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Hawthorne
Jun 17, 2014 18:52:44 GMT -5
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Post by HburgEagle44 on Jun 17, 2014 18:52:44 GMT -5
So. Beautiful. <3 hoping Damo wins
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Post by tonilous on Jun 17, 2014 20:05:08 GMT -5
Arabele and Will stood in front of the group assembled. "We have tallied your votes," Pentland said.
The Pipers stood with bated breath. Arabele looked at Will with a nod, and Will said, "Both of them did well. But we need only one lead for this performance, and there are no solos."
They nodded, understanding. Arabele smiled quietly. "For this performance, our lead singer is Damian."
"YEAH!" The Jefferson students leapt into the air as the Pipers cheered. Darren also applauded, nodding with a smile. He accepted this defeat. He glanced at Charlotte, who was clapping so hard that she was becoming breathless. Darren knew what that look was—he himself had that look before. But he also knew that he had a pocket of time. While the others swarmed at Damian, Charlotte remained at a safe distance, as though afraid to breach a circle.
Darren smiled. Lost this one then, Damo. But I still have time. I'll just have to catch up.
-8-
"That was close!" Patrick choked, clutching his breath. "Man, I bet it had been that close!" He gave Damian a heavy pat on the back, nearly making the other boy buckle as they headed back to the House. Everything was dark out now, nothing but the leafless trees printed against the navy sky empty of stars. It was turning colder these days.
"Yeah, man, he put his own spin on an Aerosmith song and he was good," Diana shook her head. "Even I started to get worried. So close."
"I bet you guys had a one-point difference," Grace grinned mischievously.
The twins cracked grins and looked at Charlotte immediately. "Who did you vote for, Alice?" they chorused.
Charlotte turned deep red, cold hands in her pockets. "You know I voted for Damian, why do you have to ask me that?"
Damian smiled at her. "So you liked it?"
"Yeah," Charlotte smiled briefly at him. Damian noticed how Charlotte was avoiding his eyes and felt confused. "Are you okay?" he asked.
"I'm fine," Charlotte answered with another quick smile. "Really. Just…just tired, I think." I had no idea falling for someone was so tiring…
"Are you sure?" Damian asked, that worried expression still on his face. "Because you…you're not really looking at me."
Charlotte let out a shivering breath. Courage… She looked at Damian and smiled, longer now. "How about this? Better?"
Damian smiled a little. Something still seemed off, but for now it looks as though it was still okay. Charlotte was flushed with the cold wind whipping her face. Damian thought she looked beautiful.
Hanging from the upper balcony, Noel was screaming at them as they approached the house. "What took you? Who won?"
"We did!" yelled Patrick and Diana, grinning at him. The twins pumped their fists into the air. "Damo did great!" Grace called back.
Noel looked at his crystal ball in his hand in disgust. "Man, this thing sucks. It told me we'd lose!"
-8-
Will headed to the Teachers' Quarters. Arabele looked amused. "That was interesting…"
"You think so?" said Will, a little bit more anxious. "Doesn't it say something about how the group feels about Darren? The votes say it all. Damian won by a landslide. Speaking as a teacher, he had tied with Darren in skill, but the win by vote was a tremendous margin."
"I doubt it's about last year…" Arabele commented. "Maybe they just really do want Damian for lead singer." She paused. "Song was an odd choice for Darren, though. It's not his general style."
"I know, the last time he made drastic changes, we had quite a few problems," Will murmured. "I start to question my own decision to retain him. It was simply that he has so much promise. And don't think I don't hear the news. That savage fencing final with Damian. I don't want it to be another fiasco like last year."
"Relax, Will," smiled Arabele, the mother hen. "They will work it out, just like they did last year. They have their own choices to make and they've made the right ones so far."
"Including Darren? Arabele, I'm not prepared to lose another singer like that. And Charlotte is in the front running for second soloist. If anything else comes up we might not have that advantage anymore…"
"When do we make that official, by the way?" Arabele blinked.
"She'll have to duel for it. If she wants a lead position, she'll have to fight for it like Damian did."
The elegant woman grinned. "From the looks of her? And as a Jefferson? I'm sure she will."
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Hawthorne
Jun 18, 2014 3:28:18 GMT -5
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Post by HburgEagle44 on Jun 18, 2014 3:28:18 GMT -5
Hmm. So what happened last year? And yay Damian!
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Post by tonilous on Jun 19, 2014 0:56:02 GMT -5
Hawthorne Competition
Walking down the school's hall by himself, Damian pulled out his Blackberry from his pocket and saw that the text message came from Charlotte.
Sorry, Damian—I can't go to lunch with you today. –C
He found this odd. Usually, there was a reason that accompanied a turndown—and the lunch turndown itself has never happened before at all. She had been distant since the duel. Feeling something was amiss, Damian tried to call Charlotte back. He stopped when he heard it ringing, not from his phone, but from somewhere down the corridor. Brow furrowed, Damian followed the sound. It led him to the Pipers' Hall. The door had been left slightly ajar. "Charlotte…?"
He walked up to the door and opened it—and came to a dead stop.
The phone was ringing ignored on the piano. Charlotte was pressed to the far wall with Darren holding her there as he kissed her in a way that could've set the room on fire. Breathing hard and flushed, Charlotte's uniform was already a mess, buttons popped and tie on the ground.
They were so caught up that they didn't even notice him. Damian fell backwards onto the door, choking in shock.
