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Hawthorne
Jul 23, 2014 15:21:17 GMT -5
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Post by HburgEagle44 on Jul 23, 2014 15:21:17 GMT -5
aww so cute. Can I just say again? I love Chaz. And Felix is growing on me. And Noel, man. Noel.
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Post by tonilous on Jul 23, 2014 20:20:04 GMT -5
(Midnight. The morning of Purgatory.)
Adam stood in the silence, in the darkness. He stared up at the photographs, lit only by the flickering of the candles. Beyond the windows, he could hear the rumble of a sound that seemed akin to a shuttle launch. The Jefferson party must be in full swing. Everyone would be busy having fun there…all relaxed and enjoying themselves.
Leaving Adam to make his preparations.
"What…what are you talking about?" Adam stared at Felix, Danny, and Spencer, who had sat him down at the common room. "I…"
"Look, take it easy," Felix said with a smile. "We know you really like hanging around with Juliet. And we're really glad that you're making friends on campus."
"Yeah, you've been awfully alone," Spencer said. "We don't want anyone feeling like they're not wanted, okay? We just decided that it could be better if you had someone with you more often. Help you get more socialized?"
A hundred photographs? Two hundred? More?
They wallpapered everything—from floor, almost to the ceiling. All the same face. The smell of roses was heady in thick night air that fought to be cold from the outside, and warm inside because of all the candles.
Adam's hand shook slightly.
"We think it's great that you're close to Juliet, you really do seem to like her," said Danny. "But you can talk to us too. We're here for you too."
They were jealous, weren't they?
They can't stand the fact that he was spending so much time with the one girl a million people would kill to be looked at by. That dear perfection that no one truly knew. But it didn't matter to Adam if Juliet was a star or a student. There was so much more to her than that. She outshone everyone else even when she tried to be normal. That brightness was what Adam wanted to keep pure.
If they knew what Adam knew—if they saw her the way he did—they would never take him away from Juliet.
Adam was the only one who really knew her and understood her. Because Juliet spoke only to him. Trusted him. Loved him.
They were in love and he knew it. He knew it the moment he grabbed her hand at the fair. That everything he knew was right—Juliet Larson was in love with him. And he'd been calling out to her all this time. She was the one Adam had looked for all this time. And Juliet had been looking for him too.
Now that they were together, Adam wasn't going to let anything and anyone stand between them.
"So we've decided that you need a roommate, for starters," Felix said. When the prefect spoke, his word was law in Washington. Adam would have no doubts whatsoever that if Felix mandated it, it would happen. "Danny says he'd be glad to room with you and help out."
"Yeah," Danny smiled. "It'll be fun. Don't worry, I won't get in your way."
Of course he wouldn't. He couldn't. And he shouldn't.
But they were already trying to be in the way.
Adam picked up a letter—one of the many he'd already sent. If the Washingtons tried to keep him corralled, that would mean leaving Juliet alone to fend for herself. Alone with all the people who couldn't be bothered to notice how much she was hurting. How much she needed someone. How behind that beautiful mask of strength, she was so fragile.
So very breakable.
A stem of a rose snapped in his hands. Thorns bit flesh.
Red liquid dripped down.
"Adam?"
"Oh." The boy looked up and smiled. "Yes, I understand. Um…" he looked at them curiously. "Can I ask… why are you suddenly doing this?"
The boys looked at each other. And then Spencer said, "Well dude…more than one person pointed you out to us. We were starting to think that maybe you need a little more support from us, you know?"
"Yes," Felix nodded. "There are some people worried about you."
So.
Someone had told the Washingtons.
Adam closed his eyes, seeing the rose red flickering of the candles behind his closed lids. It was a really good thing that the list was a fairly short one. He was almost certain that everyone else found him universally unimpressive and uninteresting—so only those people could've possibly said something about him to the Washingtons.
That freak boy in the coat who kept snooping around. Noel. He overheard everything.
The diva in Jefferson who was so jealous of the fact that Juliet outshone her. Charlotte. She knows everything.
The brat girl who does nothing but whine and make a nuisance of herself. Laura. She never did learn how to mind her own business.
The arrogant jock who wanted to keep Juliet for his own. Derek. The way he looked at Adam was of disgust—so reminiscent of old days—
…and the great hindrance himself, the one who just simply will not get out of the way…the one who kept hurting Juliet again and again and again—Darren. Who doesn't deserve Juliet. Who is breaking her slowly here in what should be her sanctuary from the fakeness of the lights and the screaming fans.
"Is that all right with you, Adam?" Felix asked patiently. "Danny can move in as soon as Parent's Night is over."
Time was running out. The net was closing in. Maybe one of them told—maybe all of them told. They all were conspiring against him, that was clear now. He should have been more careful. He should've looked after himself more. But he couldn't help it—everything was for Juliet's sake. Adam didn't care about his own welfare—everything that mattered in this world was that girl in the photographs who laughed, smiled, and wept.
Unlike the rest of them. Hideous, contorted with their own darkness. Look at them—with all their fake expressions of kindness. Washingtons pretend to care, but they couldn't even see past the surface. What a farce. He knew all about that House—of the secrets in it. Everyone tried to pretend they were better than everyone else.
And all the rest of them in the school that were trying to keep him away. And now they were trying to stop him. All of them. All of them were trying to keep Juliet miserable because they were all miserable and they need to defile something pure. And he couldn't let that happen.
Blood will be shed.
Adam leaned forward and placed a kiss on a photograph almost reverently before shakily running his fingers over it. I profane with this unworthiest hand…
Adam smiled.
"Of course it is."
From where he stood, he could hear the muffled throb of music in the distant Jefferson House party that was ongoing. Two of the people—at least two—of his problems were in that house. And they weren't really going to stop until Adam was out of the picture. But he was the one who belonged here, and not them.
It was time to act. Remove them from the equation before they become a problem. One by one. Anyone who gets in the way. Anyone who tried to stop him. The game was over. It was time to declare a winner.
They knew that Juliet looked at him with love. They knew that Juliet relied so much on him. They were going to cut Adam off before Juliet really fell into his hands.
Well…
Adam raised the gleaming instrument into the flickering candlelight.
He would just have to cut them before they did it to him.
"Felix, I'm serious, I'm trying to make dinner—where did that big knife go?"
"I hardly cook, Merril, I don't know!"
He almost laughed when he heard that last night, as he was going up the stairs to his room to fume about how he was supposed to get anything done now that they assigned Danny to shadow him. Danny—the one who tries so hard. The one with the big secret. The one with the scars. The one who "tries to help everyone". The one who thinks he can control what Adam has planned. One of Felix's many, many suckups.
There was no time left. If he wanted to act, he had to do it now. He had to take Juliet away from them while he could. No matter who they were or what they did—if they were in the way of the future that he'd planned for himself and Juliet, they had to be put away.
Everyone really underestimated Adam. They don't know what he's capable of. They don't know what he does when he's pushed. They don't know what happens when they try and destroy his dreams.
Their dreams, Adam thought almost happily as he looked up at the smiling face in all the photographs. Him and Juliet.
We'll be happy soon, Juliet. You'll smile again. We'll be so so happy.
One last present for Juliet. And a little something for the Adams prefect who did nothing but crush him. Adam felt rage grow, remembering what Charlotte and Juliet had spoken about—the conversations he'd overheard and how all his instincts had pointed him to the right direction.
When he had cornered the other diva, Charlotte wouldn't say a word to him and he had not pushed for answers, but he knew. He didn't need it said to him by anyone. He just knew without a shadow of a doubt that Juliet loved her heartless best friend. She was being hypnotized by him. Her attention towards Darren was going to blind Juliet from realizing her obvious love for Adam.
Well then, "best friend"… You should have one last present too. Hopefully this time, it works.
Adam blew out the candles. Time was up.
Everything was ready.
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Post by tonilous on Jul 23, 2014 20:40:23 GMT -5
Purgatory (Part 2)
(Morning, Purgatory.)
Contrary to Charlie's expectations of complete and utter pandemonium that would lay waste to all the students in Jefferson and Washington (Adams was prudently not invited as there could've been bloodshed between the two warring Houses), all the students managed to hold back and retreated to their beds a little past one in the morning. The conspirators never made it upstairs—they lay like so many casualties amidst party debris in the common room, draped all over each other.
It was approximately seven am in the morning when Charlie stood over his dominion, glowered at the group of students snoring in the common room, took out two air horns and—
"Aaaaaaaaaaaah!"
"All right!" Charlie barked, clapping his hands. "Up! Everyone up! Now! Today's the day where we all face the music—let's get this cleaned up! Everyone! Move!" He sounded the air horns again and Grace scuttled behind the couch and dragged a couch pillow over her head.
"Chaz you're going to ruin our perfect pitch hearing and the Pipers will die!" Patrick yelled over the din as the others groaned.
"Charlie, god!" Charlotte snapped from the couch, suddenly popping up. "Cut it out, we're awake! Are you out of you mind? We're not animals! Turn the horns off!"
Instant silence.
Charlie stared in amazement at the Junior who just realized that she'd fallen asleep on the couch and was still in her clothes from night before and had completely overlooked her skin care regime. Clearly, the day was not starting out well for the diva, who was now looking at herself in horror and disgust.
The Twins immediately fled to get coffee as Grace cautiously shrank away from Charlotte. Damian slept on, completely unconscious.
"How…can he sleep through that…?" Diana demanded, staring at their friend.
Charlotte looked down at her boyfriend, who was curled up at a very large bean bag chair just by the couch where he lay, and shook him. "Damian? Damian." She shook him harder.
Damian groaned, disoriented, and rolled over—and slammed to the ground with a thud that made everyone, including his girlfriend, wince. "I'm okay!" he said, dusting himself off as he sat up. "I'm awake now."
"Better be…" Charlie grumbled. "All of you get up! Clean this up! You two—" he said to the Twins who just ran in each with three mugs in each hand, all of them nearly shoved to Charlotte, who gave them a glare that questioned their sanities, "—I don't want to even hear of you two pulling anything today, understand?"
And he turned heel and went out of the room. They could hear him blasting the air horns upstairs, waking all the other students up. Charlotte shook her head, rolling her eyes. This wasn't a good way to start the morning.
Damian blinked. "…what did he say?"
Patrick looked at his friend in confusion. "He was standing right there, you didn't hear him?"
Damian stared at Patrick. "Your lips are moving but I don't hear…anything. Other than me."
Everyone stared. Noel narrowed his eyes suspiciously and cautiously raised a water sprayer. Charlotte shot him a warning look, and then spotted the Twins smiling angelically.
Which was never a good sign.
Charlotte immediately grabbed Damian and looked up over, and then saw something odd. Frowning and looking a little bit disgusted, she said, "…what is—?" She prodded a finger into the pink stuff in Damian's ear and jerked back in horror when it stretched out.
"You stuffed bubblegum in his ears while he was asleep?" Grace cried as Patrick and Diana collapsed into hysterical laughter as Charlotte frantically tried to remove the stuff from her fingers and Damian tried to clear out his ears.
The Twins whooped with joy at their first prank of the day—single-mindedly determined to be a part of the most memorable Parents' Night ever. Diana got up, shaking her head, still laughing. "Those two are going to be trouble."
"Can you blame them? They won the duet," Damian successfully brought one ear back to the hearing world.
"And like there was anyone who can beat you and Charlotte? Especially since Grace backed out and Darren not present in the duel?" Patrick grinned, clapping his hands on Charlotte and Damian's shoulders.
Grace just sighed and shook her head. "Even if I fought for the part, there was no way I was beating Charlotte after she sang that song from Bare. Even I totally cried!" She laughed.
Charlotte smirked at her best friend before looking back at Damian, who had successfully cleared out his ears. "You all right?"
"Yeah," Damian grinned. "I'm used to the Twins." He looked to the others. "Well guys, the day's finally here. Let's make the most of it before the parentals get here, yeah?"
Patrick seemed to sigh and nodded. "Yep, I got it."
"Let's go!" Diana nodded.
"I'm gonna go get ready, then," Grace smiled, heading upstairs. "Damian, could you please tell Mr. Pentland and Miss Gregor that—"
"No, I'm guessing they know where a lot of your efforts are going, Grace," Damian smiled as the little artist grinned. "Miss Gregor goes to see your exhibit every year, after all." He now looked to his girlfriend. "So we're singing lead. You want to go get ready?"
Charlotte just smiled patiently at her boyfriend. "Damian? I am not going anywhere in this state." She gestured with mild disgust at her slept in state. Damian laughed and nodded, squeezing her hands. "All right, then—let's go get ready to head out to the Pipers."
Charlotte smiled as her boyfriend grabbed her hand in the way that she was so used to and towed her out of the common room. The morning of Purgatory brought with it a sense of finality—whatever happens will happen. There's no turning back now and that was how it really felt for everyone. Charlotte realized that the terrible feeling she'd had before had been pushed down by it. The new morning brought a fresh sense of safety with it.
Maybe she had been worrying over nothing. There were bigger things to deal with, like the fact that she was about to have what must be a showdown with Damian's father, and the difficult situation that she was going to make tonight. She didn't put it past the McGinty patriarch to not make a scene—if he was anything like Darren's father, there was going to be trouble for sure. As she stared at Damian, she wondered if it would be a wise idea to tell him about it now that there was apparently nothing to worry about. Maybe he'll find it funny, or maybe he'll say something that would ease her mind about it.
Finally, Charlotte decided against it for the time being. She could feel by the clasp of Damian's hands that he was still worried about her. She set her mouth to a firm line. No, she wouldn't tell Damian right now. She had to focus on delivering an excellent performance first, and deal with Mr. McGinty if things came to a head. She'll worry about Juliet and stalker issues later.
Besides…with all the people around tonight, no one would be able to do anything.
-8-
Jefferson House was jumping with preparation—all the students making a whole lot of noise as they struggled to get everything ready. While Charlie tried to tell Drew and Satoru that no, he didn't care how "cool" they think it would be, he wanted to make it absolutely clear that no one was to be allowed to get into that TARDIS that they had apparently invented and then have it switched on. Whether it worked or spontaneously combusted, he was not interested in finding out.
While he was debating on allowing the Sonic Screwdriver, the Twins passed by behind him with armfuls of flowers that no one quite saw the purpose for just yet. They made a direct line to Noel's room, and as they approached, they could hear music. Puzzled, they slowed their walk, creeping stealthily to listen at the slightly open door and realized that Eye of the Tiger was blasting in there.
And, of course, there Noel was, under the mistaken impression that no one would see, hear, or really be bothered enough to look—as he rocked out to it while lip-synching the song.
The Twins watched in puzzled amusement as Noel cut loose on his bead, grooving exuberantly to the music and playing air guitar with his leg like the best of them.
He was obviously oblivious as the music raged on, even when the Twins finally opened the door, watching him in deep amusement as they leaned by the doorway. They let him bounce around a little longer until they both decided to put him out of misery and cleared their throats.
Noel froze mid jump with wide eyes and fell off his bed with a crash.
"So…we were wondering…" Lucas said nonchalantly, as though he ruined people's lives on a daily basis by exposing their personal eccentricities that involved ancient rock bands and pop culture phenomenon, "Why do you have to lip-synch?"
"It's not like we don't already know that your pipes aren't all that bad at all," Logan agreed, nodding. "This isn't the first time you've done this, right?"
"Will you just shut—!" All red in the face, Noel got up and glared at them, weapons aimed. "What do you want? And don't you dare cross that salt line!" he yelled as Logan's toes rested just behind the thick helping of salt on the doorway of his room.
Lucas grinned. "Are you sure you don't want to treat the rest of the dorm to your performance? Because really—"
"I will count to ten and I will shoot if you don't tell me what you're here for right now!"
"There's a talking flower waiting for you downstairs," both Twins chorused happily.
Noel sighed and lowered his water sprayer. "Why can't you just say that there's a girl waiting for me downstairs?" And he grabbed his coat and pushed past the two of them as he went on outside.
"Wait wait!" The Twins happily pursued him as he hurried down the hall. "Why is little Bancroft trying to get a hold of you? Are you both an item? Because we think that no matter how much the White Queen has changed, he's not above eviscerating people who flirt with his baby sister."
"Only sister," Logan added with a smile. "A sentiment that we totally understand."
"Don't the two of you have a microwave you can play in…?" Noel grumbled as he jogged down the stairs.
"Hey Knight!" the Twins yelled from the rail just as Noel reached the landing.
"What?"
"The Caterpillar has what you want. He says that you should come see him when you can."
Noel stopped and stared. He seemed to think a moment, then he said, "Did he show you what it was?"
"Yes," the Twins replied. Lucas glanced at his brother and then down at Noel again. "But we're not exactly sure of what we saw. And neither was he."
"All right. All right, I'll see him later." Noel hurried out and went the door. The Twins eyed each other, wondering what Noel was keeping from them.
Laura Bancroft was sitting at the steps—she was wearing an outfit that would send Charlotte and Grace screaming by the sheer amount of bold colors as even Noel decided that she must like to dress blindfolded. Her pigtails whipped around as she looked up to see him and she leapt to his feet. "Hey!"
"What is it?" he frowned.
"Well you're not brushing me off, clearly you must have found something," Laura replied, staring at him. "Did you talk to Charlotte like I told you?"
"I don't take orders from little girls."
"Stop calling me that!" Laura stamped her foot and glowered at him. "Did you find anything about Adam—"
"Shh!" Noel clapped a hand over her mouth and dragged her off, taking her away from the house and from the range on any eavesdroppers as he looked wildly around to make sure that no one had heard. He pulled her all the way by the magnolia garden that some OCD Jefferson once ripped up entirely because of the irregular way the magnolias had all been planted.
"Okay." Noel released her, staring. "Look. Maybe I believe you."
"What changed your mind?" Laura asked.
"Let's just say I ran into him and I've seen gentler eyes on Hannibal Lecter. I really felt like he was going to…I don't know…" Noel hesitated. He was the last person to judge someone based on behavior seeing as how demented he himself was but… "…I don't know. It just… scared me."
"I know." Laura swallowed and looked at him, looking worried. "I came here because I was scared…and Felix won't believe me."
"What happened?"
"Because my mom and dad pulled some leverage, I stay in Washington. I'm staying with Merril Portman."
"Oh I know Merril. She's nice."
"Yes, I know. But it's just that this morning…" Laura looked around, as though checking again to make sure that they weren't overheard. "This morning…he suddenly came at me at the hall. And…he said something to me. He said that it…it wasn't safe for me to keep doing what I was doing. He wasn't saying details…but I think he said…that tonight's a big night. And that I had to keep out of the way so things can go…smoothly."
Laura sighed. "I know it sounds insane, but he's never done that before. And it was the way he said it. He had me backed to a wall and if Danny Abbot hadn't showed up…"
Noel glanced away, brow furrowed and thinking. He was targeting Laura…? And he didn't come at people so directly before. Tonight's the big night… Did he mean Parents' Night or…?
"Laura. Are his parents coming?"
"No…I—I think I heard him tell Spencer that his parents aren't coming in from Arizona but they send their well wishes or something."
"So it's not Parents' Night…" Noel muttered, still deep in thought.
Laura looked at him, looking a little scared. "Noel—there's something else. I got really thirsty last night and I went downstairs. I went to the kitchen, and I—I happened to look at the knife block and remembered that Merril said something about one of the kitchen knives in Washington going missing. Anyway…I heard the back door open and I hid in the hall. I swear…I saw him. It was Adam. He'd been out really late, way past lights out—I don't know what he was doing out there, but he found his way in the dark so easily that I'm sure he's done this before. And he was holding something. It caught the light and looked silver, but I don't know."
"We need proof." Noel suddenly said, looking up. He remembered the look everyone gave him. They'd never believe him and a girl with an overactive imagination. "No one will believe us unless we get confirmation."
"Confirmation…" Laura blinked. "Are you…are you sure, then?"
"No…I'm not…" Noel replied, face grave. "All we have so far is pretty much just speculation and we don't have anything to show for it. No one will believe us; we're both not credible, and Adam's been a veritable angel as far as I hear."
"What did Charlotte say?" Laura asked.
"I haven't spoken to Charlotte, but she went to Washington House yesterday—I saw her with Felix and I heard the others say that when Patrick and Danny left Washington with him."
Laura blanched so fast that Noel thought she was a having a seizure. "What?" he demanded.
"No, no she shouldn't have come!" Laura hissed, eyes wide and looking afraid. "Felix just issued a command that Danny's supposed to move into Adam's room after tonight, and that he should keep a bit of a better eye on him. Look—inside, Washington is just like any other House, I think. Everyone talks to everyone else. As it is, I'm pretty sure Adam sees Charlotte as a threat already. He wouldn't have cornered her for a little "chat" if he didn't."
"If he finds out Charlotte was the one who warned the prefect…" Noel took a deep breath. "Then Charlotte's in trouble too. Deep trouble."
"We need proof. We need proof that this guy is dangerous," Laura agreed. "And we have to do it fast, Noel. If he's doing something tonight, we don't have time."
The two of them fell silent for a moment. Then Noel looked up. "You're in Washington, right? So…do you think can get a hold of the spare key to Adam's room? If he has anything suspicious, he'd hide it there."
"I…I don't know, Spencer holds the spare keys. And he's with Felix a lot—I'd have to steal it and Felix's too good—because he used to be good at lifting things too."
Noel shook his head gravely. "We have to try. Can you scope it out, try to see how we can possibly get in?"
"Okay," Laura nodded. "And what about you?"
"I'm following him if I can. And I have to see a friend about a video." He looked up at the third floor of Jefferson House, hoping that it wasn't quite too late. The day's just begun.
They had a chance. But the clock was ticking.
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Post by barbt on Jul 23, 2014 21:14:50 GMT -5
I would have to go on vacation right now! Just when everything's speeding up! Oh well, I'll be able to read it all at once when I get back!
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Post by tonilous on Jul 23, 2014 21:26:33 GMT -5
Classes were out all day—there was no point, even the teachers were off guiding the student groups and clubs that they were in charge of. The last wave of frenzied preparations was being done for Parents' Night and the pressure triplicated in intensity. It didn't help that nearly all the students were receiving calls from their parents who were trying to a get a hold of them to confirm the engagement for tonight.
As if they didn't already have enough pressure.
The day crept on, and Grace trudged out of the Art Hall looking exhausted and just a little bit dusty. If her mother expected anything, it would have to be the best. Grace's name happened to be one of the highlights of the program for Parents' Night and she had barely spent any time away from the Art Hall. Everything in the hall was neat and the Art Club was still in there trying to put order in the chaos—they had filled the halls with beautiful candles on ancient candelabra, put up elegant drapes, trying to put on a Venetian masquerade kind of air.
That, of course meant a lot more trouble for Grace, who had to find stepladders and other such things just to reach up and get everything pinned high up there. After very nearly completely destroying three of her paintings, she gave up and decided to go out for some air. She helped put away all the paints into the supply rooms and stepped out.
She hadn't gone more than a few steps down the Art Hall front entrance when she saw someone tall waiting at the bottom. Someone who she certainly didn't expect.
Minah Randall looked up from her book, pulled away her gold rimmed glasses, and smiled. "Hello, Grace."
Grace froze on the spot, painfully aware that she looked like a mess. "Oh…hi. Hello, Minah."
The taller girl smiled as she closed her book and put it in her messenger bag. As soon as Grace reached her, she held out a handkerchief to her. "Here. You can use this for the paint. You look tired."
"Th-thank you…" Grace was quite frankly startled by this completely out-of-left-field display of kindness from the girl who hadn't really spoken more than a few words to her. She stared up at her, hands holding the handkerchief but not quite prepared to soil it by wiping away the paint with it. "Uh…are you…waiting for someone? Is Shane here…?"
"No on both questions…" Minah replied in a soft tone. "…I'm here to see you."
Grace blanched. "…me?"
"Yes," Minah nodded. She looked a little serious now. "I think our talk is a little overdue."
Grace swallowed. She didn't know what was going on but the last thing she needed to do now was speak to Shane's ex—or probably currently his girlfriend. She just wasn't prepared to face-off against this girl who has so much power over Shane even after a full year of disappearance. And not at this hour of the morning when she didn't even have her coffee yet.
She shook her head. "…I…I don't think it is. I really… I really have nothing to do with this. Not anymore." She ducked her head and made to walk past, but Minah gently held her shoulder to stop her.
