Wow, it's been a little while since I last posted another chapter! Would you believe me when I say I've had the flu, got kidnapped by Daleks down Cardiff in Wales and have been super busy for a few weeks! I hope so because that's what it's been like, even the Daleks! I promised loopstagirl and Sam1 that I would get this chapter so here I am!

Hello to the new people following me on Author/Story Alerts! I have cookies waiting for you in the VIP lounge! XD

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School had never been invented to be fun, every child knew that. It was why so many look at the clock in class, willing for the handle to take on a life of its own and to go faster so the end of the day came faster. The fact that it was only the start filled some with dread, including Gordon. The first couple of classes decided to pass by with some relative ease, but dinner had a whole new meaning. He'd gone to lunch with whatever his grandmother had made for him yet had found himself handing the most of it to his friends. He'd tried to get himself to take a bite of his apple when a bump from behind caused him to almost drop it. It was Tony, wearing a rather smug sneer and leaning down.

"How you finding it, Tracy? Knowing that your fake whoever made you lunch," he hissed close to his Gordon's ear.

If he had gotten an inch closer, then he would have thumped him a second time but he couldn't do it again, not after such a long talk with his dad over the phone-com. He decided to choose do his best to ignore the comment and focus his gaze on the canteen. His heart gave a skip when he saw Virgil looking over from where he sat a questioning expression clear on his face, along with, un-noticed by the others around them but totally obvious from a family point of view, a look of annoyance. It wasn't often that Virgil showed his annoyance at much. He was just that kind of positive guy. However, even he couldn't shake the big brother protectiveness of a little bro being harassed. Gordon gave a quick shake of head to show that there was nothing wrong and was relieved to see the 'BBP' stepping down a notch and turning back to his friends.

He had never been good at Maths, no matter how many times his teacher tried to stuff the facts into his head or keep him behind after class to give him extra help sheets. Not that he let it known how bad he was, but he was on the road to a new personal record by doing zero work at all. Normally, he would have at least attempted some of the algebra, knowing that his father would shoot him into space if he came home with a failing grade on his report card. Mr Brunner had been looking at him for the past ten minutes as if trying to send him mental detention slips for his lack of attention. A sigh and a head on his desk showed what he thought of that problem. He had other things on his mind than trying to figure when x and y went.

He had until the end of the day before he could perform his plan. However, he was a Tracy and patience was not something that was written in their genetics. He gave a sarcastic huff at the thought of genes. Maybe that part of him came from a different person entirely. It would explain his jokester personality and how he always had a larger amount of energy than the others. A wave of self-revulsion shuddered through him, causing him to fold his arms in order to stop his fingers clenching on his desk.

"Mr Tracy, I see the outside world is better than calculating your questions,"

Gordon felt his body tense at the voice of his teacher. It wouldn't be so much a surprise that he and his teacher had previously gotten on rather well, putting lack of number skill aside. They both had a sense of humour which had connected them into a weird teacher/student relationship. The problem was that the friendship had slowly begun to die, thanks to the obvious, and even though Mr Brunner had tried to help without gaining attention from the other students, the redhead had no interest in being helped and would rather be left alone. He simply looked up from his desk and gave a nonchalant shrug.

"If that's the case, I suppose you wouldn't mind staying for a detention," Mr Brunner replied, his glasses poised on the bridge of his nose, his voice disapproving but his eyes full of barely concealed concern.

A jolt of guilt filled the young teen at the thought of another detention only a few days after his last. His grandmother would not only be thoroughly disappointed, but no doubt his dad would be contacted and informed of his 'unruly' behaviour. It would also ruin his plan for the afternoon so, gritting his teeth, he fixed his own gaze with that of his teacher.

"No, sir," he muttered, a tinge of red spread across his pale cheeks. "(x + 3)2 = x2 + 6x + 9 and (3a + 3b)2 = 9a2 + 18ab + 9b2 ."

He watched as Mr Brunner blinked in surprise of Gordon's answers. He didn't know whether the boy had realised what he had done, but he had managed to get the two questions completely right without even realising. He would have been impressed, but the fact that something was obviously wrong, he decided to praise him and gave a cough instead.

"Alright, but if I catch you daydreaming again, it's instant detention," he said, turning his front back towards the board, wondering whether he should inform one of his brothers of what had gone on just in case.