-8-
And he woke up with a strangled gasp.
Coughing hard, he blinked into the darkness, confused, before he started groping for the bedside lamp. It switched on immediately in a warm glow. Damian's heart was pounding so hard, he could feel it in his throat.
A nightmare.
With a groan of relief and pain, Damian slid back onto the headboard, arm draped over his head. Next to him, on the side table, the clock happily declared that it was around four AM on Competition Day. Hardly an auspicious start to the day.
What the heck is wrong with me…? he wondered groggily, rubbing his eyes. My subconscious is trying to torture me.
"…Damian?"
He nearly banged his head on the headboard when he jumped at the sudden voice. It was Charlotte's voice. And Charlotte herself, wearing pale blue pajamas, was standing in socks, looking worried.
"What…" Damian was confused for an instant—until he remembered that Charlotte had slept there. And so did Diana, Patrick, Logan, Lucas, Grace, and a few other Pipers. The night before, they had all gathered in Damian's room (as they usually did) to marathon the Harry Potter movies. Then all the students brought their pillows and blankets into the room, and lay to sleep there, presumably so they would all wake up together the next morning for competition.
Charlotte was one of them. The said girl now sat down at the side of his bed, concerned. "I…I thought you were in trouble or something. You woke up with that choke and... Are you all right…?"
That Charlotte looked like an angel illuminated by the soft lamplight at the edge of the blackness of the rest of the room was something Damian was deeply grateful for after that dream. He pinched the bridge of his nose a moment and sighed. "I'm fine, it was just…just had a nightmare."
And was it ever a nightmare. Damian just rubbed his eyes and said with a halfhearted gesture, "I'm all right. I'm sorry I woke you."
"You didn't, actually," Charlotte smiled.
"Oh…?"
"Yeah…" Charlotte smiled wryly. "Our dreams really suck tonight."
"What did you dream of?"
Charlotte hesitated. She looked down at the bedsheet for a moment. When she didn't answer, Damian nudged the hand on the bed with his own in prompting.
She sighed. "…I dreamt I couldn't get out of the Huntington locker rooms…and Fitzpatrick was there. It was like a splatter movie, he was just coming at me, or something. Then I woke up."
Damian sat up. That hand on his bedsheet had white knuckles. "Charlotte, how long have you been awake?"
"…half an hour."
Well compared to my dream, that's...worse… Damian thought with a bitter slick. He had a nightmare out of what might have been jealousy or insecurity; he wasn't afraid to admit it. Charlotte had a nightmare out of emotional trauma. He opened his arms. "Come here." He pulled Charlotte to him and hugged her.
Charlotte just sighed and hugged back, patting his shoulder. She didn't quite let go or pull away, and so Damian didn't let go. After a few moments, she asked, "…so what did you dream of?"
Panic. Shame. Fear. All three emotions in one go was rather distressing, and Damian pulled away a moment. He scratched his head and said, "Well…wasn't anything like yours."
"Like what?"
"Let's just say it's something I never want to happen. Or at least…I never want to see happen…"
Charlotte smiled sympathetically and pulled him into a hug again. "Was it really bad?" she asked, chin on Damian's shoulder.
"Incredibly," Damian agreed with a wry smile, enjoying the moment while he had it.
"Our subconscious really sucks."
"Yup."
Charlotte seemed thinner than before. It must have been the combined forces of the last days at Huntington, the big move, the homework, the stress and the aggravation of Jefferson. Damian felt a stab of guilt. He had told himself he would take care of her, but the evidence would suggest that he had not done so very well.
After a pause, Damian murmured, "…why wouldn't you look at me last night?"
She froze—he felt her do so. Damian kept holding her, saying, "I'm not trying to rush it out of you. I just…I'm just a little worried. You acted differently and…"
…and it was like you heard my song and you knew it was for you—and you didn't like what you heard. Just like with Darren's song when you seemed frightened.
Charlotte didn't answer. She just carefully put her arms around Damian tightly. "…Damian…can I not…tell you the answer right now?" Her fingers trembled. "Please?"
Damian closed his eyes. Anything you want, as long as you don't tell me you hate me for what I did. I don't know why I did it so recklessly. Because Darren had pushed me? He was pushing me back to the line, like he did in fencing. And if I didn't fight back, I would lose. And I can't lose this one.
He nodded slowly. "All right…take your time…" he looked at her now, and smiled. "Hey…don't look so worried. Everything's all right. It's competition today."
"Hardly a comfort," Charlotte managed to quip, smiling a little. She turned away from Damian again, unable to look him in the face. She picked at stray threads on the comforter. Why was it that after the duel, she could still look up at Darren in spite of the song? Why was there a double standard that froze her in her tracks when it was Damian?
Because you love Damian, but you don't love Darren?
Maybe Charlotte had held Damian's hand during Darren's song because she was afraid of what she would feel if she let Darren in. She had to have something for Darren, that was sure. All those advances were open that only an utter moron would not notice. And while it was incredibly flattering and did, in some guilty, distant way, made her feel good, she had fled from it. Because Darren, for all his points and flaws, was simply just not the one she wanted.
Damian never advanced like that before. He was always on the defensive. He would do little things, like hugs, nudges and if at any time she was frightened, she was able to hold his hand to calm herself. He was the protector and that was obvious. From where he stood, Damian really did make it seem as though he was purely meant for that capacity.
