R and B_Race And Battle_Ch 1

I can usually tell right off the bat when I'm not gonna like someone, and this guy was no exception. I walked into the classroom, early as usual, and I heard him before I saw him. Strike one. The bass was so loud I could feel it. No single person's headphones had the right to be that loud, but unless there was a lowrider car complete with hydraulics in this classroom that seemed to be the case.

I looked up and saw what the kid looked like. Strike two, incidentally. He was taking up almost three desks. Leaning back in his chair, his headphone-clad head and long bushy violet hair were draped across the desk behind him. His worn-out sneakered feet were also up on the desk in front of him. His jeans were frayed at the bottom and ripped at the knees and one of his thighs near his crotch, enough so that I could see his boxers. I shuddered.

I had to show this guy up before he earned his third strike and a permanent frowny face in my book, not to mention ruined my day. I walked to the desk he had his feet on and slammed my backpack down on it, intending to make him flinch. He was so zoned out, though – or possibly asleep – that he didn't notice. That just pissed me off. I thought about pulling off his headphones and snapping them against his thick skull or screeching in his ear, but I just glared at him, instead, and loudly cleared my throat. No change. Loud, lazy, and a hippie – at least judging by the way he dressed. Yep, I would hate this guy until I was an old man, I was sure of it

I reached to pull the chair out of the desk I had claimed so I could sit down, then saw his legs draped over it and got a wicked gleam in my eyes. I briskly scooted my chair out and his legs slammed to the floor as his eyes shot open. I leaned over the desk with an evil grin. "Good morning, sleeping beauty~!" I said it so sweetly and facetiously that any kid would have wanted to punch me. Emphasis on wanted to. I didn't think he'd actually do it, but seconds later the back of my head slammed into my desk and blood was coming out of my nose – not much, but enough to make me freak out.

"What was that for?! Y-you punched me!!" I squawked, flailing to pull myself back up.

"That's a fine way to introduce yourself to someone, Pinky!" He snarled at me and turned off his music, pulling his headphones off his head and stuffing them into his backpack with his mp3 player. I wasn't sure why he called me "Pinky" at first, but then realized it was because of my hair. It really wasn't so much pink as it was salmon or peach colored, and I was starting to hate this guy more by the minute.

"You're taking up half the desks in the classroom and I could hear your music from the hallway! You deserved that…" I tried to think up an equally stupid insult as "Pinky" to call him, but I was a bit at a loss, "Hippie." I spat the words, even though looking at him now he seemed more like just a scrappy punk kid than a hippie. "And for your information, my name is Douglas. Douglas Overcast."

"Well for your information, my name is Ricco Vieira." He replied, mockingly. "And you don't own this classroom, so bug off, Doug." I. Hated. That. Nickname. That was almost enough to make that an automatic strike three, but I just clenched my teeth and tried to calm down. I did not want to start the school year by picking a fight, I was a good student and there was no way I was ending up in detention on the first day of school.

"I would prefer it if you called me Douglas." I said, as civilly as I could through gritted teeth. I was trying to think of more snappy retorts when other students started filtering in. I wasn't sure if I should be glad I didn't have to make conversation with Ricco anymore or frustrated that I was being cut off before I'd had a chance to make a comeback. I managed to tell myself he wasn't worth it, and went about the rest of the day ignoring him and ultimately getting lost in my daydreams.

After a miserable first day of eighth grade in which I learned that Ricco Vieira was in every single one of my classes, I was off to my part-time job. Not many kids my age had jobs, but I was a bit of an overachiever. I say a bit with good reason. I didn't take honors classes or anything, but I studied and was pretty smart. School came easily to me, so I always managed to get my work done and have plenty of free time. Too much free time. My house was boring, so I figured why not get a job? I didn't make much money – the position was sort of an internship, I worked as a delivery boy. Anyway, once school was over I hopped on my lime green scooter and strapped on my helmet. It was brand new and I'd just recently gotten a license to ride it – you could get a motor scooter license at 13 in Ska City, and having a part-time job doing delivery I thought it was a necessity.

I arrived at Bossa, Inc. in a little under half an hour. Since scooters weren't allowed on expressways or freeways – which were the main route for transportation in Ska – I'd learned the quickest side streets and back roads to take to get between school, work, home, and most of the usual stops for deliveries. It always felt good to be able to park in the spot with the little sign that said "Delivery Staff Only," and it felt even better to have to check in with the receptionist in the lobby of Bossa, Inc.

"Hey Sharon~ What deliveries do you have for me today?" I always tried to be charming around her, but it never worked so I'd given up on ever having a chance of going out with her. Besides, she was probably five or six years older than me. Sharon was always super friendly, and she wore her ginger-blonde hair in ringlets. I'd never seen a girl in this day and age wear her hair like that. Even if I hadn't had a crush on Sharon, though, I probably would've been polite. She was the kind of nice that warranted good manners.

