Lucas Ryan Versus: The Hive (The Lucas Ryan Versus Series) (2 page)

LEVEL 02:
You Learn

Desert Vista High School - Phoenix, Arizona

My eyes strained from the bright lights lined down the ceiling of the school hallway. It was just another average morning. Kids pushing past me. Teachers inhaling their third cup of coffee. I wasn’t fully awake yet. I hadn’t slept very well the night before, and I had the dark circles around my eyes to prove it. I wiped at the crud in their corners with a short sigh. Underachievement is a powerful insomniac. I stretched the bones in my spine from under my snug backpack and smiled as each one popped with relief.

“Oh my God, Lucas! Where did you go last night?”

“Ro, what’s up, bro?” I smiled even bigger, and smacked my friend on the shoulder. Roland Saint had been my best friend since kindergarden. I can still remember our epic first day of school. I was in one corner of the classroom, crying at the top of my lungs for my mom to pick me up. Roland in the opposite corner crying because I had the same Star Wars T-shirt on. He had thought I’d taken his even though he was wearing it. It took the teacher half the day to calm us both down. Roland and I were overly dramatic back then.

“What’s up? What’s up! That’s all you have to say? We’ve spent six months preparing for last nights battle. Six months!” Roland’s voice cracked. I laughed at his unneeded stress. His skinny face crinkled in worry. I guess we were still a tad bit dramatic. He folded his arms waiting on my response. His big worried eyes, watching me hard. He was a good person. The best friend a guy could have. He would follow me to the ends of the Earth if I asked him to. Those traits made him a valued gamer and better teammate.

We had started a gaming club, a cyber clan. Computer adventures and video games, that was our obsession. Anything with a bright flickering screen and colorful buttons, we play it. Team Doom was our name. I was its humble leader and Roland was its second in command.

“Where’d you go, Luc?” he asked, again. “I was on my way into the castle with a fresh bag of healing potions and you just vanished.” I knew he’d be mad about my sudden exit last night, but he was overreacting now. The pain of being a gamer.

“I had a bigger challenge arise...my mom,” I said, with a wink. Roland’s worried glare softened.

“Your mom? Again?” he asked, calming down slightly. He adjusted his overstuffed backpack as a similar shadow joined us.

“Still scared of Mommy Dearest, huh?” the shadow’s voice teased, sweetly.

“Hey, Mo,” I smiled.

Morgan Saint, Roland’s identical twin sister and fellow game athlete. She looked exactly like her brother on the outside, but she was completely the opposite of him on the inside. She punched him in his right shoulder with a smirk. He lowered his brow in a threatening manner, but she only laughed at him.

“Ouch! Damn it, Morgan!” he snapped, a little too eager.

“Awwww...sorry little brother.” She giggled at her own joke. She seemed to enjoy it more than he did. She winked at me, knowing she couldn’t help herself.

“That’s going to bruise,” Roland continued. I laughed out loud. He mumbled something as his big sister turned our duo into a trio. She was the oldest twin. Born a whole three minutes before him, and she never let him forget it. That’s how they rolled though. She pushed his buttons, and he let her. They were as close as any brother and sister could be, but they always enjoyed when the other suffered in the least. They were so much fun to watch.

“Quit being a wimp, baby brother!” Morgan prodded again, trying not to laugh at him. I just shook my head with a crooked smile and reached out my hand towards Morgan.

“Here, you big bully,” I teased, and slid into her fingers her favorite handheld gaming device. It was black with silver trim, and had an old
Hello Kitty
sticker stuck to its backside. It had accidentally been dropped in the toilet two days before. By accident, I meant Roland threw it in there during a rather extreme argument. As with everything else in their copycat lives, gaming was a playful pastime, and she was winning that particular competition.

“Yay! You did it! You fixed it!” she cheered. Her skinny fingers clicked the power button to the on position. Magically, her big brown eyes lit up.

“No problem, Mo,” I said, with a crooked grin.

“You’re an absolute technical wizard, Luc! Thanks!”

I would have returned her gratitude, but something pulled my attention from our small clique. My eyes focused hard as my feet pushed me forward without even thinking. This tractor beam was activated by a piece of paper taped to the lockers across from me. It was bright red, with black writing and found its way into my hand, quickly. Once I started reading it, I could focus on nothing else.

