Celine_Dion: Aw, thank you! At this point, I can't really confirm whether or not Ash and May will be joining this fic, but like I said before, anything's possible so don't count it out yet!
Anyway, characters that are introduced in this chapter, in order of appearance (thanks Pokesho for the images):
Noland, Professor Rowan, Lily, Violet, Lorelei (Prima), and Giselle.
Giselle doesn't really make an appearance but I felt like adding her anyway. XD Oh, and any character that is introduced is then liable to appear in any other chapter after that. This means I don't have to continuously re-introducing some characters. So it's free-game for everyone. The only constants in this fic are the main characters, who you should be starting to guess are Drew, Lucas, Blue, Dawn, Misty, Gary... and possibly one or two more right now. XD
Anyway, let's get this started!
Chapter Two: Dancing Receptionists and Janitor's Closets
The first week of school is always the longest and mine, excluding the first day back, was highly uneventful. I hadn't made any moves for Misty yet, and Lucas was becoming impatient. I just wanted to take my time with Misty, that's all.
But I wasn't thinking about Misty this morning. The only thought that crossed my mind was, "My foot hurts!" and it did. Thank God that it was Friday and we didn't have practices on the weekends.
I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. Birds were chirping outside my window and I wondered vaguely why Aunt Storc didn't rouse me with her usual beating and yelling. I put on a pair of jeans and went downstairs to get a clean shirt from the washer.
"Drew, sweetie, would you come in here, please?"
Aunt Storc has never talked to me in such a sweet tone. The only time she uses that tone is when she wants to go shoot bunnies, or something. I was scared.
I entered the kitchen to find Aunt Storc serving oatmeal to a man sitting at the table and drinking coffee. The guest grinned from behind his coffee mug and his dark spiked hair and playful brown eyes suddenly revealed his identity to me: Noland.
"Sorry about his disheveled appearance," Aunt Storc apologized, eyeing me with distaste, "Don't know why boys these days find showing their underwear as fashionable."
Noland just smiled and ruffled my hair.
"Well, boys will be boys..." he said.
Aunt Storc threw Noland a withering look. Noland didn't notice; he was too busy staring at a large bruise on my arm.
"Where did you get that?" he asked, pointing to the bruise.
Aunt Storc narrowed her eyes at me, warning me with a wordless threat. I flinched and tore my gaze away from my Godfather.
"Oh, uh, Lucas hammered me with the soccer ball yesterday at practice," I lied, as Aunt Storc handed me one of my better shirts.
Noland looked like he wanted to press the question some more, but decided against it.
"What brings you here anyway?" I asked, pulling the shirt on over my head.
"The judge is allowing me to have you for the weekends," he said nonchalantly.
Were I not sore, I would have danced a jig.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" he continued. "Get your stuff."
And I did.
"STUPID...USELESS...THING!" I muttered under my breath as I frantically tried to pry my locker open. You see, my locker has an identity crisis; it thinks that it's a secret vault holding treasure instead of my beat-up old locker holding my beat-up old books. Drew was leaning against the locker next to mine. He already had his books. His locker doesn't have an identity crisis.
"Trouble in paradise, Lucas?" he asked.
I glared at him.
"What about you, huh?" I asked as I began my combination again. "I caught Misty talking to Gary yesterday. What's taking you so long, man?"
"Well you know," he stated, looking at me devilishly, "I'm looking for the cheapest motel to get her into."
My locker opened and delivered a powerful blow to Drew's head. I didn't mean for that to happen, but I congratulated my locker none-the-less.
"Shit, that hurt!" Drew cursed stumbling around the crowded hallway.
"Careful," I said, "don't want to end up with another scar on your forehead."
Drew fell off of his bike when we were kids and acquired a few jagged scars around his forehead. They’re very light, but still there.
"I guess I deserved it," Drew said, rubbing his nose. "Shouldn’t have joked about Misty like that. If she heard that, I would be minced right now."
"And you damn well should be!" I exclaimed, taking out my huge, enormous, colossal history book along with the newest issue of Motor Trend and a poptart. "Misty DOES NOT have a sex life. And I'll die from traumatization if anyone tells me otherwise."