That duel performance was the tiny key on the glass table. It opened up a whole other door—it gave her a glimpse of what it could be—if Damian felt the same way. That was what Charlotte had fallen for. The idea that she could love Damian and that maybe, Damian could feel the same. But right now, with everyone having their shields up—with all of Hawthorne's rules of propriety, unspoken battle lines, competitive matches and friendship ties—she had no way of knowing if what the "White Rabbit" had shown her was the truth, or her imagination.
In the end, Charlotte sighed, …I'm just as afraid of Damian as I am of Darren.
She had two choices. Darren was willing and all but forcing it—she could let Darren in and see for herself what happens if she followed him down that direction. She might love him, hate him, or just up being perfectly civil…
…or she could stay following Damian, the one who first showed her the way, and pray not to end up losing her head and heart to him while she tries to find out if it what was between them was a dream or reality. With everything standing at the very edge of platonic, it was a risk she had to be willing to take.
What do you do when the person you run to with your problems is one of your problems…?
"Stop running."
Both Damian and Charlotte looked up in surprise. Noel was not a Piper, but he insisted on being in the party to defend them against anything bloodsucking and venomous that might be attracted by a group of souls gathered conveniently in one room for them to victimize.
Right now, Noel was soundly asleep in an awkward position draped over the beanbag chair, his body arcing over it. He sniffled and rolled over, mumbling, "Stop running…walk by yourself and figure it out…"
What…? Charlotte stared.
Noel snored. He rolled over again and fell off the beanbag with a loud thud—but kept snoring.
Damian and Charlotte looked at each other, and then started to smile. Damian laughed softly. "He's got sleeping issues. I didn't want him to sleep here because I was afraid he'd wake the others…"
Charlotte smiled at Noel almost affectionately.
Stop running, huh?
Incidentally…that took some "courage" too…
I'm Charlotte and this is Hawthorne Academy.
The day before yesterday, Damian and Darren dueled for a solo. Damian won, but when I left that room I felt different. Being sung to by two different guys with two different functions in your life has a way of doing that to you. Today is competition, and everyone is tense. I'm going to go against Huntington, and that makes it worse.
The pressure is everywhere. I'd want the mayhem back instead, but it appears that it just took a different form.
"Noel kicked me last night! In the shins! Twice!" Patrick snapped at Diana as they boarded the large tour bus that Hawthorne used for all its students' off-campus activities. It was morning, the sun was beating down golden rays onto the mass of Pipers that prepared to board and the students who cheered them on. "I swear, Diana, if I can't walk properly today and we lose because I made a misstep, I'm going to ship him to the Amityville house. I knew we shouldn't have let him sleep over there!"
"And he talks way too much in his sleep," Diana grumbled, rubbing her eyes as she took the seat next to Patrick. "He told me he was dreaming about playing Sonic the Hedgehog and he couldn't get to the next level because Sonic wouldn't stop running."
"He needs to be checked for drugs."
"We checked," the twins mumbled from the seats behind them. "He was clean. So he's just pure loony."
Charlotte stumbled down the aisle, looking a little more disconcerted than her usual self. Grace waved to her from a window seat to catch her attention. Charlotte saw her, immediately walked all the way to the back to them and took the seat next to Grace.
The smaller girl blinked. "You okay? Not going to sit with Damian today?"
Charlotte just shook her head, smoothing out her best blazer and making sure her skirt wasn't creased. "Just wanted some time to think."
Grace studied her carefully. She leaned to her and murmured. "…about…Damian and Darren?"
Charlotte looked at her. Grace's face split to an adorable smile. "It's kind of obvious, Charlotte. To me, anyway." She turned to her fully. "You know this is not about them, and that it's really about how you feel? This time is yours now. You have to be happy—because if you're just troubled, you'll make the wrong decision." She shrugged. "And they don't want that either."
Charlotte stared at her. Her eyes misted up. And then she grabbed Grace into a tight hug. "Ow!" Grace cried, laughing. "You're crushing my ribs, Charlotte!"
"Sorry." Charlotte laughed, wiping her eyes a little.
Grace grinned. "It's competition, Char. What we've all been waiting for, working for. It's time to push all that aside for at least today—and just have fun." She stopped. "Charlotte, why are you wearing that hideous lapel pin? Give me that!"
"Hey! I liked that one!" Charlotte protested, trying to grab it back as Grace held it away from her.
"It's from last year's line, Charlotte, don't be ridiculous. Ow!"
"See? Now you've stabbed yourself with it. Give it back."
-8-
Damian couldn't sit with his friends. He had to sit in front with Gregor, Pentland, and Darren, the designated second soloist. It was purely a decorative title, because Damian had no intentions of suddenly developing severe illness that would prevent him from being onstage.
Pentland didn't like the students making noise in the bus en route unless they were singing, and Gregor happily conducted the others into their warm ups as they went on their way.
Sitting next to Darren promised to be an exercise in patience. Damian had mountains of it, after living in Jefferson. But it looks like it was all for naught, as Darren merely gave him a cool smile, turned to the window and remained silent for the ride.
Damian's phone vibrated.
You all right up there? Darren not giving you problems? –Patrick
And then a follow up: Aside from the obvious, I mean?