“Oh no, he’s seen it,” Roland huffed, with a worried smile.

“Leave him alone. You know he can’t help himself,” Morgan giggled, lightly. She flipped her long hair around her shoulder, then concentrated on the tiny flashing images on her game device. I ignored both of them in a happy daze. The morning bell rang with the unmistakable shriek that we had come to know and hate. I tried to ignore it too, but couldn’t. Students scattered everywhere, marching like sleepy zombies to their first period classes. I was still paralyzed in my own little world as the hallways emptied.

“See ya in second period, Lucas,” Morgan smiled, and strolled off to her class. Her stare still locked on her game.

“Lucas, we’re going to be late,” Roland said. He nervously checked the time on his cell phone and tapped his foot. Stubbornly, he gave in and followed his sister.

“Later, Luc,” he called, over his shoulder. I only managed a small wave, never looking up from my prized possession. Frozen by my silly fear. Frozen by my infatuation. Frozen by
her
handwriting. I was sixty-seconds away from starting the day off with a tardy notice, but I didn’t care. I probably would have spent those precious seconds in my peaceful bliss, if I hadn’t been interrupted.

“Stalk much, Lucas?”

“Ugh...” That voice. I really didn’t want to start my day like this. Felicity Campbell. Five feet and four inches of pure evil. My archrival. My nemesis. My personal Fed Ex of misery. Guaranteed to deliver the pain and heartache, come rain or shine.

“Please move! You’re going to make us both late drooling over that stupid flier!” she not so politely stated.

“So.”

“So? No wonder you’re failing Algebra class...
loser!
” she cursed.

“Evilicity!” I declared.

“Don’t call me that!” she snapped. Her thin pink lips pulled together in a tight pucker. I stared at her for a moment, trying to ignore her smug face. I concentrated on the scoop of dirty blonde curls that adorned the top of her head. That only made her more agitated. She stepped into me with a shove.

“Move!” she scolded.

“Easy, Evil...I mean, Felicity.” I quickly folded the piece of paper and shoved it into my back pocket. She kicked my backpack that I had leaned against my leg, and stormed past me.

“If I’m late because of you, you’ll be so sorry,” she warned over her shoulder, as she stomped down the hall.

“Smell ya later!” I called to her. She quickly turned and stuck her middle finger in the air with a snarky smile. I grabbed my bag and followed behind her swiftly. Lucky me. I shared first period Algebra with her.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Lunch break at school was business time for me and business had been good lately. Growing up in the
Digital Age
has been a blessing. Someone with my many technical talents, has made me quite popular with the gadget addicted world we live in. Computers, laptops, cell phones, music players and video games were my specialty. If it has a microchip or a motherboard, it was my friend. It just always came natural to me. I wish that applied to people too.

“I sped up that old processor for you, added a little RAM. Your computer should fly now...no more hang-ups, guaranteed.” I was bragging. I slipped the newly refreshed laptop from my bag to the arms of its owner, and he handed me a twenty dollar bill. Another satisfied customer.

“Thanks, Lucas.”

“Anytime,” I proudly smiled, clutching my crisp bill. I usually only worked for tips, whatever the customer could afford, but with my sixteenth birthday on the horizon, my priorities had changed lately. My mode of transportation was in dire need of an upgrade, and by upgrade, I meant; I didn’t have one. No car, no freedom.

One of my neighbors had an old ‘68 Camaro for sale, and it was calling my name. Dark blue, with matching black racing stripes running along its hood. I pictured myself driving down the road with Roland and Morgan, their arms stuck out the windows, surfing the air currents. The music blasting from the stereo speakers, serenading us on our road-trip to freedom. The daydream brought a wide, goofy smile to my face. If only the moment would have lasted. From behind me came a shuffling of bodies and three hulking shadows.

“I’ll take that,” the largest of three boys snapped. He snatched up my twenty dollar bill so fast that I had to check my fingers for paper cuts.

“Come on, Donnie. That’s my money,” I tried to say. He gently but forcibly placed his free hand on my chest. I took a deep breath.

“No, it’s mine.”

“I don’t understand...” I stuttered.

“I thought we had a deal. You fix my phone, I pay you money,” Donnie spoke, slowly.

“Exactly,” I agreed, feeling an uncomfortable rolling in my stomach.