Drew smiled vaguely and didn't make eye contact with me.
"He was a skater boy...She said see you later boy..."
My attention was turned away from Drew's odd behavior as Flint and Buck walked by bobbing their heads simultaneously as they sang that Avril Laviguine song. Nutters, both of them. Nutters? When did I start using that word?
The bell beeped and Drew and I went our separate ways. I walked into the history room and sat down next to Dawn. She was looking pretty again today. I mumbled my usual hello and began my poptart.
Mr. Pryce used a new approach for greeting us today. Instead of yelling at us, he simply walked in and held up a sign that had "SHUT UP!" scrawled upon it. Man's a friggin' genius. We were in the middle of class and I was in the middle of my magazine when Principal Rowan walked in with a book balanced on his head. It took Mr. Pryce several moments before he realized that Rowan was there and shut up.
"Yes?" he asked our elderly principal.
"I read in the newspaper this morning that balancing a book on your head improves your posture," Rowan replied, looking important.
"And...?" Mr. Pryce coaxed, obviously perturbed.
"And I've been balancing this book on my head all morning."
Rowan left then, leaving Mr. Pryce to stare at the door blankly. We heard him mumble something about retirement before he continued on with the lesson.
I was debating on whether I should finish my magazine or take my morning nap when Dawn flung a note at me. I could have died with shock. The only notes that Dawn ever writes in class are ones that actually have something to do with the lesson. If the fact that Dawn wrote a note would kill me, then what the note said would have killed my ghost.
Meet me in the janitor's closet third period.
I wanted to interrogate Dawn about her note, but the bell beeped and as I was trying to stay on her heels so I could talk to her in Geometry I got called to the office.
"Damn!" I cursed to myself as I watched Dawn disappear from my view. Why would Dawn want me to meet her in the janitor's closet? There was only one thing that students did in the janitor's closet, but could Dawn actually want to...? We didn't even really know each other; we were always around other people and went out in big groups. We probably only had two or three conversations to ourselves. Maybe Dawn was just horny? I laughed out loud at that as I came into the office.
Our office smells strongly of coffee. I heard Elvis playing faintly in the background and our three elderly secretaries were dancing on their desks with their arms in the air and whispering, "Chick-a-poo, chick-a-poo," over and over again. I cleared my voice. Finally one noticed me.
She jumped off of her desk (an incredible feat for someone her age) and grabbed a hold of my hands, placing one on her waist and holding the other out in front of us. We tangoed all the way to Rowan's office. She released me from her death grip when we got there and moon-walked back to her desk. I have a funny feeling that I'll be repeating this someday in the future therapy that I'll be needing.
"Ah, just the childhood friend that you wanted," said Rowan as I closed the door to his office. Sitting in front of his large desk was Misty. She had a cut on her forehead that the nurse had already patched up. Ness Bluebreeze was sitting next to her, squeezing her hand reassuringly.
"What happened?" I asked sitting down in the chair next to hers.
Misty just sighed and shook her head; she looked annoyed, as if she didn't want to talk about this with any of her friends. Vanessa rolled her eyes and sighed loudly.
"Misty got into a small fight with another girl," Rowan informed me. "Misty asked for you since she considers you as family. We tried looking for Misty’s older sisters, figuring that they're the ones in charge of looking after their youngest sister, but alas," he added, "we are unable to find them."
Lily Waterflower just fell out side of Rowan's window behind the desk. Rowan didn't even need to turn around. He sat at his desk, looking forward, hands folded, with a smile plastered on his face.
"Found them!" Rowan announced brightly. He turned in his chair and opened his window. I rushed over. Lily stood with her arms raised, screaming loudly. There was ink all over her designer Armani shirt and someone had written the word “Queen Bitch” on Lily’s arse. Looking up, I saw Violet Waterflower and the rest of their chemistry class (Ms. Prima included) on the floor above cheering loudly.
"YOU GOT INK ALL OVER MY SWEET HINEY, YOU BITCH!" Lily shrieked at her Chemistry class. Violet just gave her the finger.