Damian smiled faintly and responded: Darren's quiet. So am I. We're not talking to each other. Focusing on competition. –D
If you say so. –Patrick
From the twins:
Saw you and Charlotte making out this morning. –L&L
Damian colored to his scalp and furiously texted. We were NOT making out. –D
Awful tight hug though. You both were as adorable as bunny slippers. ps does she know you have a pair, White Rabbit? –L&L
Damian wished glares could be conveyed over text. If she "suddenly" finds out during this bus ride, I will use your comic book collection as Christmas kindling. –D
He heard laughter from the back of the bus, and then a small commotion at a pair of seats. Damian texted, What's happening there? –D
Grace choked on a Skittle. –Diana
Told you not to give her candy. –D
Charlotte gave. Brought snacks in case of sugar shortage. -Diana
And then a mass message from Patrick to all the Pipers: CHARLOTTE BROUGHT COOKIES FOR THE AFTER PARTY. We must win or we don't get those or Gregor's brownies!
"Miss being with your friends?"
Damian looked up at the first time Darren had spoken. The taller boy was smiling coolly again. "I'm sure if you ask Pentland, he'll let you sit with them."
"No…they can take care of themselves." Damian gave him a sideways glance as he texted the others back. "What about your friends?"
"They're just glad I'm sitting in the front again," Darren sighed, leaning back. He had his phone in his hand, but he had no messages. "It's been a while since I was lead anything here."
"That was by choice, and you know it," Damian remarked without looking at him. "You could have gotten the lead anytime you wanted, Darren. You just stopped wanting it."
"Really? Well, not from the way it looks from here," the other boy snorted a little, playing with his phone. "When I was singing lead, you sang chorus. And there you would've stayed until Patrick and Diana heard you sing on your own—and then you became lead. You're steep competition."
"Coming from you, that's quite a compliment…and quite a threat. I know how volatile you get when you're compared to anyone," Damian said mildly. "Seen it first hand. There had been casualties."
"Touche."
After a moment, Damian put down his phone and said, "I won the fencing match and the duel, Darren. You told me that if I beat you, you would tell me what your beef is with Charlotte."
"I don't have a beef with Charlotte," Darren said calmly, looking out the window. He remained quiet for so long that Damian was just about to say something else, until Darren added, "…I'm in love with Charlotte."
Damian's fingers froze on the tips, that numbness climbing slowly upwards until it was prickling onto his arms. "…what?"
Darren smiled out the window. "You act like you don't know why. I saw the way you looked at her that very first day she tried to spy on us. I saw you sing to her, I didn't know her then—I didn't really care. When I heard and watched her sing for audition, I finally got why you kept flying off to Huntington instead of staying for practice."
He drummed his fingers on the windowsill. "…you have no idea how much that amplified when she walked into the Hall to sing with me that other time. It was the most ridiculous thing that had ever happened to me, I almost hated her for reducing me to this."
Damian clenched his fists silently, trying to figure out how to even react. Knowing Darren the way he did, Damian saw so many underlying words in his statements that he had to compose himself. "If you…do anything untoward to her, Darren—"
"All right, Damian." Darren finally straightened up. He looked at him. "Let's just clear this now. I know you saw her first, but how she looks at me and how she looks at you… She's comparing me to you, Damian. And like you said…" there was no warmth in those hazel eyes anymore, "…I'm really…really volatile…when compared to anyone."
Damian never wavered. He matched that gaze. "That's true… but I'm not going to make it easy for you."
"It would be immensely boring if you did."
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Hawthorne
Jun 19, 2014 1:53:49 GMT -5
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Post by HburgEagle44 on Jun 19, 2014 1:53:49 GMT -5
Ahhhh no not this stupid drama -.-
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Post by tonilous on Jun 19, 2014 18:08:18 GMT -5
"Charlie! Charlie! Finally!" Natasha came running up excitedly to her backstage and gave her a huge hug. Charlotte laughed and hugged back warmly. "It's so good to see you here!"
"You guys are all here?" Charlotte asked, grinning.
"Yup, the whole crew…" Natasha beamed, looking at her with pride. "Finally at competition. Some…issues going on in the green room, though. Austin is still a bit angry that Alex and I are taking the lead."
Charlotte looked confused, but Natasha waved it away. "Whatever—besides that, how are you? I mean, you are going up against us now. I'm sure you've got one heck of a performance planned."
"Well, I don't have a solo but…I think I've started to mesh in pretty well with the group," Charlotte admitted with a relieved smile. "It took me a week, on top of everything else. I'm looking forward to performing with them. How about you? Is it that bad back there?"
"There's a whole lot of drama back there but…" Natasha smiled a little bit. "But when did we not, right? The important thing is we somehow pull it off. We can't lose now, Charlotte—especially with you on the other side." She laughed.
Charlotte smiled a little bit. "Are you…are you guys sure, I mean, is there anything I can do at least? I don't know, yell at someone? I'm getting pretty good at that, apparently."
"Considering what you've been telling me about your friends, I'm not surprised," Natasha snickered. She patted her shoulder. "Look, you just focus on your own group, okay? We got this." Charlotte raised an eyebrow, and Natasha nodded, grinning, "Okay, I think we got this. Well, just…watch us onstage and tell us how we did afterwards. Okay?"
Charlotte gave her a long, affectionate hug, and smiled. "I miss you guys, you know."
"We miss you too. Good luck."
The Piper smiled and waved goodbye as Natasha hurried back to the Huntington Choir greenroom. Charlotte turned around and found Darren standing there with a smile. "We were wondering where you'd gone to," he said.