A sigh of relief escaped Gordon as he realised what a narrow escape that had been. He could have ruined everything. His relief intensified at the sound of the bell, marking the end of class. It was time to get going. He didn't even wait for his friends before throwing his stuff into his bag and pelting out of the door, not waiting for what the homework assignment would be. He was out of breath by the time he had reached his locker, shoved his bag in and pulled out his hoody. This piece of clothing had been banned from school by the principal due to some people using them to hide their appearance and vandalise the walls outside. Waiting for everyone to get into class, Gordon threw on the hoody and pulled up the offending hood. He had to be out of the corridor soon unless he wanted to bump into either the janitor or the Hall monitor. Something niggled at the back of his mind, trying to yell at him that Scott was picking up Virgil, Alan and him after school to go bowling and if he didn't turn, then the full wrath of the mother hen would be unleashed. Especially when his brothers have realised that he was catching three buses to the other side of the county.

There was only one way to find out if the vicious rumour was true and if it meant using every dollar from his saved allowance, then he would use it. Too many markers pointed to both it being true or false. He had remembered from a few years back, getting a drink from the kitchen when he heard his dad talking to his grandma about him and heard the sentence "I sometimes wonder if Gordon was meant for this family!" He couldn't ignore this anymore. He had to know. Grabbing his emptied bag, he gave a quick look around the corridor and walked quickly for the exit. His first bus was in about twenty minutes so he would have to be quick if he was going to make it in time. He stopped briefly at the double doors, throwing a glance over his shoulder towards the classroom that held his younger brother, Alan. He'd been meaning to apologise to the kid all day, but had no idea of what he could say to explain why he'd attacked him. The big brother in him had been mentally ticking him off all day for even physically hurting Al in that way. None of his older brothers had ever harmed each other in such a way, and he really didn't want to be the first. He was almost tempted to try and get Alan's attention at the classroom door window like they'd done when they were younger, but times changed and this was the one time where apologises would have to wait. More important things had to be dealt with first. Hoping that his first ever 'hookie' from school wouldn't tarnish his record forever; Gordon pulled his gaze away, shrugged his bag higher onto his shoulder and walked out.

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3.00 couldn't have come any faster for Alan. Learning Shakespeare was pretty awesome sometimes, but for a dead guy, his tragedies could kill a whole class at the right time of the day. That was right now and hoped that Melanie (the girl he had liked for a while) had not noticed the drool puddle that had collected nicely on his desk. He quickly wiped the corner of his mouth and jotted down notes that he could remember from his small nap. There was no way he could be tired now. Scott had finally gotten some time off from work and had planned a trip out to the local bowling alley with he Gordon and Virgil. John was off on a date with some girl in his grade and this was such an obvious ploy to keep both Gordo and him out of the way so not to ruin their blonde-haired brother's chances of love.

Psh, like they would do that!

He thanked whatever higher power existed when the final bell rang and packed his stuff away. He had promised to meet Scott in the parking lot at 3.10 so they could get off early and get a decent lane. Leaving with what he hoped was a cool grin to Melanie, Alan headed off in the direction of the lot. He couldn't but smile widely when he saw Scott sitting on the bumper of his car, his own smile evident when their eyes met.

"'Sup, Sprout?" he grinned, taking the bag of Alan's shoulder and throwing it into the boot of the car.

"Not much! Only just an A+ in my English paper!"

"Alright, Al!" Scott exclaimed, high-fiving his little brother. "Looks like Johnny has a competition for class genius!"

Alan rolled his eyes with a smirk, knowing that there was no chance in him ever taking John's clever crown. He had practically been worshipped by all the teachers for his grades.

"Where's Gordo? Thought he'd be chomping at the bit to get going," Scott asked, arms folded in a pensieve fashion. This was when Alan's frown appeared once more, wondering the exact same thing.

"No idea," he muttered, looking around the lot for any sign of his brother's red hair. It wasn't as if many of the students had the same intensity of colour, but no luck. He wasn't anywhere to be seen. As he was beginning to wonder if Gordon had forgotten and had caught the bus back home, one of Gordon's best friends, PJ, came jogging over to them with some papers in his hand.

"Yo, Tracys! Can you give this to Gord? He missed a test in History and thought he'd want to catch up later!"

Scott pushed himself off his bumper and taking the papers, his previous expression replaced with a mixture of confusion and a hint of concern. "What do you mean? Wasn't he there?"

PJ shook his head.

"He was with us in Maths, but never turned up to last class. We figured he'd just gone to the nurse or something."

Both brothers thanked the boy and then turned to each other, sharing the same worried look. Gordon was a prankster and a bit of easy trouble, but never had he skipped a class before. It just wasn't him. Alan gazed up at his eldest brother, worry now shining within his eyes.

"Scott, where's Gordon?"

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Look! Gordon did a vanishing trick! ISN'T HE AMAZING?

Okay, so where do you think our young Tracy has wondered off to! He could go anywhere! Let me know in the reviews!