Chapter Text
It was an achingly beautiful spring morning, and Karen Page, Chief Editor of the Midtown High School News, was considering dropping out of school.
Karen had established herself as the greatest writer in Midtown, if not in all of Vermont. Last issue's State Basketball Championship story had been an absolute knockout. Karen perfectly balanced the staggering excitement and pride of the school with the sweet sentiment and mutual respect between the teammates.
Half the school forgot that the team lost. She'd even heard mention of a nomination for a statewide award, which would greatly improve her odds for winning scholarships.
Now that the bar was set high, Karen felt the noose begin to tighten. Only four more publications remained for the year. Each had to be stellar if she had any hope of paying for college.
And sadly, there was absolutely nothing for Karen to write about. Every topic was exhausted, from club events to biographies on new teachers. She could've written about caps and gowns finally coming in, but they had milked the sentimental senior angle all year with "Last Fall Formal" and "Last Taco Tuesday of the Winter" pieces. There just wasn't enough substance left in that category.
She took off her thick-framed glasses and rested her head in her hands a moment. The early morning sun was beating down on her through the window, leaving her warm, frustrated, sleepy.
"Working hard or hardly working, Page?" Mr. Ellison, English teacher and overseer of the newspaper, retreated from his office just to refill his coffee.
"I'm done," Karen answered in defeat, looking up from her hands.
He poured his cup, "Do you not have anything at all?"
"Not enough happens at this school," she grumbled, mashing the keyboard keys.
"You at least have the other content for this issue don't you?" he rubbed his forehead.
"It's all been turned in," she held up the other stories, "Just no headliner."
"You could always go for a fluff piece on the new leaves and flowers outside. Do some bullshit with metaphorical change or something. You'd make some seniors and their parents cry on that one," he recommended dully.
She groaned and looked over at the pictures on the wall of past student editors and settled her eyes on the newest portrait.
Ben Urich was all the way at Oxford now. He only ever flew home for the most important holidays, and even then he only spent time with his girlfriend, Dolores.
Ben passed the torch on to her, and Karen spent every waking moment trying to make him proud. It was at times like these she wished she could talk to him face to face again, not just in a hurried exchange over the phone.
"I need something good, Mr. Ellison," she finally responded to him.
"I need something by tomorrow, so you better start."
Karen spent her morning classes ignoring her lectures on History and Chemistry in favor of scratching new article ideas in her notepad.
"New Locker Rumors: Fact or Fiction?" was too loosely based, and just generally boring.
"Why Are Foggy and Marci Still Together?" was completely inappropriate and unprofessional.
"Does Matt Like Me Or Just Feel Bad For Me?" was too personal and would never be solved.
She was resolved to just go for the springtime piece when she sat down for lunch.
The cafeteria was abuzz with calzones, and the accompanying chorus of "oooohs" and "ahhhhs" that came almost solely from Foggy.
Claire sat next to her, picking at the meal and muttering about all the grease and health concerns.
"Have you seen the new kid?" Marci set her tray down on the table loudly.
"New kid? What's that?" Foggy asked sarcastically.
"He's transferred from out of state."
"How cool, other states," Foggy mocked.
"I bet he's handsome," Marci sighed, looking pointedly at Foggy.
"Why is this kid so interesting to everyone?" Foggy sounded jealous.
"People want to hear about each other, it's exciting."
Karen dropped her pen.
This was it.
"Where is this kid?" Karen asked Marci immediately.
"Wow, you guys, don't be so eager," Foggy laughed nervously.
"No, I need to know, this would be perfect for the paper," Karen frantically closed her notebook and clutched it to her chest.
"He just left my physics class, so you better hurry," Claire answered with a mouth full of food.
"Great," she snatched her pen and ran down the hallway, deftly dodging underclassmen.
One of the main advantages Karen had found to almost being 6 feet tall was the ability to see over everyone's heads. She scanned the faces of everyone she passed and frantically looked for someone new. In a moment of clarity she found him, the only unfamiliar face in the hall.
He met eyes with her and she started to wave frantically. He was tall too, with cropped dark hair and angular features. His expression was tense and decidedly unwelcoming. She ignored this easily.
In a few strides, she was face to face with him, hardly believing her luck.
"Hi," she greeted him, slightly out of breath. "I'm Karen."
