Jimmie and Mike were waiting as Anne and I walked up to the school.

It had become something of a morning routine - we all reached around the same time, so the two of them would wait outside, usually for Lou. Anne and I would catch up.

We’d chat for a few minutes until Lou and Clarice showed up, then head in. The first time, Clarice had surprised me - and Anne - by sashaying into Jimmy's arms. I hadn’t even known they were dating.

This morning, as we walked up, Anne suddenly stiffened.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"Wanda," she whispered.

I followed her gaze. Sure enough, the infamous Wanda Mears was standing on the steps, chatting with a half dozen other girls.

She turned towards Anne and smiled.

It was a pretty nasty smile.

Anne gulped.

I glared at Wanda.

One the girls on the steps noticed, and whispered something in Wanda's ear. Wanda turned her gaze towards me and suddenly realised that she was getting the full force of my most baleful glare.

She went white.

Wanda and her cronies hastily backpedalled, almost running into the school.

Good riddance. They were probably late for class anyway.

The exchange hadn't been lost on Jimmy. "Who was that kid?" he glanced in the direction of the now-departed Wanda.

"Anne's bully," I replied.

Mike's eyebrows went up. Jimmy chuckled. "Some kid tried to bully your sister?"

"I didn't attend school then."

Mike nodded. Jimmy nodded.

"You okay now?" I asked Anne.

Anne looked embarrassed. "I… I'm sorry. She just…."

"Don't sweat it, kid," said Jimmy. "All of us go through stuff. You'll be fine. And if not, you have the beefiest bro in the school looking out for you."

"Beefiest bro?" I made a face. "Seriously?"

"Hey, I tell it like it is. And you need to work on that glare of yours "

"I'm proud of the glare. I practiced it a lot."

"Yeah, it works on little kids. Anyone else, you just look constipated."

A sage nod from Mike.

At that point, Lou came huffing up. "Sorry. Late again. What'd I miss?"

"Nothing much," grinned Jimmy.

Clarice followed her brother. "You dorks do anything useful yet?"

As the group chatted away, we headed into school.

At recess, I was surprised to see Anne enter with an escort. Mike - silent, reserved Mike - was walking by her side.

Anne saw me and darted over.

“You okay?” I asked.

She nodded. “Now I am.”

“Her bully,” intoned Mike. “Came up to her in recess. Walked away, though.”

Anne smiled at Mike. “He helped.”

“Details, please?” I inquired.

“Wanda … came at me in the hall,” Anne explained. “She started saying all sorts of stuff. I tried to get away… her friends blocked me. Boxed me in.

“Then Mike came up. He didn’t say anything, just stood there for a few seconds. They just… walked away.”

I glanced at Mike. “Thanks.”

Mike grunted. “We look out for each other.” He meandered off to get his own lunch.

I turned to Anne. “Are you doing okay? Seriously?”

“Yeah… It wasn’t anything physical, just words.”

“Words can hurt too. What did she say?”

Anne blushed. “I … it’s embarrassing.”

“Tell me.”

She sighed. “Wanda was… she said it was strange I’d never said I had a brother, and kind of funny. She suggested I was paying you.”

I grinned. “With what?”

“Er… she implied some things.”

It took me a few seconds to understand what Wanda had been implying.

When the realization hit me, I could’ve strangled the fourteen-year-old. “She didn’t,” I hissed.

“Uh… you’ve got to dial it back down. Mike handled it.”

“I…”

“Please don’t do anything.”

“I’m supposed to protect you, right?”

“Yeah, but you can’t go around beating up ninth-grade girls.”

The anger left me.

There was nothing I could do to Wanda…

At least not directly.

I smiled. “What if I helped you send a message?”

Anne looked concerned. Very concerned.

She should have been.

I had a plan.

Biology was the next class of my day, where I’d managed to get Jimmy as a lab partner.

Between slicing up frogs, we hatched the idea. Jimmy agreed that it would be hilarious.

"That kid needs to be taken down a peg,” he grinned.

Our classes were over, so Mike and Jimmy joined me as we headed down the hall.