"Yes you do. It's Shane, so you have something to do with him. And you and I have to talk." Minah looked at her with a steady expression.
"I—" Grace stammered, staring up at the other girl, who was now rubbing her glasses with a soft cloth to clean them before slipping them back on. Minah sighed.
"If we don't talk about this now, Grace, I wouldn't feel right about it. We settle this here. Now."
That was already crushing in itself. 'Wouldn't feel right about it', she said, Grace thought miserably as she just nodded and followed the other girl away from the Art Hall, heading towards one of the grassy areas by the trees. A small wood bench stood under the shade of some poplar trees, and Minah led Grace to it. Grace studied the other girl, seeing her as her exact opposite.
Minah was tall, and had good looks and a calm air around her. She made no excess movement. She was careful and precise. In contrast, Grace was small and awkward, and could barely go into a room without breaking something.
Lost in thought, her foot snagged on a tree root and she yelped as she flew forward. There was a powerful tug behind her as someone grabbed the back of her blazer just as her nose was inches from the ground.
"Are you okay?" Minah asked with marked concern, pulling her back to her feet with little effort. "Shane said you had…some coordination problems."
"He downplays." Grace snorted, bright crimson and dusting herself off. Yes, because displays of weakness in front of the competition was definitely a good idea. But Minah only helped her dust off, and then smiled and kept walking. Grace looked at her, embarrassed. "Shane told you I was a klutz?"
"He talks about you all the time," Minah said patiently as she gestured towards the bench. "I can tell you weigh in his mind a great deal. And he tries not to around me, but I can tell he has difficulty."
"So…about me and Shane, you…" Grace turned red again as she sat down. "Not that—not that we're actually anything—but—"
"Yes, I know about you and Shane," Minah murmured as she carefully opened her bag and sat. She took out a thermos of coffee and a cup, and started pouring some. "I suppose you could say I knew that there was something between you and Shane the moment I saw you two holding hands last Valentines' Day."
Grace turned rigid, fists clenching. "So you…knew. That…there was me involved too."
"Yes, I did. It wasn't hard to tell."
"And you just…carried on."
"I thought it was the best course of action."
Grace was livid. So Minah knew. Minah always knew. And she had been with Shane all this time, getting all his attention and driving Grace crazy with the smiles and the looks—she knew every moment that she was with Shane that Grace was somewhere in the background going insane—she knew! She just knew! And she kept Shane away anyway! And now Grace was going to lose him—she wants to "settle" this—because she was going to take Shane just like that—like she could just walk in and—
"You think it's really going to be that easy?"
Minah looked up from mid sip of her coffee. "…pardon me?"
Grace leapt to her feet, and she felt her face flush—her heart was racing and her breath was coming short. She had never been all that angry in her entire life but now she couldn't stop. She clenched her fists, "I'm not—I'm not going to stand here and watch anymore. I don't want to. I haven't—I haven't asked for a lot of things in my life, but I'm going to fight for this! You're not taking Shane just when I got him back! You can't just come back here and ruin everything! I won't let you!"
"Grace—" Minah began, getting up.
"No!" Grace practically yelled, clearly going too far to stop. "How can you just come back? All right fine—maybe you were there first, and maybe technically you two never broke up—but you went away! You went away and you were never heard from again! And Shane was really sad—and he moved on! He did his best to! And then he—" Grace choked. "And then he found me! And I didn't ask him to like me but he did! He really did—from the moment he saw me!"
She tried to catch her breath and stared up at Minah, who could only stare at her. "He was silly and he was just a little reckless and he was just—insane—and he wouldn't leave me alone even when I wasn't ready for his attention—and he…he…" she swallowed, finding the words, "He waited, he didn't let go, he looked after me and he protected me…and he made me smile, and laugh and feel like I was a real person…and he never quit not even after that accident…no, he never quit…I was the first one he wanted…it was me…"
"Grace…" Minah sighed.
"No!" Grace glared at her—and failed, to emotionally shaken. She felt tears sting her eyes as she glared up at the girl in the glasses. "He chose me, Minah! I barely—I barely had a say in this! I didn't expect this to happen to me ever. I've never ever had anything like this in my life and I never ever thought I even deserved it. But it's different now. I can't let you be in the way and I don't care if you were there first! I don't—I don't want to lose Shane. I can't. I can't lose Shane. I just…can't."
She finally stopped, swallowing as she tried to catch her breath. All throughout this outburst, Minah just stood, looking at her with an odd expression. It looked like sympathy. Like she knew everything that Grace said. As though she absorbed the full brunt of Grace's emotions and simply listened.
Grace stood, staring at her with eyes reddening as he choked back a sob, waiting for a response that didn't seem to come. "…say something."
Minah gave her a small smile in answer. "…do you feel better now?"
"Yes," Grace choked, nodding. "Lots. Oh god…" Grace sank back onto the bench, burying her face in her hands. "I can't believe I just did that."
"I can't believe you didn't do that sooner," Minah replied as she took out another cup from her bag and poured coffee into it. She held it out carefully to her. "And, well, that's the problem, isn't it? There are times where it's best let it out." The smile looked kind, if not a little tired.
Grace gave her a look of thanks and accepted the warm cup of coffee held out to her, and she sighed where she sat. Minah sat unobtrusively next to her, and for a moment, they were quiet, with only the light chirp of a couple of birds overhead. The sun was warming them through the trees.
Staring down at the cup of dark liquid, Grace whispered, "…do you love Shane, Minah? I mean…" she glanced at her, "…do you still love him?"
Minah seemed to find this a little amusing, not looking at her. The dappled sunlight gleamed a little off the gold rims of her glasses. "Yes."
"…Oh." Well. She figured as much anyway. Who wouldn't love Shane? That oddball had a way of forcibly endearing himself to you when he set his mind to winning you over…
The tall girl never lost her smile as she looked down at the curly-haired junior next to her. "And you, Grace? Do you love Shane?"
Grace stared up at the sky a moment, wondering at that question the way she had for quite a while now, in spite of already knowing the answer. It never hurt to double check, or triple check, on this sort of thing.
And then smiled a little back up at Minah.
"Yes. I really do." She felt the tears climb up to her eyes again. "I love Shane, Minah."
Minah smiled at her and looked back ahead with a small sigh. "…I know you do. ...and I know I don't stand a chance."
Grace looked up at her. "What do you mean?"
There was a sad resignation in Minah's tone. "…it's the problem with waiting it out, you know. When you're scared…when you're too afraid to do something or say something at a time when you should…if you just let the tide take you, you lose your chance. You lose the chance. And…then you'll just find one day that it was too late."
Minah stared at the cup in her hands. She tried to smile but she couldn't when she tried. "…I never stopped loving Shane, Grace. Not even after his dad kicked me out…not even after my parents sent me away. I've been gone for a long time, Grace. But not a day passed when I didn't think about the people I left behind. …when I didn't think about Shane… and how it must've…it must've killed him… Because knowing that guy, he would be thinking it was all his fault. Beating himself up when the truth is…" And now she looked at Grace with tired eyes—eyes that must've cried so hard before, so much that she was out of tears. "I was the one that let it happen."
Grace stared back at her, confused, shaking her head a little. "…what…?"
"It takes two to make a mistake that we made that night when his dad threw me out. I knew it was a bad idea, but I went along with it. And in the aftermath…I could've said no. I could've spoken out. To my parents, to Mr. McGinty. I could've told them that I loved Shane so much that I could stand him hating me, I could stand him ignoring me—I could stand anything." She looked at Grace. "…including watching falling in love with someone else."
Grace looked at Minah, crestfallen. "…Oh…Minah, I—"
Minah shook her head. "I could've come. Any time, I could've bought a bus ticket or a plane ticket something and come back. I could have found a way to come back and find Shane and tell him how much he meant to me and how it wasn't his fault. I could. If I really wanted to, I could. But I didn't. I thought this was—things were better this way. That whole time, Grace—all of that time in my hands—I didn't do anything. I kept quiet. I let it happen, thinking it would be easier to be quiet and take it. And it…" he laughed without mirth. "…it freaking sucked. …it took a school trip to San Francisco and getting the one in a million shot of running into Erin and Becca again—it took someone else doing the work for me to get me to come back here. I had to hear about him nearly dying on some freak accident before I acted." She lowered her eyes. "…and of course by then…when I finally came here…it was too late."
She looked at Grace. "The chance was gone."
The shorter girl looked away, not really knowing what to say. Minah looked her over and said, "…do you know…what he said to me when I told him I still loved him after all this time?"
Grace glanced at her, almost afraid of what she would say, almost daring to hope.
"…he said that he loves me too…that he always had and always will."
Grace winced, as though the words physically hurt to hear. Minah paused, and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath that only trembled so slightly as the tears slipped out from beneath her eyelids, matting her lashes.
"…but he said…" her breath caught. "He said that he was so sorry…that it broke his heart to tell me this and he never ever meant to hurt me, but…he just loves you more."
Grace buried her face in her hands and burst into tears.
-8-
Darren was glaring at his two friends, both of whom were sitting in Juliet's room looking as though they'd been stunned. They stared at him from where they sat—Juliet sitting on her bed, Derek sitting on a chair in front of him—and Darren continued to look angry.
"What is wrong with the two of you?" he demanded. "I'm not an idiot and you don't have to treat me like one. You've been keeping something from me, the both of you." He looked at Juliet. "You don't think I notice that you only ever allow Derek near you? That you're losing weight and haven't been sleeping? And you!" he turned that deadly gaze at Derek. "You can tell to her and all the rest of the world when I act up, when something is wrong with me, but you can't bring yourself to even tell me what's going on?"
If one got right down to it, to the barest and most vital technicalities, the three of them were still best friends. They were the ones who had been friends from the moment they all met at Freshman Orientation more than three years ago, and they were inseparable ever since, even when Juliet frequently left to go to work. They went to each other's houses in the summers and holidays, and they knew every eccentricity and quirk they had. Darren knew that Juliet has a fascination with the rain and that Derek went crazy if his books were messed up from the Dewey-Decimal system. Derek knew that Darren tried to blowtorch barbecue and that Juliet kept stealing Darren's iPod. And Juliet knew where Derek kept his four little black books and that Darren's apparent "ice heart" knew how to break to pieces.
They knew each other.
Or so they imagined.
To be honest, Derek could say that this was the biggest display of open friendship that Darren had shown yet—because he really looked angry and unhappy about what was going on and he wasn't afraid to scream it out for all of Adams House to hear—that he was effectively being blocked out of the trio that had once been, and still is, so close.
And to Darren, it was treason. He had been left behind before, by family, and people have turned against him for one reason or another. Whether it was his fault or not, it had happened. The only constants in his life were Derek and Juliet now—the two people he thought he could count on.
And now they were pulling away.
"If you have a problem with me, just tell me!" Darren yelled.
The Adams students in the hall—all preparing for the big night as well—made themselves scarce, sensing the telltale signs. No one wanted to get hit by crossfire. Thad, arms full of the dry-cleaned suits that some of the students had previously sent out, frowned and shook his head in disapproval as he left the hall with Louisa. Marcus, Cy, and Lorraine, sensing danger, grabbed their books and fled.
But Bailey stayed in the hall, lowering her headphones.
"Darren…stop yelling," Derek said softly.
"You don't get to tell me what to do right now, Derek." Darren snarled as he took a step into the room.
"Get out of my room." Juliet wasn't looking at Darren anymore. She was staring at the ground and didn't move a muscle. Darren stared at her in disbelief. "What?"
"Get. Out. Of my room." Juliet said in a steady, firm tone. "Or I will make you."
Color soared to Darren's face. He took another step towards Juliet and Derek immediately flew at him. "Okay stop! Stop!" he commanded, glaring, keeping hold of his arms. "Look, you're not allowed to flip out now. You are not. I know you've been miserable and you've been unhappy about everything that's been going on, but you don't get to take it out on Juliet right now—you don't." He dropped his voice. "Go back to your room, take your meds. I'll come over in a second. And I will explain."
Juliet's eyes flew to him even if her body didn't move. Derek glanced back, glared at her, and then looked back to Darren. "I will explain as best as I can. Just don't flip out now. You've been doing okay on your temper, Darren, don't mess this up. It's not the time."
Darren glared down at him and then looked at Juliet. Juliet raised her eyes to him briefly—Darren saw nothing there, only the perfect mask that Juliet had mastered over the years—and then the actress turned away. Darren looked back down on Derek. "So you're taking her side?"
This was the problem Derek did not want—being caught between one friend and another. He glared at Darren. "I'm not taking sides Darren." He glanced back to Juliet. "If anything, I told her to tell you."
"Tell me what?" Darren hissed.
"Derek!" Juliet leapt to her feet, frowning at Derek now—and there was that desperate glint in her eyes.
Derek glared back at her as though to tell her to shut up and at the same time reassure her that he still had her back. The varsity captain now looked to the Adams Prefect. "Go, Darren. Just go, do like I told you."
For a long moment, Darren stood in that doorway, staring down at Juliet, who looked fearlessly back at him the way she always did. And for a moment, Darren thought she could see something there—as though the mask was cracking.
Juliet was still his friend, no matter what they said or did to each other. And when he looked at Juliet now, he could see the strain on his friend. Something was happening to her and whatever it was, it was eating at her and taking a toll. She wasn't even yelling back or arguing. She was just standing there, using all she had to stay up.
"Why won't you just tell me?" Darren asked in a tone unlike all the ones he used before. It reminded them all of the days when it was still just the three of them.
Juliet swallowed, staring at him intently, determined to keep herself up. She looked back at Darren and glared. "…you don't get to suddenly pretend like you care."
Out of everything said before, that cut Darren. And when Darren was cut, he cut back. He cared, he really did and it wasn't often that he did and he didn't care about a lot of other people apart from himself, but if Juliet was just going to spit in his face—
He glanced at Derek with venom in his eyes. "Let her wallow in self-pity." The prefect turned heel and strode off, furious, heading to his room. Bailey stood back and made sure to avoid his wrath, staring at him. "Get out of here, Tipton!" Darren snarled as he headed to the anteroom. Caruso chirped, agitated by his fury, and the door slammed shut.
Derek looked out the door, made sure he was gone, and then turned around and pushed the door closed before going to Juliet. He grabbed her by the arms and shook her. "Are you all right? Are you going to be all right?"
"Get out of here and make sure he's fine."
"I'm not going anywhere until I'm sure you are too." Derek glared. "You're white as a sheet." He immediately moved away and looked back to Juliet's window. He strode to it and pulled away the curtain.
Sitting on the pane—out of sight from Darren when he almost came in—was another present. A small ball of flowers, roses, was dangling over the door, with a note pinned to it, written in dark red liquid.
It said, Don't worry. You made the right choice to stay. It'll be over soon. I'll protect you from them.
That in itself was enough, but it wasn't as bad as what was lying at Derek's feet, having fallen there when Juliet had dropped it.
It was another photograph… but this was different. Even Derek's hands shook as he picked it up.
It came from an old Hawthorne Academy yearbook, and one of the photos of Juliet in school that was also in her fan galleries online. This photograph had Juliet, Darren, and Derek in it. But the difference now was that only Juliet remained unharmed, smiling. Derek's face had been scratched out. But Darren…
Darren's face had been viciously torn out.
Derek took a deep breath and Juliet sank her face into her hands, shaking. "D…" she whispered. "D, I have to leave. I have to. I was wrong. You were right, I was wrong. I have to leave; I have to get out of here." She took a breath. "They're going to get to you and Darren and—"
"Hey!" Derek grabbed her arm, glaring at her. "Stop! Nothing is going to happen to us, understand? It's just some sick fan." But even he was a little white in the face. He sat Juliet down and started trying to clean up. "As far as I'm concerned, let them come and try. Darren and I will be happy to end this little freakshow of theirs."
He picked up the ball of flowers again and without warning, a cascade of red dripped out of them and into his hands, onto the floor. He cursed under his breath, dropping the "gift." "What the f—"
Juliet got up and went to him, heart pounding as she grabbed some tissues to wipe away the mess. "Get out of here. Go get Darren, tell him to go to Pipers' Hall. Just make sure he's out and okay. Keep an eye on each other."
"What about you?" Derek asked, torn and alarmed. "If that psycho has someone helping out in here, you can't trust anyone."
Bailey walked into the room, looking pale and breathless, heart pounding. "I can keep an eye on him."
The two of them jumped and turned around. "Tipton, what are you doing here?" Derek demanded.
"We're all Adams, right?" Bailey choked. She had a rag in her hands. "I'm here to help. Let me help."
"How much do you know?" Juliet demanded, getting up.
"I know that you're in love with Darren."
"Son of a—" Juliet kicked a chair furiously. "Freaking everyone knows except for him? Derek—this is really bad! Is Darren's head made of concrete?"
"No—no, I overheard you! You and Derek in the hall way back around Valentines." Bailey moved forward, hands up. "I didn't say a word to anyone. And I overheard just now that you've got some psycho fan. And you're worried about Derek and Darren. I—I can't really do much, but I can promise not to tell!" she quickly said as Juliet advanced on her with intention to hurt. "I won't tell. I swear. And I get it, you know? Trying to do damage control and keep panic from going out and trying to keep crazy people from going crazier. Just—just let me help. Because—because you're not supposed to be doing this all by yourselves!" She stared at them, looking pale and worried.
Derek and Juliet looked at each other, then at Bailey. Bailey stared back, opening her arms a little. "Come on! You guys need help, you know it."
"Darren's going to be so pissed if he finds out we let Tipton help and not him," Derek grumbled.
Bailey took this as approval and immediately moved to Juliet, helping her clean up the bloody mess on her floor. Derek glanced back at his best friend. Juliet looked back at him, swallowed and nodded. "Go on, get out of here! Get Darren out to practice! Make sure he's not alone."
As Derek fled, Juliet looked at Bailey. "Shouldn't you be in Pipers' practice too, Tipton?"
"Well, I was on my way until I heard the scream fest going on here from Darren," Bailey replied, making sure that no trace of the blood remained on the floor.
"Yeah, and I bet you think I'm an idiot for liking him," Juliet muttered as she gingerly dropped the ball of roses into the wastebasket.
"Not really," Bailey replied as she also went to throw the waste paper into the trash can. "I seriously question your taste in men, but hey, to each his own—I'm sure you must have some reason."
Juliet rolled her eyes a little. There really were times when even she didn't know why Darren mattered so much to her when all the blond was ever interested in was the diva from Jefferson. It was strange how he and Charlotte got mildly along—they were relatively civil and that was a good thing. And Charlotte was helping him, which was above and beyond the call of duty; she had to appreciate that.
Which only made it so much harder to deal with the fact that there was clearly a reason why Darren was so crazy about her.
"You all right?" Bailey asked.
"I'm fine," Juliet replied, pressing her fingers to her temples. "I've…I think I'll go to see the theatre club. They've been asking me to help them out with that Shakespearean play they're staging for Parents' Night. I guess I can go there and then make some brutally honest comments and make myself feel better by making them feel inferior, maybe even start the cinema versus-theatre debate—that always gets them so worked up."
Bailey tilted her head and looked at Juliet. "You know, you're really not half the jerk you try to make yourself out to be?"
"Oh shut up, Tipton. Let's throw this stuff out and get out of here." Juliet picked up the garbage bin. She spotted the mutilated photograph on the ground. She swallowed again. Closer and closer. It was like a noose tightening around her neck. And the more this feeling grew, the more people seemed to be getting involved.
That wasn't a good sign—it only meant that she was only dragging people into the mess. She picked it up and crumpled it in her hand.
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Post by tonilous on Jul 24, 2014 1:06:41 GMT -5
Grace absently climbed up the stairs to Jefferson, not really sure what to think or feel about herself. That talk with Minah had rattled her and at the same time comforted her. Minah had been very patient with her—she stayed until Grace was able to control herself again, and gave her something to drink to calm her down. Grace's eyes weren't all that red anymore, and she had decided to go back to Jefferson, and maybe catch up to Pipers' practice. Minah walked her to the door of the House.
"Hey," Minah had said as Grace awkwardly thanked her for the talk that they had, "…I just wanted you to know…that if you don't say anything now… you might miss your chance. Don't go that road, Grace. Trust me, you'll really regret it if you don't try. Living in a world of 'what ifs' and 'what could have beens' is the worst."
Maybe Minah inherently knew that she hadn't actually talked to Shane about how she felt. Grace had meant to, all the way since Valentines' Day…but then the whole mess happened and then she couldn't even bring herself to look Shane in the face.
It was strange how their situation reversed. It was now Grace who sought Shane out instead of the other way around. I guess it's true what they say…you don't know what you have until it's gone.
Grace sighed faintly to herself as she headed to her room. Minah didn't have to do what she did, but she did it anyway. And it must've taken some pretty incredible self-control. And maybe it was that which Shane saw in her. She felt a little bad about it, and she didn't really know how to respond.
Fortune favors the bold.
Grace sighed again. It was her turn to reach back out now, wasn't it? Before it was too late?
She stopped in the hall and looked up. …Music…?
She turned to where it was coming from, and realized that it was coming to Damian's room. Surprised, she crept a little closer, and heard the strains of a guitar. Weren't Damian and Charlotte supposed to be in Pipers' practice?
…And I know it's easy to say, but it's harder to feel this way…
And Grace realized: she knew that voice. She would know that voice anywhere in the world. She'd know it in the middle of a crowd or even if it yelled from the other side of a cliff. Grace very, very gently turned the knob in such a way that it didn't make a sound. Carefully easing the door open, she tried to peer in.
And there Shane sat. He looked peaceful amidst the sun that poured from the windows, his hair in unruly curls all over again. He looked lost in thought even as he played. He had Damian's guitar again, and he was gently picking at it with long, elegant fingers, singing softly to himself, like someone trying to keep his hands occupied as his mind wandered off elsewhere.
…and I miss you more than I should… What is he doing here…?
She pushed the door open a little more to listen a bit more, and it creaked so loudly that she suspected it could've been heard all the way off-campus. Grace blanched as the boy on the couch quickly looked up.
Blue gray eyes locked onto brown ones—and there was no mistaking that head of strawberry blond curls. "…Grace?" Shane blinked, quickly leaping to his feet, staring with wide eyes.
"I…I was just—" Grace stepped back quickly, heart hammering. Her fight or flee response had used up all its fight for the day or so it felt like, and she wanted to just go as quickly as possible. But Shane was having none of it. He flew to the door.
"No, wait—!" Shane jumped forward, pulling the door open so suddenly that Grace jumped. "Wait—wait, please. Sorry, look…I…"
He looked so confused and so unsure of himself. He flustered the way Grace did. And why shouldn't he? Had Grace ever really given him any reason to hope for something from her anyway? Until now, to this day, it was Shane who made the first move. Grace always waited for him to make the move and she just followed along, believing that she just went along with his energy and willfulness because she herself couldn't find a foothold.
Grace looked up at Shane and from this distance she could see every emotion that crossed those usually bright and sure eyes. He looked just about as confused and torn as Grace ever did. He could barely form his words, but he looked at Grace as though looking for the right thing to say.
And for some reason…it made Grace smile.
…He really was a spaz, but in all different ways. "Don't look so nervous," Grace said gently.
"I can't help it," Shane answered, sighing, but he clearly relaxed upon hearing Grace speak to him again. He shrugged and threw up his hands."…you keep running away from me, Bambi—trying not to step on a twig and scare you away, here!"
"What did you just call me?" Grace gave him a stunned, indignant look. She took it back. Not cute at all. She frowned at him and Shane held up his hands.
"Okay—see? That. Foot in mouth syndrome. I have it. It's a terminal illness and someday maybe I'll find a cure. Please don't go? Please? Please just…talk to me. Yell at me, be angry, something…just…don't leave." He stared at her expectantly.
As Grace sighed, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. "...what am I going to do with you...?"
"...hopefully...join me?" Shane gave her a hopeful expression now, leaning down a little to catch her gaze.
Grace glanced back at him, a small flush rising to her cheeks but expression remaining nonchalant. "...what were you singing?"
Shane just smiled and opened the door a little more. Grace stared at him, but went in. She walked to the couch where Shane sat, smiling to himself a little as he remembered how they'd been in this situation before—just after Shane's accident, when he was killing time on Damian's guitar.
