[center][hr][hr][img]http://i.imgur.com/4BkayPC.png?1[/img][hr][hr][/center]
[b]B R O O K L Y N   V I S I O N S   A C A D E M Y
T H E   N E X T   D A Y
0 5 : 1 5  P M[/b]

[i]“…offering fifty million dollars to the man who brings me the head of the Batman. That's fifty million dollars, tax free completely under the table and free to do whatever you want with. All you have to do is, kill the Batman.”[/i]

Ganke paused the video on his iPad. They were in the library, seated at two long, wooden tables connected side by side. They were meant to be studying for their physics test, a frightening behemoth that awaited them in not even twelve hours – something that Ganke, rather evidently, wasn’t taking seriously. He stared at Miles intently. When it became clear that his attention was on his studies, he cleared his throat. Miles looked up from his notes. “What?” he whispered. 

“Were you listening?” Ganke whispered back.

“Yeah.”

“Well?” 

“Well, what?”

“Are you gonna help him?”

“Who?”

“Dude,” Ganke whispered in exasperation. “Batman.”

“Yes, Ganke,” drawled Miles, “Because I’m just going to go to [i]Gotham City[/i] and help the [i]Batman[/i] fight whatever deranged psychos he has to deal with. What a [i]good idea[/i]. Why don’t I go to Metropolis and help Superman while I’m at it? Or join the Justice League?”

“Well, you fought that Ravager guy, didn’t you? I mean, come on, you totally kicked his butt. Completely and utterly. As thoroughly as Lana swears.”  

“Ganke…” he began, eyes dropping to the table. He remembered that fight as clearly as if it had happened yesterday. Ravager’s agonized screams rung loudly in his mind, screams brought forth by his venom blast, sending him tumbling off the Brooklyn Bridge and to his death. It was a memory Miles preferred not to spend time thinking about, but nonetheless managed to worm its way back into his head – no thanks to Ganke. “I… [i]really[/i] need to study.”

“Oh. Right.” Ganke scratched his chin. “Well, the others are late.”

Miles’ brows furrowed. “The others?”

“Yeah,” he answered. “You know, Judge. Lana.”

A black-haired girl, attractive, and probably (most definitely) a year or two older than them, walked into view, phone pressed against her ear. Miles raised his eyebrows at Ganke.

“– Clint, [i]please[/i]. I’m at school. Nothing bad ever happens at school. (Well, except for, y’know, school.) Anyway, I have to go. I have this study-group-thing with these guys that are – okay, right. Say hi to Lois for me.” She tucked her phone in her pocket and arrived at the table, placing the books she carried at the end opposite of Miles and Ganke. Everything about her screamed of style, from her expensive clothing to the way she carried herself – easily, without much effort. And so it was with ease that she said, “Hi. Kate Bishop.” 

“Uh – hi,” replied Miles. It was all he could do not to stare. “Miles.”

“So, Ganke said that your group’s good at all this physics stuff. I’m in grade eleven, but… I need help. A looooot of help. That’s cool, right?”

“Yep,” said Ganke before Miles could say anything. “It’s cool. Everyone’s cool. We… are cool.”

Miles rolled his eyes. Kate sat down.

A thin boy with large headphones approached the table, a girl with heavily applied black lipstick and nail polish not far behind him. 

“Hey guys,” said Judge, “Sorry I’m late.”

“Yeah,” said Lana, “I didn’t know we had a study group. It was kinda last-minute.”

“No, that’s cool. Cool, cool, cool. Well, come on, people,” Ganke said, rubbing his hands together in an animated fashion, “This exam won’t study itself!”

Miles sighed and returned his attention to his notes, as did the others. As much as he needed to focus on his work, he couldn’t help but sneak glances towards Kate; there was something about her that was magnetizing. He had no doubt that Ganke only created this study group to get a chance to talk to her – such were the ways of fifteen year-olds without an inkling of knowledge on girls. “Okay,” he began, poising his pen above a blank page in his notebook, “Physics.”