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[INDENT]Nike fidgeted erratically as Zatanna transported her to this ‘Kubert’ High, sitting in the back seats as she had been told [i]‘that’s where the cool kids go’[/i]. She was uncomfortable in the extreme. There was nowhere for her long legs to go in these cramped confines, and for the hundredth time she wondered why she had to go at all. She was an Amazonian, trained by the finest scholars of Themyscira in mathematics, history, philosophy, the sciences, and art. What need did she have for [i]‘high-school’[/i]. She doubted the education she would receive at Kubert’s would even begin to rival that which she had already had.

More than that though,she was discomforted by the ruse that Grayson and Zatarra were making her life: Masquerading as a normal person, concealing her noble heritage and play-acting as [i]Nike Prince[/i] in the hopes that none of the other students would discover who she really was and what she was really doing in Midway city. It ill fit a warrior keep hidden their sharp edges. What if it came to a fight, and Nike had none of her weapons to hand? People could die, and all for the sake of a fool’s dramatisation!

And these clothes! By the Gods, these clothes! So tight and constricting. How is one supposed to move in them? The ‘skinny jeans’ that she had provided with were especially cumbersome, restricting all but the most limited of leg movements. Why, how could she be expected to high-kick anyone in these, she would never know. The Princess tried to work some slack into the infernal sartorial torture devices, but even with the strength of Herakles, and the strategic mind of an Amazonian general, there was no winning that battle. The jeans remained as much of a hindrance as ever. 

This whole charade was a tactical misstep, that she was sure of. 

It seemed a damnable eternity before the van stopped at their destination, pulling up in front of an ugly looking building of gray, lifeless concrete, faced by large, greasy windows that were obviously in dire need of a good cleaning, and even more lifeless looking children sloping up it’s chipped front steps. Nike stepped off the van with an awkward swagger (damnable jeans strike again) and proceeded to glare at the statue of a middle-aged man located outside of the school. This, she thought to herself, must be that cad Kubert. He was the architect of her current misfortunes.

The van pulled off, leaving Nike and most of her fellows stranded in front of the school. Nike continued to scowl up at the building, her ire increasing with every heartbeat. Why must she be tortured in this place? Was she not a hero? Was she not the famed Wonder Girl, savior of Washington? Was she not a [b]princess[/b]? Surely this horrible looking building was a domicile for the unjust and the wicked, and not a prison for the good and the noble. Nightwing and Zatanna had been wrong to send her here! This was a mistake, and Nike was going to correct it.

Planting her feet wide and her hands upon her hips, she faced her compatriots and declared loudly: [color=goldenrod]“I [b]shall not[/b] be entering this Hades-blessed place. Not on this day, or any other. You may all do as you wish, but I will set not one foot in there.”[/color]

	[COLOR=INDIANRED][B]“So…”[/B][/COLOR] Karlie was the first among the group to speak as she stepped forward. [COLOR=INDIANRED][B]“Hashtag shopping then?”[/B][/COLOR] She suggested with a shrug. [COLOR=INDIANRED][B]“I know I could use a new pair of shoes, and it’s not like we’ll miss anything on the first day anyways.”[/B][/COLOR] Looking towards the rest of the group, Karlie winked as she pulled out her iHolo. [COLOR=INDIANRED][B]“I’ll shoot the French Fry a text, [I]Man Bun[/I] doesn’t need to know though, anyone with a hashtag douche knot is sure to rat us out faster than I can type R-A-T.”[/B][/COLOR]  

Putting the phone back in her clutch, Karlie grabbed Nike by the hand and began to run. 

[COLOR=INDIANRED][B]“Let’s go to the mall!”[/B][/COLOR] She sung out. [COLOR=INDIANRED][B]“Today!”[/B][/COLOR] Pausing, Karlie turned to look back at the group as the rest of them stared dumbfounded at her and Nike. They were obviously torn between doing what they were supposed to do, and doing what they wanted to do. 

[COLOR=INDIANRED][B]“Look,”[/B][/COLOR] Karlie stated as she took a couple steps back towards the group, smoothing her ruffled skirt before crossing her arms, her halter top riding up showing off her naval piercing as she leaned back. [COLOR=INDIANRED][B]“I know we’re supposed to go to school. But most of us learned everything we had to back home. This veil of normalcy won’t stand, we’re not normal. We’re misfits no matter where we go. We’re not the pedigree of heroes that Wing Man and Zee are, and we’re not Mundane like Gretta and Diggle there.”[/B][/COLOR] Karlie paused to point towards the norms who had slinked away towards the school. [COLOR=INDIANRED][B]“We don’t fit into either world and we may as well make the best of that. If we don’t make choices for us, then we’ll lose what makes us special and I know each of you is special. Even you Rev.”[/B][/COLOR] Karlie added with a sly wink. 

[COLOR=INDIANRED][B]“So come on, let’s cut loose and enjoy what little time we have left as teenagers.”[/B][/COLOR] Karlie said as she waved for the others to follow. [COLOR=INDIANRED][B]“Like I said, we’re not going to miss anything today anyways.”[/B][/COLOR][/INDENT]