Status: Rewriting the whole thing, because I hated it. Hope you don't mind!
Anthem
9
Tara’s head shot up off her arms. She looked around the room. It was empty, save for her and Mr. Nygma. He was gently shaking her shoulder.
She jumped, not expecting him to be that close to her. She rubbed her eyes groggily. “Sorry I fell asleep, I didn’t mean to.”
He merely laughed and took a few steps away from her to his desk. He sat down and put his feet up. Tara was about to tell him that Mr. Belmir wouldn’t appreciate him sitting at his desk like that, but then she remembered that it didn’t really matter what Mr. Belmir would or would not approve of, considering he no longer taught at Gotham Senior High.
Tara yawned, stretching. “What time is it?” she asked groggily.
“About three thirty.”
“What? I need to get home! Harley’s gonna be so worried,” Tara said, immediately standing up and grabbing her backpack and her purse, turning towards the door. On her way, she tripped over a chair some other student hadn’t pushed under their desk, tripping and spilling the contents of her purse all over the floor.
She swore quietly, bending down and picking up her stuff. There was the sound of a chair being moved, and suddenly there was another set of hands helping her pile stuff into her purse. She thanked him quietly, and once they were finished, they both stood up. For the first time, Tara realized how much taller than her he was. She had thought him to only be about six inches taller than she was, but it was closer to a foot.
“Want a ride home? Where do you live?” he asked.
“I live in the Narrows, but you don’t have to. I don’t want to inconvenience you,” she said, trying to object.
“It’s no trouble. I live in the Narrows, too,” he replied, smiling.
Tara bit her lip. Something about having a teacher drive her home sent up a red flag. “Are you sure you’re allowed to do that?”
He laughed, then stopped to think about it. “Of course not,” he paused again, “Well, we just won’t tell anyone, now will we?”
Tara laughed. The thought of any kind of rule-breaking, no matter how mild, was exciting to her. Harley only had a few rules, and those were for Tara’s safety, so she never wanted to break those. But silly rules imposed by the school board? Those meant nothing to her, and she had no qualms about disobeying them. “Sure,” she said, shrugging, “Why not?”
She followed him downstairs, out the door, through another one of the school buildings, and out to the faculty parking lot. He unlocked the door to his car, an old, tan Honda Civic, before reaching over and unlocking the passenger side door for her, too.
“Power lock’s broken,” he mumbled, and she thought he sounded embarrassed.
Tara just smiled and threw her backpack in the back seat before daintily sitting down. She told him her address and he peeled out of the parking lot, driving too fast down the road. Tara didn’t mind. She looked around his car. He had an air freshener hanging from his rearview mirror in the shape of a pink palm tree. His seats were grey, and in fairly good condition, with minimal stains. Facing the street ahead, she looked at him out of the corner of her eye. He was bent over the steering wheel, and he was chewing on his lip. The sight of him all hunched over like that reminded her of a grandmother; she had to suppress a laugh. He pulled up to her building in no time, and she got out of the car quickly, thanking him before running up the stairs to her apartment.
On her way there, her nosy neighbor, Mrs. Wilkinson, stopped her. “Who was that dropping you off?” she asked in her typical nosy fashion.
None of your business, that’s who. “Oh, it was nobody.”
“Sure that nobody isn’t your boyfriend?” Mrs. Wilkinson asked, prodding Tara in the side with her wrinkly elbow. Her breath smelled like fish. Tara’s nose wrinkled. Fish and onions. Please just get back in your room and talk to your cats.
“Positive,” Tara said with a huge, fake smile, edging around the old lady to get to her door. She absolutely hated the old broad. She liked to pretend she knew more about everything than everyone else, but the simple truth was that she didn’t. She hoped Harley wouldn’t notice she was late.
“Harley, I’m home!” she called, tossing her bag down on the table by the door before putting her keys back in her small purse. She didn’t know why Harley bothered to lock the door at all, it wasn’t like it wouldn’t just open if you gave it a little shove anyway.
Only silence greeted her. Tara edged around the counter between the main room and the kitchen, wanting to peer down the hall towards Harley’s room to make sure she wasn’t just taking an afternoon nap before she got worried. On the table was a note for her. She immediately recognized Harley’s childish, flowery script.