"Hi Douglas! Let's see…" She looked over her handheld tablet, tapping the screen a number of times and biting her lip subconsciously, "Looks like there's just one today, sorry! But it's across town. To Lisa Weils. Oh! She's a good friend of Cassandra's, so be sure to make a good impression! It could peg you a promotion!" Sharon winked and smiled at me. The Cassandra she was talking about was Cassandra Lagorio, the president of Bossa, Inc. – which, incidentally, was the biggest recreational robotics company around. In short, she was my boss. The big boss. I'd met her, though. I'd interviewed with her when I applied for the position, and she was a great person. Cool, smart, and really down to earth – the kind of person you'd want running a company.

Sharon wrote down the address for me because as a thirteen-year-old boy I still didn't have a fancy phone. I did, however, have a GPS on my scooter that I'd program it into in a few minutes. After Sharon made sure I knew all the details of the delivery – the box had parts in it so I had to be careful with it, I was supposed to be polite to Ms. Weils, and if she was busy I didn't need to get her signature for the package – I said my goodbyes and made my way out to my scooter with the package, which I carefully tied down to the back of my scooter. The GPS told me that Ms. Weils' workshop was across town. The fastest way to get there was the expressway, but since I was limited in where I could drive I'd have to stick to side streets again. Which meant that the drive over would be about 45 minutes.

Between having to constantly look at my GPS unit to make sure I was on the right track, my thoughts wandered back to school. Normally I'd be daydreaming or cloud-gazing but that was a huge hazard while I was driving, so I decided it was better not to do that. I kept thinking of that Ricco kid and how annoying he was. In History, he'd interrupted the teacher three times with questions – one of which was if he could go to the bathroom – and during Math while we were supposed to be working quietly he continued to hum some song and drum his fingers on his desk so I couldn't concentrate. I'd nearly snapped my pencil in half and turned around to hiss at him, but I'd thought better of it. Amazingly enough, I'd spent most of the ride wasting brain cells on him and I quickly found myself driving down the street with Weils' workshop – which upon closer inspection I could see was more of a garage.

I parked outside the garage since there wasn't a proper parking lot. An old beater truck – the kind you didn't see too many of anymore – and a flashy red motorcycle were also parked outside the garage. I grabbed the package and poked my head around the garage door, about to say something, when I saw something that made me gasp. No. No, no, no, this wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. Augh, my eyes!! There in front of me - hair pulled up in a ponytail wrapped in a bandana, wearing cutoff shorts, no shirt, and working on a robot the size of a barstool – was the object of my loathing, Ricco Vieira. I let out an audible noise of disgust, inadvertently announcing my presence.

Ricco turned to look at me, and was equally as surprised to see me in this context, outside of school. I was still wearing my scooter helmet and holding the package for Ms. Weils under one arm, and a grin spread across his face. I was sure he was going to make fun of me, but he just waved and said "Hey! Pinky!" at which I scowled.

"I have a delivery for a Ms. Lisa Weils? From Bossa, Inc., care of Cassandra Lagorio." I enunciated clearly, though I was sure a vein somewhere on my forehead was about to burst from holding back the urge to yell at this guy.

"Delivery for Weils, eh? Hey, mamacita!" Ricco turned and hollered toward the back of the shop, "There's a kid here with a delivery for you!" He set down the wrench he was using to fix the robot and stood up, looking at me with another grin. I wanted so badly to tell him to put a shirt on, but I just glared contemptuously back.

"So… you work here?" I frowned, looking away because I didn't really care and I didn't want to look at his stupid face.

"Yeah, so? You work as a delivery boy." He shrugged, "Besides, working here beats working at a gas station, am I right?" He laughed. I didn't want to make conversation with him, but he was so friendly and relaxed.

"I guess… Wait, did you used to work at a gas station?" I blinked.

Ricco nodded, "Yep. Gotta do something to support my mom and grandma. Weils found me fixing up a bike in my spare time and offered me a job here. Said she could use the help." I didn't need to know about his family life, nor did I want to. Soon enough I'd start sympathizing with him and that was the last thing in the world I wanted. Before the awkward silence was long enough that I felt forced to respond, however, the door to the back part of the shop opened and a woman – whom I could only assume was Lisa Weils – stepped into the garage.

She looked a lot different than I expected. When I'd seen that the place was a garage I'd – stereotypically, I must admit – imagined a tough girl with short hair, someone who smoked and dressed in baggy, trashy clothes. Sharon's warning to be polite made me think she was someone whose good side I'd need to make sure to stay on. The real Lisa Weils was tall and thin, wore wireframe glasses and kempt overalls over a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up – which was cleaner than I expected, working around all that grease.  She had long black hair pulled back in a ponytail and a kind of sly smile on her face. Even if she wasn't actually smiling, her eyes had that kind of mischievous twinkle.