"I was just—"
Darren laughed. "It's fine, don't look so worried. Everyone knows you came from that group, which makes us doubly interested in what they've brought to the table this time. We definitely got the better end of the bargain, though. They might not be all that much when it comes to skill, if they got rid of your talent so easily."
Charlotte's cheeks flared with all the heat rising to her face. "They did not get rid of me, all right? I left them. You don't even know anything about what happened! They didn't want me to leave! I made the decision to go without them even—"
"Charlotte! Calm down!" Darren put his hands on her shoulders, staring at her. "Relax! I'm sorry—I didn't mean to imply anything. I'm sorry, all right? Calm down."
Charlotte was breathing hard and just glared at him with the minimum conviction necessary. She glanced away. "Just don't talk about them like that."
"I won't, all right? I won't…" Darren assured her. He had yet to let go of Charlotte's shoulders. He leaned down to her. "I still have to thank them, though. …if it weren't for them, I wouldn't have gotten to meet you."
He was uncomfortably close. Charlotte averted her eyes, shrinking back just a bit. "…please let go of me."
Immediately, Darren released her, holding up his hands in a safe distance. "Right. Okay, sorry about that too. I just didn't want you to get upset with me."
Charlotte just nodded, clutching at her elbow. Darren studied her for a moment and smiled. "Why are you so afraid of me? I won't hurt you, Charlotte."
"…I don't know that yet," Charlotte muttered under her breath.
Darren wasn't sure of what he heard, but he knew it wasn't good. He frowned slightly. "…I suppose your other Jefferson friends told you some things about me?"
She sighed. "Maybe."
"You believe them?"
"I don't know, should I?"
"They're biased! Everyone is! Is it because I'm from Adams house? The Jeffersons never have anything good to say about us!"
Charlotte narrowed her eyes at him. "You think that this is about what House you come from? Darren, I really don't care if you come from Adams, or Washington, I don't even care if you board or not! It's what all the other Pipers, no matter what house they're from, say you're like! They've known you longer than I have and they can't trust you!"
"Give me a chance, Charlotte," Darren said, expression almost pleading. His hazel eyes were intense even in the low light. "Just give me a chance. Or at least…talk to me. That's all I want."
When Charlotte didn't answer immediately, hesitating, Darren's temper finally got the better of him. "Why don't you just trust me?" he demanded, slamming a hand to the wall and making Charlotte jump.
Heart pounding at this sudden show of fury, Charlotte finally looked up at him. "Trust? Okay, let's try that. Darren, why did you stop asking for the lead? Why did you let the Pipers down last year? Because everyone has been working to the edge of their lives off for this this year, it had to be the same last year. They were all counting on you—they trusted you and then you left them all hanging. And everyone said you were good, brilliant and you still are! And then you just dropped them because you didn't feel like it anymore! Why did you just stop?"
Darren looked stunned. "I…" he looked around him, as though looking for the answer. He licked his lips, looking anxious for a moment, and then suddenly became furious. "Well, what about you? Why do I have to explain anything to you, new kid? You think you're some kind of saint? You dumped your friends to join a better group after you saw us, didn't you? You dropped them right before competition! You're no different from me!"
Charlotte stared at him, mouth open slightly in what might have been shock or just disgust. Then she just dropped her gaze, laughed hollowly and shook her head. In a low tone, she said, "…you think…I left my friends, my family…and everything I had left in Huntington…because I wanted to be in a "better" group…"
"Well didn't you?" Darren glowered down at her, breathing hard. "You could have stayed, but you're here, aren't you?"
Charlotte took one step towards him, green eyes locked on Darren's hazel ones.
And she slapped him. Soundly.
At the unprecedented action, Darren stared into the side for a moment, frozen in shock. Charlotte glared at him. "You are just such an…" She stopped herself and exhaled, recovering, trying to control all the rage that was in her. "…get over yourself, Darren." And then she walked off, fuming silently.
Darren seemed to come to his senses. "Charlotte!" he turned to her, but Charlotte just stormed into the other corridor and vanished. Darren groaned in frustration and rage, punching one of the nearby stage props, the wood shattering beneath his fist. His hand bled some, but he didn't care. He slumped back to the wall and slid down to the floor, trying to calm himself down.
Lucas and Logan quietly watched from the other end of the corridor, faces impassive. They considered the figure against the wall and then to the direction where the other had gone. They looked at each other, nodded silently, and went the same way.
-8-
Will knew something was wrong when he walked into the greenroom.
The twins weren't talking, and that was always the bad sign. They just sat there, arms crossed and faces stony. Darren was standing at one side with the other Adams Pipers, one of which was helping bandage his knuckles. Charlotte sat in silence, face white and eyes distant. Damian stood over her, hand on her shoulder, looking deeply concerned. Patrick and Diana were hovering near her, looking confused and throwing glares at Darren. Grace looked anxious. All the rest of the Pipers looked divided in attention, talking darkly about suspicions about what might have happened, and what went on last year.
"What happened here?" Will demanded. The room instantly fell silent. He looked at Darren with a frown. "What happened to Darren's hand?"
"I cut myself, sir," Darren said in a low tone. "I fell onto a stage prop."
"Odd, that's usually Grace's excuse," Will snapped, knowing he was lying. "Any reason why it's just your knuckles that are damaged, Darren?"
No answer. Will turned to the Jefferson students. "What happened to Charlotte?"