"I see I have some work to do. You two have some hot chocolate and get things sorted out, and when Ms. Waterflower is better, everyone may go to back class."
Rowan smiled and patted both of us on our heads before exiting the room. I saw him do a sort of shuffle as the door closed.
"Hey, dorks! What are you two doing in Rowan's office anyway?" Violet asked, leaning in the window. "Misty, where did you get that cut on your forehead?"
None of us answered.
"Don't you two give me the silent treatment! I'm the oldest Waterflower in this school, and I demand to know..."
"Ms. Waterflower! I'm giving you two minutes to get into this classroom before I call your sister!" Ms Prima bellowed from above us. Rule one to being a student at Pallet High: Never get Daisy Waterflower involved.
Lily looked startled and stopped screaming.
Violet chewed on her lip and waved from the window "I'll deal with you two later! Anyone who messes with my sister messes with me...and occasionally Lily too, if she isn’t too busy making out with Morty – "
“That’s it, Violet! I’m going to rip your throat out and – ”
"Ms Waterflower! And Ms Waterflower!"
"Coming, oh big-breasted one!"
Violet shut the window and Lily sashayed back into the Science block to face Ms Prima. Then, there was silence.
I shook my head and sighed. Misty was already helping herself to some hot chocolate. I grabbed one of the complementary suckers on Rowan's desk instead. I wasn't good with those friend-to-friend talks and didn't know where to begin.
"So..." that's always a good way to start, "who did you get into a fight with?"
"Giselle Gapp," Misty replied, sipping her chocolate.
I froze, sucker halfway to my mouth.
"Sorry, wha?" I asked.
"Giselle Gap!" Vanessa butted in, seeming rather annoyed.
Here's my knowledge of Giselle Gap. She has a nice rack, she wears short skirts, she's the slutiest girl I know, she has a nice rack, she's the closest thing to a girlfriend that Gary Oak will ever have, she has a nice rack...
"What did you do to piss her off?" I asked, hoping that I didn't already know the answer.
"Just about the worse thing you could do to shove a stick up that girl’s ass" Ness said, drumming her fingers on the desk. She shot Misty a waspish look, which made her flush red and clench her jaw.
Misty started toying with her hot chocolate “What did I do wrong? I just said hi to Gary in the hall and then that whore started banging my head against my locker."
I winced, I had hoped that it wasn't that.
"Misty, I told you not to talk to Gary!"
"I'll talk to whoever the hell I want to talk to!"
"Fine!" I said throwing up my hands in defeat. Then I stormed out of Rowan's office, mamboed my way through the office, and stormed into geometry fifteen minutes late.
"Got called to the office," I explained to Ms Ivy as I took my seat next to Drew. Drew seemed to be having some problems. He was trying to draw a circle with his compass, unfortunately the compass moved and he got a spiral instead.
"Oh I give up!" he said at last, throwing his compass down upon his desk. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "So what did they need you in the office for?" he asked.
I was busy getting my homework out to hand in to Ivy.
"Misty got into a fight," I replied. "Rowan thought that she'd need moral support, and Lily Waterflower was busy trying to figure out who she hated more: the guy who invented carbs or Violet Waterflower."
"Long story about the Waterflowers, but they'll probably have detention after school."
Drew nodded in agreement.
"Listen, Drew. Giselle's after Misty. She knows that Misty is getting close to Gary."
Drew nodded again.
"You have to do something!" I said.
"Alright, alright!" Drew replied. "Is Misty coming to Vanessa Bluebreeze's party tonight?"
"I could make her," I suggested.
"Alright, I'll put some moves on her there. We'll work out the details in PE"
I nodded and started on my new assignment. But then I remembered Dawn's note. Third period. PE was third period.
"Uh, Drew, you'll have to do that with out me."
Drew looked up, confused.
"Well, I'm going to the janitor's closet."
Drew smiled slyly.
"Oh, the janitor's closet! So who's meeting you there? Your imaginary girlfriend?"
Drew's jawed dropped.
"No, there's no way that Dawn would skip a class and go to the janitor's closet, especially with you! No offense."
