe’s unmarked Charger, as well as a large, unseen vehicle that Joe kept covered under tarps.

“Are you still working on the Beast?” Mary asked. “When are you ever going to finish it?”

“Most pet projects do, Mare,” Joe said.

Sean was tempted to peer through the tarps with his special vision, but respected his father’s privacy enough to let it slide.

“You’re fifty-five years old, Joe. Aren’t you a little old to be making man-mobiles?”

“What do you mean, ‘man-mobiles’?”

“Hot rods, pimped out rides, meat machines. Their extensions of your… of your…”

“A little thing that guys have but women lack,” Sean finished for his mother, opening the passenger’s door of the Charger.

“Cut it out, slugger,” Joe chuckled while opening his door and getting in his seat.

“Wait a minute!” Mary exclaimed.

“Oh boy,” Sean said to himself, buckling himself in.

“Just one, before you head off?” Mary was practically begging.

“Alrighty then,” Sean uttered with a sigh. He forced a smile at his mother, and the flash went off. It was done. He looked over and saw that his father was smiling, but with closed lips. Sometimes, he felt his father was kind of a downer.

“Now, did that hurt you?” Mary asked.

“No, not in the slightest. Dad’s probably a little camera shy…”

“Knock it off,” Joe laughed.

All of a sudden, Mary took hold of Sean’s hand, which was hanging out of the passenger’s side window.

“Sean, I’m so proud of you.” She was rubbing his hand. “You know how much we’ve been looking forward to today.”

“I sure do, Mom.”

“Ready to kick some ass, slugger?” Joe asked in an unusually upbeat tone.

“You bet, Dad.”

With that, Joe turned the key, and off the father and son went, waving goodbye as they turned out of the driveway of the Gillespie household and disappeared into cityscape.

END OF CHAPTER ONE
Click to expand...

Connor Bible said:
CHAPTER TWO


In a separate Charger on its own path to Janus Central High, Detective Ben Phillips tried to keep his eyes on the road. At the same time, his daughter Lisa kept drawing them as she sat in the passenger’s seat. She was looking out the rolled-up window, away from him. While he was in his usual suit and tie, his daughter had other ideas for appearance and attire on her first day of high school. Her hair, strawberry-blonde like her mother’s, used to fall down to her shoulders, but she insisted on a haircut. She had diamond-stud earrings. She had on tennis shoes without socks, jean shorts and vest, and a shirt that covered her navel just enough to avoid making a scene. Ben doubted she even had a bra on.

Nonetheless, the sun rose and set with her. When his wife died when she was six, he increased the output of his paternal energy tenfold, making sure she would be happy, even when he wasn’t there. Nowadays, she was eager to break away. It came with growth.

“I’m just fine, if you’re wondering, Dad.” Lisa’s tone of voice had a down in the dumps quality to it.

“You certainly don’t sound like it. This is your first day of high school. Weren’t you supposed to be looking forward to this?”

“Maybe I was.”

“You know, you could’ve put less revealing clothes on.”

“Admit it, I look like a streetwalker.”

“You really have a sunny attitude today.” He made no attempt to hide his sarcasm, but he knew he had a point.

“I said I’m fine.”

If you say so, Ben thought. There was no point in starting an argument with her. She got her temperament from her mother, as well as her beauty.

He was afraid that because of that, the boys would see opportunity. That angered him. He had a double-barreled sawn-off to remedy their lust.

After dropping her off, he’d follow Joe to headquarters, and from there, their day would begin. He was hesitant about having his daughter attend school with Sean. Joe had told him what he was capable of. The boy’s coming of age did not help matters.

###

As they approached the school, Joe and Ben saw each other in their respective Chargers and waved, with the former staying behind the latter as it pulled into the parking lot.

Sean could see the students flocking into the building through the windshield. The windows were up, but with his hearing, the chatter and the shouting were audible.

To his right, he could see the Phillips Charger in the next parking space. Ben, mustachioed, frowning and scruffy like a stereotypical cowboy, glared at him, a clenched fist dangling down the driver’s door.

Sean had known of Mr. Phillips’s existence, but never got the chance to actually see him in the fourteen years he had been a cop’s son. He was expecting a man dressed and cleaned-up like his father, but not a plaid jacket and a hairdo that looked like the business end of a mop.

“Ready, son?” Joe asked.

“Sure I am, Dad,” Sean answered.

Sean got out of the car, and so did Joe, who walked to the other side.