"We don't know, sir," said Damian truthfully. He didn't know. Charlotte just walked in there looking white, shaky, and lost in thought. Her body was incredibly tense, slowly easing, like ebbing rage. But the look on her face was of doubt, guilt and self-questioning. She seemed like she had gotten into some kind of fight, but she was not injured—so Darren's cut knuckles weren't the cause.
Will frowned at them all. "Look at all of you. The atmosphere here is so negative, that none of you even look like a team! Just like last year! And stop glaring at him Patrick! Diana!" he snapped when, at the mention of the previous year, the two immediately glowered at Darren. The two dropped their eyes immediately. "I've had enough of these dramatics!"
He turned to the whole group. "You all come from one school. All from different Houses, come together to make some real music and show them all what a real show choir should sound like. As a group. As a unit. You're smashing each other to pieces before we can even place an achievement next to your names! What are you so smug about? The fact that this generation of Pipers doesn't have a single National title to its name, all because they had to keep dwelling on battle lines?"
He glared at all the students, who now looked guilty and couldn't look at him. "I've just been to the other greenroom. I've seen and heard Huntington warm up. They're a twelve-member choir and you know what? I wish they would beat you! I wish they would beat each and every one of you so soundly that it would wake you all up to the fact that all of you are strongest only when you work together."
He looked at each of them in the eye, lingering on the particular ones but never naming them. "You know your sound. One unit, forming a perfect harmony. Each one carrying an integral part. It takes all of you, to make the Pipers what they're so famous for."
There was silence in the greenroom. The Pipers glanced guiltily at one another. Will glowered at them. Arabele who had been watching from the door now carefully walked in. She smiled gently at all of them, gesturing for them all to stand.
"All right," she said carefully. "Shall we have one last warm up? On my signal, give me your group chord. Ready?" The Pipers hesitated and barely nodded. She lifted her hands and made a gentle sweeping gesture. The Pipers, all together, let out a chord—but it didn't sound right. Someone was too high, too low, ended too fast, or too late.
Will pushed up his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, looking frustrated. Even some of the Pipers looked chagrined at such an output. But Arabele just smiled. "Ah… Did you hear that? Didn't sound quite right. It's because you all are thinking too much about other things. Let's try that again, all right? This time, listen to each other. Your voice must support everyone else's—and know that without you doing this, it will not work."
She urged them forward. "Deep breath. Push everything aside, and just focus on one, single sound. Because this is you. All of you, understand? Can you do it again now?"
The Pipers looked at each other. Damian looked at them and smiled. He gestured for them to take it away. The Pipers nodded, smiling faintly. This time, they moved to their proper base formations, each in their proper place, standing tall.
Arabele beamed. "And again." She lifted her hands and gently swept inward and upward.
In unison, the Pipers sang a single, powerful chord—a union of harmonious voices—that rang through the room, spilling outside, making passerby look up and wonder where it was coming from. Arabele was beaming brightly as she carefully made a cutting gesture and all the Pipers stopped in perfect unison.
"Much better," she said, smiling.
The Pipers looked at each other, grinning and smirking.
Even Will almost smiled now. He slowly got up. "That sounded a bit better… maybe you guys now actually have a shot in winning. Unlikely, but there's a light."
Brief murmur of laughs. The students of Jefferson looked at one another and grinned. Damian took Charlotte's hand and was happy to see her smile at him. Even Darren smiled slightly at their director with a nod. One of the stage hands now arrived at the door.
"Mr. Pentland? Ms. Gregor? We're about to begin. You may take places in the audience as the other groups are going first."
-8-
The auditorium erupted into applause when the Pipers finished their performance. They held their elated smiles from their positions, waiting for the curtains to drop again. As soon as it fell, the entire group burst into cheers and applause, cuffing each other in relief and excitement.
"We did it! I can't believe it, we performed at competition!" Grace cried, jumping up and down—and nearly fell off her position if one of the twins hadn't grabbed her before she fell. Patrick and Diana were laughing, hugging and cuffing every Piper they could reach as they got off the steps, massing to the backstage.
Charlotte jumped down from her step and pushed her way to Damian, giving him a quick hug as the other Pipers swarmed her with praises. Damian was surprised but hugged back, laughing.
"You were great," Charlotte grinned, flushed with adrenaline.
"And you didn't miss a step," Damian beamed down at her, holding onto her waist. "I guess you're officially one of us now. You're a Piper, Charlotte Summers, how does it feel?"
"Not bad at all," Charlotte laughed.
"Come on!" Damian called to the other Pipers as they rushed backstage. "Let's go see what Huntington has packing!"
There was chorus of agreement as they did so. Charlotte smiled up at Damian. "Gonna help me support my friends?"
"Of course. They gave us a standing ovation, after all," Damian grinned. "Besides, I want to see what style you had previously come from. Who knows—maybe Pentland would like that and let you get a bit of that in for the next performance. Make you feel more at home."
Charlotte turned red, pleased, and Damian took her hand to lead her after the others. As Charlotte followed, she caught Darren's eye, who was also being given friendly pats and cuffs as they hurried off. Her smile dropped a fraction, and she just glanced away, following Damian. Darren's gaze followed after her, but he just smiled a little to the other Pipers who were congratulating him and each other.
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Hawthorne
Jun 19, 2014 19:29:07 GMT -5
via mobile
Post by HburgEagle44 on Jun 19, 2014 19:29:07 GMT -5
Whoo go Charlotte!!