I showed him the note. He looked over to Dawn. Dawn smiled at me. I swallowed a huge lump in my throat.
"This isn't right," he said slowly.
"Why?" I asked him.
"Because, you and Dawn are almost always fighting, and I don't know!" he seemed frustrated.
The bell beeped.
"Have fun in PE!" I called over my shoulder as Dawn ran out of the room ahead of me.
"Have fun in the janitor's closet!" Drew shouted back much louder than I would have liked. Morty overheard and shouted out the same thing. I hoped he didn't tell Whitney – the whole school would know by lunch if he did.
I dropped my books off at my locker and tried to look casual as I slid into the janitor's closet just as the late bell beeped. She was there.
"Dawn!" I said with a devilish grin as I leaned in to kiss her.
She placed her hand over my mouth and smiled.
"I didn't come here for that," she said softly.
Lucas, you're an idiot! I thought to myself, mentally whacking myself on the head. Repeatedly.
"Oh," is what I actually said, plopping down to sit miserably on the floor. Dawn sat across from me.
"I wanted to talk to you about Misty Waterflower," she said.
"Misty? When did you two become friends?"
Dawn looked hurt.
"Since first grade," she said. "Don't you remember me spending the night at your house? Misty and I just didn't spend too much time with each other last year because we went to separate schools."
"Oh, yeah, I remember now," I said. The last time she spent the night, we were about thirteen and she kept grabbing my arm during that one movie... The Blair Witch Project. How could I forget about all those times? I guess we did spend a lot of time together. Only an ass like me would forget it.
"Listen," she continued, "Misty is developing a...thing...for Gary."
"Yeah, I know."
"Yeah, don't worry, I've got Drew on the job."
"On the job?" she asked, confused.
"Yeah, he's gonna flirt with her a little. Go out with her, keep her mind off of Gary. Drew’s the King of Flirt and the only one with enough nerve to stand a PMS-ing Misty – he's the only one who can do it."
"Lucas, do you think that this is a good idea?"
I thought that it was a friggin' brilliant idea.
"Why wouldn't it be?" I asked.
"Well, is Drew ok with this? Surely he doesn't want to spend a good long while carting the new girl in school around."
"He agreed right away."
"Really?" Dawn began smiling like a mad woman. "Aw, that's so sweet!"
"What, Drew taking care of a bipolar redhead?"
"No! Don't you see it, Lucas?"
This is what I saw: I saw a broom, a mop, a bucket, and Dawn. And that's all I saw.
Dawn grew impatient and blurted. "Drew has feelings for Misty!"
"WHAT?!" I forgot to keep my voice down. Luckily no one was outside. "No he isn't, he's just doing me a favor, that's all."
"Think about it Lucas! Would you agree so willingly to take a girl out just because someone asked you to?"
Dawn through her hands up and shook her head.
The bell beeped.
Noland seemed disappointed at first when I told him that I was going out the first night that I was staying over at his house, but then I told him everything about Misty and he became excited, giving me some dating tips.
"Be sure to hold the doors open for her. And always tell her that you love her smile. And, um, here."
He handed me some condoms.
"Err..." I stated. Noland and I talked a lot through out the years but we never actually discussed this topic. He wasn't making eye contact.
"I'm supposed to tell you to wait until you’re married and scare you with statistics but that's what school's for," he said rocking back and forth. "I would appreciate it if you would wait, but you know, just in case," he said trailing off.
"Thanks," I replied, throwing them into my nightstand drawer. "But I'm sure that I won't be needing them for awhile. I’m not a big fan of Hep. B."
"So are you ready?" he asked.
"Yeah," I replied. The Bluebreezes had a hot tub and a pool so I was wearing my trunks and a shirt.
"Alright then," Noland replied, whipping out the keys to his black convertible. "Let's go!"
See, I like to call myself a rebel. An anarchist in the making! See, one of my bestfriends, Dawn Pearl, once said that the best way to hide is the hide in plain sight. So, that’s exactly what I do – hide in plain sight. I wear the color pink. I ramble on about Brad Pitt’s abs. I take offense when people can’t tell the difference between Prada and Pravda (one’s a spawesome designer, and the other’s a Russian tool of propaganda, people!) But I’m no Lily Waterflower – at least I hope not.
