Blake's.other classes went off without much of a hitch.
Blake wasn't necessarily the smartest kid amongst his peers, but he was the most clever without a doubt. He had no trouble doing the assignments given to him and he was definitely a lot better off academically than his peers. This was because his ability to comprehend things were ultimately vast — that, and his ability to compartmentalize pretty much anything around him with a cool mind and to memorize anything he reads allowed him to think of various perspectives and angles to any issue he may find himself in.
While psychologists he has often visited call it AdHD, he calls it 'having that mentality.' It has helped him out of various sticky situations, like with Josh Allen and his group of dumb jocks earlier.
That's why many of his classes were simply easy for him. His eidetic memory along with his extraordinary ability to compartmentalize and comprehend situations with a sound mind have made reading the material over once allow him to be able to pass each of his classes throughout elementary and junior high, and, even now, in high school, as a freshman, he was pretty much on autopilot throughout the lessons.
And, technically, it wasn't necessarily that he was smart — It went deeper than just base level intelligence…It was more like he had greater comprehending and recall skills and used that to do his class work, get ahead of his homework and do his assignments and whatnot.
There have been many instances where teachers in elementary and junior high wanted to skip him a few grades or put him into a special academic program meant for geniuses because of his apparent academic abilities but Blake would not be onboard for it and would turn them down. While it would be productive, Blake did not want to spend all his days doing more work than he had to — Plus, he'd have to read a lot more than he wanted to for these classes.
Guess lazy could also be a trait that describes Blake.
By the time the last bell rung, Blake was already packed and heading out the door. He thought that if he could make it out the school door before encountering Josh and his gang, he'd be able to use the woods surrounding the school as cover on his bike ride home.
Sadly, he'd barely made it out the front door when he was forcibly picked up and propped [spelled: Slammed] painfully against the brick walls of the school.
"Hiya, Blake, miss me," Josh Allen, smirking in all his bastardous glory, with his gang members backing him. Except, this time, there were 8 members backing him, not 6, and all of them were built like an ox.
"Fuck me," Blake muttered to himself quietly, before raising his voice. "Not really. You remind me of a retard, and your breath stinks, smells like garbage. You've heard of garbage, right? It's trash, not food. How about some toothpaste, yeah?"
In response, Josh Allen landed a punch to Blake's still sore gut, and then laughed maniacally. "Come on, Orphface, you know to watch that mouth of yours around me. It'll get ya killed one day."
"Perhaps, maybe," Blake admitted flatley. "But you're too soft to kill anyone. You're a pussy dumbass with a lack of academic accomplishment and no intelligence to your name."
The punch to his eye was instant, but the pain lasted long after the fist had left his face and returned to his gut. Blake was seeing stars, but he'd never give this bastard the satisfaction of surrender. He'll tank whatever pain these goons give him, but his pride was on the line, and, damn, was he prideful.
"You watch what you let leave them lips, Orphface," warned a blurry Josh Allen, who, along with the 8 other gang members were taking turns beating him to a pulp.
"Not what your mother did last night," Blake responded, showing his pearly white teeth. "I had to pull her off that stick. It was awesome!"
"You shameless bastard!" Josh pounded Blake with his fists, beating his chest in, repeatedly. Blake felt he broke a rib or two.
Many students began pausing at the commotion in front of the school. Some continued on, minding their own business. Others stayed silent, watching what happened with interest. This was the most entertainment they'd receive all day.
""Wait, wait, wait, hold up," Blake put his hands up, signaling to wait a minute. The boys stopped beating for a moment, looking at Josh, who thought Blake was finally going to apologize. "I just remembered; I was just on my way to see your mom," Blake shot his famous, bloody smile and started cackling, ignoring the pain in his gut. "You might soon end up calling me 'Daddy'."
Josh was livid. He couldn't believe he fell for that. He turned so red in shame and anger that no one could tell which shade of red was rage and which was shame. Blake, of course, didn't care. He was having a blast. Sure he was getting himself pummeled, but he was pissing off someone with a foot too far up their ass to be chill. As far as Blake was concerned, this was too good of an opportunity. There was nothing like creating drama for his fans to watch… even if said drama was him getting his ass handed to him by a bunch of jocks he was pissing off, and his fans being high schoolers thirsty for entertainment.