Clearly bolstered by Grace's willingness to be in his presence, Shane smiled and sat down next to her, picking up the guitar again. Grace asked him, "What are you doing here?"
"Well…" Shane replied, picking at the strings again, "…the parents are coming…and so they told me to go on ahead here, and wait for them instead. After that…depending on what they decide about me transferring here…I either go back with them to get dropped off at Walcott, or I go back with them to get dropped off at the residence here in Massachusetts."
"How did you get in?"
"Oh, I lifted Damian's key from his pocket when I hugged him earlier. Then I just snuck in. Your school security is terrible. Jefferson's even worse now with Han's cameras down."
Grace gaped at him, wide-eyed and smacked his arm. "Ow!" Shane howled, pretending to be wounded. "What? Did you want me to just wander around campus aimlessly, causing untold havoc everywhere?"
Grace rolled her eyes and just shook her head. Shane smiled at her as he continued to pluck the strings. "…I'm really glad you're talking to me." He meant it, and Grace knew it.
The small girl looked up at him and smiled a little. "I guess I have to admit that I missed your energy a little."
"A little?" Shane smiled as he started to play the melody he was playing earlier.
Grace glanced at him with a smile and said, "So what were you singing?"
"Well…I was snooping around the room, as usual…and I found some of Damian's music sheets… I can't really read this, but I do know the song…" Shane picked up some sheets on the table and gave them to Grace. He continued to play a little more, and smiled faintly. "Lyrics are on there too."
Grace looked up to him, watching, as Shane kept his gaze fastened to hers, singing softly as he played.
Diggin' a hole and the walls are caving in…behind me…
Air's getting thin but I'm trying, I'm breathing in…
Come find me…
As Grace followed his words through the lyrics on the sheet, Shane smiled at her faintly. "It hasn't felt like this before…"
Grace lifted her eyes to meet his and sang with him softly.
It hasn't felt like home…before you…
And I know it's easy to say, but it's harder to feel this way…
And I miss you more than I should, than I thought I could—
I can't get my mind off you…
The two of them broke their gazes, as though embarrassed at the way they were singing to each other. It felt that way—like they were singing to each other the words that were difficult to say out loud. Shane continued to sing carefully, a half smile on his face.
I know you're scared that I'll soon be over it; that's part of it all…
Part of the beauty of falling in love with you is the fear you won't fall…
Grace felt a flush rise to her cheeks at the way Shane sang this song—a quiet sincerity that she wasn't prepared for. And she slowly began to realize why Shane seemed to be so lost in thought while he was singing this earlier. He did have a lot on his mind.
…it just turned out that Grace was who was in his mind.
And it was in this moment when Grace wondered—she really really wondered—why she just couldn't tell Shane everything. Shane made it seem so easy. And maybe…it was supposed to be. Maybe because it felt…right.
Maybe it didn't have to be difficult. Maybe this leap of faith wasn't so big. Because Shane already made it clear that he was standing on the other side, waiting to catch her when she jumped.
He had been waiting too.
The two of them looked to each other as they both sang.
And I hate the phone, but I wish you'd call…
Thought being alone was better than…
Was better than...
And I know it's easy to say, but it's harder to feel this way…
And I miss you more than I should, than I thought I could—
I can't get my mind off you…
Shane smiled as he leaned a little closer, just proving a little more who he was singing this song for. "Can't get my mind off you…"
Grace met his eyes, smiling faintly as she leaned close, unafraid, "And I know it's easy to say, but it's harder to feel this way..."
Silence fell. Shane's hand moved away front the guitar and lightly fell on Grace's. The little artist stared intently at the boy, who looked down a little for a moment, as though trying to get his thoughts in order. In the end, he seemed to decide that there was nothing really left to say.
Grace stared at him, that boy who leaned so very very close to her, who cupped her hand in his.
"Living in a world of 'what ifs' and 'what could have beens' is the worst."
Grace felt her breath catch even as she carefully reached up, her hand shaking a little. The jump wasn't all that big—the distance wasn't all that far between them—their hands didn't have to move so far—but it was still a leap. And she couldn't believe it, but she was going to take her chance before it flew away.
And Shane, who had always been waiting on the other side, barely believing it himself, met her hand warmly with his own as he leaned close, their breaths mixing, ghosting over skin for that one very brief moment—so brief that one could barely remember it unless each millisecond, each touch and each brush of eyelashes in that peaceful silence was counted—and their eyes met again.
It was frightening. It was the most frightening thing in the world for Grace—feeling the ground give way beneath her, that fateful millisecond when your brain screams against it, that it was wrong, that it was scary, that this wasn't a good idea, but all the rest of you could only will yourself on—praying desperately it wasn't a mistake and it's too late to turn back—
And then she only realizes Shane's gentle reassuring warmth over her hand before their lips softly touched.
-8-
They didn't really notice that something was wrong when Derek Siegerson dropped him off at the Hall just prior to heading to the Rowing Team meeting. Sure he looked more or less the same—still tall, blond, good-looking and hazel-eyed—but something told Charlotte that the person who was sitting on that couch in Pipers Hall, that person who had not moved nor made a sound during the meeting so far, that person who stared in one spot of sunshine and was virtually a rock, wasn't Darren Wright.
Well…technically.
"Darren?" Damian repeated.
No response.
Darren simply kept staring at the dust specks that floated into the sunlight, completely unaware that the entire room was staring at him since one of the boys had already asked twice if Darren would like a fair shot at the solo because he was unable to attend the duel due to official duties—which was a bit of a pointless question since it was far, far too late to change anything.
With Pentland and Gregor called off for a teachers' meeting as the night's event closed in, the Pipers were at a complete loss. Damian stared at the Adams Prefect while the other Pipers glanced at each other with some apprehension.
Charlotte got up and walked to the boy. "Darren?"
A slow blink. And Darren raised his head to Charlotte with glazed eyes. Charlotte had never ever seen Darren look this hazy before in the span of time that she'd seen him medicated. "Yes, Alice…?"
There was medicated, and then there was just gone.
"The lights are on but no one's home," Patrick raised an eyebrow as the other Pipers started to lean forward. Damian got up and joined Charlotte, both of them standing in front of Darren and looking at him in concern. Diana frowned and said, "Okay, okay, don't crowd, guys—let's give him a little room." She walked up next to Charlotte and Damian and looked down at Darren.
"Darren," Charlotte said firmly. "Can you hear me?"
A flutter of a blink again. "…Oh…yes, I can."
He sounded so unbelievably serene. And Charlotte found that far more unsettling than anything else. He really was just sitting there and staring into nothing and answering in simple quiet sentences in a tone only used when someone was unfocused or half asleep.
She waved a hand in front of Darren's eyes. The tall boy just kept looking straight at her, and didn't even bat an eye. Charlotte now looked at Damian in alarm. Damian looked very nervous now—even he had never seen this before. He turned to Darren and put a hand on his shoulder. "Darren? Darren, focus." "…pardon?"
"It's me, Damian?" he said emphatically. He received no response from that. Damian looked at Charlotte, looking anxious. "This hasn't happened before." He looked at the Adams House members of the Pipers. "When he's medicated, has this ever happened?"
"No," Thad frowned, shaking his head. "He doesn't act like that. He's just quieter and ignores people more, but nothing like that."
"He wasn't like that earlier…" Louisa said, looking nervous. "We heard him having an argument with Juliet and Derek. He wasn't like that at all."
Charlotte looked concerned, putting a hand to Darren's forehead to check his temperature while Danny lifted a wrist to check the prefect's pulse. While he did all these things, Darren didn't even move. He just blinked with empty hazel eyes at Charlotte, who could only stare. Those eyes looked greener than ever. Maybe because his pupils looked a little bit constricted.
"Darren?" Danny now said as he tried to turn Darren's face towards him to get his attention. "What happened? Did you drink anything or eat anything?"
He was completely ignored. Darren just kept staring at Charlotte blankly. "Darren!" Charlotte called, snapping her fingers in front of his eyes.
Immediately, Darren reacted. "Yes, Alice?"
The Twins were trying desperately to not smile at this—it was the second time, so clearly it was going to keep happening. Patrick gaped at the complete bizarreness of it all before he looked at the others. "How come he doesn't respond to anyone except Charlotte…?"
"That's not true," Damian frowned. "Didn't he answer me earlier? Darren?" And now he was ignored. More Pipers crept closer, trying to figure out what was going on.
"Oh man…" Diana blinked as she tugged on Darren's arm, trying to pull him to his feet, but he was as useless and immobile as a rock. The Twins approached and began to circle him a little.
"Is he sporting any other symptoms?" they asked carefully.
"Well his pulse…I can't call it normal…" said Danny, exhaling. "And his pupils are slightly constricted. He had something but it's…well it doesn't seem to be an overdose or he would be worse off than this…"
"And this is bad enough." Charlotte looked up, and then grabbed Darren's hands. "Darren? Do you remember anything? Can you explain what happened before you got here with Derek?"
To which Darren patiently replied, "I'm afraid I can't explain myself, miss, because I'm not myself right now, you know."
The Pipers burst into exclamations of amazement. The Twins looked like they were having heart failure in complete delight. Damian blinked in surprise.
This was when Bailey came in, looking confused when she saw all the Pipers crowding around the couch, surrounding Darren. "What's going on?" she asked. "Where are Pentland and Gregor?"
"Teacher's meeting," said Patrick. "There's kind of something wrong with Darren."
"What do you mean?" Bailey stopped short and immediately turned white. Knowing what she knew, this news was completely unwelcome. "What's wrong with Darren? What happened?"
"We don't know," Diana replied, shaking her head as Charlotte continued to wave her hands in front of Darren's eyes. "He walked in here and sat down and while we were talking something…kicked in, I guess. Because he's just sitting there and can't hear or acknowledge any of us. We just know that he's completely out of it. He can't even explain anything to us!"
Damian looked up when Bailey went out for an instant and then walked back in, dragging a heavily protesting Juliet with her, never more grateful for the sight of one of Darren's "wingmen". "Juliet—do you know anything about this?"
"About what?" she demanded as she pulled off her sunglasses and walked to the prefect who sat at the couch. Damian explained in a few words everything that they had just seen, and how Darren couldn't seem to acknowledge anyone except Charlotte. Juliet rolled her eyes at that last part, but inwardly her mind was racing. This was bad. Darren wasn't anything like this earlier. Well if this was going to be a test of how bad Darren's situation was right now, it would be having Juliet talk to him fresh after a fight like the last one.
"Darren," she said, standing in front of him. "Can you hear me?"
The blond stared up listlessly at her. "…of course I can."
Everyone looked at each other in vast surprise. Aside from Charlotte, no one else had successfully gotten Darren's attention. "Wait, you can talk to him?" Charlotte asked, staring at her.
"So can you, apparently," Juliet muttered. "Is that such a big deal?"
Charlotte leaned a little closer. "Do you think this is—"
"Don't even say it," Juliet hissed at her even as her mind tried to find all the possibilities. Darren wasn't like this earlier. So something happened in between. What did Darren do? He went to his room…and he'd gone to his room because Derek said—
Juliet's eyes widened. Quickly, she patted Darren's pockets. "Darren, where's your medication?"
The disoriented prefect made a deep sigh. "If you'd really like to know, it's that way." He gestured absently to nothing.
Everyone looked around. Juliet blinked. "What is?"
"What you want."
Seeing absolutely nothing, Charlotte looked at him incredulously. "It is?"
Darren blinked. "It is what?"
"What you said was there!" Juliet burst out.
"What's there?"
"Your medication!" Charlotte snapped.
"What medication?"
"But you just said—!" Juliet groaned in absolute frustration, resisting the urge to strangle her friend. She dragged a hand down her face as Charlotte glared at the Twins who were expiring on the floor in fits of hysterical laughter.
"This is not funny!" Damian scolded them.
"Yes—it is!" the Twins gasped between chokes of laughter.
Charlotte walked around the couch and found Darren's satchel dropped at the side. She picked it up and started rummaging in it for some kind of clue. She saw a yellow pill container in there and pulled it out. "This! I found it!" she exclaimed, going back to Damian and Juliet. "Is this his medication?"
"Yeah," Juliet nodded.
Charlotte frowned and popped open the lid. She saw a whole lot of white pills, and at first glance, they looked all the same. She carefully poured some of it into her hand. Damian moved over to her, looking down. Charlotte searched the pills and found that they weren't all the same at all. They only looked alike, if you weren't looking very hard. There were two kinds in there—one with a slightly different shape than the other.
"That…definitely doesn't look right…" Damian muttered as Charlotte stared with wide eyes at the pills in her palm.
"There are two different kinds in here…" Charlotte stated, staring at Darren.
"One side will make you taller, and the other side will make you shorter," Darren responded amiably, without prompting.
The Twins' hysterical giggling was near uncontrollable at this point and it was driving Charlotte crazy. The prefect of Adams House was spouting nonsense and he was clearly drugged by something that wasn't his normal medication. There was no way Darren could've possibly done this to himself. That terrible feeling started to rear its ugly head again and Charlotte felt a cold pit in her stomach.
Because Darren's medication was clearly a personal thing. It wasn't something that he flailed around and Charlotte was certain that it wasn't something that psychotic obsessive fans were privy to knowing. After the fiasco at Winter Fest, everyone knew Darren took medication to control his temper, but no one could've possibly known what it even looked like or where it even was. This trick was carefully done by someone who had been watching very intently, someone who could be around enough.
Someone inside the school.
Color draining from her face, Charlotte looked at Juliet indignantly. For heavenssake, she was supposed to be the one on the high alert for these things—"How did this happen?"
"You're asking me?" Juliet hissed back at her.
"Well clearly you should know given the situation—"
"He was the one giving me a hard time here—"
"Him? He's the drugged one!"
"His medication isn't exactly in my checklist!"
"Well clearly it should be."
The Pipers frowned a little in confusion, looking back and forth between Juliet and Charlotte who, as far as they knew, have never yet spoken a breath to each other and yet are now bickering on the same train of thought. Even Damian noticed as he looked back and forth between them. "Excuse me, I don't mean to interrupt you two, but—what's going on here? Did I miss something?" he stared at his girlfriend and the Adams and wondered how in the world this situation was even happening.
Charlotte crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Juliet, raising an eyebrow expectantly. Juliet glared back at her and looked back to Darren, grabbing his hands. "Darren—!"
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Post by tonilous on Jul 24, 2014 1:33:35 GMT -5
Now, from Darren Wright's point of view, he was not really conscious of anything that had been happening at all. None whatsoever, until this present moment. He had been hearing voices, and he turned to them because they were the only sound that registered. He couldn't recall ever being this hazy. It really didn't feel right at all. He couldn't feel anything—not his hands, his feet, his body—it was like being completely weightless.
It wasn't until he heard those voices—two familiar voices talking that slowly were getting clearer the more they talked, that he started to come back a little bit.
He felt his hand. A warmth pulsing there. Feeling spread slowly but surely. Someone was holding his hand. The haze and fog was starting to clear, and he began to see shapes and shadows through this nothingness of gray. It looked like people.
"Darren…?"
The shapes in front of him were becoming clearer, the people who moved there, but the location itself couldn't focus, like a camera in the wrong depth of field. Darren closed his eyes for a moment, trying to focus. When he carefully opened them again…he was fairly sure that he might not be where he wanted to be precisely.
He could see Juliet standing in front of him, holding his hands and staring at him with wide eyes. …but why was she partially fading away? He could see through her body—like she was a ghost. But she was looking at him in concern. "Darren…?" Juliet was saying. "Are you still with us?"
"We have to get him to the clinic or something," came Charlotte's matter-of-fact tone. Darren turned to look at her immediately, wondering what Charlotte was doing here. And Charlotte looked like Charlotte, for the most part. With the uniform and the neat hair. But he didn't recall Charlotte strutting around in school uniform with an apron and a headband. A big white apron and a freaking headband for heavenssakes.
Hands to her hips, Charlotte frowned at Juliet, whose opacity was still questionable. "He's completely out of it. We should get him out of here to someplace safer."
"Maybe he just needs to let the effect wear off," suggested Damian, who also looked the same, with the hair and the uniform and the clear eyes. …but that pair of fluffy rabbit ears sprouting from the top of his head was really unsettling to Darren, to be honest. It didn't help when he pulled out the pocketwatch as he remarked, "Pentland and Gregor better get back soon… They might have ideas."
"They're just running a little late," said Diana, whose big top hat was so large that it was falling over her eyes, and while it didn't seem to be bothering her, it bothered Darren a whole lot. Patrick, who was sitting on the table, arms crossed and looking displeased, didn't seem to be realizing that he too had a pair of floppy ears, but larger than Damian's. "How do you suppose we get him out of here? We have to fix this! The freaking Adams prefect isn't right and we've got a few hours left before Parents' Night begins!"
Nothing made sense. Where was he? What was happening? Why did everyone look like that?
Charlotte groaned, dropping his head into his hands. "This can't be happening. This isn't happening…"
Darren closed his eyes. He was dreaming. He was sure of it. He fell asleep, and now he's dreaming. When he closed his eyes, he heard Juliet and Charlotte talking to him again. There was a noise in the background.
Metal clanging.
A rising roar.
And babbling. Voices.
It's not me, it's you—
Actually, it's the taxidermy of you and me—
Untie the balloons from around my neck and ground me—
I'm just a racehorse on the track—
Send me back to the glue factory—
Always thought I'd float away—
And never come back—
"Darren?" Charlotte stared at Darren, who was staring into empty space. His pupils constricted a bit more. Charlotte moved closer. "Hey!"
But I've got enough miles on my card—
to fly the boys home on my own—
But you know me: I like being all alone—
And keeping you all alone—
And the charts are boring—
And the kids are snoring—
And the eagles in a sling—
You say you're not listening—
That roar was getting louder. Darren closed his eyes tight and groaned. Juliet panicked, holding his hand tightly. "Darren—!"
And I said I'm wishing—
And I said...I said—
Darren's eyes flew open. Everything had stilled. No one looked strange, just the same students in uniform that he remembered. He was sitting in the Pipers' Hall couch and he could see everyone looking at him in concern. But no one was moving.
It was like someone had hit a pause button. Juliet was leaning towards him, gripping his hand—Charlotte was there, leaning close and staring wide-eyed at him. Damian was next to Charlotte, also looking at him, apprehensive. All the rest of the Pipers were gathered there.
Darren looked around, staring at them. Why was no one moving?
As soon as he thought this, they did begin to move—except Juliet, who remained frozen in time. But they moved like they weren't really themselves. They were bouncing around in slow motion all around the hall, forming a circle that went around and around—like a caucus race.
…and that was when the music started.
Have you ever wanted to disappear and join a monastery;
Go out and preach on Manic Street?
Where will I be when I wake up next to a stranger on a passenger plane?
Darren blinked, staring at them all who were singing and dancing around him as they bounced on the furniture, singing in perfect chorus and doing stunts and backflips all over the place. Just bouncing around. Except…they were moving like they were moving like his usual self…everyone else was just in slow mo.
And normally they didn't tend to do that.
Permanent jet lag; please take me back—
Please take be back
I'm straight toxic
Please let me in; please let me in
In that case trip in;
Singing vows before we exchange smoke rings—
The Pipers leapt together, singing at the top of their lungs in chorus, as Darren sat there staring at them and wondering if he was awake yet. When the Pipers jumped or did some kind of trick, they floated. They hung slow in the air before landing and then returning to normal speed.
It was like watching a video with someone playing with the speed settings.
His head hurt.
Give me a pen; Call me Mr. Benzedrine
But don't let the doctor in; I wanna blow off steam and
Call me Mr. Benzedrine; But don't let the doctor,
Don't let the doctor in—
He could see Damian, and Charlotte, and Patrick, and Diana, and the Twins all in the chorus, taking the lead as they ran around him, climbing and diving down the furniture, almost ignoring him as he sat there, mildly fascinated. Confetti was falling.
It feels like fourteen karats but no clarity;
When I look at the man who would be king;
The man who would be king goes to the desert to sing war his dad rehearsed;
Came back with flags on coffins and said:
"We won, oh, we won!"
Darren tilted his head a little, blinking in that way dreamers do when they were trying to make sense of what they were seeing. Because clearly…this was a little strange.
Maybe it had something to do with the bubbles flying everywhere. Where did they come from, actually? Probably where those playpen balls were falling from and bouncing up and down all over the room—moving as though in slow motion. It didn't seem to bother anyone else either. He sat listening as Patrick backflipped right over his head.
B-b-b-b-Benzedrine
my, my, my Benzedrine
my B-b-b-b-Benzedrine now…
Only one more thing and that is the rest of the proof is on the television, on the...
The Pipers burst to action. They leapt out of their circle now, bouncing off the walls and going crazy—moving a lot more like he remembered them when they just broke out into song and dance in the middle of school hallways.
He saw Damian leap on top of the table in front of him, singing with everything he had, twirling Charlotte in a dance and Charlotte leapt off the table to get caught by the Twins—and she was going up to him—
Give me a pen; Call me Mr. Benzedrine
But don't let the doctor in; I wanna blow off steam and
Call me Mr. Benzedrine; But don't let the doctor,
Don't let the doctor in—
"Darren!"
Eyes snapped open. Pupils dilated slightly. Haze cleared partially. Darren slumped forward and coughed, dazed and nauseated. "Oh…god, what…? Charlotte…?"
Charlotte exhaled from where she was staring at him. Sign of life at last. That really was a relief. "Oh god, finally. Hey. You're not doing so great, so Juliet's going to take you back to Adams House. Okay?"
"What…?" Darren asked, dizzy and still not quite himself. "I'm fine…I'm perfectly fine…" He started to get up. And then he smacked to the ground like a wet sheet. The Pipers gaped at him. He was clearly still out of it in spite of better responses.
Damian very patiently grabbed his arm and helped him up. "You are not 'fine'." He felt Darren slip in his grasp and he nearly fell down with him.
"This isn't good," Charlotte said, looking worried. "He can't go to Parents' Night like this."
"Boy, I'll say," Diana muttered, shaking her head. "Michelle Wright is coming to Parents' Night like she did last year. If she sees Darren like this, she might tell Mr. Wright that Darren's doing drugs now! They'll never believe he just took the wrong ones by mistake."
"How does that even happen?" Patrick frowned.
Charlotte's eyes immediately flicked to Juliet, who turned white as a sheet. Juliet shot her a desperate look to silence her as she grabbed Darren's arm and slung it over her shoulder to support him. "Whatever. I'm taking this egghead back to Adams House before he does anything too embarrassing for us all."
"We should've recorded him messing with you and Charlotte," Diana laughed.
"Ha ha," Juliet rolled her eyes and made sure she was securely supporting Darren with her shoulders. "This is why I hate high school choirs…so juvenile."
"Hello, Kettle? This is the Pot speaking, I'd like my color back," Charlotte raised an eyebrow.
"Don't knock it, Cheshire Cat—your friend's in this one," the Twins smirked, leaning against each other and watching with knowing fascination at the two Adams. Damian stepped forward, looking worried. "We'll help take him back to the dorm, Juliet. If you want, we can call the nurse—"
"No," Juliet snapped back. She was glaring. "You know as well as I do what'll happen if I take him to the nurse. The nurse will call his family. What do you think Senator Wright is going to do to him if he finds out that he got himself in this situation while in school prior to a major event?"
They were a little startled by her vehemence and Damian stepped back a little. "Juliet, we're just trying to—"
"I know you are, okay?" Juliet snapped. "But I don't need you! I'll handle this!" And she left, taking Darren with him, the boy still as disoriented as ever.
Charlotte watched the two go with misgivings. While nothing serious had happened yet, she thought everything was safe. And she had already told Felix to keep an eye on Adam. She thought she had done something. She had thought she had cleared up that problem in that end, even a little bit. Even if she had no proof, if the one threatening them was Adam, then she couldn't really act…not when the Washingtons are watching…and especially not tonight…
…right?
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Post by tonilous on Jul 24, 2014 2:17:32 GMT -5
The afternoon wore on.
Noel sat at the front steps, staring at a memory stick that he hated more than anything in the world right now. He didn't loathe inanimate objects but right now he loathed it so terribly that if he didn't need it so much, he'd break it into two. He had just come from Han's room, and had received it from him. Now, by all accounts, he may have had delusions of how much he had the situation under control. He thought that Han could get him the proof that he needed.
