Detention League

Chapter 2: Knight and Day

Bruce Wayne glanced around the room. After Mr. Kane had left, the brown haired boy had moved up a couple seats to sit behind the blond one. He was wearing an aviator jacket, a little too big for him, and it looked worn in and old. The lapel read "Jordan".

Bruce blinked. Hal Jordan was famous for being the playboy of the junior class, and he put on a good show. But as Bruce studied him, he noticed, more obviously than anyone else could, that it was a facade. And even though Bruce had only transferred to the school a couple weeks earlier, Hal acted more sincere around the blond boy than anyone else.

The orphaned boy smiled to himself and twiddled his thumbs. Reading public school students was slightly more challenging than those at his private school. It wasn't problems with daddy's lawyer, as much as trying to make ends meet. These people were real.

So Bruce, addict to his little game and with time to kill, continued to play.

There was a boy in the very back corner, with dirty blond hair that waved out in messy locks. He sat slouched in his chair, dozing off as Bruce studied him.

6 foot, athletically built, the pink tint on his cheeks, just under his eyes and on the tip of his nose, obvious that he spent a lot of time in the pool. He had broad shoulders and shapely calves, pointing more in the direction of competitive swimmer. Despite being, Bruce estimated, 17 years old, the boy was already growing impressive stubble.

In the middle of the room sat two more students, a boy and a girl. The girl, was tall and toned well beyond most girls at the school. Her hair was dark and wavy, small strands falling in her face. However, they did not seem to obstruct her vision of the book she was reading. The book's spine was cracked, implying that it had been read many times and the pages were creased and folded as makeshift bookmarks. Her dark eyes moved very fast as she skimmed her book, pausing momentarily to sip some water. Her eyes met Bruce's and he looked away. They had been piercing. A dark, deep blue that almost faded to a black. Her eyes seemed older than her body, older than time.

Bruce shook his head, and when he looked back, her eyes had returned to their book.

The boy beside her was also strange. He sat rigid in his seat, dressed in a full suit and tie. Bruce looked down, noticing his attire was very similar, minus the tie. The boy's hands lay clasped on his desk and he was staring unblinkingly at the wall clock opposite him. He was not moving. Bruce swore, if only for a second, that he wasn't even breathing. He was a complete statue. Bruce remembered he was an exchange student. He couldn't remember from where, but he did know, being as still as he was, it must have been somewhere where the punishment was very strict.

Bruce moved on toward the front of the room. The blonde boy sat in the second row, and Hal Jordan sat behind him. He wore a worn red sweater, with a white collar popping out from underneath. His pants were chaffed and worn on the inner knees and thighs, implying they were worn during... running? Bruce glanced at his shoes. They were mustard yellow high tops, one shoelace undone and both shoes looking terribly worn and dingy. His theory was confirmed, the shoes were so distraught, they had to have been used for running. But why run in jeans and tennis shoes? And if he wan't running for sport, then what was he running from?

Bruce's dark eyes flicked to the last boy in the room. Sitting a couple desks away from him, a tall, athletic looking boy sat in the front row. He sat relaxed, with his hands folded on his desk and gazing out the window. He wore a plain blue T-shirt with a red flannel on top. His jeans were worn and dirty at the bottom, where worn in boots were. As much as a presence he had, he appeared non threatening.

Clark Kent. The name ran through his memory. He was raised in Smallsville before moving here. It explained his sturdy body and work shoes. But it didn't explain something Bruce couldn't quite put his finger on... Something that nagged at him... Something that kept screaming "abnormality, abnormality!" In fact, something was very wrong with everyone in the room with him...

Bruce focused on Clark again to notice one thing he hadn't initially.

Clark's glasses, that he adjusted and squinted through, were non prescription.

---

"Alright brats. Looks like we've got another three weeks together. So, anyone I don't see will get another after school detention. Are we clear?" The room was silent, but everyone nodded.

"Good. Now, scram."

The group of students quickly gathered their books, and one by one, disappeared into the hall.

Bruce was last, following Clark. He fell several feet behind, his steps perfectly in sync with Clark's, in an effort not to alert his ears.

But Clark walked on as if nothing was wrong. It wasn't until they were in the parking lot, approaching what Bruce assumed was Clark's bike when he spoke.

"Why are you following me?"

Bruce's eyes narrowed but he put on an embarrassed face as Clark looked at him.

"Sorry! I'm... Actually lost... I didn't know how to ask, but where is the library?"

Clark blinked, looking Bruce up and down.

"The library's closed..."

"Now it is. I'm going tomorrow morning."

Clark smiled, but it was forced.

"Its next to the H hall. Big building with pillars and a double door entrance." Bruce grinned back, rubbing his neck.

"Thanks! Sorry I creeped you out..." Clark shrugged.

"No problem. See you tomorrow afternoon I guess." Bruce nodded, turning and walking toward the bus loop where Alfred sat waiting.

Strange. Bruce thought to himself. He shouldn't have been able to tell I was behind him...