'I'm gonna be a star,' Blake thought to himself, dazed for a moment.
Then Josh had to go and ruin it.
"I'm sick of that mouth on you bastard face," he shouted out over the chanting of encouraging students yelling 'Fight! Fight! Fight!'. "Maybe its time to stuff it!"
"Ayo, pause!" Blake shouted out, hands up. "That was sus!"
"With my fist!" Josh yelled, back, embarrassed even more somehow, punching Blake across the face again. "With my fist, you dirty minded, shameless bastard!"
"You know, that's not what your mom said last night when I—," Blake began but was interrupted by a kick to his ribs. He coughed up blood
"BASTARD!" Josh screamed, red with rage, his eyes nearly bulging from their sockets. "I'll make sure you were never born, you shameless, bastardface Orphan!"
And it became quiet — sound seemed to stop coming to Blake's ears, and time seemed to slow, but the beatings continued. It was no secret that Blake was a foster kid. In this age, nothing is ever kept secret for long. That included the fact that Blake never knew his parents —- His bio parents, anyways.
"You should commit suicide," Josh said to Blake's ear, smirtking, knowing that his words got to Blake, as he he continued to pummel Blake's face with even more punches to his face. "Your own parents didn't even want you! Why should any of us?"
Blake felt unimaginable sadness that turned immediately into rage. These words were thoughts he already had about himself. It only served to verbalize what he had already thought up, but it was still a heavy blow to him mentally.
"Sad, pathetic Blake Orpheus!" Josh sneered. "No mother." Punch. "No father." Kick. "No family." Punch, punch. "All on his own with foster parents that hate him!" Sneer.
Despair like nothing he'd ever felt emptied out in him like a dam and something felt like it was about to happen. Something dark and cold inside him seemed to awaken and it must've been reflective in his eyes, because. As Josh picked up Blake by the neck, he felt a shiver run down his spine as he dropped Blake and couldn't help but take a few steps back.
What he saw horrified him. Blake's eyes — they weren't their usual pale white —- They were glowing demonic black —- The sclera and the pupil were glowing demonic black,while the iris was glowing pale white, and the area of skin around his eyes were glowing black like veins. It was like looking into the eyes of a demon. Josh couldn't help but gasp and release a shiver.
The other students were curious about why the jock had taken a step back and was uncontrollably shivering. They couldn't see Blake's eyes, and they started murmuring about what could be happening as they tried to step closer to get a better look.
Blake fekt rage — Just rage. He wanted to whip Josh Allen and his entire bloodline off the face of the Earth. And he probably would have, too. He didn't even notice when the shadows of the jocks started wriggling, moving on their own.
They began wriggling, shaking, as if coming to life and reacting to Blake's rage. He might've noticed something was off a second later, if the car horn hadn;t gathered his attention.
Pulling up to the curb, a familiar grey Range Rover let down its driver side window, as it came drifting to the curb, it's driver revealed to be a beautiful face, with dark violet eyes that was dark dark purple it could've been mistaken for black. Her build was lean and thin and she wore a purple skirt over black skinny jeans and a purple blouse.
Next to her, in the passenger seat sat a guy around the same age, so 15 — He seemed latin, too, tan. He had light grey, basically silver hair, styled in a top fade, black at the roots. His eyes were grey, he looked like he hadn't had a good night's sleep in years, his bags heavily hung under his eyes. He had an athletic build with a natural eye bag under each of his eyes, as if he sleeps a lot yet couldn't reach the bodily satisfactory level of rest. He was dressed in sweatpants and a sweater, both grey with matching tennis shoes/
These two were Blake's cousins! Achlys and Cimon.
"What the hell are you waiting for, cuz? Get in!" Achlys yelled from the driver seat.
And, using the last of the adrenaline, Blake got to his feet, shoved two the jocks that blocked his path two meters away, he climbed into the backseat, and Achlys floored it, neither one of them looking back.