Karl Marx once said anarchy is when people use stereotypes to contort and validate contradictions within the dysfunctional ruling class. That’s what I like to think I do. I topped my Math Class, for example. What kind of a cheerleading bimbo tops Math when most just assume Algebra’s a Greek island? Defying stereotypes to fight against bourgeois fascism, call 922-1803 for help NOW!
Me being an “indefinable rebel” was the reason why I decided to join the Soccer Team and kick male chauvinist *** – and probably was the same reason why I decided to host a party while my parents were off visiting Uncle George in San Francisco. I know that one of my pet peeves is drunken partying (I so do not want Hank MacMack slobbering over me like last time) but it was a spur of the moment thing, and hey, I’m a teenager – we’re designed to disappoint our parents. It’s our job.
Besides, I really needed to exploit the new Jacuzzi my parents got and I was getting sick and tired of playing Stepford Daughter to my mother’s mahjong group. I knew I shouldn’t have aced that English quiz – about time to play down the “nice Class Rep” image. It’s suffocating.
Anyway, after peddling a few lies to my departing parents that still made me feel incredibly guilty (“Yes, mother, I’ll get my hair done tomorrow.” “Yes, father, I won’t tip Rosita the maid more than I have to”), I immediately picked up the phone and invited Misty Waterflower over. She was new to school, and I had only known her for a few days but I liked her already. Mutually despising Lily Waterflower bonds people together. Misty, keeping to her word, was ringing the doorbell within minutes. I grinned and opened the door.
“Ness, your parents must be loaded. Your house – this is huge!” exclaimed Misty, her eyes gleaming like my mother’s after a sell at 17th Avenue. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
“I guess. Anyway, that’s not why we’re here. You came here because we need to discuss something of fundamental importance,” I said as Misty shot me a strange look. I grinned and put my hand on her shoulder. “Your love life.”
Instantaneously, Misty blushed red and started flailing her arms. “What do you mean? I have no love life, no sir, I don’t! W-W-What?! Stop talking nonsense!”
My grin widened. “Oh? So you just like staring at Drew Andrews and his hiney whenever you think no one’s looking. You know, just for kicks.”
Misty’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets. Ah, the poor girl. Perhaps I was pushing it too hard. What I didn’t expect her to do, however, was then throw me a smile so wicked, I shrank to return.
“I haven’t done anything to Drew that you wouldn’t have already done to Tracey Sketchit,” said Misty brightly. “Or should I say, Tracey BLUEBREEZE?”
I frowned and looked pointedly at the floor. Misty realized she hit the jackpot and pressed on: “So are you admitting that you and Tracey have “got it on”?”
“For your information, Tracey and I aren’t dating. I mean, I THINK he’s interested in me similarly to how I’m attracted to him, but that’s about it,” I confessed with a sigh. I avoided looking at Misty and began hiding away the more expensive wall furnishing for the party.
“Then, are you dating Gary Oak instead?”
When Misty asked me that question, I think I choked on my own spit. Was that even possible? Misty folded her arms and smirked again, inferring my inability to speak as an admission of guilt. “So, you are?”
“ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!” I screamed, causing my ears to ring with my own voice. Misty, instead of wincing, just smirked even harder. She waggled her eyebrows in such a suggestive way that my Great-Aunt Brutella would probably have a heart-attack if she were here. Not that I care about that beached whale.
“I – I mean, I hate that jerk! He’s the biggest, crabbiest, nastiest scumbag to have ever stepped inside this house!” I declared loudly. Gary Oak… was one of my mother’s favorite “potential suitors” for me. The only time she actually served tea was when that arrogant braggart was around. Gary was handsome, I suppose… but in a completely out-of-this-world, Nightmare on Elm Street kind of way. I would have to get my retinas checked the day I consider him nice on the eyes.
I gritted my teeth and whirled around to Misty, and in my most determined voice, said: “I will NEVER date or even consider Gary Oak, as long as I live!”
I was sure about it, wasn’t I?
End of Chapter Two