"You said I had a package from Cas?" she asked Ricco with a raised eyebrow before looking to me, "Ah, you must be Cas's new delivery boy! She's said a lot about you." The woman said as she approached me.

"Sh-she has?" I squeaked, "Ah, I mean, yes! I-I'm Douglas Overcast, I'm here to deliver th-this!" I thrust the package toward her nervously. Had Cassandra Lagorio really told this woman about me? I'd barely even spoken to her myself!

"Right…" she laughed a little and took the package from me, "Well, she said she had a new delivery boy. Said he was young but competent and that she never had to worry about misplaced or late deliveries. I assume she was talking about you…" She looked at the box as she spoke to me, pulling a pocket knife from one of her overall pockets and slicing the box open. My cheeks were burning from the compliment, and I'm sure they could both tell because they gave me the same creepy grin.

"Anyway, I-I should probably be getting back…" I turned to leave, not wanting to have to stay in the same room as Ricco for much longer.

"Wait a second…" Weils, who had still not formally introduced herself to me, said that more as an afterthought than a demand, as she looked at the contents of her delivery. "You just got here."

"Well, I just came to deliver that package, so…" I looked toward the door, shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably.

"I was just about to ask if you'd be interested in joining our R&B team, though!" She grinned, suddenly chipper. I whipped my head around, totally confused.

"R&B? Like… Rhythm and Blues? I don't know what makes you think a kid like me would be good at tha---" I was cut off by laughter from the both of them.

"Not that R&B. I'm talking about Race and Battle. It's sort of a… game, centered on robots." My ears perked up at that, but I wasn't sure why she was asking me. Just because I worked as a delivery boy for a robotics company didn't mean I had a robot (as much as I would've liked to have one). She continued, "Cas is actually the one who came up with it, it's the reason she started up her company. Anyway, it's a team thing. Each team has eight members. Not a lot of people know about it because it's not exactly an official thing and it's not a spectator sport."

"What… kinda stuff do you do?" I tilted my head, too intrigued by this idea to leave now.

"What, the name didn't give you a good enough idea?" she laughed, "Like the name says, we race and battle robots. Or at least, that was the original idea. These days, the games have sort of devolved into… Turf wars. For the connected undergrounds of the three cities in this area: Ska City, Soul City, and Pop City. It's not like a gang or anything, though!" She waved her hands when she noticed my expression turn slightly horrified at the mention of turf wars, "I just say that because these days all the teams tend to use… underhanded tactics. It's become less about battling robots and more about being sneaky and trying to get the upper hand over your opponent… Cas and I really miss the old days, so we figured getting some 'new blood' into the game might help get things back on track."

"So, what, you figure a kid like me will be all gung-ho about robot battles and help save the world of underground robot battling?" I retorted sarcastically.

"Well… not you alone, no. Our team's currently got three positions open we're hoping to fill with… younger team members. We figure we might be able to talk the other teams into doing the same thing and get things back to the way they should be."

"So Cas… Ms. Lagorio… is she on the team, too?" I knew she'd come up with the idea, and as the president of the largest recreational robotics company I thought she'd definitely be a strong advantage to the Ska City team over the other two…

"She's not, actually. When we started out, she was the captain of our team, but after a few years it was decided that she was too good and she was declared an illegal player and banned from the games. But!" Weils' eyes sparkled behind her glasses, "She still oversees everything that goes on in our team. Think of it like a chess game… Cas is like the king – she's the crucial piece, but she's not really allowed to move that much. Actually, that analogy works really well! Jay, our current team captain, would be the queen, Micah would be the knight, and Hector and Ingrid are bishops… I guess I'm the Rook, and what we're looking for now…" She looked at me with a smirk, "Are pawns, so to speak."

"Geez, a pawn, that's really flattering." I was on a roll with the sarcasm today.

"Aw, don't be like that! Maybe pawn isn't the right word for it… We're looking for kids to be sort of hybrids… like a pawn-knight, a pawn-rook, and a pawn-bishop!"

"Uh-huh… Well, you've officially got me interested. Only problem is… I don't have a robot."

"Who do you think you're talking to? I'm Cas's best friend and Ska City's best robot mechanic. If you're willing to play for our team… I'm sure we can work something out for you!" Weils winked, and it suddenly hit me how real this whole suggestion was. How close I was to having my very own robot. Right now I was so giddy that I had completely forgotten about stupid Ricco and the fact that he was still there listening to every word Weils was saying. If I had, maybe I would've thought twice about what I said next.

"You can count me in!"