"Yeah," he looked her up and down, his expression unchanging. "Hi." He kept walking.
She was caught off guard a little by his coolness. "Today's your first day, right?" she asked, walking next to him.
"Obviously," he answered, keeping his head facing forward.
"I'm the Editor for the school paper, and I thought maybe I could do a welcome piece, just get a little blurb about you," she asked quickly, not stopping to take breaths.
"What?" he squinted at her.
"You're the first new student we've had this year. People are interested," she explained.
"Why are they interested?" he shook his head.
"We don't get many new kids, I mean, this is a tiny school," she laughed lightly, hoping he'd at least crack a smile.
"So they want to gawk at me?" his jaw clenched.
"No, God, that's not what I was trying to do-," she defended herself.
"What were you trying to do then?" he stopped and turned towards her.
"I was just-," she was at a loss for words. She mumbled incoherently.
"Yeah, exactly," he rolled his eyes.
"Wait-," she reached out a little.
"Look," he swung around to face her, "I only have two months of school left. I just want to get in and get out. I don't need to feel 'welcomed'' by anyone." He scowled at her before turning. "Just leave me alone."
"Fine then," she called after him, embarrassment turning to anger and frustration.
He kept walking down the hallway, roughly bumping into the other kids.
She left in defeat, cursing her own lack of social skills.
The headliner would have to be about the daffodils.
Goodbye, scholarships.
Goodbye, the thought of ever leaving Vermont.
She slumped back into her seat at the lunch table.
"How was that?" Claire asked, not looking at Karen directly.
"He's an asshole," she crossed her arms and laid her head on the table. "I'm gonna be stuck here forever."
Claire tried her best to comfort her. "At least you're not pregnant."
"Could you steal me all the student medical records so I can write my article on them?" Karen mumbled.
"Yeah, sure, I don't value my internship at all," she replied sarcastically.
"Uh oh," Foggy coughed.
"What?"
"I think I just got marinara in your hair, Karen."
After blotting sauce out of her hair and almost smacking Foggy in the face, Karen's waking nightmare continued with her least favorite class, Calculus 1 with Mrs. Reyes.
Foggy, sitting right behind her, had to wait for the meat of the lecture before he talked to her.
"Karen, are you still free tonight?" Foggy leaned forward and asked.
"Yeah, 7 o'clock right?" she confirmed.
"Right, I didn't want to say it in front of Claire, but Matt's bringing a 'friend'," he added suggestively.
"What?" Karen felt her stomach drop just a little.
"Karen, turn around please," Mrs. Reyes snapped. "The nerve."
"Sorry," Karen spun around and avoided making eye contact.
Mrs. Reyes droned on with her lecture and shot more than a few dirty looks at Karen. Her stomach was churning up and down.
Usually, she and Matt both played third wheel to Foggy and Marci, but now, she would be the fifth wheel?
"Cars don't even have five wheels," she muttered under her breath. She stewed over her own loneliness and lack of creativity.
"For homework, do exercise 1 on page 346," Mrs. Reyes anticipated the dismissal bell.
Malcolm raised his hand, "Just odds?"
"Normally, Malcolm, I would only assign odd numbered problems. Thanks to someone's lack of restraint," she eyed Karen, "All problems are assigned."
The class collectively shot Karen a dirty look. She wanted to melt into the seat by the time the bell sounded.
Foggy waited for her as she packed her bag extra slowly to avoid classmates. They walked out of the room together and waited for Matt to come out of the English room across the hall.
Students down the hall started yelling and shouting, all crowding around each other.
"FIGHT!" Turk shouted as he ran past them towards the noise.
"Let's see!" Foggy grabbed her wrist and pulled her down the hallway.
Her height was an unwelcome advantage in this situation. She could see every bit of the bloody action.
One kid stood over the other, punching his face over and over. Students and teachers were trying to pull him off, but could barely budge him. Finally, a pair of teachers yanked him off the other student.
A teacher hoisted up the kid who was now unconscious on the floor. Karen could hardly recognize his bloodied face. He was beaten within an inch of his life.
The other one was being pulled away, bloody and screaming. A couple teachers pulled the kid past Foggy and Karen towards the office.
She met eyes with him for a moment.
It was the new student. Her stomach churned.
Karen had a story to write.