“You must be Ben Phillips,” Sean said as he extended his right hand. “Sean Gillespie, the infamous.”

Sean noticed Ben’s face still possessed a scowl. Evidently, the reception to his kindness was lukewarm.

The passenger’s side door of Ben’s car opened. Out stepped a girl, most likely another freshman. She dressed rather provocatively, as he observed as she walked around the car towards him.

Suddenly, she was staring at him. His right hand was still out.

“Happy to meet you,” Ben said. “Sean, this is Lisa. Try anything funny and you will get a double-barrel castration. Got it?”

Sean gulped.

“Hell of a way to introduce yourself,” Joe said.

“Dad, you can cut the machismo, okay? He doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy that thinks with his dick,” Lisa said.

“Hey! Watch your mouth!” Ben reprimanded.

“She’s right, Mr. Phillips. I’m not that kind of guy.”

“You sure?” Ben asked.

“Absolutely, positively sure,” Sean answered.

“Good,” Ben said. “Otherwise, you’re in a world of pain.”

“Can it, Ben,” Joe said. Sean could already pick up that his father and Ben had an unusual friendship.

“Slick, I’ve got my reasons,” Ben’s glare moved to Joe.

“And I’ve got a problem with your attitude,” Joe said.

“I can’t stand this testosterone fest,” Lisa sighed. “I’m going in. Later, Dad.”

“Later, sweetie,” Ben replied.

For a moment, Sean simply stood as he watched Lisa walk away. There was an “ahem” sound from Joe. He was gesturing with an open hand towards the schoolhouse, smirking.

“See you this, afternoon, and nice meeting you, Mr. Phillips.” Sean quickly walked away.

“Kids these days,” he heard his father say.

###

Sean caught up with Lisa at the front entrance of the school. “You seem to be in a hurry,” he said.

“So do you,” she said.

“Well, of course! First period could start any minute,” Sean said.

“No shit.” Her eyes were away from Sean, focused forward. They both kept walking.

“Wow. You seem happy,” Sean said sardonically. “I thought the first day of high school was supposed to be a positive experience.”

“It is, but my dad’s moaning and groaning about the way I’m dressed. Aren’t I supposed to be myself?”

“Are you?” Sean asked.

“What are you talking about? This is today’s style! You and your old man kind of look like you stepped out of Leave it to Beaver.”

“I actually like that show,” Sean said.

“What other shows are you into?”

“Father Knows Best. Andy Griffith.”

“Aw, yuck,” Lisa responded. She made mock retching noises.

The two stopped at the front entrance. Sean reached for the door handle. “May I do the honors? Ladies first,” he said.

Lisa grabbed Sean’s hand. “No thanks,” she said as she tried to move it away. It remained perfectly still, not budging an inch.

“Your hand… it’s as heavy as an anvil!” She yanked hers away, and began comforting it.

“My bad, Lisa,” Sean said. He opened the door, and much to Lisa’s amazement, it didn’t fall off of its hinges. “Allow me!”

Lisa walked right on in, and Sean followed suit.

What they saw inside left something to be desired. Students were scurrying about the main hall. Against one wall, a couple of student resource officers frisked a few older students; Sean could see one of the SROs taking out and opening a box of Altoids that contained vials of the designer drug Z.

Sean had heard about this from his father. The epidemic of Z addiction throughout Janus City, and indeed, throughout the entire state of Illinois, was making headlines and the covers of magazines. His father refused to discuss, like some other things, the Z-related homicides he investigated on an almost daily basis.

Nearby, a group of younger kids engaged in a game of craps. A girl, dressed even more provocatively than Lisa, handed a small wad of cash to a tall young man dressed in a leather jacket and jeans, with greasy hair down to just below his earlobes. Evidently, by his rough looks, he failed a few times in school.

“Go on, move your ass,” Sean could hear the guy say to the girl.

“We’re in Hell,” Lisa said to Sean.

“I think it’d be a good idea if I helped you to class,” Sean suggested.

“Gee, you think?”

“What’s your first period?” Sean asked.

“Langley,” she replied.

“Hey, that’s my first period, too,” Sean said.

“Yay,” Lisa groaned.

Lisa stepped forward, with Sean staying close behind her. Already, he could notice that the creep in leather was eyeing her. The tall fellow whistled.

“Hey, miss. What’s a nice girl like you walking to class with a fucking LOLCOW like this?”

“I’ve had enough macho bullshit for one day,” Lisa said. “I don’t need any from guys like you.”

“Lisa...” Sean started.