The ninth-grade lockers were pretty busy. Not so busy, though, that the kids didn’t stop and stare at the sight of three seniors essentially marching in formation.

Wanda and her cronies were standing around a set of lockers. Wanda saw us coming and retreated at top speed.

No matter. We weren’t here for her.

The three of us reached the locker of a tall, good-looking boy.

Brad Meadows was what a ninth-grader might consider a heartthrob. He had sparkling blue eyes, a slender build, flawless skin, and blonde hair combed back into a mullet.

He was also fifteen, just over five feet, and probably not more than fifty kilos at most.

I loomed over him. “Brad Meadows.”

The kid turned, saw me, and went white. “Y-yeah?”

“You call me Mr. Drake,” I used my best ‘serious’ voice. I've been told it sounds intimidating.

Brad was backed up against his locker. He looked left and right. Unfortunately, Jimmy and Mike had blocked off those escape routes.

The kid had no situational awareness. Good. That would make this easier.

“You.” I pointed a finger at him. “Are. Not. Welcome. In my sister’s life. You got that?”

Brad nodded, hastily.

“You stay away from her.” I deepened my voice for emphasis. “She has no interest in you. Your attentions are Un. Well. Come. Do you understand?”

“I, uh,” Brad stammered hastily, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Lying, Brad?” I hissed darkly.

The kid got even paler, if that was possible.

“Don’t lie to me. I know. You’ve been trying to get to her. Stalking her. Leaving messages.”

“No!”

“You calling me a liar?” I asked dangerously.

“Mr. Drake, I swear,” Brad begged. “I didn’t do anything! I swear it!”

“Coward,” I rumbled. “Man enough to harass a girl. Not man enough to tell the truth.” I made a menacing fist.

“Mr. Drake….”

“Shut. Up.”

Brad wisely shut up.

“You will listen, and you will do as I say. You stay away from my sister. You don’t talk to her, you don’t message her, you don’t get within a hundred feet of her.

“I don’t care what you and that girlfriend of yours do. But you. Stay. The hell. Away. From my sister.” I gave him my most menacing glare.

Then I hit him with the full power of 200 points of Persuasion.

The terrified teen was nodding his head up-and-down in full panic mode.

“You’ll stay away from my sister?”

“Yes!”

“You’ll stop harassing her?”

“.... Yes, sir!”

“You’ll keep your paws to your girlfriend and away from me and my sis?”

“Absolutely!” The kid was shaking in terror.

I slowly inched back.

Brad slid down to the ground as the three of us walked away.

Principal Johnston was not a happy man. “I expected better from you.”

“I didn’t touch him,” I replied. “Just talked to him. Told him to stay away from Anne.”

“He claims you alleged harassment.”

“I’ve not made an official complaint. Nor has Anne.”

“That doesn’t change things.”

“I checked the rules when Anne made a complaint against Wanda. Didn’t your teachers suggest we drop it?”

Principal Johnston rubbed his eyes and sighed. “The students are talking about the allegations you made - that Brad and Wanda are … involved.”

“I didn’t make any allegations.”

“I believe you told him to ‘keep his paws on his girlfriend’?”

“I told him to keep his paws off my sister. Also told him I don’t care what else he does. That’s within bounds.”

“What’s out of bounds is three seniors threatening a younger student with physical force.”

“We didn’t touch him. There just happened to be a couple of seniors standing nearby while I counselled him to adhere to appropriate behaviour.”

“Rules lawyering. I should suspend you, you know.”

I shrugged.

“There has to be some punishment for bullying,” continued Johnston.

“I merely rendered counselling against attempts at sexual harassment.”

“The school can do that.”

“The school hasn’t done a sexual harassment seminar in years. I looked it up.”

Principal Johnston gave me an annoyed look. “You know how parents react when the school tries to schedule a seminar on preventing sexual harassment? Or anything related to sex?”

“I believe that’s why they made you principal. To deal with parents’ reactions. And still encourage education.”

“I find it difficult to remember that you are merely seventeen,” sighed Johnston. “You’ve more skill at argument than most of my teachers.”

