James

The only thing I liked about having my brother have to get wheeled around in a wheelchair all day was that I got to pretend to be better at hockey than him. That really got on his nerves- and I rarely got to do that, since I was always so busy being offended about whatever he was doing. 

True I still had a bruised ribcage from my run in with the stairs. (Not the bone, the skin around it.) But that was fine, since I'd gotten to meet Charlotte Dasah three days ago. 

I'd googled Avery Dasah and it said his kid was named Charlotte.

But Charlotte was also semi famous because she was the obsession of her mother- who had gotten in a car crash with a concussion and recovery that had driven her literally insane. Linn Mavis. Former talented figure skater- And she'd divorced Charlotte's dad a few months before her... Twist. Charlotte's Dad was now really protective because of her unstable mother. 

Google is really resourceful- Some career pages, random news articles. I do my research.

But anyway. 

 Jackson, in some of his former glory, was home for a day. It was a week after his surgery. We were all sitting in the living room, my Dad showing his face for the first time since telling me I had to be Jackson- All worried about his favorite son. 

I guess he figured you can pretend silver is gold if you just change the color a bit.  

"To order?" I mumbled, leaning back on the couch. "What now?" 

I was too cool in that moment to care that my dad's mustache twitched- the telltale sign that he was angry- but I guess Jackson definitely cared. Because he slapped my leg and glared into my eyes. 

His leg was still angled weird- imagine him sitting in a wheelchair, but one leg is sticking straight out and the heel isn't pointing up, but his toes aren't really either. The surgery hadn't been successful. 

"We're talking about how you're stealing my life," he growled. I laughed. 

"I'd rather not have your life, even temporarily. Hockey is dumb." 

Steam came out of his ears. But something had me in a good mood. 

Maybe it was some cute chick, I don't know. And anyway, if it was, who would it even be? 

I had only ever talked to a girl at a summer camp I'd gone to when I was ten, but I'd still believed in cooties then, so it wasn't a nervous bumble. 

Dad shot me a glance, but started talking to Jackson about how I was going to show him homeschool- he'd heard it before at the hospital, I was sure, because Jackson looked bored out of his mind. 

- A/N: 'm on vacation until the 28th so I'm updating slowly, using my phone- this chapter isn't done though! And any Percy Jackson fans that have read Heroes of Olympus? James remind you of anyone? Hah when you guess just know I didn't mean to make James so much like the character we all know I'm taking about but here we are ❤️ -SilverTree27

Continued:

Jackson turned to my Dad. "If you feel the need to clarificate that one more time I'm just going to go to school in the wheelchair."

I let out a sharp laugh- "Clarificate?"

Mom shook her head. "It's a word. And James, you're going to start school a little earlier than we thought. Clearly you're fine."

Id fallen down the stairs, and that couldn't be good with a bruise already, but that wouldn't change my parents minds. I doubted my Dad even knew. 

"Do I have a schedule yet?" I grumbled, and my Mom nodded. 

"Mr. Keys isn't one of your teachers like we'd hoped. He's wonderful." 

"What does he teach?" I asked, mildly interested- Dad grunted and stood up and wheeled Jackson out of the room as my mom explained that he taught history and two other electives. But my teacher would be 'Sir Adfiel,' pronounced like advil but with an f instead of a v. Apparently he taught the elective Jackson had so kindly chosen for me.

Don't ask about the 'Sir.' Mom had looked a little scared when she'd said his name, so maybe that was it. 

Then she picked a folded piece of paper off the coffee table between us and handed it to me. After deciding it was a complicated mess of a chart, I flipped it over and rewrote it on the back. 

Advisory: Mrs. Bee. Rm. 210.

1st period: Mr. Dan- 9th grade Math. Rm. 121

2nd period: Mrs. Eckell- Biology. Rm. 417

3rd period: Mrs. Wenkel- Creative writing. Rm. 105- Elective.

4th period: Lunch.

5th period: Elective.

6th period: Elective.

7th period: Coach Caddin- Specialized sports. South field- Elective.

8th period: Undetermined. 

This place didn't do the A and B days I knew some high schools did; the snobs. Whatever. 

No points for guessing which specialized sport "Jackson" was signed up for. Apparently practice was during school. Tryouts were soon. And no shocker that all the classes were basic 9th grade ones- No honors or advanced classes for Jackson, not even a challenging electie, which would make things easy for me. But I might get bored. 

Room numbers always have the first number meaning the floor, and the rest how many there are on that floor. It didn't surprise me that one of the rooms started with a 4. 

But the zero kind of scared me. Basement?

And then there was the undetermined class. Maybe I could get an advanced class to give Jackson a hard time when he got back. Id just have to talk to the office and maybe sign something and be all set- They'd let me do a tenth grade class or two if I showed the teachers what I could do. Then my parents wouldn't be able to disguise their money hungry personalities unless they let me do them. 

"Yes!" I whispered, grinning. Mom had already left. I folded the paper and shoved it in my pocket. 

"Oh! Wait, mom, how much earlier am I starting school?"

She peeked her head out of the kitchen. "One day earlier."

I did the math in my head- Then nearly tripped on Rat. (My hamster. Escaped from her cage again.)

I was starting school tomorrow.