“That includes you, Mr. Cleaver,” Lisa said.

“You know, I can show you around this place, every nook and cranny of it.” The young man’s voice practically oozed with slime.

“Garrett Cygar, that won’t be necessary,” a much older female voice said. All three turned.

She was a middle-aged woman, ebony and somewhat gone to fat, dressed very professionally. A laminated ID card that hung from her neck identified her as TONYA BURNETT, PRINCIPAL.

“Oh, Principal Burnett!” Sean extended his right hand. “Sean Gillespie, nice to meet you. This is Lisa Phillips.”

Garrett, Lisa, and Burnett were silent. Sean promptly put his right hand back down.

“There are three things wrong with this picture,” Burnett said. “Number one, Cygar, I have you attempting to charm Phillips here. Number two, Phillips, you’re setting a bad precedent by dressing like that on your first day of school, not to mention causing trouble. Number three, Gillespie, you’re playing hero again.”

“Again?” Sean asked. Lisa and Garrett both gave him inquisitive looks.

“Did you really think that I would just let you walk in here without your father calling me beforehand? Besides, I’ve heard of your reputation. Hurry on to class, Phillips. And Cygar, my office, half an hour.”

“If you insist, bitch,” Garrett snarled under his breath as he walked away.

Lisa began to leave as well. “Later, Mr. Gillespie.”

“Uh, it’s okay if you call me Sean.”

“Gillespie… my office. Now.”

###

The office of Tonya Burnett was quite tidy. There were no papers scattered about the desk, and its top was well polished. Sean sat in a chair opposite the desk, facing Burnett, who was thumbing through student records.

“For the most part, Gillespie, you appear to be an exemplary student.”

“I’ve gotten a lot of praise in the past, correct,” Sean said.

“It says here that you played Little League before middle school.”

Sean hesitated. “Yes, ma’am. That I did.”

“They called you the Boy with the the Golden Swing. More home runs than any child in the game.”

“I was a real boy scout. I think I still am.”

“I wouldn’t say that, Mr. Gillespie. Your father let me in on your… quirks. Levitation, acute senses… It says here that in seventh grade, you were in an altercation in the boy’s bathroom. Three of them were put in the hospital.”

“Two of them were actually injured. One of them went in for shock.”

“You seem short about it. Let me let you in on something, Mr. Gillespie. If you keep on being short with me, you can think about transferring to another school. Now, why exactly did this incident occur?”

“Well,” Sean said, “When three boys have beaten a sixth grader to a pulp and are holding his head in a toilet one of them has urinated in, you’d probably step in.”

“That I would, but I wouldn’t break bones, give them a speech impediment, or hell, destroy the entire bathroom.”

“I guess I don’t know my own strength.”

“I guess you don’t, Mr. Gillespie. Look, you seem to be a nice kid, I’ll give you that. But if you want to play Clint Eastwood or Charles Bronson, you’ve got another thing coming. Because of what you’re capable of, you ought to be registered as a lethal weapon. The faculty and I want to make this a respectable educational establishment. Unfortunately, with the amount of scumbags in this city, that’s easier said than done. Promise me this, Gillespie… promise me that you won’t see me very often.”

“I give you my word, Mrs. Burnett.”

“You sure as hell better, boy. Go on, to class.”

Without a word, Sean got out of the chair and walked towards the door.

“One last thing, Mr. Gillespie… Don’t break anything.”

Sean smiled. “Gotcha.”

Closing the door behind him, Sean’s smile dissipated. He pulled a cherry lollipop out of his pocket, unwrapped it, and stuck it in his mouth, putting the wadded up paper in the nearby trashcan. He made his way to class, keeping his chin up.

END OF CHAPTER TWO
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tl;dr
 
After reading through the whole thing, I must say... You really need to tone down Mr. Phillips' behavior and (if you intend to keep some of those interactions) have Joe react better to his supposed best friend threatening his son, Connor.
Why, you may ask?

  1. He's acting more like a possessive boyfriend than an overprotective father.
  2. Mr. Gillespie and Mr. Phillips don't act like friends. Why would anyone start threatening their best friend's kid like that?
  3. Mr. Gillespie doesn't react like a guy whose son is being threatened. I don't care if he's known this guy for years. That's his kid.
  4. Seriously, Mr. Phillips is creeping me out.
EDIT: Forgot to mention that the two act like they outright hate each other. That's not how you pull off the Vitriolic Best Buds trope, Connor.
 
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Well Connor at least you wrote words. They're not very good but they are words
 
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