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Post by tonilous on Jun 19, 2014 20:47:27 GMT -5
The Huntington Choir was in the middle of their performance and already Charlotte could see the Pipers looking very interestingly up at them. They were grinning, studying their movements. They especially looked impressed with Justin's and Fiona's wild dance moves, flipping and twirling all over the stage. Charlotte had no idea that Kassie would be singing the solo, and she felt proud of the choir vixen's vocals as she gave it everything she had.
And as she expected, if there had been any problems backstage, at this moment, the choir didn't look as though they had any. Each and every one of them came alive onstage—even her stepbrother didn't do too bad.
"Man, they are good," Patrick whispered to Damian.
"We're in trouble, aren't we?" Diana muttered.
"Singing flowers!" the twins chirruped happily from where they were devouring packs of snacks, going through a giant package of red vines.
"You used to do all this?" Grace turned to Charlotte with wide eyes. "I mean, it's not the normal show choir style, but man, you guys are amazing! Singing while dancing like that!"
Charlotte had so much pride in her chest, watching her friends, that she felt as though she would explode. She might as well have—the moment Justin and Fiona made the final flip in their routine, Charlotte leapt to her feet, applauding, joined the rest of the Pipers and the audience, cheering for the Huntington group.
Damian glanced to their director, and smirked when he saw Will nodding with a smile, impressed and clearly turning ideas in his head. Arabele looked delighted to see such theatrics from the Huntington group and clearly also thought they were wonderful.
"They're good," smiled Will.
"Amazing," Arabele agreed.
"Now let's just hope our group managed to pull themselves to a win."
-8-
"What do you mean we tied?" demanded Diana in a shocked whisper from where she stood with the other Pipers. The Pipers looked confused as they looked at each other and even Mr. Hayes looked a bit puzzled. Will only looked as though he almost expected it. But there was no changing the judges decision—both the Huntington Choir and the Pipers would be going to the next level— Regionals, they announced.
For a moment, the audience was silent, also a bit puzzled. Huntington stood staring, stunned, looking at each other. The Pipers were as puzzled at this, if not more so.
"How…" Grace was biting her nails. "Has this ever—"
"Oh man," the twins looked confused.
"What's wrong with you guys?" Damian whispered back, giving them a pointed look. "Don't you get it? Let it sink in for a bit—we've just won the competition! The Pipers are going to Regionals!"
"Yeah we did!" Patrick yelled, throwing a punch into the air and the Pipers erupted into cheers. At this signal, the auditorium came to life, erupting into cheers that lifted to the rafters. Confetti came falling from above. There was bedlam on the stage as the groups went crazy, throwing songsheets and programs into the air as their Directors shook hands.
"Charlotte!" Natasha cried, running across the madness of the stage to engulf her in a hug. "We won! All of us, we won!"
"I can't believe it!" Charlotte exclaimed, hugging her tight.
"Charlotte! Look, it's Charlie!" Mia yelled from where she was clinging onto Andrew. Huntington immediately swarmed onto their prodigal one, hugging and cheering with her. The girls all talking at the same time and the boys giving her high fives and pats on the back.
"Good to see you again," Alex smiled. "You guys did great."
"I know, so did you," Charlotte laughed. Hunter gave her a high five and Charlotte nearly buckled under the force of Mark's hand on her back, clapping her heavily there in congratulations.
The Pipers watched in amusement as Charlotte was enveloped by her Huntington family. "She looks pretty happy," Grace said, smiling. "Look at her."
Charlotte was laughing at something Kassie said, and she congratulated Justin and Fiona for their dance. "Yeah…" Damian nodded slowly, faint smile. "Those guys took care of her…now it's our turn, I guess."
"Yeah, or Alice will leave Warbler Land," the twins grinned.
"Guys!" Charlotte breathed, dragging the Huntingtons to the Pipers. "These are my friends."
"Oh we've met," Rose grinned. Justin blinked. "You did? When?"
"Uh…long story," Kassie rolled her eyes, waving it away.
Charlotte introduced them all to one another, and the Pipers and Huntingtons greeted each other on that stage, with Charlotte forming a bridge between the two groups. "You guys did amazingly," Damian told Alex with a smile.
"Your group's vocals—they were so solid in harmony, it was great," Hunter said to Grace, who was grinning.
"Yay! Talking flowers!" the twins grabbed Natasha's and Mia's hands, twirling them onstage, making the two girls laugh.
The choir Directors stood to the side, watching their two groups interact. "Not bad at all, Tim," grinned Will. "You've got a talented group there."
"So are yours. That's quite a sound they've got. But my kids, yeah, they worked hard," Tim nodded with a smile. "We had our problems but…worked out in the end."
"Ah, same," nodded Will. "I bet the only reason we tied was because both our groups had so many issues in their heads that they couldn't give it everything they've got the way they're supposed to."
"That I'll believe," Tim laughed, shaking his head. "They made it all right this time…but they can't be like this if they want to beat Westhampton."
"Oh…" Arabele shook her head, looking worried. "I know. Our team better get their acts together. They'll be facing you and a juggernaut for their first Regionals."
"We'll see you then, Tim?" Will shook hands with him with a smile.
"See you then." Tim turned to Huntington who were all making a cacophony with the group of Pipers onstage, scattered singing of "The Dog Days are Over" as they did, laughing too hard to actually be coherent. He smiled and said, "All right, guys, let's pack it up. Let's go."