“Are teachers argumentative?”

“You wouldn’t believe how much.” Principal Johnston grimaced. “I feel like I’m talking to an adult, not a school student.”

I grinned. “What would you do to an adult who scolded a child?”

“Probably empathize.” Johnston pulled up a file on his tablet. “Your teachers speak uniformly of your exceptional academic performance. You’re on track to be a straight A student, and you have fantastic conditioning - Coach Briggs wants to adopt you…”

“What?”

“He’s convinced you’re a potential Olympic medallist.”

“I have no plans for professional sports.”

“The javelin and archery practice suggest otherwise.”

“You know about the javelins?”

“Briggs has a friend at Brahampton.”

“... Well, it’s on my time.”

“Of course, you have every right to practice whatever sports you choose. However, please refrain from intimidating any more of the freshmen.” He tapped a control on his tablet. “Detention for one week. And you will write an apology, explaining how you were mistaken to target Brad.”

“I’m not writing any apology.”

“Two weeks detention, then.”

“I didn’t tell you to do that,” fumed Anne, as we headed back in the autocar.

“I thought it was for the best,” I replied. “It should get Wanda off your back.”

“Did your southender friends put you up to this?”

“No, it was my idea. And what do you mean by ‘southender’ friends?”

“I shouldn’t have said that. Sorry.”

“I’d be offended on their behalf but I don’t know what the word means.”

“You know the area Mick, Jimmy and Lou stay in? South End?”

“Yes….”

“Well, that’s what it means.”

“I don’t need a high Perception to sense there’s more to it than that.”

“You and your blasted powers…. Okay, South End isn’t a very well-off area. It’s basically low-cost housing and trailer parks.”

“So it’s the poor part of town?”

“.... Basically, yeah. Dad used to tell me not to go there on my own. Your friends are nice, though.”

“They’re your friends too. Remember, Mick stood up for you.”

“Yeah…. They’re good people. Just… not everyone in school thinks so.”

“The kids in school don’t have a great view of us, either.”

“... yeah, that’s true.”

“Let’s judge them for who they are to us, right? Not by where they live. I call them friends. Wouldn’t you?”

“I guess I would. Clarice is all right, too.”

“You spent time with her?”

“Well, we talk about stuff.”

“Stuff?”

“Girl stuff. She doesn’t mind chatting with a freshman, which is cool.”

“I’m glad. You could invite her over sometime.”

“Or go over to her place sometime?”

“Why not. Just… let me drop you off and pick you up.”

“You serious? I thought you said we shouldn’t judge people by where they live.”

“I’m more worried about your dad’s reaction if he finds out you went to South End alone.”

“There is that,” agreed Anne.

Detention turned out to mean more time to study.

My little discussion with Brad Meadows had multiple results. The freshmen were all abuzz with rumours, and everyone was convinced that Wanda was sleeping with Brad Meadows; that Brad was a creep who was into harassing other girls; and that Anne was not filing charges because Wanda had been threatening her to keep her silent. Or get revenge. The narratives changed depending on whom you spoke to.

A lie gets halfway across the world before the truth can put its pants on.

Anne was irritated, because people kept coming up to her and saying how brave she was. She generally shut everyone down with a ‘I don’t want to talk about it’.

The rest of the school ignored the drama engulfing the freshmen. Some of my fellow seniors thought it was a fine prank. Those who disapproved of the bullying-like nature were generally willing to forgive me once I’d served the detention.

Best of all, Brad, Wanda and their hangers-on, all gave Anne a wide berth. Nobody wanted to tangle with the sister of the crazy senior who could hurl a javelin two hundred feet.

The little intimidation I’d used on Brad had worked wonders. Since he’d wilted under my glare and - in the eyes of his peers - essentially admitted to harassing Anne, his classmates were convinced he was a creep.

And Wanda, by extension, was either covering up for him, or trying to get revenge.

Of course, what he said when terrified out of his mind had to be the truth. A man couldn’t lie under the influence of fear - wasn't that how detectives got crooks to confess on TV?