When Noel went upstairs to see Han, the first thing that the computer nerd did was make sure to keep Noel did not bring and salt or holy water into his room. After that last incident, it only meant trouble and Han had to replace lots of ruined pieces of technology.
And then he showed him the video.
The bug, of course, was something of Han's own creation made with the help of Drew and Satoru. The one that looked out at the front of Adams House was situated in a high location and had been exposed to the elements. The video it took had no sound, and wasn't clear. But it saw stuff, and that was what was important.
The night that Noel was looking for, the one when Charlotte ran out, had managed to capture a blurry shot of Charlotte running around Adams House in a mild panic. They both recognized the pajamas and the immaculate blonde hair—yes that was definitely Charlotte. And then later, Noel appeared in his rumpled best, and after a brief squabble, both he and Charlotte went offscreen.
And then Han rewound it back.
Noel stood there and watched as a figure in what looked to be casual clothes stood at the grass around Adams House, looking up at one of the windows, hands to his pockets. A tall boy, hands to his pockets—and his pale hair caught the light from the lamps around school. He was standing there in the complete stillness, just staring up at one of the windows. He didn't turn around, and even if he had, there was no way to zoom in and make the image clear.
And then as the time approached to when Charlotte would appear onscreen, the figure seemed to turn—no haste, no alarm—and just strolled off like someone in a park. Moments later, Charlotte showed up to what looked like empty grounds.
Han had given Noel the video on that memory stick that he was holding now. And Noel hated it with a passion. It gave him only half of what he wanted. It proved that there was someone wandering the grounds that night. And that the person was male.
But then? Nothing else. No clear view of whoever it was, and because the person wasn't "sneaking around", it could very well just be a student who was walking around a little late. It could have been anyone.
And that was why Noel hated the video.
"Noel!"
The hunter looked up. Laura Bancroft was approaching, dressed in her color-blind best. Normally Noel would've made some kind of snarky comment that would do the fashionistas proud, but he saw that it wasn't a laughing matter today.
"Noel…" Laura was panting, leaning her hands on her knees as she reached him. She looked pale. "Did you find anything?"
Noel told her what he'd found. He gave her the memory stick. She took it, listened to what he said, and shook her head. "Do you think it's enough for me to convince Felix to evac the dorm?"
"Why? What happened in the dorm?" Noel asked, getting up.
Laura looked afraid.
Merril had gone up to Adam's room and knocked on the door, trying to ask if he wanted to join the others for a pre-Parents' Night pep talk with Felix downstairs. When there was no answer, she made the mistake of turning the doorknob to find it open. But before she could push it open, Adam materialized next to her, demanding to know what she thought she was doing.
Laura explained that Merril told her that while outwardly he looked calm, the way he looked at her was absolutely furious. So much that Merril backed away immediately, apologizing. But he just kept looking at her with a strange expression on his face.
When Merril got scared, she went downstairs and told Felix what had happened. The Washington prefect wasn't pleased, and neither was her boyfriend. Felix called Adam down and spoke to him. Adam only said that he didn't know what Merril was talking about—he was a little upset that someone just tried to enter his room so casually, sure, but he wasn't going to hurt her or anything.
While people naturally believed him, and Merril decided that she might have just been seeing things, it did at least plant the idea that there was definitely something off with the new boy. Laura decided she'd had enough. One way or another, they were going to have to get in that room.
Noel paced and gestured around a moment and said, "We're going to have to break in. We already know that he fits the bill of the guy in the video."
"I can help," Laura nodded. "I know where is room is. It's in the third floor."
"Okay, then. I have a plan." Noel brushed his hands off. "Somehow, the dorm has to be evacuated. You have to convince Felix to empty that dorm. I don't know what you have to do. Then we go in."
Laura looked lost in thought. "Well…doesn't everybody leave the dorms this afternoon, though? For first assembly before the parents start arriving?"
"Think we can manage to go in then?" Laura asked.
"I'm guessing," Noel sighed. "I can't believe I'm finally breaking into Washington House, I've always wanted to see what it looked like from the inside…"
"A whole lot of marble," Laura grumbled.
"I bet it's completely haunted. With some serious ecto."
"The only thing they've got in there are secretive people and apparently a deranged stalker." Laura rolled her eyes. "Look, they're calling for the House meetings now. They'll all have to be there, so you can be sure that Adam is there, so make sure he's gone later when everyone leaves for school assembly. I'll meet you around the House when the dorm is empty. Then we go in. We're going to find out who that guy is."
-8-
(Jefferson House Meeting. Late afternoon, Purgatory.)
When Jefferson arrived back at their dorm, the first thing they saw was Shane sitting in the common room with Grace asleep on his shoulder. Their hands were laced together. When Shane looked up to look at his brother, all he did was smile and nod. And that was all he needed to say.
The Jeffersons stared for a moment—and then exploded into screams and applause, effectively waking Grace with a jolt as the students swarmed over them, clapping their hands on their shoulders.
"What happened?" Grace gasped as the Twins grabbed her and hugged her happily.
"You finally finally got it together, little McGinty!" Patrick crowed, clapping Shane's shoulders with a grin. Shane burst out laughing and said, "When you say 'little', do you mean me or Damian?"
"Ha ha, very funny," Damian made a face at him as the others laughed.
Charlotte came up to Grace, smirking and her roommate immediately turned crimson. "So… I think someone finally made a jump…"
"Oh Charl, please don't start," Grace begged, looking deeply embarrassed, and tightening around Shane's. "Really—I don't even know how it happened." Charlotte raised an eyebrow, still smiling. Grace rolled her eyes and said, "Fine. I knew how it happened." A pause, and then she glanced at Shane, who was grinning at his brother, and then shook her head. "I know very well."
Charlotte grinned and lightly put a hand on her shoulder. "You sure about this?"
"Pretty sure," Grace replied softly, smiling a little.
"Shane, the top of your head looks like it's going to come off," Damian grinned at his brother, and Shane looked entirely too happy to care. But Damian leaned a little closer and whispered to him, "Please tell me you have thought about a little more about what's going to happen with you and Dad tonight."
The smile was wiped clean from Shane's face. Damian stared at him intently, eyes asking everything. It was one thing to confront their dad about Minah, but now that Grace is with him, he could be caught in the crossfire. And Grace wasn't exactly that…durable as opposed to other people.
Shane quickly looked at Grace, a little alarmed. The two fashionistas were still talking to one another, with Grace looking happier than they'd seen her in weeks, oblivious to the concern that the two McGintys were discussing. The younger brother turned to the older and exhaled. "I've got this. I really do."
"I'm here for you, all right?" Damian told him. "Besides…" he also glanced to the two next to them, staring at Charlotte for a long moment before looking back at his brother. "I'm not letting dad take this away from me either."
"You think…you think we'll be all right?" Shane whispered, looking worried. "I've decided this a while back…that I would tell dad everything but…it's a lot harder than it seemed at the time. Minah and Grace are here. I…" Shane lowered his eyes. "And I…I still want our parents to love us, Damian." He glanced at him. "After what happened with you and dad…how horrible things got at home… I started to doubt how well I was going handle it."
"I know," Damian replied, putting a hand to his brother's back. "I know what you mean, Shane." He sighed. "…I want this to work as much as you do."
Shane nodded, looking at his hands. "…I just want mom and dad to…understand. You know?"
"I know," Damian said, with a small smile. "I've wanted that same thing for a long time. And it just…it seems really hard to get right about now. But whatever happens…I'm with you, okay? You don't have to do this alone. I'm right here."
Shane smiled faintly at him. "…thanks, Damo." He paused for a moment, lost in thought. He glanced at the two girls that he and his brother loved, and then looked at his brother and said, "…I'm sorry for…for before, when—"
"Shane, you've apologized to me fifteen times," Damian replied, smiling, patting his shoulder. "I've said the same thing every time. You don't have to apologize to me. It's not going to change this time."
The younger brother smiled a little, and tightened his hold on Grace's hand.
Charlie walked in with the last of the other students and looked around the room. "Okay, okay, settle down! Settle down, one last round of reminders before I want everyone in assembly. Every last one of you!"
From next to Charlie, Han Westwood appeared in the flesh, sighing and looking very pale when wearing his school uniform. He sighed and trudged to the others. "You realize what I'm missing right now? People are raiding as we speak."
"Oh stop complaining," Patrick rolled his eyes as Charlie began to make a head count. "Your parents are awesome, we meet them every year and their awesomeness does not diminish."
"I can't wait to lay eyes on your parents, personally," said Charlotte with a smirk at the Caterpillar. "I want to know what kind of parents they are to let you run amok on the internet twenty four hours a day."
"His parents are pretty cool," Grace said, grinning.
Charlie lowered the clipboard and frowned. "All right, where's Montgomery?"
"Probably off exorcising a school statue again," Diana remarked, and Charlie groaned. "Can someone please find that kid?"
"I'll do it," Charlotte said, getting up. "I think he wanted to talk to me anyway," he added, remembering how Noel had urgently gestured to get her attention yesterday. She hadn't been able to find the hunter all night during the party. But apparently he had taken to wandering around Adams House because he was unceremoniously returned near the end by a couple of annoyed Adams boys who claimed that he was drawing sigils on the house again.
"When you find him, get back here quick, I just have important reminders to tell you guys before we go out there guns blazing," Charlie explained.
Charlotte nodded to Damian who looked like he wanted to go after her, but the diva only shook her head and made him sit back down. Damian really didn't look pleased—he wanted to talk to Charlotte about why she seemed to be so rattled all day but so far Charlotte hadn't told him anything.
And she had her reasons. It was a long story to tell—and everything so far could be termed delusional. And if it was true… getting Damian involved could potentially put him in danger. Especially after what she saw happen to Darren. Clearly, someone was on the warpath. Until she was sure, Charlotte wasn't telling anyone.
Charlotte stepped out of Jefferson, down the stairs and onto the grass, and looked around in apprehension, wondering if Noel was wandering the grounds. She pulled out her phone and was about to call the young boy when she thought she heard a rustle in the bushes.
She froze as she turned. Was someone watching? "Noel?" she walked to the bushes carefully. It looked like there might be something there—or someone. Charlotte immediately frowned, wondering the hunter was in the bushes hunting things again. "Noel, this isn't funny." She went to the bushes and reached out. "Noel—"
"Charlotte!" there was a tug on her arm that nearly yanked it out of its socket and Noel was behind her, pulling her back towards Jefferson. "Hey, right here, let's go! Can't be late for the meeting!" He sounded out of breath and panicked.
Charlotte stared at him and pulled her arm back, annoyed. "Let go of me—where did you come from?"
"Don't you ever watch horror movies?" Noel hissed as they went up the stairs. "The person who does that kind of thing gets stabbed."
"Where have you been?" Charlotte hissed.
"I have to talk to you about Adam and how big a trouble you are in…" Noel responded as the front door slammed.
Adam tilted his head a little and watched the two vanish into Jefferson. So, as usual, he was right. Charlotte did have something to do with this mess and she was already intervening. And she was working with Noel. That's excellent, really…it would be a lot easier if he got both Jeffersons simultaneously.
He wasn't particularly worried about what would happen after tonight. By the time tonight was over, all the people in the way would be removed, and he and Juliet would be long gone, leaving this terrible school forever. And then…who knew?
He smiled to himself and then glanced to the direction of Adams House.
They should be enjoying having a wonderfully calm and cooperative Prefect today. And with that, he walked back to Washington.
(Adams House Meeting, Purgatory.)
There really wasn't much of a meeting. It was more the Adams panicking as they tried to bring their prefect back to his senses. After this meeting, everyone was supposed to be out of there, and there was definitely going to be quite a problem when all the Adams materialize for assembly without their prefect present.
Or worse—their prefect was present, and spouting nonsensical lines.
"Maybe we should give him some coffee," Lorraine suggested, blinking at Darren who sat in the middle of the common room with about as much use as an ornamental rock. "It might wake him up."
"Yeah, some really strong coffee," agreed Thaddeus.
"Yeah, coffee always works," Nick nodded. There was a chorus of agreement from all around.
Derek dragged a hand down his face, with a deep, frustrated sigh. For a House that prides itself on being intellectuals, they were really having a hard time figuring out how to get Darren out of this funk as soon as possible.
The prefect in question was unhelpfully staring at bright points of light and being only marginally responsive. "This isn't going to make it," Derek said, looking worried. "It's not going to wear off before the parents get here that's for sure. Worst case, we're going to have to tell Michelle that Darren's not feeling all that well. But knowing her, she'd run to him to look after him."
"Oh man, Darren's stepmom is totally hot," Marcus sighed, remembering last year—and promptly received punches on the arm by the other incredulous Adams. "Dude…" Lawrence rolled his eyes in disgust.
"What?" Marcus stared at them, arms open. "You guys aren't telling me that his stepmom isn't smoking, okay? Not like you guys didn't also stare when she walked up in that red outfit last year."
"Dude, first of all, that's messed up. Two, Darren is going to rip your head if he hears you saying that to his face," Bailey raised an eyebrow.
"First of all, his stepmom's like, twenty-seven and she looks like Katherine Heigl. Second of all, he can't even hear any of us."
This was true. Derek tried to get his friend's attention again he shook his shoulders. "Darren?" Derek waved a hand in front of his face. "Darren, are you listening?"
The prefect closed his eyes momentarily, looking completely, utterly, gone. "…yeah."
"What was the last thing I said?"
"…Good morning."
Derek clenched his fists in frustration, the Adams in the common room looking horrified as they realized that more than usual, there was just no getting through to their leader. "We are so dead! Who did this to him?"
Juliet decided it was prudent to not speak up on this question. And maybe Derek managed to put two and two together on his own and just decided to say it for the sake of theatrics. Bailey was studying the pill bottle in concern. "How many did he take?"
"Forget that!" Juliet glared as she looked at the completely disoriented blond on the chair and feeling a little desperate. "What did they give him? And how long does it last?"
Bailey glanced out the windows. "I think the teachers are coming out. House Heads would be heading for us any minute. What do we tell Murdoch?"
"Nothing!" Derek retorted. He turned to them all, glaring. "I'll act as prefect and take over duties in the meantime."
"That's wonderful," Juliet said sarcastically. "What do we say when the teachers ask about Darren? They all expect him after all the stuff he does for the Pipers and prefect duties and he meets them all! He just met them all."
"I'd hate to say this," said Bailey, "but you're going to need Jefferson's help."
There was a burst of protests from the other Adams, who looked indignant. "What? Why? Why would we need Jefferson?"
"Because," Bailey sighed, "Jefferson is the only House that can run enough interference. The Twins used to be his friends, I think. They could keep everyone from wondering—especially the teachers, who just saw him earlier. He was perfectly fine then and suddenly he's sick? No way that's going to fly, especially with Murdoch, Lowell, Gregor, and Pentland. If we get Jefferson to make enough of a ruckus, they won't be thinking about the missing prefect too much."
"They'd never do it for us," Thaddeus shook his head. "We all hate each other too much. You remember what they did to our doors and windows? And that goat?"
"No, they won't, but Charlotte and Damian could get them to," Juliet replied, glancing at them. "And the Twins. Those guys could get Jefferson to do anything. And they all tolerate Darren enough. If we're lucky, we might get Charlie on board but that's a long shot."
"We just need them to throw up some smokescreens for a little while—hopefully by then, Darren would be back to his senses," Derek nodded.
Juliet suddenly smirked at Derek just as the bell that called for assembly in the grounds rang out from South and Main, heard all over the school. "Which means you have to tell them that they have to distract Michelle Wright. Who is probably going to want to see "her baby" the moment she hears that he's not quite himself." She shrugged. "Or you do it yourself."
"That may not be so bad," Derek grinned.
Marcus blinked. "Whoa, wait, can the rest of us do that?"
Derek smacked the back of Marcus' head and pointed out the door. "All of you out! Go on! To assembly! We'll get back to this problem later. Juliet, you stay in this dormitory and keep an eye on Hazy over here."
"What?"
"Your parents aren't coming, right?" Derek replied.
"Hello, I'm Juliet Larson and I'm the resident celebrity. Everyone will be looking out for me," Juliet snapped. "And I don't see why I have to be the one to babysit this—this squid!"
And then Derek grabbed her arm and pulled her a little closer, hissing in her ear, "You ever think that the reason Darren is currently sitting there with sludge for brains right now is because you refuse to take action with this problem you have? Juliet, our friend could've died if it had been worse drugs. If it had been freaking cyanide, I wouldn't have been surprised. We are lucky he's even still breathing. You sit here and take care of him and get some measure of responsibility for this." He glared at his friend, who had lost all color on her face. It was harsh, but true. Juliet fell silent, lowering her eyes.
Derek then looked at Bailey. "Tipton, you stay here too. Your folks aren't coming?"
"Their personal assistant is, or…something," Bailey remarked, shrugging a little. "Yeah, I'll stay," she added, giving Derek a nod that told him that yes, she would help keep an eye on Juliet and Darren given the problem they had at present.
"It's just a short while, just for assembly and just when the parents are arriving and mingling with each other. When the program starts, I'll come back to check on you guys later to see if Darren is…conscious." Derek glanced at them. Juliet nodded to him, suddenly silent. Derek felt a pang of remorse, but there was nothing he could do. He didn't want to tell Juliet that another reason that he wanted her out of the crowd was because all the students of the school would likely be there. Including whoever was helping her stalker. For all he knew, with all the families who come, the stalker might actually get in now.
The less she was visible, the better.
Hopefully…someone doesn't come knocking on Adams House.
(Washington House Meeting, Purgatory)
There was no hilarity in Washington House. Everyone had been present at the meeting where Felix efficiently gave out his reminders and all the things they needed to remember. Everyone had things to do, people to attend to. Everyone was present, including Adam who only came a little late to the meeting. But the meeting went cleanly and efficiently, and everyone had a little time to themselves for now.
Right before the bell for assembly, Felix, Danny, Spencer, Merril, and little Laura Bancroft stayed in Felix's room for private caucus.
When Felix returned to have the House Meeting, Laura had come running to him, just like Noel told her to do. She had tried to tell him one more time about Adam. She told him how she followed him around, about the video, and how it sounds insane, but if there was any reason to suspect that it might be him, they still had to check it out just in case they were right.
Noel had given Laura the copy, so they had seen that video and couldn't deny that the boy there did look like Adam. But it couldn't be confirmed just yet. But it did make everyone nervous. And while Felix didn't approve of his sister just spying around like she owned the place, he couldn't deny that she was finding pieces that tied together. Especially since he didn't even tell her that Charlotte Summers basically confirmed that there was someone sending threatening messages to the actor.
Felix had his hands pressed together, contemplative. He looked at his sister intently, and then to Danny and Spencer standing on either side of her, looking white in the face and worried. Merril stood nearby, fretting and wringing her hands.
"Do something, Felix, please," Laura begged. "Look in his room. Follow him around—anything. I don't trust him! Even if he doesn't really mean any harm, which I seriously doubt, shouldn't you be dealing with this since he's one of yours?"
Silence. Merril wrung her hands again, face grave. "Felix, I'm going to have to go with your sister here. There's something wrong. There's something really really wrong!" She didn't want to say it out loud but everyone thought it—that missing knife in the block could be somewhere in that room.
"Let us clear out the dorm," Spencer hissed, not liking the conversation. "Come on, clear the dorm, say there's a gas leak or something and then let's break in!"
Finally, Felix stood. He looked at them all, staring at him and waiting for a decision. The prefect always had the final word in Washington. Felix seemed to consider everything.
And then he spoke. "Right now, we can't do anything. It's already Parents' Night. We can't start a panic in this school when all of the families are here, especially if we're wrong. I know, Laura," he said to the girl who looked like she was about to protest. "But if we're wrong, we all take a huge fall for this and we could ruin Adam unnecessarily. I know, I don't like this any more than you guys do, but I have to think of everyone and I can't make any rash movements. I propose we go to assembly, meet with all the parents, and then wait until everyone is distracted by the programs and performances. Then we can look in the room. Spencer, you have the key." The other boy nodded and held it up a moment before putting it in his pocket.
Then he looked at Danny. "Follow him. Keep an eye on him during the cocktails when all the parents are milling about. If you can, keep him from going back to the dorm."
To the other two, he said, "Merril, Spence, come with me. We'll finish all the important things in the assembly and when the parents arrive. Then you both come with me to look in his room."
He turned to his sister. "Laura, you're to go to Charlie. I don't want you in this dorm when it all comes down. Because in the chance that he is that kind of person we all hope he's not…he'd be armed, and things would get ugly fast."
The bell for assembly rang and everyone looked up. Laura's heart dropped to her toes. Time was up. It was time to go. And yet she felt that if they didn't act and act soon, it would be too late.
One thing was certain, she decided as she joined the group in leaving the room. She and Noel will have to take matters into their own hands. And as they all crowded, heading outside, she saw Spencer staring at Adam who was placidly listening to something a boy named Nicholas was saying. He was distracted.
She stood by his pocket, and with careful hands that would've made the old Felix proud, she lifted the key from him.
If no one was going to do anything…she would just have to take matters into her own hands.
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Hawthorne
Jul 24, 2014 15:25:49 GMT -5
via mobile
Post by HburgEagle44 on Jul 24, 2014 15:25:49 GMT -5
HOLY CRAP. Things are a bit exciting. L oved the wonderland part!
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Post by tonilous on Jul 25, 2014 4:30:57 GMT -5
Purgatory (Part 3)
(Parents' Night)
With all of the students with certain eccentricities in the school, it couldn't be helped that a new student, like Charlotte, would be curious to see what their families would be like. Certainly the crazy fruit didn't fall that far from the tree. She was pretty sure that the Twins must've hit every crazy branch down the tree before landing. While she stood in the grounds, assembled with the other students of Jefferson, she tried to look to the direction of the front gate and see if her own mother and stepfather had arrived. She had asked them if Alex was coming along—some parents brought a sibling along to watch the performances—but Alex had declined in favor of choir practice, since Regionals was fast approaching.
Charlotte almost groaned when she remembered that after this mess, Regionals was also in the Pipers' plate, and that they had also better get cracking on it.
Right now, none of the students could focus on anything else even as the Headmaster started to deliver an announcement to them all from where he stood with the teachers at the top of the courtyard steps. The school gates sat open at the moment, and cars were already pulling in, mostly from the parents of the day students. The students were gathered in the grounds, especially the boarders, to welcome their parents in. Some of the students were particularly looking forward to this, especially those who live a great distance from their families.
Patrick was fidgeting so much that he kept trying to straighten his tie. Diana put up with this for about ten minutes before she grabbed the tie and yanked the knot up so tight that Patrick practically choked. "What's with you?" Diana demanded incredulously. "Cut it out! It's going to be all right. Why are you so nervous?"
"I can't help it!" Patrick protested with a cough as he pulled the knot back down. "My parents have never come to school events before!"
"But you just kept telling me that they don't like to draw attention to themselves."
Patrick grumbled, "They don't like drawing attention to themselves…and me."
"Why?"
"Okay look," Patrick now looked at his best friend. "Whatever happens, do not freak out. I have it under control."
"If you say so…" Diana said doubtfully, still wondering if her friend had gone a little further down the deep end.
Charlotte looked up when Damian closed his hand over hers and smiled. "Hey, your parents here yet?"
"Not yet," Charlotte replied, smiling. "I don't think it'll be much of a surprise for them, though. They've met all of you. They're looking forward to mainly the entire program, apparently."
"So did you end up dressing them after all?" Damian grinned.
Charlotte groaned like someone who had suffered through a plague. "I tried my best, but Henry drew the line on the dinner jacket. Mom was more compliant."
Grace laughed shakily from next to her. "Well I'm glad I don't have that kind of problem." She was biting her nails so much that when Shane saw blood, he swatted the hands away from Grace's mouth. "Stop…" he scolded lightly, staring at her in concern. "You're going to be fine; it's just your mother coming, right?"
Grace gave her newly christened whatever-he-was-that-wasn't-a-friend-but-actually-hadn't-clarified-if-he-was-a-boyfriend a deadpan expression. "…I'm sorry, have you met my mother?"
"What about your parents," Charlotte remarked to Damian, looking at him and trying to see how his nerves were doing. But if the way Damian was gripping her hand is any indication, he wasn't doing so well. She had never seen her boyfriend look so anxious before.
