Marten Silver casually ignored his History teacher, lamenting to himself about how badly he needed a break. A nice vacation, somewhere away from teachers, bullies, principals, and Raresyde in general. He thought this to be a little bit pathetic, seeing as he’d started his freshman year all of a month and a half ago, but the expectations of him were significantly higher than those of anyone else his age...or anyone else in the school, really.

Ever since he had won the Pennsylvania State Junior Academic Bowl in eighth grade, everyone in the Raresyde school district regarded him as a genius. He supposed he probably did fall in or near that category, but that didn’t make him any less of a fourteen year old boy. One that had concerns other than schoolwork.

He was expected to answer every homework question correctly (which he usually could), ace every test (which he did), and walk away from the quarter with a report card boasting a straight line of one hundred percents, just as he had in middle school. It wasn't that he had a problem with the schoolwork, to be honest, he just didn't like people having such high expectations of him all the time, even if he could typically meet them.

The other students, of course, were no help. Most of them seemed to be jealous, rolling their eyes or glaring at him when they happened to catch a glimpse of his test scores, and the joking “You’re so smart, I hate you” comments still stung.

Then there was Mitch, that punk junior. Marten didn't know what exactly the older boy's beef with him was, or if he even had a specific one. His only guess was the natural rivalry between upperclassmen and underclassmen, combined with a specific predator-prey relationship. Marten really didn't want any trouble with the older boy, and he didn’t like the idea of the principal coming to his rescue all the time, but the bullying showed little promise of going away.

The bell to signal the end of his class rang, and Marten shook his head to clear his thoughts. He stood and walked out the door and into the crowded halls of Raresyde High, and did his best to weave in and out of students and teachers that needed to move from one room to another in the three-minute timespan they were given between classes. Unfortunately, Marten was not as coordinated or agile as Mitch had implied in their fight in the cafeteria.

"Oof!" Marten exclaimed as he hit the floor, his books and notebooks scattering about. The girl he had run into, who was still very much on her feet, gasped in surprise.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed. "Boy, you sure did come outta nowhere! Here, let me help ya up," she said, extending a hand. Marten looked up at the girl--a tall, curvy redhead with a bushy ponytail and a white bandana around her neck--and decided to take her hand while he tried to place her accent. It was a bit beyond the Pittsburghese dialect he had grown up around, and more in the vein of an actual Southern drawl.

After the girl--who he now noticed was also wearing bright pink cowboy boots--had pulled him to his feet, Marten glanced around at his scattered belongings. "Um, thanks," he said.

"Oh, you’re welcome," she replied with an energetic smile. "Hope I didn't cause any trouble."

"No, it was probably my fault anyway," Marten said with a shrug. "You, uh, should probably be on your way. Wouldn't want to be late to class."

She smiled again. "Yeah, I think I'll do that. Thanks for your concern."

"No problem," he replied with a nod and a small smile as she walked away. She glanced back, waving. When she was gone, Marten bent over to pick up his books, considering the girl he'd just met. "Funny," he mumbled to himself. “She was awfully friendly for a fox.”