Tara honey,
Tara chuckled. Leave it to Harley to start off a note in such an endearing fashion.
My interview’s today at four, so I’m not going to be back for a while. I’m so sorry I can’t be here when you come home, but you know how the trains here are. And the Asylum is all the way outside the city. Anyway, if I’m not back by six, I put a casserole in the refrigerator for us, so you can heat it up. Just leave it out when you’re done, and I’ll put it up when I get back.
Tara quickly pulled out her cell phone and checked the time. 3:57. She made a face and put her phone back in her pocket. She was going to ask if she could go to Andrea’s house, since she lived just on the other side of GSHS, right across the bridge that connected the Narrows to the rest of Gotham City. But since Harley was already probably in her interview, that wouldn’t work out. It just wasn’t safe to go that far away without telling anyone.
Tara sighed grumpily and sat down on the couch. She turned on the television, hoping to watch some Jeopardy! before Harley came home. The speakers turned on before the picture did, and Tara tapped the remote impatiently against the arm of the tacky blue couch, hitting each one of the hundreds of small flowers in turn. When the picture finally did come on, Tara was confused.
There was fire, lots of it. The firefighters were doing their best to put it out, but it looked like they would be going at it for a long time. Tara tried harder to focus, and the screen flashed to a news anchor.
“This is Mike Engel with a special report. Tragedy struck today as the madman known as the Joker blew up the Old Downtown train station, killing seven and injuring fourteen others including GCN’s own Lydia Cross. The fire department has been working to put out the blazes caused by the explosion. There is no official word yet on the whereabouts of the Joker, but sources tell us he was apprehended by Batman and is now en route to Arkham Asylum. More at seven. Back to you, Ted.”
Tara blinked a few times, allowing the news to sink in. Old Downtown. That was the station Harley had to use to get to the Asylum.
Tara pulled her phone out again, and dialed Harley’s number with shaking hands, nearly dropping her phone in the process. It didn't even ring.
Hey, this is Harley’s phone. I’m not available right now, so please leave a message and I’ll get back to you.
Oh, God.
She jumped, not expecting him to be that close to her. She rubbed her eyes groggily. “Sorry I fell asleep, I didn’t mean to.”
He merely laughed and took a few steps away from her to his desk. He sat down and put his feet up. Tara was about to tell him that Mr. Belmir wouldn’t appreciate him sitting at his desk like that, but then she remembered that it didn’t really matter what Mr. Belmir would or would not approve of, considering he no longer taught at Gotham Senior High.
Tara yawned, stretching. “What time is it?” she asked groggily.
“About three thirty.”
“What? I need to get home! Harley’s gonna be so worried,” Tara said, immediately standing up and grabbing her backpack and her purse, turning towards the door. On her way, she tripped over a chair some other student hadn’t pushed under their desk, tripping and spilling the contents of her purse all over the floor.
She swore quietly, bending down and picking up her stuff. There was the sound of a chair being moved, and suddenly there was another set of hands helping her pile stuff into her purse. She thanked him quietly, and once they were finished, they both stood up. For the first time, Tara realized how much taller than her he was. She had thought him to only be about six inches taller than she was, but it was closer to a foot.
“Want a ride home? Where do you live?” he asked.
“I live in the Narrows, but you don’t have to. I don’t want to inconvenience you,” she said, trying to object.
“It’s no trouble. I live in the Narrows, too,” he replied, smiling.
Tara bit her lip. Something about having a teacher drive her home sent up a red flag. “Are you sure you’re allowed to do that?”
He laughed, then stopped to think about it. “Of course not,” he paused again, “Well, we just won’t tell anyone, now will we?”
Tara laughed. The thought of any kind of rule-breaking, no matter how mild, was exciting to her. Harley only had a few rules, and those were for Tara’s safety, so she never wanted to break those. But silly rules imposed by the school board? Those meant nothing to her, and she had no qualms about disobeying them. “Sure,” she said, shrugging, “Why not?”