Damian glanced at her and gave her a quick, tight smile that was meant to reassure her. "Yeah. I can handle this. I've got this. It's all under control, it's all fine." A pause. "…are you sure you don't want to just skip all this and just let me—"
"Your parents wanted to meet me, and meet me they will," Charlotte replied. She looked at him intently. "Right now, I don't care what your dad will say. What he did to you was wrong." When she closed her eyes she could almost see that scene: Shane hiding in the kitchen, Damian flying into the gun case, and so many tears. "He shouldn't have hurt you the way he did. He's your father, and you're his son."
"If he thinks he's going to stop me from being with you…" Damian shook his head but kept looking at Charlotte intently, "…he's got another thing coming. We both waited too long for this. I'm not letting him take this happiness away from me. From the both of us. We've had enough."
Charlotte smiled a little and nodded. "Then we're in this together."
Damian nodded, squeezing her hand. Charlotte glanced to the two next to her. "How about you, Shane? You look like you're cold; you're shaking."
"What are you talking about?"
"I've been trained by Coach Thibault—I can acutely detect the scent of fear." Charlotte raised an eyebrow. "And feed on it."
Shane winced. "I…may be just a little bit anxious."
"This ready-fire-aim style of yours is going to get you into trouble…" Grace grumbled, peeling her fingers from Shane's grip. "I need these to paint, please and thank you…"
"Sorry." Shane looked embarrassed as he looked around. "Aah, I shouldn't be this nervous, really… I need to confront them about what they did to Minah—"
"How is Minah anyway?" Damian suddenly asked. In all this excitement about Shane and Grace finally getting their act together, they had overlooked the quiet reader. "I haven't heard from her or Becca and Erin all day. How did she take all this?"
"You can ask her yourself…" came a quiet voice behind them as Minah approached, smiling faintly. "She's right here."
Charlotte stared at her with a short laugh. "What are you doing here?"
"I asked her to come," Grace replied, smiling. "I thought Shane could use the support," she added, as the taller girl nodded a greeting to Charlotte and Damian.
Shane turned scarlet at the sight of Minah, who just smiled faintly as she adjusted her glasses a little. The reader told the little artist, "Glad to see you took my advice, Grace…"
"Well this is me returning the favor," Grace answered, smiling up at her. "You said you always thought you could've said something to Shane and Damian's father. Well…" she nodded over to the approaching cars. "When they get here, you'll get your chance too. We'll both stay."
Minah looked a little unsure and glanced at Shane who also didn't look completely confident on that part. Grace remained oblivious as the two of them managed to somehow get a message across merely by staring at each other, in the way that friends did after knowing the other so well. Minah took Shane's elbow and said, "Excuse me, Grace—I just need a word with him for a minute."
Grace blinked, not noticing anything, and just shook out her still-smarting hand after Shane's grip. "Okay, sure."
"Hey—!" Shane protested as Minah pulled him along and said to Damian, "Would you join us for a second, Damian?"
Charlotte smirked at Damian who looked at her apologetically before going with them as Charlotte moved up to Grace and swatted her friend's hand away from her mouth again.
From a short way off, Minah looked down at Shane, eyes soft from behind the glasses. "You can do it. You can tell him."
"I don't want her to hurt—"
"It's not going to happen again, Shane," Minah replied, putting her hand on Shane's shoulder. "That was then. We were scared. We're not scared anymore. You have to fight for this if you really want it."
"But Grace, she's…she's not like you, all right? She doesn't have what you—"
"Then she'll have to be. She'll have to be strong and take it."
"It shouldn't be her at all. It's me. I'm the one who has to deal with this."
"It's never just you," Damian responded simply. "You don't have to do this alone. You're not alone, we're right here with you, do you understand?" He exhaled and put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "I know you want to do something, and you think you have to do it by yourself. I know that you blamed yourself a lot for what happened before and you've never really stopped. This was never your fault, Shane. Or…if anything…it wasn't you who did it all. You forget that we chose our way of dealing with it too. That we were all just doing what we thought was best at the time."
"Look…" Minah said, looking intently at him. "We lost our chance, Shane. And I can accept that. But I can't accept you still thinking to this day that it's all your doing. …I haven't seen you this happy in…" she stopped and laughed softly, "…ever. If you want to fight…we're here to back you up. Okay…?" She looked at Damian, too. "All of us. We have to settle this thing that happened to the three of us. We were the only ones left. …we have to stick together."
"Not quite the only ones…" Damian replied, smiling a little as he glanced back to where Charlotte and Grace stood, Charlotte straightening Grace's tie and trying to fix the pin on her lapel. "We're lucky enough to find our way to people who understand us."
"Aaand here comes trouble," Patrick said from a way off as he saw some of the parents that they recognized. The boarding students now looked up as their parents began to arrive. Mothers and fathers descended upon their children, hugging them or chastising them depending on their relationship.
The other good thing about Parents' Night are those moments that, if you were the one involved, you totally loathed, but if it happened to someone else, you had to laugh.
A tall, hardy man with a streak of gray in his dark hair and looking very friendly walked up to the Jeffersons, with his pretty light-haired wife digging through her purse for something. He seemed to look around for a moment, then found his son, who he clapped so hard on the back that he was nearly sent sprawling, coughing. "Hey there, Jolly Roger!"
While struggling through the coughs, Charlie looked like he wanted the earth to open up and eat him alive. He clutched at his brows. "Oh my g—" He turned to his father and stared at him with wide eyes. "Charlie. I don't care if you want to call me Charles or whatever, just please, just stick to the Charlie."
Mr. Amos looked perplexed. "What's wrong with Roger? When you were little—and that pirate ship—"
Charlie flailed at his father as the Jeffersons started to grin with an evil glint in their eyes, guaranteeing to their prefect that he will never live this down. "Please—just—stick with the Charlie."
"Hey, Mr. A!" The Twins grinned happily, materializing next to their prefect who visibly winced at how suddenly happy they looked.
"Hello, boys!" replied the man, smiling. "Still making things rough for my boy, eh?"
"Please don't encourage them, dad, please…"
"Oh we're definitely taking good care of Jolly Roger here," the Twins grinned brightly as Charlie groaned, horrified.
"Charles, look at you…" his mother now spoke up, tutting as she tried to smooth down his lapels and fix his pin. "You really have to take better care of yourself, dear—"
"Mom, I'm fine," Charlie protested as she tried to comb his hair now.
"Oh so Charlie has that kind of a family?" Charlotte smirked as Charlie's father continued to chuckle good-humoredly with the twins as his mother continued to fuss over him, making Charlie look supremely uncomfortable.
"Holy crap!" came a gutshot tone from the Adams House contingent as soon as a black Range Rover pulled up. Derek was staring in horror. "They're early, why are they early?"
"Be a man!" Louisa hissed at him, trying to push him forward. "You can do this, you're fine!"
"They're gonna see my grades and they're going to hurt me."
"Your grades are perfect, now get up!" Thaddeus snapped, dragging the "acting" prefect along.
"What are they going to say if they find out that that my GPA is at a standstill instead of going up?"
"Derek, you're being ridiculous." The Adams grabbed him and all but threw him towards the stately man and woman who emerged from the vehicle, looking around at the lights. It was only in times like these when they actually see Derek more flustered than when he was being chased by four girlfriends at the same time.
As soon as he was out in the open, Derek hastily shed his anxious personae and pulled himself up to face his parents, while still looking white in the face. "Mom. Dad."
Mr. Ernest Siegerson nodded at his son and sighed around at the school, looking a little bit nostalgic and at the same time as though he couldn't bear to breathe its air again. "How are you doing at school?"
"It's what you're here to find out, right?" Derek replied coolly.
"Derek," Mrs. Siegerson looked at him disapprovingly. Then she added, "And where are your friends…?"
One is drugged, the other is babysitting… "They must be off to see their own parents."
"Fine, fine…" Mrs. Siegerson dusted some invisible lint off the sleeve of her linen blazer and said to her son, "You're doing well, I hope?"
"Keeping your grades up, and keeping up with sports?" Mr. Siegerson asked his son. "Any scouts come to you yet about scholarship?"
Derek remained rooted to the spot. "Yes, I kept my grades up, but…no, no scholarship yet."
Mr. Siegerson's brows jumped just slightly, abut he just glanced away with another sigh as though he expected it. "That's too bad…"
"Derek, you should focus a little more on your academics, you spend too much time just…hanging out…" Mrs. Siegerson said in the tone of someone who was partially distracted as she looked at her phone for any messages from work.
The Adams looked uncomfortable at this grilling and tried to busy themselves by looking as though they weren't listening. This was broken when a bright cry of happiness rang out from Washington side.
Charlotte looked up when she saw a man and a woman were running quickly to the Washingtons, looking tearfully happy. From their ranks broke Merril, with her hair still long and over her shoulders, and she all but practically jumped at them. "Hi Uncle Simon, Aunt Patty!" she said, looking very happy and tearful.
Charlotte smiled, and she felt a little warmed by the scene. So it looked like she wasn't the only one who had truly supportive family. She watched as Spencer smiled, walking up to the aunt and uncle, and they all chatted amiably, shaking hands with the tall boy.
Charlotte suddenly felt a warm hand on her shoulder and she turned around to see Henry beaming down at her. "Hey, Charl!"
It wasn't like she hadn't seen Henry for a long time. She did come home on the weekends, and sometimes even when it wasn't (Jeffersons were apparently still having difficulty understanding what a curfew actually meant). But for some reason, tonight, when all of the students' parents were coming around and greeting them each in their own ways, Charlotte's heart swelled at the sight of her stepfather looking kind, warm and welcoming, and realizing in that moment just how much she missed being home.
Henry laughed at the sudden hug that Charlotte gave him. "Well, I missed you too…"
Charlotte grinned, shrugging a little as she looked up at her father, feeling very glad to see him. "I couldn't help it. I'm just glad you're here."
"You doing okay?" Henry asked as Ellen took her turn in giving her daughter a big hug. Charlotte returned her hug and smiled at her mom. "How are things back home?"
"As well as can be expected," Ellen replied, smiling. "You know those friends of yours from Huntington really miss you. When Alex has them over they tell us that a lot. Ask about you a lot."
Charlotte blinked, a little surprised, and then laughed softly. "They act like I don't talk to them all the time through text."
"Well, seeing you in person is different," her mother replied with a knowing smile. Charlotte nodded, making a mental note to schedule a day out with Natasha and Austin in the near future.
"Hey, Mrs. Geraghty," Damian piped up, coming up next to Charlotte.
"Hello, Damian," Ellen replied, beaming down at her daughter's boyfriend. "You taking care of my daughter? Not, that she needs it…" she added when Charlotte gave her a rather indignant frown.
"I try, but we do live in a madhouse," Damian replied, grinning.
"Are your parents coming too, Damian?" Henry asked pleasantly.
Damian's smiled faltered a little and he replied, "They're—yes, they're coming too, they're on their way." He looked at Charlotte, and his girlfriend gave him a charming smile. For a moment, Damian stared.
My heart stops when I look at you…
He felt better instantly as he smiled back at her with a small nod. Charlotte nodded back a little, a mutual understanding that they now shared, and turned toward her parents again as they continued to ask her questions about tonight's program, her performance, and why those "nice kids" haven't visited in a while. While Charlotte tried to deter them from inviting the crazy back to Huntington, Damian looked around to check about the other student's parents. He knew Charlie was still getting swamped by his own parents, so he might need some help in that department.
To his amusement, he saw House Head Burkhart already talking to a pair of very interesting parents. There was a tall dark-haired man with a big friendly grin wearing a printed sweater made to look like the armor of a storm trooper. The lady next to him had curly red hair and was dressed in a flowing dress and there was a thin circle of gold around her head.
"But he's doing okay?" the man asked, looking amused.
"I still encourage him to get out more," Mrs. Burkhart replied, looking rather perplexed.
"Hey mom! Dad!" Han hurried up to them with a big grin and the lady received him with a big embrace.
"There's our little Warrior," Mrs. Westwood said, looking very happy. Han peeled away from her a little before she could kiss his cheeks in public, and his father clapped him on the back, looking proud and grinning at the sight of the WoW pins on his blazer.
Han grinned up at his father, then turned to his mother. "Mom, why are you dressed up like Arwen?"
"I most certainly am not," she replied, but was grinning.
"You're wearing your Evenstar, mom."
Mrs. Westwood only giggled.
Charlotte saw where Damian was looking and grinned, finally realizing that Han's eccentricity gene was genetic. His parents looked about as culture-crazy as he was, so it didn't surprise her that they let him spend so much time in front of the computer. Or give him leeway to all that computer hardware for that matter.
"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Geraghty!" said Grace cheerfully, coming up to them with Shane. "I'm Grace. It's really nice to meet you at last!"
"Oh, so you're the little fashion-friend Charlotte mentions," Ellen said, giving her a hug and a big smile. "I think Charlotte's wardrobe expanded considerably after you two came back from New York last Christmas."
Both Grace and Charlotte laughed at that, and as Charlotte explained how Grace's mother was a fashion editor, she looked up at the corner of her eye, just like everyone else, when someone came up the drive. He didn't have a car, he didn't have anything other than the clothes on his back, as it would appear, and he was neatly dressed—but all it took was for him to take off the sunglasses off to look around curiously and Charlotte recognized him.
Clark Sawyer. The TV star.
Grace glanced up and jumped. "Oh, I'm—I'm so sorry, Mrs. Geraghty!" she said hastily to Ellen. "There's someone I need to get to! I'll be right back, I'm so sorry." And she hastily broke out of the crowd.
By now, the six-foot-five star was talking to Burkhart, and Grace ran to him. "Clark!"
There was a burst of laughter from the tall boy as soon as he spotted her. "Hey!" he said, giving her a quick hug and patted her shoulder heavily. Pleasantly surprised, Charlotte looked at Damian. "Did you know he was coming?"
"No, but he looks like the backup Grace needs for her mother," Damian replied, smiling at how happy Grace looked to see the tall boy.
It was now that Shane chose to freak out. His hands tightened like a vise onto his brother's arm, nearly cutting off Damian's circulation entirely. "Damian!" he stared, wide-eyed. "Whoisthat."
"Oh he still does that?" Minah asked, beaming.
"Yes…" Damian winced, glowering at his brother. "You act like you don't watch TV. That's—"
"Iknowwhothatis! WhyishetalkingtoGracelikethat?"
"You're so unsettled…" Minah said, with a very amused smirk.
Shane grumbled. "…he's too tall for her. Like a big blond giant."
Damian made to say something, but, true to form, Shane rushed forward ahead and zipped right up to where Grace as looking up at Clark. He at least hovered around the periphery for a moment, looking anxious and Grace caught sight of him bobbing at the edge of her field of vision and looked at him with a smile. "Hi, Shane."
"Hey," Clark said with a smile at the skinny little dancer and extended a hand. "It's nice to meet you."
"Hi, I'm Shane!" he said almost too loudly, shaking his hand attempting to give it a firm grip to show off his strength. Sadly, Clark was obviously stronger without trying. As it was, this was an incredible amount of self-restraint form the younger McGinty as Charlotte, Damian, and Minah looked on with amused expressions, waiting for the shoe to drop. "Grace and I are really close! Like—really! Aren't we, Grace?"
Grace blinked at him, perplexed, and nodded a little to Clark. "Yes…"
Clark seemed to not notice Shane's attempt to draw himself to his full height so as to look more intimidating, and simply failed. Especially when Clark beamed and said, "I'm Clark. I'm Grace's stepbrother. Came to give her some moral support."
That floored Shane, jaw dropping. "…what?"
Damian, Charlotte, and Minah snickered loudly from behind him, making him turn around to glare at them; they all gave him expectant, innocent smiles in response. He looked at Grace, who clearly didn't detect anything—probably just didn't know any better—and was just blinking at him. Shane immediately cracked a goofy grin. "Oh so he's your brother."
"Yes," Grace blinked. "Why?"
"Nothing!" Shane's grin was so big that he looked like his head would pop open like Pez dispenser. "Absolutely. I'm great. I'm fine."
Clark wasn't nearly as dense. He gave Shane a curious expression, and then one to Grace, who only blinked back at him. But Clark only smiled and said, "Is Hilde here yet?"
As Grace shook her head, Charlotte looked up to see Patrick—
—getting literally tackled to the ground by four squealing girls in very nice dresses.
"Patrick!" the others chorused, running to him quickly, trying to get the girls off him. Patrick was groaning but didn't look particularly alarmed.
"Guys—I mean, girls—you're crushing my ribs!" he choked.
"We're so sorry, Pattie!" The second tallest girl said, hastily getting up along with the rest of them as the others grabbed Patrick's arms and hauled him back to his feet. "We didn't mean to, we were just so happy to see you!"
Patrick blanched immediately at the nickname. "Please don't do that."
"Do what, Pattie?" the oldest girl, who looked like she was well into college, was dusting Patrick off in a rather motherly fashion.
"That, stop calling me that!" Patrick protested, squirming from her grip. The two smaller girls hugged him like he was their teddy bear. One of them had to still be in grade school.
Diana, who really did truly enjoy seeing her friend flustered and floored like this—Patrick usually called dibs on moments of coolness between them—draped an arm over her friend's shoulders before greeting the older two girls. "Hello Vicky, Romy," she said, nodding to them.
"Hi Di-Di!" the younger one, Romy, said. "Are you and Pattie dating now? Patrick said—"
At this, Patrick reached forward and clasped his hand on her mouth. "Okay! Enough of that!"
"Oh hi, Di!" the older one, Vicky, replied, ignoring her brother. "Your parents not here yet?"
"No, but dad always delays before setting foot back here," Diana replied, smiling. "Honestly, he's the alumni, you'd think he wants to come back."
"Where are mom and dad?" Patrick asked, looking a little apprehensive.
While it was one thing to consider that there really were just some siblings who didn't look like each other a whole lot—in Patrick's case, he really didn't look like his sisters, unless you counted the fact that they were all dark-haired and had a beautiful tone in their skin—it was something of a surprise to find that he looked like neither of his parents either.
Mr. and Mrs. Hughes emerged from their large car and Mrs. Hughes was clearly the definition of a Mediterranean beauty. Both the second sister Romy and the littlest sister looked like her strikingly. Mr. Hughes was clearly from a similar origin, tall and a little broad, with his dark hair graying already as well. His eyes and stocky build were taken by Vicky, the eldest, and the second youngest girl.
Charlotte, feeling rather surprised, looked at Patrick, who, for some reason, now really did look a little bit like the odd one out among them. Patrick wasn't looking at anyone or anything except for the ground for a moment, but he went to his parents.
Mrs. Hughes looked tearfully happy to see him and gave him a big hug. "I'm so glad you're doing well and are safe, sweetheart," she said, patting his cheek. "We miss you at home."
Mr. Hughes waited until his wife was done embracing Patrick very tightly before he too gave him a quick tight hug and a heavy pat between the shoulder blades. He was much taller than his son. "Are you all right here? No one giving you any trouble we should know about?"
Patrick blanched so fast that Charlotte thought someone threw powder into his face. "I'm fine!" he said quickly, trying to alleviate a currently non-urgent worry. "Everything's great. Perfect, even. Haha…why did you suddenly decide to come?"
"Well…you've been performing all this time, we decided it would be good to come see you for once," Mr. Hughes said gruffly. "Victoria says that you seemed a little neglected."
"You don't think that, do you, Patrick?" Mrs. Hughes said, concerned. "If you feel that way, you have to tell us—really, we can send Bobby over and pack up your stuff right away—"
"Mom, I'm fine!" Patrick replied quickly, smiling a little and patting her arm. "Vicky's overreacting—I'm fine! I'm happy here. I have friends." He remembered Diana instantly and gestured for her to come forward.
Diana felt a little surprised now but she stepped up next to her friend. Mr. and Mrs. Hughes looked over her, looking curious. Patrick said, "This is my best friend, Diana. I think I've mentioned her."
"We've heard a lot about you from Patrick," Mrs. Hughes smiled, shaking her hand. "It's a pity we only meet now."
While she said this, Mr. Hughes studied Diana in a way that was familiar to many of the people watching—he was looking at her as though trying to immediately determine what kind of a person she was. However, there seemed to be nothing particularly off about Diana—not right now, anyway—and so he too smiled a little and gave her a firm handshake.
One of Patrick's sisters, the smallest one, was holding a clutch purse. She was giggling with the one closest to her age, and pointing a little at the Twins, who were clowning and making faces at them. Charlotte frowned at the Twins and was going to tell them to behave a little in front of the other parents (since Patrick's parents had just met them all, he didn't want them to have to meet the Twins the way her parents had to), when the little girl giggled so much that she dropped her purse.
Charlotte saw one of the big sturdy-looking men who came with Patrick's parents (there were more than two, and they looked like bodyguards, keeping a watchful eye on the Hughes) go over and bend down to pick it up. And then Charlotte's eyes widened to their fullest extent when she saw a flash of black metal at the man's belt.
Damian felt his wrist get grabbed and he looked up to see just a quick flash of the gun before it vanished into the man's jacket again when he straightened up to give the little girl her bag. "Thanks, Bobby," she told him with a big smile.
Charlotte and Damian looked at each other, very startled. But if they thought that was startling—
"Oooh, what is that?" Logan suddenly said, materializing next to "Bobby" and pointing towards where the weapon was hidden. "We have those too, but different." He held up his brightly-colored nerf gun.
"Is that real?" Lucas said, eyed wide from the other side, trying to get a look at the hidden weapon. "Is that a real gun, man?"
At the word, everyone near them looked up as Charlotte's jaw dropped, giving the twins an expression that clearly demanded if they had lost their minds. Mr. Hughes frowned at Bobby, who looked startled and embarrassed, pulling up his jacket immediately—Patrick looked white in the face—and Burkhart, who had overheard, came running. With her was Mr. Newman, the House Head of Washington, and Felix.
"Move along, don't linger about and wait for your parents," Burkhart scolded them slightly, trying to move the Twins off. The Twins stumbled back to the other conspirators, looking more curious than worried.
"Mr. Hughes!" Mr. Newman said in his usual even tone.
Patrick's father looked a little irritated, but moved away with his worried-looking wife to speak to the teachers. "We've spoken about this before—this is a school, sir—" the students heard the teachers say as Felix moved them away.
"Nothing to see here," he told them. "Move along. Your parents should be getting here any second or you should be attending to them!"
"That guy had a gun!" Grace gasped up at the tall Washington leader.
Felix dropped his face into his hand before looking up again to glower at the twins who looked expectant. By now only the conspirators remained not far from the Hughes', and Felix looked around to see if anyone was listening. He looked wide-eyed at Patrick now.
Patrick groaned and dragged a hand down his face. "Oh man."
"Gonna have to tell them sooner or later, Pattie," Felix smirked a little. "At least you know your mates can keep a secret." He patted them heavily on the shoulder before he walked off to try and find the Adams prefect, who was clearly missing in action and not doing his duties.
"Don't call me that!" Patrick flailed after him as the conspirators, except Diana, snickered. He grumbled and looked back at them.
"You've got bodyguards?" the twins asked, fascinated. "Your family? Dude, what does your family do?"
"I thought your parents owned restaurants!" Diana said, looking at her friend, confused and staring at him.
Charlotte gave him a questioning glance. "And your mother looked primarily happy to have you "safe." Is there something we should know about?"
Everyone started talking all at the same time, alternating between worried and amused—none of them had any inkling about any of this and to see Patrick so worked up about it was disconcerting.
Patrick cringed and finally threw up his hands. "I've been adopted by the mafia, okay?"
There really was nothing like just saying it. Everyone stared at him as though he'd sprouted a third arm. "Excuse me…?" Damian stared. Diana's mouth hung open, and she looked speechless. The Twins' eyes were very wide.
Patrick sighed deeply and gestured to where the adults were talking, his sisters nearby. "…you…must have noticed that I don't actually look like them."
Everyone looked at each other. Patrick turned back to them, rubbing his temple like he had a migraine. "I can't tell you much, mainly because I'm not allowed to, and second, there's not much time. It's a really long crime-lord related political story but what you need to know was that my dad was in a tight spot. He'd always wanted a son. And you saw that they tried four times and ended up with girls. And then trouble happened, because if he didn't have an heir, someone to pass the…uh…"business" to…someone else would take it."
