Red Skies | The Prime Archives #1 ✓

twenty-one

Oscar currently wanted to die. The reason? The piece of a paper sitting in front of him. It was decorated with complex questions ranging from ''what to do when your team mate falls in battle'' to ''which vein should you target when trying to stealthily knock someone unconscious''. Of course, he knew the answers to none of those questions.

Well, he would've if he bothered to read the textbooks given to him.

''This blows, man.'' He'd never been particularly good in school. If he was being honest, he wasn't good at all. It was a miracle he even made it to senior year. He shuddered just thinking about it. High school was a nightmare. His favorite class consistently turned out to be lunch period. It was the only refuge he had from pop quizzes and angry teachers.

He looked up from his desk and glanced at his friends. They all scribbled away on their tests, their pencils creating an unpleasant symphony that only served to remind him of his inadequacies.

A couple of days passed since Emily's weird moment with Director Shaw. Everyone seemingly moved passed it, including himself. Sure, the guy lied. It wasn't like it mattered, though; not to him. He was willing to give Shaw the benefit of the doubt. It was the least he could do.

Since then, they'd been subjected to classes on top of their training to become official Atlas agents. At first, Oscar thought it would be pretty cool. He'd learn a few useful skills, ace a few easy tests. That wasn't the case. Not in the slightest. After being subject to an exam on the meanings of certain military hand signals, he realized he wouldn't be able to coast through the classes like he did back at River Hill.

In other words, he could no longer be lazy.

As he continued glaring at his paper, Stella got out of her seat and walked over to where he was sitting. She frowned at him, most likely seeing he'd only written his name on the test.

''Oscar, you haven't even answered the first question,'' Stella chastised. She placed her hands on her hips. ''It's not that hard. You're not even trying.'' He blew air out of nose at the sight. She reminded him of his mother whenever she got mad at him for forgetting to do the dishes.

His expression soured at the thought of her. Just when he thought his mood couldn't get even worse, it did.

''Everyone's not a genius like you, Ms. Know-It-All,'' he retorted.

Theo laughed from across the room. In a flash, the boy was now standing on the other side of Oscar's table. His test fluttered at the arrival of the speedster. ''Jeez, dude. I'm pretty dumb and even I get this stuff...for the most part at least. I still can't tell the difference between the jugular and the superior vena cava veins....''

''He's right,'' Stella said. ''All you have to do is read the books they give us.''

''That's the point,'' Oscar whined. ''I have to read. I don't like doing that.''

Stella was unimpressed. ''If we want to get better at being agents, we have to do this.''

Oscar folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair. ''I'd say we're plenty good now. Who says we need to get better.''

Chase turned around in his seat and frowned at him. ''Hey, get rid of the attitude. If we're going to save the world, we've got to keep progressing. You don't think Kismet is training to kill us right this instant? We've got to get better.''

''But can't we fight them without doing all of this stuff?'' Oscar pursed his lips. He was fighting a pointless battle at this point. No one was coming to his aid, not even Andre, who was usually reliable in these situations. The big man stayed silent in order to complete his test.