“Well, ever since I got my phone back, I haven’t been able to send a text message.” His voice filled with strength. I filled with a quiet anger.

“You try pushing the send button?” I said, dryly.

He leaned into me. “Is that supposed to be a joke?” He wasn’t laughing. His two friends tightened their stances on both sides of him. Uh oh, here we go.

“Lighten up, Donnie...” I started to say, when he reached out and shoved me. My balance disappeared and I crashed to the ground.

“Are you implying that I am too dumb to work my own phone?” He stepped over me and my heart started to race. I’ve always hated physical confrontations. I’m not sure why I pushed him even more.

“It’s just a phone...I thought any monkey could work it. I guess I sit, corrected.” It just came out. I filled with an instant and irritating regret. He reached down and yanked me by my collar, hard enough to bring me to my feet again. His face twisted in anger.

“Gimme your phone!” he demanded. I gasped in surprise. He twisted my collar with more force. My nerves flared up, but I fought them with my stupidity.

“Why should I give you my phone? It’s much more complicated than yours...too many pretty flashing lights for you. Ha! You’d never find the send button on it.” It was crazy for me to be saying such things, but I couldn’t help it. My day started out bad...why not add to my misery.

“You’re dead,” he promised. He pressed his face directly in front of mine. His breath wreaked of the ham sandwich he must have just finished eating.

I smiled big. “Whatever. Let’s get this over with. I’ve got customers waiting.”

He pulled his arm back and tightened his fingers into a ball. His knuckles popped as his hand became a fist. I closed my eyes and waited for the black eye.

“Let him go,” a voice called out from behind the three goons. The sun seemed to disappear as a massive shadow fell over all of us. Donnie tried to throw his fist into my cringing face, but the mysterious savior grabbed his arm before he could. In the same motion, he was pulled to his feet in a quick jerk.

“I said let him go!”

Finally realizing who it was, my three unsatisfied customers came to their senses. Donnie let go of my shirt and stood up slowly. He joined his two scared colleagues with a soft whimper.

“Country...I...I’m sorry,” Donnie stuttered. “I was just trying to scare him.”

“Yeah, Big Country...we didn’t mean anything by it,” one of the other boys pleaded.

The third boy jammed his elbow into his friends side, warning him. “Shut-up man, you know he hates that name!”

“Don’t call me Country,” the savior, warned. He spoke gently with no real anger in his voice.

“Sorry, Country...uh...I mean, Tay,” Donnie choked on his real name.

“Taylor,” my savior corrected, under his breath. He quickly let go of Donnie and let the trio off the hook. “Give Lucas his money back and get out of here,” Taylor warned, with ease. Donnie shot me a dirty look and tossed my twenty dollar bill to the ground. He quickly walked away, never making eye contact with Taylor again. His two friends followed his lead, with their heads down.

“Good luck in the big game this weekend, Country...” one of them mumbled as he scurried away. Taylor’s brow fell sad at the mention of his nickname. I looked up at my sulking hero and laughed with relief.

“Thanks, T.”

“You okay?” Taylor asked, concerned.

“I am now,” I joked.

“It wouldn’t be a normal day in the valley if I wasn’t saving you and your big mouth from somebody,” he teased, and offered one of his giant hands to help me up.

“My hero,” I nodded, with a smile. He smacked me on the center of my back lightly, and handed me my precious backpack. It knocked the wind from my chest a little. Sometimes I wasn’t sure if Taylor knew just how strong he really was.

Our schools star athlete, professional football player in waiting, and shy ladies man, was a rare specimen. Six foot three, 225 pounds of pure, tone muscle. Golden blonde hair, deep blue eyes and the skin of a bronzed god. He was a real life superhero. That’s why I called him T. That was short for Thor, the God of Thunder. Put a giant hammer in his hand, and he would look as if he just walked out of the pages of a comic book. My hero. My other best friend.

Everyone else called him Big Country, which he hated. I couldn’t blame him though, I’d have a problem too if I shared the same name as one of the biggest country stars in the world...Taylor Swift.

“Mr. Ryan, I hope you and Mr. Swift were not starting trouble again,” Mr. Parker asked. Our schools guidance counselor and self appointed hall monitor. He looked at us from behind a huge pair of glasses that always sat at the end of his nose. I swear if the wind blew hard enough, they would slip right off his face.