Patrick sighed, glancing to his father again. "But mainly…he really wanted a little boy to call his own. Not that he didn't love my sisters…but…you know some dads just do. And he in particular needed one as much as he wanted one. People told dad to "adopt" a nephew or someone close to those involved to take over. But he didn't trust them. It was a sticky situation. A big power climb. He and mom did something that I don't think has been done before—he adopted me, when I was seven. I've been in the orphanage as long as I remember, I learned how to sing there and everything, and…I have nothing to remember my birth parents by anyway."
He smiled at his friends. "When mom and dad went to adopt one of the kids, I was so sure they wouldn't take me. I'd met with so many other parents, and they didn't take me. So you can imagine how surprised I was when they said that they were going to be my parents now. They love me very much—I'm actually pretty badly spoiled, you know, mom said they and my sisters were pretty crazy about me—but they were sure that they and I were in trouble."
"Why?" Charlotte, who had been listening spellbound, asked.
"Because I wasn't…you know…really born to them." Patrick looked down. "All I know is that some people got very upset. They threatened dad. But dad just told them that as far as he was concerned, he loved me as much as any child born to him and mom, and that I was going to take over our side of the family no matter what. I don't remember what happened, but they said that they heard someone was trying to…" he made a vague gesture. "deal with me." He exhaled. "They panicked. They didn't want me in harm's way. So they sent me away out of the state, here. To a boarding school a way off. So I'd be away most of the time and where no one would think of finding me."
Patrick shrugged lightly. "But they spoke to Newman and Lowell when I was brought here. No one knows anything about me except some of the guys at Washington. It's also why they've never visited before. Vicky and Romy came to see me, but if the folks went, they thought it'd attract too much attention."
He sighed and opened his arms. "And that's the story. You don't have to believe me, but…" He looked up at them, and then his eyes rested on Diana. "…I hope you understand why I couldn't tell you guys. I was pretty happy just being Patrick Hughes with the restaurateur parents. Didn't want to drag in the other story with me when I went to merry Jefferson." He smiled faintly. "…sorry, guys."
Silence.
The conspirators kept staring at him, very frankly baffled. Charlotte looked at Damian, who looked at the Twins, who looked at Grace, who then looked at Diana. Diana just stared at Patrick in complete amazement. The others, however, didn't hesitate. In a single mass they all jumped at Patrick and tackled him to the ground, laughing and cheering.
"Oh dude, you are cool!" the Twins yelled, happily glomping him. "Do you know how awesome you are? That's the second most amazing story we've ever heard!"
"It's like from a movie!" Grace laughed.
"It's so not awesome and cool!" Patrick grunted from under the pile in complaint, but sounding relieved all the same. "I'm a going to be a freaking crime lord! And I love mom and dad to the edge of my life and all but I don't like being the next Godfather…!" and it degenerated into an unintelligible grumble even as they playfully punched and prodded at him, hooting, "We still love you, Pattie! We think you're awesome, Pattie!"
"Okay, that's enough, come on, let him breathe—get off of him before his dad's people do it for you." Diana was hauling the others up. Damian was still snorting back amazed laughter at Patrick, who looked a little chagrined at the situation.
With a strong tug, Diana hauled Patrick to his feet again and smiled. Patrick looked at her and smiled a little.
"Told you, I wouldn't freak out," Diana told him, giving him a quick, tight hug. "You're my best friend."
Patrick laughed. "Thanks, Diana. I just…I didn't think you needed that kind of a background story from me. You've got enough to deal with."
It was then when Mrs. Hughes came running up to them. "Patrick Jonathan Hughes, what is going on here?" she gasped, clutching her purse and her shawl and looking worried.
"Oh you know you're in trouble when they break out the full name," Diana muttered to her best friend with a smirk.
"We're fine, mom," Patrick smiled at her, giving her a hug. "I'm fine. Really. I'm…" and he glanced back to the rest of the Jeffersons who were beaming at him. "…I'm with my friends."
Mrs. Hughes stared at her son, looking perplexed, and then at the smiling teens with him. She looked at her dear only son who she so often wondered about, if he was happy, or sad, if he was sick or healthy, if he felt loved or abandoned by being sent so far away.
But she saw him smile, and the way he smiled at his friends, and his beautiful best friend Diana, and she felt that maybe it was going to be okay. She smiled and patted her son's cheek. "You're growing up very quickly, Pattie. I'm so sorry we're missing it."
The others laughed as Patrick cringed at the nickname but smiled at his mother. His mother then walked off to the rest of Patrick's family. "Don't say it," Patrick told the others before turning to look at Diana. "Do you have a few minutes? I have to tell you something."
Charlotte stepped away to look for her parents and found them in conversation with the Amoses—Henry and Mr. Amos seemed to be chatting away about sports while Ellen and Mrs. Amos were talking about their respective children's hobbies.
She smiled and went to them, hoping to lead them into Orion where the first part of the program would be, when she heard a voice carry through the crowd.
"Damian? Shane?"
A woman. He turned and saw Mrs. McGinty getting out of a limousine and heading for her sons with a big, rather tremulous smile. Charlotte saw the color evaporate from Damian's face and she touched Henry's arm. "Hey, can you give me another second? I have to—um…I have to be with Damian to talk to someone for a minute? If you want you can just go ahead to—"
"Oh no, no, we're fine!" Henry told her, smiling.
Charlotte nodded, "I'll be right back, okay?"
Mrs. McGinty was already with her two sons, the younger of whom immediately gave her a big hug and a bright smile. "Hey, mom."
"Hello, Shane…" she was looking him over. "Well you really got recuperated pretty fast." She blinked at him. "Is Northampton really that good for you, sweetie?"
Shane just laughed, a little awkwardly and wondering how exactly to explain that he got better so quickly because he was among people who not only were his friends but also because of one particular girl… He glanced to where Grace was, who surprisingly was having a chat with Minah, who had an art book open and seemingly asking him questions.
"Damian," said Mrs. McGinty, smiling at her son in a way that looked more hopeful than anything, as though she wasn't sure if she was even going to get a response from him. "Hi, sweetheart. How are you…?"
"I'm good," Damian replied with a small smile. "I'm doing good."
He squeezed her hand, not really sure of what to do. He wanted to run into her arms like Shane did, and she seemed like she wanted to take him into his arms, but there was an awkward air there, especially after the incident in Colorado. The two haven't seen each other since then, and that time had been a quick moment, and highly emotional. Right now, they had no idea where they stood. But Damian could see that his mother was pleased to see him.
He felt Shane grip his arm, and he looked up to see his father emerging from the car behind their mother. Now, Damian might not have been home for a while, but he knew that when his father and mother arrived and his mother ran ahead while his father lagged behind, they usually would have been arguing in the car on the way.
The start wasn't auspicious and even Shane knew that. Mr. McGinty already didn't look thrilled as he walked up to his family. "Shane, you've been here too long," he said without so much as a greeting to either son. "You can't just keep slacking off like this. You have to go back to Colorado and continue on your school year."
"Honey…" Mrs. McGinty whispered, "Shane went through an accident—"
"He's walking and bumming around here in Northampton, clearly, he is capable of going to his own classes instead of staying in a school that isn't even his." He gave Damian a look that clearly showed his disapproval. "And you've been here all this time, and you don't bother to tell your brother off? Don't you care about what happens to his future? Because even if you don't look around so much about yours, you can at least tell Shane—"
"Dad, my being here is my choice!" Shane burst out, looking desperate. There was no way he was going to let Damian take the fault this time. "Damian wanted me to go back but I'm the one who wanted to stay—I was the one who wanted to be here—I want to be here!"
"Shane and I would like to talk about that, by the way," Damian suddenly said, drawing himself up in front of his father and a hard expression in his eyes. Surprised, the younger McGinty looked at the older one. And Damian added, "About a couple of things, actually, that we want you to know."
"Really," Mr. McGinty frowned down at his elder son, looking displeased. "Do you really want to do this here, Damian? This is ridiculous, your mother and I did not come all this way to hear the both of you complain about how badly things are going for you when we have both done nothing but make sure that you a well provided for. Am I not correct that there is some kind of…amateur program involved that we should be getting to—"
"No, dad," Damian finally said, stepping up to his father and eyes intent. "You're here because it's Parents' Night. And what people usually do on their Parents' Nights is that they genuinely care about how their children are doing. If we're doing well or if we're having trouble, if we're happy or if we were miserable. All of those things, they come here and they hear about us, their kids and usually that involves talking to us too. That is the point of this night, dad!"
Some heads had turned now. Shane was openly staring at his brother, aghast. Mrs. McGinty stared at her elder son, not quite sure of what to make of this. Quickly, in an effort to save face, she pulled Shane along. The younger McGinty seemed to twist away from her for a moment until she realized that she was ushering all of them towards a more secluded spot under one of the trees in the gardens. Mr. McGinty followed his wife but he glared down at his elder son, and Damian, who was a little breathless after that outburst, looked up when he felt someone come up next to him as soon as he stopped at the tree.
It was Charlotte, who was looking at Mr. and Mrs. McGinty with a placid expression on her elegant features. She glanced at Damian once, as though to tell him she was here. Damian's initial fire immediately cooled at the sight of her—like a fire hot blade taken out of the forge and thrust into water, hardened and made stronger. He looked at his father, and without warning, clasped Charlotte's hand.
This surprised the girl for a moment, but Damian didn't look at her and simply said to his parents, "You said you wanted to meet my…my girlfriend. I remember you saying that. So you get your chance. She's right here."
Both parents were silent. Mrs. McGinty tucked her hair behind her ear with a shaky sigh and glanced surreptitiously at her husband, who was even less pleased now. Mr. McGinty grumbled, "I knew coming here was going to be a bad idea and a waste of time…"
"Dad!" Shane protested, staring at him.
"I'm not going to stand here and let your brother make a fool of us, Shane!" Mr. McGinty barked at his youngest, who quailed.
"I make a fool of you when I tell the truth, dad…?" Damian asked in a soft tone that almost cracked. He stared at him with wide eyes. "It's been a while since we last talked about this, did you think that between then and now, I was going to suddenly change my mind…like it was this choice that I made on a whim…?"
"I can't have this conversation again, Damian."
"We're having it here. Now. I'm going to get to have my say!" Damian stared at him. "Last time we talked about this—the last time, you did all the talking. That was fine. I let it go. It's not easy and I never expected it to be. But I thought…" Tears stung in but did not fall. Damian ploughed on, steeling himself. "I just thought that because I was your son—that if I gave you some time…that maybe just maybe you were going to love me anyway. Shot in the dark here, dad. I'm just saying."
"Damian! Not now." Color was rushing into Mr. McGinty's face.
"We're going to have this talk here, because it's Parents' Night and you're supposed to care!" Damian shot back. "Because I'll never have this chance again! It's not going away because I'm not! I'm still your son—that won't ever change! Please, just—we have to talk about this!"
Mr. McGinty finally exploded, pointing to Charlotte. "Well get your so-called girlfriend out of here!"
Damian started, but Charlotte answered with solid deference, pulling herself to her full height and lifting her head. "I have a name. It's Charlotte. Charlotte Summers. And Mr. McGinty. I'd hate to break it to you, but if Damian needs me, I'm staying right where I am."
"Damian, you tell her to leave right now!"
"Barty!" Mrs. McGinty burst out, looking apprehensive at his tone.
"Why?" Damian said in a low tone. "You were the one who said you wanted to see her."
"Yes and now that I have, it's obvious that you're both clearly too young to understand what is going on with your lives." Mr. McGinty looked Charlotte up and down in a way that made her flush deeply—a sense of humiliation that she felt only when she just recently had the mocking laughter of teens echoing in her ears as they made her look ridiculous in spite of her reserve to bear punishment without real outcry.
Mr. McGinty advanced on Charlotte and Damian immediately leapt forward to block his way when Mr. McGinty was snagged back—Shane was grabbing onto his blazer and looking both scared and angry at the same time. "Don't hurt them!" he almost yelled. "Leave them alone!" When Mr. McGinty looked at him, Shane released his hold and looked at his father. "Can't you see how happy they are? Don't—don't you want that for Damian, dad?"
"Shane—!"
"And what about me?" he yelled. He almost sounded like a little boy begging for attention. "Are you saying that as long as I'm your idea of perfect that you'll love me? What if there was something about me that would make you as angry as you are now at Damian? Are you going to kick me to the curb too? Are you going to throw me out and tell me never to come back the way you did to Minah?"
Mrs. McGinty gasped and looked at Shane. "Shane, that's not—"
"It's true!" he cried to his father. "I know what happened! You threw Minah out you told her never to come back or you'll hurt her! How could you do that to anyone, dad? How could anyone do that…? Don't you know how scared she was already?"
"I did what I had to!" Mr. McGinty snarled back. "I had to get that girl out of there—giving in to these delusions and hanging out with the wrong people isn't going to help Damian stay out of trouble—"
"Mr. McGinty," Charlotte said, to keep him from throttling Shane, "Damian isn't delusional. To this day he's only ever wanted for you to accept him and his choices. It's you who pushes him away, Mr. McGinty."
"Don't you dare lecture me about how I take care of my son!" Mr. McGinty roared.
"Hey!"
Henry Geraghty glowered at Mr. McGinty, looking furious and coming at them like he was going to hurt someone. That someone being Mr. McGinty. "What did you just say to my daughter?" He demanded, coming at them so fast that Charlotte panicked and jumped in front of her father. "Dad—dad, stop! Please—you might end up having another—"
"You don't get to go around talking to my daughter that way!" Henry snarled. "You don't get to do that to my daughter or your son!"
Mr. McGinty blazed back, "You're going to teach me how to take care of my kids—I make sure they have a future! You realize how many doors will slam closed for Damian if he keeps going on like this? You have any idea how hard he's making it for himself? He doesn't have his priorities straight! He needs to make the right choices."
"How is that any harder than knowing that the parents who are supposed to be helping him, supporting him, and encouraging him, and loving him, can barely stand to be in the same breathing space as him? All the while trying to control him?" Henry demanded. "You think you're helping him? How is this helping him?"
He carefully moved Charlotte aside as he advanced on the other father. "I may not know your son as well as you say you do, but I know that he's a great kid and just like all the rest of them, he's doing his best. And he's also young and going through a time when he needs you the most—and your way of helping him is this? Calling him and putting him down—how much more painful can you make it? Look at him! Look at him!"
Mr. McGinty did look. Damian was staring at him as though trying to still find the words to explain. He didn't know what else to do or what to tell his father to make him understand. And he didn't even know what he did to get Henry on his side this way, but whatever it was, it was more than what he expected out of this night. Shane was standing next to him, looking at his brother worriedly. Mrs. McGinty looked at her husband, and then moved to her sons, putting a hand on Shane's arm and trying to calm Damian.
"Mr. McGinty? If I may…" Charlotte looked up at him, "…an incredibly wise man once told me… that the kids' job is to be themselves. And the parents' job is to love them no matter what."
Surprised, Henry looked at his step-daughter who looked at him and smiled slightly through the mists of her eyes. Damian lowered his eyes, letting the tears fall unseen as he tried to catch his breath. Charlotte looked back at Mr. McGinty as she held Damian's hand. "When you look at him, Mr. McGinty…do you see your son? Because if even a small part of you does…I think it's worth trying to give this a chance. Just look."
Mr. McGinty stared hard at his boys, his mouth in a firm line. Damian was gripping Charlotte's hand and the gratitude he gave Henry through his expression went unnoticed for now. When his father looked back at Henry, he looked furious again.
"This is ridiculous, I don't have to stand here and listen to this. Shane—Marlene—let's go. I've had enough of this."
"I'm staying right here," Shane said immediately, staying with Damian, glowering at him. "Tonight, Damian's going to perform onstage with Charlotte and he's going to be amazing and everyone is going to love him, and I'm going to watch. Because I'm his brother and I want to be there for him."
"Dad," Damian said, staring at his father pleadingly. "…please. I want you to be here. I need you to be here."
Mr. McGinty looked at his wife. "Marlene."
Shane looked at their mother. She had frozen upon being called out by her husband. She looked from him, and then at her two sons. Damian was still looking at his father, and Shane looked at her instead. "…mom?"
She looked at her two boys, both of whom seemed so much older than when she'd seen them last. She smiled tightly at them and let go, looking to her husband and walking to him. Shane's heart sank and he held onto his brother, who remained standing quite still with Charlotte.
Mrs. McGinty glanced at Henry with a small nod before she looked to her husband. Her eyes were rimmed red, like she'd been crying. She stopped in front of him. "Barty, I'm staying with the boys."
"Excuse me?" Mr. McGinty stared.
Damian and Shane let out a single breath, aghast. Their mother had never taken their side before. Marlene McGinty let out a shaky breath but held her head up the way Damian was doing now. Her voice trembled only slightly. "I would like to stay with the boys. I want to hear Damian sing. We'll talk…all of us…" she glanced at the boys before back at him, "…back at the hotel. Where it's less…" she glanced around, "…crowded."
Mr. McGinty gaped at her. She nodded to him a little tearfully. "Please go ahead. I'm staying. I'll take care of this—you don't have to be here if you don't want to be."
There was a flurry of invisibly rage and Mr. McGinty bore down at his wife for a moment, almost making the boys jump to stop him, but he stopped just short of her before turning and striding off looking absolutely furious yet white in the face.
No one moved until he was out of sight, headed back to their car.
When the sight of him vanished, Marlene turned to her sons and gave them a small tearful smile. "Let's go to that program now, shall we?"
"Oh mom…" Shane threw himself at her, hugging her tightly and crying with all his might. He really was just like a little boy, the younger one between him and Damian who had to be the stronger one all the time. But even Damian went to his mother and hugged her tight.
"I'm so sorry, boys…" she whispered to them, just audible in the proximity. "I'm so sorry… I'm sorry it took so long for me to—" she choked it back. "—but we're going to fix this okay? Somehow. I want you back. I want my little boys back, I missed you both so much…"
"Missed you too, mom," Damian whispered, buried against her shoulder, eyes hot with crying. "I missed you."
"Mom…?" Shane sobbed just audibly. "I—I really have to tell you something really important though…"
"Oh my little Shane…" Marlene let go of Damian for a minute before putting her hands on Shane's wet, tear-streaked face. "I know, baby. I already know."
Both boys stared at her in complete surprise. Among the surprises tonight, this was the biggest yet, and Shane was understandably more stunned. "What…? Do you… Did you know that I'm…that I…"
"Oh Shane…" Marlene hugged him tight, crying against her son, "…I'm so sorry, Shane… I'm so sorry for everything… I saw you… I saw you hiding in the kitchen. I saw you hiding behind the counter while your father and Damian were fighting about Minah and I just knew what happened—"
Shane dissolved entirely. Damian had to let go—he had to go to Charlotte and hug her tight instead, desperately trying to control himself. This was way too much at one go and Charlotte laughed softly, hugging him back knowing that over all, Damian was relieved. "I'm so glad you're here…" Damian whispered.
"I get to do the saving this time…" Charlotte whispered back. "I did tell you that I'm not your damsel-in-distress."
"You're hardly a damsel…"
"I'm actually a princess, I'll have you know…"
Henry patted their shoulders carefully but firmly. "Damian? I think your mom and brother need you. If they cry any harder, they're gonna need some water…" he almost laughed.
"Thank you, thank you, Mr.Geraghty, seriously." Damian looked up at him quickly. "I don't know what would've happened if you hadn't—"
"Hey, I'm a man who takes my family very seriously." Henry smiled down at Charlotte, rubbing his daughter's arm. "And I have a feeling that you do too. …really hope your dad comes around."
"Well…foot through the door…" Damian replied, glancing back at his mother who was still hugging Shane. "I think we made some progress." He heard a keening whine from Shane signaling that his brother was an inch from another emotional meltdown at whatever his mom just said and Damian looked at Charlotte apologetically. "I…I better go…calm those two down. I'll meet you inside, okay? Is that okay?"
"It's fine," Charlotte replied, smiling. "I'll tell Grace and Minah that Shane is…" she winced at a smothered sob, "…incapacitated."
Damian gave her one last hug. "…I love you."
Charlotte embraced him in return, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "…I love you too." She felt as though they could both breathe. They haven't jumped the hurdle entirely…but they could definitely call that progress.
When she and Henry left the McGintys to get their breaths back, Charlotte looked up at her stepfather as they waked back to the crowds of students and their families. "Dad…?"
"Yeah?"
"…thanks."
"For what?" he asked in a light tone, clapping a hand on her shoulder again.
"…everything, actually," Charlotte replied, smiling at him.
Henry grinned back as Ellen walked up to them. "Everything okay? Sounded like it got a little heated up back there… Henry told me not to come along—"
"Oh that was a very good call," Charlotte replied, smiling. "It's still waterworks everywhere in there. Ugh. You could float the Titanic in there. We decided to give them a little time."
"Looks like you two had it under control," Ellen smiled up and added, "Should we go inside for the first part of this event?"
"Yes, yes," Charlotte said with a laugh.
And yet, just like when Alice thinks there's a way out, the door is too small, and there's something else to overcome. One last thing.
Darren Wright II was at the grounds, with a very frantic Juliet Larson trying to explain to everyone what was going on. This was problem. A big problem. Because clearly, from the way the Jeffersons and Adams—instead of being inside with all the rest of the students and their parents—were surrounding him were marginally freaking out, and the way Darren is standing staring at the moon, the prefect was not well.
"Uh…let me…get back to you. You guys go ahead! Go on, believe me, the guys Culinary Club made some really crazy stuff to go with all the amazing food to go to the buffet—seriously, the Michelin people should come down and throttle them all for crimes against the cooking arts."
"Are you sure?" Ellen asked as Charlotte ushered them along.
"No, really! It'll be fine. Great. I just need to…calm down the madness. As usual. You know how it is…" Charlotte gave her father a last hug. "Thanks dad!"
"We'll see you inside!" she heard Henry call as Charlotte raced towards where the Jefferson conspirators and the Adams Pipers were gathered.
"What is the matter with you?" Derek was fuming as Darren remained relatively harmless, just standing around and just about as useful as a palm tree in the exact same spot. Derek's outburst was directed to Juliet, who clearly had been unable keep the prefect in check.
"What happened?" Charlotte asked breathlessly, coming up to them.
"Where's Damian?" Grace asked, staring at him.
"Family issues. Big ones. He can't be here right now. What happened?"
Juliet looked miserable and frustrated. "I swear, I got up and went to the kitchen to get some water for thirty seconds. Thirty seconds. When I got back, he was already out the door and walking to here! Did you want me to tackle him?"
"And you!" Derek hissed to Bailey. "Your job was to make sure they stay in there!"
"I'm not going to tackle Darren, you realize what he could do to me if he wakes up and he finds out? Hulk Smash is going to have nothing compared to that!" Bailey protested. "Besides, he's like a freaking sleepwalker—you don't push him, he might fall over and hurt himself!"
Well clearly that was a concern, seeing as how Darren remained unresponsive, staring at the sky and looking generally useless right there in the middle of the crowd of students that wondered exactly what they were supposed to do with him. The Twins had taken to prodding Darren's side and seeing if he'll react. To their amusement he only swatted them off lightly without taking his eyes off the courtyard décor.
"Why is he even here?" Charlotte hissed. "He's drugged! You might as well have a dummy prefect made of a sack of wet cement and I doubt if anyone can tell the difference! Bring him back to your dorm!"
"They can't," Bailey remarked, arms crossed. "Because Murdoch's already seen him. And if you ask me, that calmed him down a lot because he's been looking for him and Adams House can't be going around without a prefect in this event!"
"Even one who's like this?" Charlotte demanded and used her index finger to push at Darren firmly.
The boy fell over and fell all over Thaddeus and Louisa, who crashed into the ground with him and groaned. "Oh great," Derek rolled his eyes as the Adams tried to get the others back up on their feet.
"Oh, yeah, this is pretty bad," Charlie blinked as he and Felix stared at their fellow prefect. "How'd this happen again?"
"Very long story," Juliet replied scathingly with a grimace at Charlie. "Our point is—what now?"
"Well we have to get through to him," Felix replied, waving a hand in front of Darren's eyes. "Before anyone else figures out that he's not exactly all there…"
"Talk to him," Bailey elbowed Charlotte.
"Why me?"
