God damn it…I forgot to do the Biology homework…, Jet thought, frustrated.

He stared at the blank sheet of paper that was supposed to harbor his essay, assigned three days ago.

A biology essay. One that was due this very day.

God damn it, Jet bemoaned again. He glared at his paper, wishing the words of the essay would just appear. They didn't.

His glare intensified, burning invisible holes into the white sheet.

Next to him, his friend, Brandon muttered out of the corner of his mouth: "She's coming, Jet."

Jet raised his head and directed his scorching gaze at his sadistic friend. Damn sadist! Brandon smirked at him impishly.

"JET."

"Gah!" Jet gave a short yell of alarm as his stern Biology teacher came upon him, yelling his name. He twitched upward, as if to fall out of his chair, and then landed, eyes wide, hyperventilating.

"Homework!" the teacher snapped.

"But," gasped Jet, "I…"

At that moment, Brandon heaved a huge cough—sounding bit like "dumbass!" Jet, in all his sudden fright, shot him a glaring glance before continuing.

"Ms. Kiiiiim…!"

Before he could say anymore, he saw the ever sadistic teacher cast an eyeball downward. He didn't even have to guess what she was looking at.
He wasn't quite ready for the explosion, though he should have been.

"THIRD homework in a ROW!" she bellowed. "You are the worse student in the class! You make me unhappy!" Jet shrank back as she began to rant. "I've decided—you know what?—that you're not NICE! YOU'RE NOT NICE! YOU MAKE ME UNHAPPY AND…!"

There was a thump, and then a huge clattering behind Brandon. It didn't stop, it sounded like falling blocks of wood.

Ms. Kim froze as her eyes automatically reached the source. Jet spun around in alarm, as a prickle sprang up in his body.

The first thing he saw was Brandon's face. The blond boy was obviously trying to suppress a smirk; he caught Jet's green eyes in his own brown ones and he winked.

Dreading a bit, Jet let his gaze travel upwards a bit, behind his sadist of a friend. He gasped.

Books were falling straight out of their shelves. Everyone in the room was staring now. A tennis ball was at the foot of the huge shelf. It had apparently stopped rolling and looked new. It looked as if that ball had bounced straight off the shelf's top. It couldn't have had enough force to knock all those books off, unless…
Jet shot his gaze back at Brandon, who mouthed, "Edward."

Of course.

Edward was Brandon's twin brother. At school, the latter was sometimes addressed as "the better twin". Edward didn't seem to mind.

At the moment, numbing relief spread through Jet's body, to not have to hear his teacher rage. In the next, he worried for Edward.

Hopefully, Edward wouldn't get caught, but he was on the school's tennis team, the only member in the room at the moment. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together.

Edward's always getting in trouble, Jet reminded himself—but if he had happened to throw that ball on his behalf… The thought weighed heavily on his conscience.
Though, it wasn't unusual. Jet would sometimes get in trouble with a sadistic teacher, and one of his friends would cause something to save him from punishment. Sometimes, it was vice versa.

Some people wondered why the hell he was in such an advanced course as Biology.

It would save him, though, from the embarrassment of being compared to his older sister, in the third year. And it would make him bemoan again and again about how he had to endure three more years of school until it was done completely, and he'd be off to college—one that brilliant Alexis never did, and never will, attend.

He didn't hate Alexis: he felt bitter sometimes about how he would be compared to his sister.

Compared to her, he was the one who would slack off from work sometimes, cause trouble at school sometimes, and did something the teachers didn't approve of sometimes.

After school, he reminded himself that he would speed through his homework, then resort to the computer and nearby public tennis courts with his friends. The next day, he would suffer his teachers' rage again, only for him to leave a sign taped on their desks in return. They usually bore the words "ass" or "on high". Miraculously, he would never get caught.

That was just a normal day in Jet Rocket's school life.

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Alexis Rocket, Age 16, Year 3

That was what it said on the sheet of paper she handed back to Erin. The latter gave her a quick smile, then said "Thanks," and passed the sheet to the next person.

United States History—also known to some students as USH—was the best class to do this in. Erin was passing around a paper for her classmates to sign.
On the top, the title was written clearly in bold black. "Proposal For A Cheerleading Team," it said.

Not that Alexis or Erin really liked cheerleading, but every school that played against theirs, the Bombs of Uranus High, in their sports—basketball, volleyball, tennis, bowling—had an annoying cheerleading bunch. It seemed unbearably condescending when those annoying girls in their tiny skirts and blouses waved those huge pom-poms and screamed boastful declarations about their school teams.

It wasn't as if the Bombs didn't cheer—they did, but Erin had stated that "if it were a bunch of girls on high, they'd cheer so much louder," hence the proposal.
Wow, Alexis thought dully.

This was the perfect time to pass it around; lunchtime didn't work, for the paper would not go unstained with food, and recess made it hard for anyone to find someone. USH was perfect—lax, soft teacher (Mr. O), quite easy work if one got the point of all those boring history lessons.

One could get away with anything in that wonderful class called USH.

After school, she and her rather large group of friends would linger awhile, then go over to her house, and they would just talk and do rather random things in her room, or the large basement that was cluttered with different objects. They could act a bit like younger children down there.

Alexis had something of a dual personality and was a straight A student, always one of the top students in every class except for a couple.

Yet, she could be tomboyish at times, but definitely a carefree girl.

As she stared out the window, waiting for the teacher to finish writing on the board, she saw a tiny bird hop on the ledge of the roof. It had a forked tail, with dark glossy feathers. It was sleek, and looked to be out of place among the rough stone on the rooftop.

Alexis reveled at the sight of it; it was just so cute.

Then it missed a step and fell off the building.

It didn't seem capable of flying, because Alexis glimpsed it folding its wings, without intention of opening them…as it plunged downwards.