She followed him downstairs, out the door, through another one of the school buildings, and out to the faculty parking lot. He unlocked the door to his car, an old, tan Honda Civic, before reaching over and unlocking the passenger side door for her, too.
“Power lock’s broken,” he mumbled, and she thought he sounded embarrassed.
Tara just smiled and threw her backpack in the back seat before daintily sitting down. She told him her address and he peeled out of the parking lot, driving too fast down the road. Tara didn’t mind. She looked around his car. He had an air freshener hanging from his rearview mirror in the shape of a pink palm tree. His seats were grey, and in fairly good condition, with minimal stains. Facing the street ahead, she looked at him out of the corner of her eye. He was bent over the steering wheel, and he was chewing on his lip. The sight of him all hunched over like that reminded her of a grandmother; she had to suppress a laugh. He pulled up to her building in no time, and she got out of the car quickly, thanking him before running up the stairs to her apartment.
On her way there, her nosy neighbor, Mrs. Wilkinson, stopped her. “Who was that dropping you off?” she asked in her typical nosy fashion.
None of your business, that’s who. “Oh, it was nobody.”
“Sure that nobody isn’t your boyfriend?” Mrs. Wilkinson asked, prodding Tara in the side with her wrinkly elbow. Her breath smelled like fish. Tara’s nose wrinkled. Fish and onions. Please just get back in your room and talk to your cats.
“Positive,” Tara said with a huge, fake smile, edging around the old lady to get to her door. She absolutely hated the old broad. She liked to pretend she knew more about everything than everyone else, but the simple truth was that she didn’t. She hoped Harley wouldn’t notice she was late.
“Harley, I’m home!” she called, tossing her bag down on the table by the door before putting her keys back in her small purse. She didn’t know why Harley bothered to lock the door at all, it wasn’t like it wouldn’t just open if you gave it a little shove anyway.
Only silence greeted her. Tara edged around the counter between the main room and the kitchen, wanting to peer down the hall towards Harley’s room to make sure she wasn’t just taking an afternoon nap before she got worried. On the table was a note for her. She immediately recognized Harley’s childish, flowery script.
Tara honey,
Tara chuckled. Leave it to Harley to start off a note in such an endearing fashion.
My interview’s today at four, so I’m not going to be back for a while. I’m so sorry I can’t be here when you come home, but you know how the trains here are. And the Asylum is all the way outside the city. Anyway, if I’m not back by six, I put a casserole in the refrigerator for us, so you can heat it up. Just leave it out when you’re done, and I’ll put it up when I get back.
Tara quickly pulled out her cell phone and checked the time. 3:57. She made a face and put her phone back in her pocket. She was going to ask if she could go to Andrea’s house, since she lived just on the other side of GSHS, right across the bridge that connected the Narrows to the rest of Gotham City. But since Harley was already probably in her interview, that wouldn’t work out. It just wasn’t safe to go that far away without telling anyone.
Tara sighed grumpily and sat down on the couch. She turned on the television, hoping to watch some Jeopardy! before Harley came home. The speakers turned on before the picture did, and Tara tapped the remote impatiently against the arm of the tacky blue couch, hitting each one of the hundreds of small flowers in turn. When the picture finally did come on, Tara was confused.
There was fire, lots of it. The firefighters were doing their best to put it out, but it looked like they would be going at it for a long time. Tara tried harder to focus, and the screen flashed to a news anchor.
“This is Mike Engel with a special report. Tragedy struck today as the madman known as the Joker blew up the Old Downtown train station, killing seven and injuring fourteen others including GCN’s own Lydia Cross. The fire department has been working to put out the blazes caused by the explosion. There is no official word yet on the whereabouts of the Joker, but sources tell us he was apprehended by Batman and is now en route to Arkham Asylum. More at seven. Back to you, Ted.”
Tara blinked a few times, allowing the news to sink in. Old Downtown. That was the station Harley had to use to get to the Asylum.
Tara pulled her phone out again, and dialed Harley’s number with shaking hands, nearly dropping her phone in the process. It didn't even ring.
Hey, this is Harley’s phone. I’m not available right now, so please leave a message and I’ll get back to you.
Oh, God.