"Because he listens to you!" Derek replied.
"He also listens to Juliet!" Charlotte pointed out.
"Clearly, my mind-control over mentally incapacitated people is on the blink," Juliet retorted. "You try, Alice."
People have got to stop calling me that… Charlotte grumbled inwardly. She stood in front of the prefect and snapped her fingers in front of her eyes. "Hey! Hey Darren! Listen to me right now!"
No response. Charlotte frowned, grabbed Darren by the lapels and yanked him down slightly to what was his eye level. "Darren Wright, pay attention to me right now!"
A blink. Brief recognition. "Oh. Hello, Alice."
Everyone else groaned. "This comes and goes," said Juliet tiredly at the Twins. "You realize that he's been calling me and Bailey as Cheshire Cat and Gryphon before it transitions back to Juliet and Bailey on fleeting moments of sanity."
"We're so proud we could cry!" the Twins exclaimed most unhelpfully.
"Well really, it was his idea," Lucas murmured thoughtfully.
"Almost his idea," Logan replied, nodded. "Half ours."
"But he named himself," Lucas added, nodding as well. "We named ourselves…"
"Still, he was the one who got us "collecting" all the others…"
A small hubbub was brewing among the faculty, who suddenly looked apprehensive. Juliet, without warning, suddenly punched Derek in the arm. "Ow!" he howled. "Jules, what the—?"
The actress grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him around to fact the school gates. A limo was coming in, jet black with windows tinted, and it came with an escort of gunmetal gray mazdas that definitely contained bodyguards.
Panic rippled through the faculty when a man with an earpiece emerged out of the driver's side and pulled open the door for the passengers. The first one out was a man in a crisp suit—a man that Charlotte could not possibly forget so soon.
All the students choked and gaped in horror, bug-eyed.
"Holy sh—" Derek gasped.
"That's not—" Grace began.
"What is he doing here? He never comes to Parents' Night!" Juliet demanded.
"Oh crap." Charlie groaned as the teachers came running to greet the man and the beautiful blonde woman in her late twenties who was handed out of the car after him.
"Senator Wright!" Dean Lowell said immediately as soon as she came up to him "Well! This is…a surprise…! We certainly weren't expecting you to be here…"
"I told Julian that it would be very good for him to come," Michelle Wright said looking very bright and happy. "He seemed to be fine during the Winter Festival thing and—"
Mr. Wright made an impatient sound and looked at Dean Lowell. "Everything's copacetic, I take it? I did give Darren an ultimatum. Has he done anything I should know about?"
Blood drained from the faces of all the students who overheard. Instant flashbacks of the great punch-out in the Valentines' Day fair happened. And in a single movement, everyone clumped together in a pile as the others dragged Darren down to the ground so he wouldn't be seen.
Charlie watched apprehensively. "... so is Darren still—"
"Yeah. I'm not kidding." Charlotte continued to try and get something out Darren.
Michelle Wright was already looking around, and she excused herself from her husband—who seemed to rather want to speak to the faculty more than actually look for his son at the moment. She began walking towards the students, and the Adams, in a moment of panic, all looked at Derek.
Derek, frozen to the spot, muttered, "Get. Darren. Out of here."
"How?" Juliet hissed.
"Lead him away like a drugged horse—I don't care! Just get him out of here! Hide him for a minute!"
"Come on!" Charlotte hissed, pulling Darren along. Darren was in such a state that he wasn't sure while pretty Alice and he had to move along the crowd in a half-crouch with their heads low, but he thought it was fun. Apparently.
"This way…" Juliet whispered, gesturing for Charlotte and Darren to follow her quickly before she vanished in the crowd momentarily.
"Follow the Cheshire Cat, Alice," Darren said, amused, to the person whose hand he was holding. Charlotte winced inwardly as she followed Juliet, trying to keep sight of her. They had to hurry. As it was, it wasn't like they were very far off. From where they stood, they could hear Derek talking to Michelle Wright.
"What do you mean?" she asked worriedly. "Is he sick? Does he get the things I send him, though?"
"Yes, he does," Derek replied, smiling at Michelle and trying to keep her from looking around too much. "Trust me, he does."
"Well is he going to be around soon?" she said hopefully, smiling. "I got him flowers!"
"He's just preparing for his big performance!" Derek assured her.
The others glanced at Derek as though asking what he was doing. Darren was in no condition to be standing onstage converting oxygen into carbon dioxide let alone singing and performing in front of all the parents and alumni, and the Adams Pipers knew that. Darren wasn't even singing lead.
"Oh, really?" Michelle brightened up immensely at the thought of another brilliant performance from her stepson. "He's got a big performance again? Oh that's fantastic! I've totally got to tell his dad!"
Derek highly doubted Senator Wright would really give a crap seeing as how he didn't even stay to the end of Darren's performance last time. But if it would get Michelle distracted then by all means. "Sure! Sounds great! I'm sure he'd love to know that."
"Are you insane?" Bailey hissed the moment Michelle ran off.
Thaddeus punched Derek in the arm. "She's going to tell Senator Wright that his son is having a big performance when he's not even capable of communicating like a human being! What's he going to do if he heads out to that program and Darren is not performing?"
"Look, we'll just have to find a way to make him ready for the stage at least!" Derek hissed back furiously. "It's been a while, that stuff should wear off, right?"
"And what if it doesn't?" Thaddeus demanded.
"We really should've given him coffee," Louisa pointed out.
"It might shock you and I can't believe I'm saying this, but coffee is not the answer to everything," Bailey, who was more partial to apple juice, replied. The Adams started all talking indignantly at the same time and bestowed her with withering expressions in response. Thaddeus looked at her like she'd just said an outrage. "You mock us—!"
"All right, all right!" Derek snapped. "Enough! We have to stall." He looked at the Jeffersons. "Can't you do something? Anything! You're good at that, aren't you? And where in the world are Patrick and Diana!? We can't have more Pipers missing!"
"Um…um…" Logan was bouncing up and down on his toes, waving his hands. "We have do something… a distraction…we need to get a distraction… We need to buy some time!"
Lucas nodded, doing the same, racking his brain for a really big distraction. "Lots of time! Someone has to do something—make enough panic to make the teachers push up the other presentations fast, buy some time for us to get Darren to recover and Charlotte and Damian some time to come back!"
Bailey blinked. "Who could possibly do anything big enough to distract the entire school and the parents? Who's going to hold back the teachers from looking for us Pipers while we fix this?"
"While we can run interference from the other teachers—"
"Someone who isn't a Piper can make the big distraction?" Lucas suggested.
"You're sending someone who isn't a Piper to take over the first performance of Parents' Night?" Thaddeus exclaimed, staring. "Are you insane?"
"Yes!" the Twins chorused.
"Well—all right!" Bailey stared at them. "Who are we going to get?"
The Twins all looked at one member of their group who had been quiet all this time. All eyes now turned to the sophomore who was fiddling with his cell phone, glaring at it as though he expected it to explode. Then he felt the evil wind blowing and looked up. Noel stared.
"What?"
The Pipers all grabbed him. "We need you to make a distraction! A really big distraction!"
"Are you serious?" Noel demanded, white in the face as they dragged him to the rear entrance of Orion Hall. "Have you all collectively lost your minds? I can't do that! You see all those people and their parents already going in there? Do you have any idea what kind of trouble we are going to be in? I'm talking like academic death!"
"You'll be fine!" they all chorused, pushing Noel along.
"You've done it a million times!" the Twins exclaimed.
-8-
"You're crazy! Do you have any idea what I've been through today?" Noel protested as he found himself being pushed into the backstage. He turned paper white when he saw the curtains and the fact that all of this would be witnessed by the contingent of other students, the parents, and the alumni, who were seated amongst elegantly decorated dinner tables similar to the style in Golden Globe award nights. And they were all paying very close attention.
"Okay look, look." Noel turned, grabbed Lucas and pointed out to the crowd they can see from the sidelines. "You see that? Right there? The lady in the silver-gray dress sitting at that table right there with some VIPs? You recognize that lady?"
Lucas brightened immediately. "Hey, your mom decided to come?"
"Yes!" Noel nearly screamed at him. "Do you know what she would do to me? Do you know what she would do my salt?"
"Okay!" The Twins then grabbed Noel and hauled him back away from where they could see the audience. They put their hands on the younger boy's shoulders.
"Knight," said Lucas, "We know this is already asking you to go above and beyond the call of duty."
"And we know that you're already done more for us every single day than we give credit to," Logan added.
"And we're sorry that we don't," the Twins added. "But please. Please do this for us, Noel? Please?"
"We'll never ask anything of you again," Lucas vowed, blinking at him.
Noel scoffed at that one. Everyone in Jefferson was bent to the Twins' will sooner or later. But in this case… He glanced off towards where the parents were waiting. He seemed torn for a moment, "Well…all right."
"Gregor and Pentland—Gregor and Pentland!" hissed a Piper as she saw the music teachers approaching. The Twins jumped. "Everybody run! Hide! Get back to where Charlotte and Darren are, quick!" The Pipers fled rapidly, like it was one gargantuan game of hide and seek.
"Wait!" Noel cried, standing amidst the chaos. "What am I supposed to do?"
"Do something! Anything!" Bailey yelled back.
"What do you mean anything? It's a freaking dinner party! What the heck did you want me to do?" he flailed.
"Just stall! Something!" Lucas yelled.
"Expulsion-level something!" Logan added.
"What?" Noel stared in horror.
He looked around for a moment and then stopped. He stopped, and took a deep breath, closing his eyes to try and concentrate. He had to do this. And he had to do this fast because Laura would be waiting for him at Washington so they could get into Clavell's room. So he had to distract this audience like they had never been distracted before, then get out. Fast. Before he got expelled or something.
He opened his eyes and saw the Pipers still running. He saw one that he needed. "Bailey!" he grabbed the girl by the back of the jacket. "I need your help."
"What?" Bailey stared. "For what?"
"Music."
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Hawthorne
Jul 25, 2014 11:56:44 GMT -5
via mobile
Post by HburgEagle44 on Jul 25, 2014 11:56:44 GMT -5
Omg not Noel!!!! Haha this is a wild ride!
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Post by tonilous on Jul 26, 2014 3:39:11 GMT -5
Whatever the parents were expecting, it couldn't have been whatever Noel had in mind. All of them, many in their best evening wear, were talking amiably with each other, a number of them with their children next to them while the rest of the contingent who were still waiting on their parents or weren't expecting them to come were waiting at the tables closer to the main entrance.
The teachers were situated near the front along with the VIPs and they were all waiting for the first part of the program to begin without waiting for the other parents—who tended to be fashionably late—to arrive. What mattered was getting something onstage for the ones already there.
Light music was playing over the speakers for the moment as the people waiting for the Pipers to appear. However—
The music stopped with a short whine of feedback. All lights on the stage died. Everyone looked up, curious. There was no host, no sound, no light. The teachers looked at each other, as they hadn't been given the signal from Gregor and Pentland that the Pipers were ready.
Then music began at top volume from the speakers—cymbal beat.
Onstage, a single old-fashioned mic on a stand was half-hidden, gleaming. Puzzled, everyone stared.
And then the lights all came on, trained to a lone form wearing a Hawthorne uniform, blazer open, tie loose and hand on a black fedora hat tilted down on his head as he leaned the mic over.
It was Noel.
Without waiting, he jumped to action and began to sing with all shameless showmanship as he swirled around onstage in rapid dance, taking the mic with him.
Please, leave all overcoats, canes and top hats with the doorman
From that moment, you'll be out of place and under dressed—
I'm wrecking this evening already and loving every minute of it
Ruining this banquet for the mildly inspiring and—
Noel ripped the mic off the stand and leapt off the stage—the parents gasped as he landed onto the floor, still with eyes on them all and singing, making those rapid dance moves—
Please, leave all overcoats, canes and top hats with the doorman
From that moment, you'll be out of place and under dressed—
I'm wrecking this evening already and loving every minute of it—
Ruining this banquet for the mildly inspiring and—
With the entire hall's horror-stricken eyes on him, some of the ladies at the table cried out in fright as Noel made a single bound and landed on top of a neatly-decorated dinner table with a bang, silverware clanking as his feet landed and he struck a pose while singing—
When you're in black slacks with accentuating
Off-white, pinstripes, woah-oh—
Everything goes according to plan—
Noel jumped onto an empty chair, flipping it right over as he slammed it down into the ground amidst shrieks as he ran, singing at the top of his lungs—
I'm the new cancer
Never looked better, you can't stand it—
Because you say so under your breath
Your reading lips, "When did he get all confident?"
Haven't you heard that I'm the new cancer?
Never looked better and you can't stand it—
By now the teachers were after him. Noel was grinning madly, exhilarated by his own bravado as he leapt out of Murdoch's reach and ducked under one of the tables to get out on the other side, still running amidst the tables.
From the windows of the main entrance doors, the Pipers were staring in complete amazement at their schoolmate who was now literally causing bedlam amidst the entire program.
"Holy—" a Piper burst out in aghast delight. "Go Noel!"
"Run, dude!" Thaddeus burst out laughing.
Noel laughed as he evaded Mrs. Baker and jumped behind one of the buffet tables.
Next is a trip to the—the ladies room in vain and
I bet you just can't keep up with—with these fashionistas and
Tonight, tonight, you are, you are a whispering campaign
I bet to them, your name is "Cheap"
I bet to them you look like sh—
The male teachers were definitely trying to chase him now and Noel jumped onto a chair and was now literally running down the long buffet table, hopping and dancing madly over the dinner trays as he tried to duck them.
Talk to the mirror, oh, choke back tears
And keep telling yourself that, "I'm a diva!"
Noel slipped and fell off the side near the ice sculpture and seemed to disappear when the teachers reached that spot, but the boy popped up amidst one of the tables with the parents on it, one of the dads there reaching for a cigarette. Noel grinned and pointed casually.
Oh and the smokes in that cigarette box
On the table, they just so happen to be laced with nitroglycerin—
The parents there froze, aghast. Noel leapt away just as Mr. Newman tried to grab a hold of him and he went running down the middle berth of the tables in the hall. He saw his mother looking on, pure horror on her face while Lowell looked livid, telling him to get out of the hall.
Ah well. Too late to turn back.
I'm the new cancer
Never looked better, you can't stand it
Because you say so under your breath
You're reading lips, "When did he get all confident?"
Haven't you heard that I'm the new cancer?
Never looked better and you can't stand it—
The teachers finally seemed to have backed him into the corner and they clearly think that he's having some kind of psychological episode and were slowly trying to get a hold of him—Noel stared at them all with a glint of challenge in his eyes, grinning as he held the microphone.
The Pipers stared in horror, thinking that their schoolmate was done for now—
Haven't you heard that I'm the new cancer?
I've never looked better and you can't stand it—
Haven't you heard that I'm the new cancer?
I've never looked better and you can't stand it—
"Go, Noel, go!" Bailey yelled from the catwalk over the stage from where she was finished rigging the sound.
Noel leapt back and jumped onto the stepladder left behind by the decorating committee. He climbed it up rapidly, nearly to the top, grabbed one of the cloth drapes over him and swung like Tarzan over their heads as the cloth tore from the top, sending parents screaming.
And I know and I know, it just doesn't feel like
A night out with no one sizing you up
I've never been so surreptitious
So, of course, I'll be distracted when I spike the punch!
He landed with a ninja roll onto the hardwood floor of the hall and was racing for the back entrance. The Pipers threw the door open immediately to make room.
Noel flipped away the cloth off towards the teachers chasing him and he was running, free as a bird—
And I know and I know, it just doesn't feel like
A night out with no one sizing you up
I've never been so surreptitious
So, of course, I'll be distracted when I spike the punch!
He threw the mic back and made a huge slide like a baseball player going for homebase, sliding all the way out of the doors—which swung closed behind him with an echoing bang as the music ended.
Utter silence in Orion Hall as parents and guests stared in utter shock, the teachers gaping, wide-eyed, wondering what in god's name just happened.
And in a single movement, the entire Hawthorne Academy student body, all the teenage siblings, cousins, and guests, leapt to their feet, roaring in cheers and applause at the splendid performance. Screaming, excited talk reigned over the hall as the parents and guests stared in complete amazement at it all, and wondered if this was just actually all part of the show. They ended up applauding awkwardly along with the overexcited young people who already believe that this had to be the best Parents' Night they've ever had already.
The fact that the parents and guests—especially the VIPs who were now smiling and were telling the administration, "Well that was rather interesting…"—weren't freaking out completely about this seemed to get the teachers and administrators to relax a little. No real damage was actually done, at least and everyone was talking loudly about the explosive beginning to the program.
Noel had run all the way out with Bailey back to the Pipers outside, who were all laughing too hard to actually say anything except clap them at their backs. Even Felix and Charlie were grinning at him, completely amazed at a performance that must have eclipsed anything that they had done in their own sophomore years as rowdy students in Hawthorne.
"Way to go!" the Twins hugged a very shaken-looking Noel.
"Perfect!" Thaddeus nodded, clapping so hard that his hands were starting to hurt.
Derek shook his head, a little disgusted and a lot amused at the madness that only Jefferson House could possibly pull out.
Noel panted, "Did Charlotte already manage to get Darren—"
From where he stood, Derek choked back a gasp as he looked up to the grounds and saw their prefect apparently in conversation with a man that Derek recognized to be one of the Tiptons' family lawyers. "Bailey!" He grabbed the music-addict by the shoulder and shoved him to that direction as he and the Twins immediately ran off towards where a pale-looking Charlotte, a disoriented Darren, and a frazzled Juliet was standing. Clearly, in spite of the time bought, the effects hadn't worn off.
Bailey just barely realized what was happening, when she finally stumbled up to them, and the lawyer saw Bailey and looked relieved. "Oh here you are, Bailey. Your—"
"My parents sent you, yes, I know," Bailey replied, looking a little breathless.
"I was just talking to Julian over here," the man said, smiling, gesturing to Darren. "He's your prefect?"
"Yes," Bailey replied hastily. "Really, he's really busy, and he has to go…" she widened her eyes at Charlotte and Juliet.
"Yes!" Juliet immediately said, staring up at the man. "We have to go! We have to, um…prep. For the performance. Very important. Darren?" She tried to tug him along and for a moment, Darren looked disoriented and wouldn't move.
"Has he said anything at all?" Bailey hissed to Charlotte, who replied hastily, "Yes or no questions, it hasn't been that long, although he did mention something about how the crocodile improves its shining tail."
Bailey groaned and looked up at the lawyer. "We really have to get you into the Hall now!" she laughed forcibly. "Let's go!" And Bailey pulled the lawyer away, who looked a little confused, heading back into the still exuberant hall.
Charlie was in shock. "Did that lawyer dude just call Darren "Julian"?"
"That is the guy's actual name…" the Twins replied calmly.
"And the lawyer is still alive?"
"I told you Darren is drugged…" Derek grumbled. He strode up to them. "Great. So he's still not out of it. I'm taking Darren and Juliet back to Adams. You Pipers do what you have to do." He immediately grabbed both Darren and Juliet's wrists and dragged them off.
The very instant they disappeared, they heard someone clearing a throat. Everyone turned around to see Pentland and Gregor staring at them, eyebrows raised.
"And…what in the world was that…?" Pentland demanded.
The Pipers all looked more like deer caught in headlights right now. "Um…" Grace began, blinking, "That was…well…"
"Impromptu!" Lucas immediately volunteered. "Add a little excitement. Get the crowd riled up!"
"Splendid performance, I'd say," Logan added, nodding.
"Yes, absolutely," Lucas said, blinking. "Everyone liked it! Did you hear them applaud?" He gave them a nervous smile that his Twin matched.
Pentland glowered at them all. He looked at Noel, who was cowering, first. "Your mother wants to see you. As for the rest of you—" he pointed imperiously to the rear doors. "Everyone—backstage, now! And someone find Patrick and Diana!"
"Yes, sir!" the singers chorused immediately, as two Pipers ran off to find the missing conspirators. The Twins jumped up. "Come on, Alice!" they said quickly grabbing Charlotte.
"What exactly happened in there?" Charlotte hissed to the twins.
"It's better if you don't ask right now…"
As she got strung along by the overexcited twins, she caught sight of Noel, who was standing with a woman in a neat, trimmed dress, with an elderly woman and a tall man. His mother and father, maybe? But as she got whisked by, she heard Noel call the tall man "Uncle". Maybe this was the famous Uncle Ford, he who gave in to Noel's eccentricities. His mother looked livid and was scolding him (and didn't necessarily look too angry, at least) but the uncle was just laughing and urging her to go back into the hall, looking very amused.
Noel glanced to the side and saw her getting pulled away by the Twins.
And for a moment, Charlotte remembered.
"I want you to stay out of the whole Adam Clavell mess!" Noel had told her.
"What? What mess?" Charlotte replied, narrowing her eyes at him. "What have you heard? Have you been snooping around again?"
"Look, just listen to me! That guy could be really really dangerous! Don't get any more involved than you already are! I'll handle this. I'm a professional."
"Hardly," Charlotte snorted. "Look, don't worry about this! I've already told Felix about the suspicions. He said something will be done."
Noel just shook his head. "I don't think so. I don't want to rely on administration. They won't believe any of us! Can you honestly say that right now, you believe me?"
She couldn't. Because…Noel was being over the top as usual. This entire conversation happened while Noel was trying to fill his pockets with medallions, rock salt, and strapping on ancient weaponry that Charlotte was simultaneously grabbing from him as some looked too dangerous to be pulled out in school especially in a big event like tonight. She had the feeling that Noel's mother looked relieved that her son was unarmed.
She had to calm down—because Charlotte didn't intend on going any deeper than she already had. The Washingtons said they could deal with this, that it was all right that she just needed to calm down. So it was going to be all right.
Noel watched as Charlotte got pulled away by the Twins. So she was safe. As long as Charlotte stuck to the other Jeffersons Adam wouldn't dare take them all in one go. And speaking of Adam… He glanced surreptitiously at his phone as his mother and uncle continued to bicker, Ford trying to tell Mrs. Montgomery that it was good that Noel was finally being so expressive—
I'm here! Where are you, Montgmery? - Laura
"Mom, I have to go!" he quickly told his mother as he looked up. "I'll be right back, go on ahead to the hall—there's just something important I have to take care of."
Mrs. Montgomery stared at her son indignantly as he ran off without hesitation, diving through the crowd. "Thomas! Where do you think you're going?"
"Do not call me that!" Noel screamed back as he ran. "I'll meet you back in the hall! I'll be back, I just have to do something really quick!"
"Tommy!" his nanny gasped.
"Especially that!"
Felix, who had overheard, looked a little surprised and he looked at the others. "Who is Thomas again…?"
"She means Noel." Charlie replied with a laugh. "His name is Thomas Noel?"
Felix snorted and glanced back a little. "Where's the fire…?"
"When it comes to Jefferson…do you really want to ask that question?"
"You two prefects!" Gregor exclaimed at them both. "That's quite enough chatter from you both, get into the hall immediately before I tell Dean Lowell that you had a hand in this!"
"Yes, ma'am!" they immediately jumped and fled back into the hall.
Inside the hall, everyone looked up as the program officially began, the emcees making awkward jokes about the earlier performance.
But Adam looked up as Felix came in and took his spot where the prefects were supposed to sit. He observed them quietly. Felix, and Charlie, but no Darren. Wherever he was, he must be with Juliet. And Noel didn't come back inside even though the people Adam assumed were Noel's mother and uncle just did. So people were moving already.
And with Danny being a Piper…no one was watching him.
It was time to go.
Adam looked to where he sat with the other Washingtons who weren't expecting their parents, and smiled. "Please excuse me for a minute."
The others nodded to him, not suspecting anything, as Adam got up, walked to the rear doors making sure that no one was watching, and slipped out.
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Hawthorne
Jul 26, 2014 10:14:59 GMT -5
via mobile
Post by HburgEagle44 on Jul 26, 2014 10:14:59 GMT -5
GO NOEL!!!! ....and no... Adam...
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Post by tonilous on Jul 31, 2014 4:51:49 GMT -5
"You what?"
Patrick flinched as his best friend gave him a murderous look from her seated position on her bed. After the scene with his family, they went back to Jefferson house, where the silence in the dormitory known for rowdiness was almost unsettling. Although Patrick wanted privacy, it wasn't exactly what he was expecting—even Han Westwood had decided to leave the confinements of the House. It was an eerie atmosphere that they were both uncomfortable with.
"You need to hear me out, Di. I still haven't finished what I was going to say." Patrick had rehearsed this particular conversation multiple times in his head since freshman year and it was not going like he planned. He already stuttered twenty times since being in her room and the big speech he had gone over a thousand and one times sounded more like, "DianaIlikeyoualotlikeIloveyou."
The reaction he got from her was a mixture of a lot of feelings—all of which were negative.
She was standing now. The expression on her face was scarier than ones Patrick had ever seen. "I don't want to hear what you have to say! Your declaration of love was enough. Seriously Patrick—really? After all the drama we've gone through this year in Jefferson you drop this bomb on me. Seriously?" Her voice started to rise and suddenly Patrick missed the previous silence. "Haven't you learned enough from the whole Charlotte-Darren-Damian thing?" Diana started to pace her room, no doubt looking for something heavy to hit him with. He prayed that she wouldn't remember the amount of soccer and academic trophies she had lined up on her dresser.
He didn't trust himself enough to leave the swivel chair by her desk. If he did, he knew he would collapse on the floor and then he would definitely get his butt kicked. He gulped before continuing, "Look, to be fair, this wasn't really a new revelation or anything. I've had a crush on you since the second day of freshman orientation. It totally would've been the first but I was kind of sketchy about you when you said Leonardo was your favorite Turtle and not Michelangelo." He winced at the look in her eyes. If she didn't want to kill him then, she would kill him now."...but that's besides the point," he added quickly.
Diana turned to face him, fists completely clenched. "Patrick, stop joking for like one second, please. Why are you telling me this now? I don't... I thought we were supposed to be the sane ones in this school. It's the wrong day to spill our secrets to each other." Being adopted by the mafia was one thing that she could overlook, but this was on an entirely different level.
"Like I said, Di, this wasn't a new thing. I thought it would go away when I was with Tabitha but clearly it hasn't. You can't blame me. I'm a teenage boy with a best friend that looks like you. Don't give me that look!" He'd rather rip all of Charlotte and Grace's designer clothes to shreds than admit he was scared at this exact moment. "You still haven't heard my whole story. Look, I talked to Jordan—"
"—You what?!" Diana's voice reached decibels.
"—and he pretty much had the same reaction as you, except scarier because the dude's buff and that vein on his forehead was doing that thing, you know." He lifted his finger to trace a line of a vein on his forehead, but found the action unhelpful. "But he did hear me out and I promised to god and sacrificed my first born child that I wouldn't ask you to leave him and run away with me—"
"—which you were going to do, right?" Diana accused. They were best friends for a reason, after all.
He could lie. He could look her in the eyes and lie straight to her face. But that would defeat the purpose. "... yes. Yes. My first thought was to ask you to be with me. But I'm not a jerk. I know you're happy with Jordan and I know Jordan's happy with you—I get it. I was your best friend for four years. Still am." He glanced at the wall clock. "And I also know if you don't kill me right now, the Pipers will kill the both of us because it's almost time to sing so I'll go ahead and stop stalling and hurry this up."
"Patrick, I've heard enough."
He ignored her. "Diana, I love you, okay?" She cringed and he chose to overlook it. "And I know you love me, too... just not in the same way—and I'm totally okay with that. Don't worry. I'll always love you. I don't really know if it's always going to be in a romantic way though, but I'm so freaking sure that we're going to grow old together and I'll be the drunk best man at yours and Jordan's wedding and it's going to be great. You're important to me. Even when I marry Megan Fox."
She laughed a little at this and Patrick relaxed. "I just... if there's one thing you've taught me it's that life is too short to not live in the moment. I don't want to ever leave this earth without having told you how I feel about you. I know I sound really corny right now and I know for a freaking fact that you're going to hold this against me in the future... But since we're on this topic now just know that I've let you win 80% of our arguments because I was willing to sacrifice my pride for you—"
"—please just get to the point, Hughes."
"You haven't been completely honest with how you felt about this whole proposal thing." He stated quietly. He watched as her mouth shut. She wasn't looking at him anymore and he knew it was because she was trying not to cry. Diana slowly sat on her bed, head down and hands folded.
All joking aside, he got up from the chair and sat down next to her, putting his arm around her shoulders. "Di... you mean the world to me. You mean more than the world to me. I want you to know that whatever you do, decide, choose, whatever, I'm there. I will always be there."
At this, her shoulders began to shake. Patrick dropped down to his knees in front of her, forcing her to look at him. Brown eyes filled with anger five minutes ago were replaced with sadness...fear...
He reached forward to swipe a stray tear running down her cheek. "It's okay...You're the smartest person I know. You'll figure this out—you always do. No one is rushing you. I know you love him. You know you love him. He's the luckiest guy in this entire universe for even having a second of your time."
Diana nodded and grabbed his hand, holding it tightly against hers. He was always going to be a constant in her life. And whatever this conversation was, she needed it. "I love you, Pat." She leaned forward to kiss his forehead lightly. Diana reached to hug him tightly, allowing him to take her down so they were both on the floor.
He didn't say anything. They both knew where they stood at the moment, and he was okay with that. It was selfish of him, especially with what she and Jordan were going through... but he couldn't deny his feelings. Because she was greater than that. She was greater than anything in the world and he would not limit her to anything not deserving of her time.
So he stayed on the floor, hands tight around his best friend as she cried. They stayed in that position for a while. She wasn't sobbing, but her grip on his arms was enough to tell him that she needed him. Nothing else mattered at that moment. Time stood still. And he didn't say anything.
-8-
Grace hastily made sure that all the paintings were placed in their perfect positions and that they were secure. The Art Club had already retreated to the Hall with their parents and she had sent Clark with them in spite of the older boy's insistence to help. After Grace saw how obviously displeased Hilde was to have Clark here at all. She actually thought that Hilde was going to set Clark on fire with the look she gave him.
True, her parents were civil, but they haven't really talked at all in years. And Hilde had made it clear that she did not approve of Grace associating herself with anything of her father's. As it was, she didn't have to—her father worked in the music industry and she was immersed in Hilde's fashion world. So Clark must really rankle for her.
And it's the first time they've met and everything too… Grace sighed unhappily as she finished lighting the candles.
After the McGintys had their moment—clearly it was serious and Minah kept her back even though she wanted to follow. That Shane would call for them when the time was right. As it was, she had stood watching and listening as the McGintys and the Summers-Geraghtys had that debacle in the distance.
When voices rose, she wanted to run to them—and she would have, if her mother didn't materialize. After speaking to her about the program and bringing her to Orion Hall, Grace had excused herself and made a beeline to the Art Hall as every raging insecurity she had about her mother's approval took possession of her.
Of course when she realized that she had a couple hundred candles on the tall candelabras to light, she felt a little daunted. So off she went lighting everything, ready for when the parents got there, and just in case some of them arrived early.
Like her mother.
Grace sighed when she lit the last few candles in the third floor. She now had to go all the way downstairs to the first floor and make sure that the tables and flower arrangements looked nice downstairs.
She stopped at these last two candelabras and felt surprised. These candles had been brought in here days before the event, but no one had lit them. They were under strict instructions not to light them around the art until the day itself.
Grace carefully touched the wicks. They were black. They had been lit before. In the next stand, the wicks were also black. Someone had lit half the candles here, and then put them out again. Frowning, Grace wondered, Who lit these candles…?
As she stepped away, trying to see which candles had been lit, she saw something on the floor. A flash of color. A red rose head. Grace bent down and picked it up. This was the second one she had found. At first she had thought it was one of the flowers from the arrangement downstairs, but she had to wonder, how did they get up here on the third floor, when all the arrangements were downstairs on the first?
All the power died.
With a stifled gasp, Grace looked around at the third floor, which fortunately was filled by candles that stood at a safe distance from the paintings and sculptures in the middle of the hall. She quickly ran across the third floor space to the doors and went down to the great length of the second floor. "Ms. Blumenfeld?" she called. She remembered that the Art teacher was downstairs, also setting up a little. "Ms. Blumenfeld, what happened to the lights? Is everything okay?"
No answer.
Grace started to get frightened, and worried. She walked around the second floor, hoping to find the Art teacher. But it was so quiet in the building that she couldn't have possibly missed her call.
Grace stopped when she caught the sight of a pair of legs. Her art teacher was lying on her side by the side of one of the sculpture pedestals, and she looked unconscious, her long hair spilling everywhere. "Ms. Blumenfeld!" she gasped, running to her. She must have fainted—
The impact was sudden, brutal, and without hesitation. Grace found herself thrown to the ground and she hit the ground with a crack. She was so blindsided that she didn't even have time to scream. She felt a powerful grip grab her by the lapels of her blazer and nearly lift her off the ground as she picked up against and got thrown violently into the wall. Body wracked in pain, Grace wanted to cry out but a strong hand clapped over her mouth.
A hot breath was over her face, and in the heat of the power outage and the flickering candles, Grace opened her eyes to see a tall boy wearing a school uniform bearing down at her. He was immensely strong—he held Grace's head there on the wall. Grace struggled for half a second before she heard a low shushing sound—and the unmistakable feel of a sharp metal blade grazing up the side of her neck.
"Don't move, little Dormouse…" came the mocking whisper of the boy that held her.
Grace whimpered in pain from behind the hand that pinned her there, so scared that she could hardly dare to move. She realized that he must've busted her scalp when she hit the ground the first time, judging from the incredible amount of throbbing she felt.
"Is there anyone else here…?" the tall boy asked in a low, even tone and she only seemed to shake with restraint. "Are you alone…?"
Grace tried to gasp for breath but when she did, the boy pulled her off the wall and slammed her into it again. Grace hit the ground with a moan of pain before the hand came back to her mouth and she got propped to the wall again. "You're not allowed to talk. You weren't supposed to be here. Neither of you." He glanced back to where Ms. Blumenfeld lay. "Now…is anyone else here?"
Grace choked back a sob of pain and terror. She only managed to shake her head, to tell him that there was no one else. In the glint of the candlelight, she saw a badge on his collar.
Washington.
He was one of them, one of her schoolmates. What was happening—why was he even doing this? And worse…what was he going to do to her? She had to do something, anything. This boy already hurt one teacher and he had something planned. Something to be done in the Art Hall. Or he wouldn't have asked if anyone else was here.
Without warning, the boy grabbed her by the collars again and threw her into the ground away from the wall.
Grace saw her chance. She was used to falling and always tried to recover—as she fell, she felt ground beneath her feet and pushed off. She struggled to her feet, every inch of her screaming in pain as she broke off to run.
She didn't get further than six feet before her leg screamed in pain and she fell to the ground again on her side. She heard the sound of something getting picked up from the ground and footsteps just as she pushed herself up on her hands.
The impact of the blow was merciless—a swift explosion of pain—and Grace's world instantly went black.
Adam stood over the short girl, panting a little with exertion. He dropped the baseball bat he'd brought along just for the occasion. He smiled to himself.
That was the good thing about celebrations like these. All the security people cared about taking care of the VIPs. All the nice, wealthy VIPs in Orion Hall right now. They all overlooked the really important people who just didn't happen to be in the throng.
A lone guard was in the Art Hall, and when Adam ran up to him telling him that he was very badly needed over some other direction as someone's little sister just fainted, it took Adam all of two seconds to shove him down the steps. He was still conscious, so Adam took care of that with the baseball bat. He wasn't allowed to interfere. No one was. Adam was tired of being patient. And he didn't have to be anymore. It was time to save Juliet.
Especially when he saw that Clark Sawyer had come. No doubt another bloodsucking social climber looking for a way to get closer to Juliet and boost her career up some. That was what all of them did. It was time to whisk that angel away before someone else could hurt her any more.
And this was the only way to convince her. To remove everyone standing in the way of the perfect future that Adam had planned for her. The perfect future that Juliet deserved.
Ms. Blumenfeld was easy. After he killed the lights, all it took was one swing and she was down. Then he heard that girl call out. The little one—the one they called the Dormouse. He felt a little bad, doing this to her, but it was all her fault for being where she shouldn't be. Getting in the way and all.
If everything had gone as planned, he would have Juliet here by herself and he'd tell her all the amazing things he'd done for her. And Juliet will realize that it was Adam who loved her all along. But other people just kept getting in the way like they were just asking for it. And protectors like him didn't take hindrances kindly.
As he dragged Grace's limp form up the stairs to the third floor, he amused himself with the thought that the Art Hall could be seen as a castle and he was like a Knight off to protect his princess. He dropped Grace unceremoniously in the inner room where her paintings were.
And speaking of knights… Adam stood to the window that faced Washington House.
-8-
The chill that Noel felt low in his spine was something that he wasn't sure he'd actually felt before. For a horrible moment, when Laura turned the key in the lock and a loud click was heard in the silence of Washington House, he felt they should turn back. "We shouldn't be in here."
"Shh!" Laura hissed and pushed the door open. Point of no return.
Noel let out his breath. It was time to find out if he was making all this up, or if he was right. He stepped in, past the point of no return.
The dorm room was oppressively dark—the curtains were drawn to shut out the fading afternoon light. But there was a metallic tang to the air that supremely distressed the hunter. "Do you smell that…" Noel whispered as he fumbled in the dark trying to switch on the flashlight. Laura rolled her eyes and said, "I could just turn on the light—"
"Shut up! Someone might hear us!"
Laura shook her head. "I told you, everyone in Washington is out. Practically evacuated the entire dormitory. No one's here. And you said you saw Clavell with the rest of them downstairs…?"
The flashlight came on at last and Noel stepped in, the beam piercing the gloom. Through the dying light, the room looked quiet enough the bed only a little unmade, the desk stacked with CDs and books. The flashlight beam fell upon the walls, which looked bare save for wallpaper, which was peeling—maybe because of weak glue. "That's weird."
"What do you mean?"
"Wallpaper isn't the same as the outside."
"So?" Laura raised an eyebrow as she began to feel around the bed for any hidden journals and through the side tables to find some incriminating evidence. "People decorate their rooms all the time in this school, yeah?"
"Not with cheap glue." Noel stomped across the room directly towards the peeling wallpaper. "Besides, this looks like it's meant to come off, I think—oops." he stopped when something crunched beneath his feet.
"Don't break anything!" Laura panicked as she looked around. "We're not supposed to be in here!"
"That's what I said earlier—too late now, we've tracked fingerprints everywhere. Gil Grissom and Morpheus will be on our cases in a second," Noel grumbled and aimed the beam down to his feet. He had crushed a scarlet rose. He blinked. "Flowers?"
"What?" Laura crept down to take a better look—and her hands fell over more soft flowers. "What—it's all over the floor." She looked at the petals thoughtfully. "Spencer did mention that Adam had a thing for flowers…"
Noel pointed the flashlight around the ground. Petals were torn and scattered everywhere. "What the—"
"Noel!" Laura whispered excitedly. "Look what I found!" She had pulled out a sticky black book from under the bed she was near. She looked a little disgusted by its texture but nevertheless held it up. The older boy narrowed his eyes and aimed the flashlight at it. "What is it?"
"Diary maybe? His journal?" Laura flipped it open and snorted. "Kind of a lot of entries, but okay. Does this boy not know how to blog?"
Noel immediately grabbed it from her, indignant. "Don't just open stuff! What if it's cursed?"
"You're being ridiculous." She quickly snatched it back but Noel was holding onto it pretty securely, and as a result, it tumbled from their hands—and loose pages scattered everywhere. Laura hissed as the loose pages flew around like there was an impromptu Piper performance. "Have you gone completely mental? Look at what you've done!"
"Me?" Noel glared and would've said something more, but he saw something on one page on the floor. It was mostly scribbles, and it looked like some kind of poetry. Not cursed, he figured, but that wasn't what interested him as he picked it up. He saw that the back of it had a strange pattern, like transfer. And it was a transfer of a familiar pattern.
"What is it?" Laura asked.
Noel turned back to the wall, aiming the flashlight beam at it. He held the paper up. Same pattern. This page had been glued…to the wall? In brisk strides, Noel crossed the room and to the walls. He found the spot earlier, where it was peeling.
"I think…this page used to be on the wall," Noel murmured, looking at it the thin, cheap wallpaper and the print stuck to page covered in a dried film of glue.
"Yeah, but…" Laura looked around at it. The wallpaper may not have looked neatly placed but it wasn't marked with places where a page might have been sticking. "Where? It doesn't look like—" she stopped. She had put her hands to the wall, and she felt that it was uneven, almost lumpy in some places. "Noel…put your hand here on this part of the wall."
The hunter moved forward and did so. He felt surprised. "Something's under there. Laura, step back." Noel, a veteran of ripping into old houses' wallpapers looking for witches symbols and getting into lots of trouble for it, quickly sought out the peeling corner of the wallpaper. He spotted it at the corner and he boldly reached up to it, pulling it away in a swift yank.
The paper came off to reveal the wall.
Laura dropped the book again, staring with wide, stunned eyes at what was beneath when Noel aimed up the flashlight on it. "…what…what is that?"
Noel stepped back, heart thudding in his throat, aiming the flashlight all over the wall trying to see how far the horror reached. "…It…" he covered his mouth and nose. "It smells like…"
Laura clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from gagging.
What bothered Noel wasn't the smell as much as what else was stuck behind the wallpaper. There were more than just pages and pages of letters and poetry.
Photographs. Hundreds of them. Some from newspapers, magazines, printouts from fansites—cut out of posters and movie paraphernalia—and worse, infinitely so much worse, were polaroids. Hundreds of polaroids that were taken within school grounds.
And all of them, each and every single one, was of Juliet.
All the patient work of a boy that was clearly not in his right mind.
Noel's emotions tried to pronounce themselves all at the same time—jubilation that he was right ("I was actually right for once!"), horror at the spectacle ("did he glue those photos with that…stuff?"), and finally, complete and utter alarm ("This guy is well beyond crazy and dangerous!").
He ended up with a very stricken curse.
Laura fled. At first Noel thought she was going out of the room, but she went on full on ransack. She started picking up flower petals, grabbing loose pages on the ground, and she told him, "Grab some of the photos off the wall—the bloody ones! Hurry!"
"What?" Noel stared at her.
"Evidence!" Laura shoved the papers into her bag. "Go! Hurry! We have to get this stuff and get out of here and show Felix and the prefects so that they'll tell people that there is one seriously demented individual living in here!"
"Right." Noel sprang forward to the wall. He grimaced and started tearing photos off walls. He had grabbed two when he realized something as he looked closer. "…Laura?"
"What?" she hissed, clearly busy trying to toss the sheets. Prudence was out of the window—they were going to bust this guy and they're busting him tonight.
Noel kept staring. At first glance, a lot of it was Juliet, but when he looked closer, not only were a number of them mutilated, but they also weren't all Juliet. Shakily, Noel pulled off a polaroid of a blond boy that he knew too well.
"…Darren." He stared, rubbing away the crusted red liquid. There was an X mark on the bottom of the Polaroid. Scribbled at the back, Off with his head.
Noel swallowed. Adam planned on getting rid of Darren too. Why wouldn't he, if he was so crazy about Juliet then clearly Darren was public enemy number one.
Noel searched the photos, alarmed. He pulled another one down. It was Derek. The same words were behind it. Off with his head.
Hands shaking, he grabbed another one—one of Laura as she sat with Felix. He turned the photo to see the same words—off with her head.
Now positively panting in terror, he grabbed the next person he saw who wasn't Juliet. His chest constricted when he saw his own face on the polaroid. He didn't even want to turn this one around. He closed his eyes.
Oh god…he knows about us. Noel tried to collect his wits. He knows we're trying to stop him.
He opened his eyes and saw one more photo that wasn't Juliet. He reached out and pulled it down. A familiar face from his own House.
Charlotte.
And worse, while this one had the same words as the others, it had something else.
Time's up.
"What, Noel?" Laura came up to him. Noel glanced to her and fanned the photos like cards. "What…is that me?" she demanded
"It's a hit list," Noel swallowed. "He made a hit list. Oh god, Laura, we've got to get out of here now. I think he's out there and he's planning to—"
A door slammed loudly downstairs. Both of them looked up like deer caught in headlights, horror-struck. "Who's that?" Noel hissed. "I thought you said everyone was gone—"
"Everyone was gone!" Laura cried, looking frightened.
"Okay shh!" Noel quickly covered her mouth. His heart was hammering in his chest and he knew that Laura hadn't figured it out yet, but that same psycho they were chasing was after them too. And the fact of the matter was, if he had this much planned out, he probably let them get this far too.
He ran to the door and peered out. The hallway in this floor was still empty. But someone was definitely moving downstairs.
"Okay…this is what I want you to do…" he whispered as he looked back to her.
"Oh my god, Noel, is it him? Is he coming upstairs?" Laura's voice rose.
"Shh! Quiet!" Noel hissed, feeling alarmed. His mind was racing and every instinct in his body screamed only one thing—get them out. But in this case—that was impossible with Adam approaching. There was one way…but not for the both of them. "Do not panic. Do not scream. We don't have time. Where is Felix's room?"
"O-on this floor, at the end of the corridor," Laura said, looking scared. "Why?"
"Only one of us can run down there."
Laura blanched, shaking her head. "No, no no—Noel—"
"We don't have time!" he panted. "Look, you have to go to his room, because you have the key. You stay in there and you hide! You understand?" there was the sound of footsteps.
"What about you?" Laura whispered desperately.
Noel shook his head. "You're just going to have to trust me. He's got a weapon, we know that much. Too dangerous. Now go—!"
He threw her out into the hallway. Terrified, Laura stared back at the boy in the room for only a second. She knew what leaving him there meant. Noel was going to take the attention. The room was already in shreds.
"Go!" Noel mouthed to her angrily, pointing down the hall. And Laura ran. She whipped through the hallway as lightly as she possibly could, running to Felix's room, unlocking it, diving inside and pulling the door shut with a soft click…
…as Adam's footstep landed on the hall.
Noel closed his eyes and took a deep breath. I have to get out…but at the same time…he has to think it's only me who's been in here. Buy Laura some time.
The door was clearly ajar. He heard the footsteps approach. He swallowed and stuffed all the evidence he had in his hands into his coat. He made a break for the windows, tearing the curtains aside and pushing it open. He had just enough room to squeeze through. There was nothing below him but some short shrubs, and even though it couldn't be more than two floors up, it was a high drop. If he fell the wrong way—
The door opened fully.
Noel, who was just climbing out, looked up quickly, startled. Adam smiled at him from the door. "So I guessed as much," he said, in an almost friendly tone. "You can't trust anyone in this school. Everyone lies."
"You have no room to talk," Noel snarled, coming down from the window a little. He didn't have his weaponry—Charlotte hadn't let him go around with them. He only had his holy water sprayer. "When the teachers see all that crap you've got on your walls—and your hit list?" Noel fanned the polaroids in his hand again and shoved them into his blazer pockets. "You're going to freaking jail and or a psych ward."
Adam started walking to him. Noel's breath caught when he saw that he had a baseball bat in his hand. His heart stopped when he saw that it was already stained red. Adam seemed to catch that.
"Oh, this…?" he gestured to the bat. "Jeffersons are troublesome people. Always where you don't want them. It was not intentional, really. I didn't think she was going to be there. But I knew you would be here, and you're not going to stop us from being happy, Noel. I won't let you."
Who did he— Noel backed to the window, sprayer held up to him and shaking. "Stay away from me!"
"You can't be serious…" Adam laughed. "You're being ridiculous, Noel. You're overreacting." He stepped closer.
Noel cried out, ducking as he sprayed him in the face. Adam cried out, dropping the bat to the ground and wincing, covering his wet face with his hands. Noel looked up with a gasp, unable to believe it—it worked? It actually worked?
Adam stopped cringing. He grinned behind his hands and made a short laugh. Without warning, he lunged forward with a powerful shove. Noel received the full force of the impact with a sharp cry and he smashed through the wood panes and the glass—and he plunged to the ground and into the bushes with a sickening crack—
—and did not move.
Adam stood at the window with a small smile.
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Hawthorne
Jul 31, 2014 11:05:51 GMT -5
via mobile
Post by HburgEagle44 on Jul 31, 2014 11:05:51 GMT -5
What. On. Earth. You cannot leave it there for long.
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