"Guys!" said Will to the Pipers, leading them towards the stage exits, "We can celebrate later! I want a big talk with you guys again before we have that after party."
"Party!" the twins exclaimed, delighted. "We get to eat Charlotte's cookies!"
"They want to eat your what?" Kassie looked at Charlotte in a flash of confusion.
"Baked goods, Kassie get your head out of the gutter—go on get out of here…" Charlotte smirked, motioning to where the rest of them were going, following Tim. She hugged each member of Huntington as they left, genuinely happy to see them all again.
The audience was leaving as well, slowly draining out of the auditorium. As Charlotte bid her friends goodbye, Alex moved away from her view of the audience and Charlotte saw something that made her blood run cold.
In the audience, standing at the side, one of the few not yet leaving, was Vince Fitzpatrick. He was watching Charlotte, no expression of his face; or maybe too far to properly see it. He just simply stood there, watching her.
Charlotte's heart shot to her throat and her hand reached out to grab the nearest jacket sleeve her touch could get to—Patrick's. "Charlotte?" he asked, surprised. "What is it?" He saw Charlotte's face, white as a sheet and the grip on his sleeve tightening. "Charlotte, what's wrong?"
The other Pipers in the area started to look. Damian turned around and saw Charlotte's expression, then to where she was staring. He was staring out to the boy in the jacket in the audience, now moving to exit, but never breaking eye-contact with Charlotte.
"Charlotte, you're scaring me," said Grace, frightened. "What is it?"
Darren, who was nearby with other Pipers, saw the commotion and frowned, looking to where Charlotte was. He saw Fitzpatrick and his brow furrowed a little, not understanding.
Darren took two strides and was next to the paralyzed girl in an instant. "Charlotte," he grabbed her other hand. "Don't look at him. Don't look at him—look at me." He shook his arm. "Look at me, Charlotte!"
Shaking, Charlotte turned terrified green eyes at him, breath coming short, nodding shakily. "Is that him?" Diana demanded to no one in particular as she stood near her. "Is that the guy?"
The twins stood on either side of Charlotte now, glaring at the boy in the crowd. The group of blue blazers stood protectively around her, looking at Fitzpatrick right back, until he made it to the exit, and vanished.
"Come on," said Damian gently. "Don't let him get to you. You're safe now, remember? You're safe—it's okay."
"I—I nearly got him expelled…" Charlotte stammered. "What if he—"
"There are no what ifs," Damian snapped sternly, trying to get a rise out of her. It made Charlotte look up. "You're with us now, you understand? It's all right. You're safe."
Charlotte, heart pounding in her throat, looked at Damian and whispered, "…he said he was going to hurt me, Damian. More than he had already."
All the Pipers now turned to Charlotte. "He said what?" Damian demanded, as it was also the first time he had heard of it.
"He…" Grace turned shock white.
Patrick and Diana were moving across the stage with fierce strides now and the twins leapt forward and grabbed their arms. "Whoa! Hey! Stop—stop! Don't go there, guys!"
"Go there?" Patrick demanded. "That guy's been there and back! And he shows up here to see Charlotte?"
"Don't do this now! He's gone!" Lucas snapped. "He didn't do anything here. Come on!"
Diana shrugged free of Luke's grasp, glaring at him.
"Why didn't you tell me this?" Damian demanded to Charlotte, voice rising. "All you told me was that he was verbally abusing you and making fun of you and downright terrifying you and the incident in the locker room, and now—" He stopped, then came to the realization. "…that was it. That was it, wasn't it? That's the reason you left. …he threatened you…" Damian stared at her in shock.
Charlotte swallowed, lowering her eyes, calming a little. "…yes. It was that. I nearly—I nearly got him expelled for it and…" she choked, forcing herself to become calm, struggling. "…the school board overturned it. He was coming back and I…I had to leave." She moved a hand through her hair, trying to compose herself. "...I couldn't tell you. I just...I couldn't."
Grace put an arm around her friend comfortingly. "Let's go. He's gone, you're okay. Let's go back to the greenroom and…give you something to calm you down." She led her offstage. The rest of the Pipers looked at each other darkly, but followed.
Standing at the wings, Darren watched all this. He turned and walked away once they all disappeared.
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Hawthorne
Jun 19, 2014 20:52:54 GMT -5
via mobile
Post by HburgEagle44 on Jun 19, 2014 20:52:54 GMT -5
Yay they tied!!!
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Post by barbt on Jun 19, 2014 21:23:30 GMT -5
I'm glad they tied, but oh, boy is there an issue now with Charlotte.
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Post by tonilous on Jun 20, 2014 3:40:17 GMT -5
Hawthorne Temperature
Like clockwork, Noel opened his eyes to the sound of his alarm clock going on at six AM precisely. Groggy, he shot out a hand from under the covers, groped for the alarm clock and managed to feel its steel frame in his hand. He then proceeded to hurl the offending device into the same wall he had been throwing it at for the last year. There was already a convenient dent there.
Yawning, he got up, dark hair flopping upwards fluffily. He stretched and tried to flatten his hair down, he felt static electricity through it. He paused carefully, considering. It was cold like last circle of heck in Jefferson this morning, darker than usual too. And now the static in his hair.
While others may have deduced that it was a normal winter phenomena, Noel Montgomery was far too experienced a hunter for that. He immediately pulled out a bagful of holy-water-dampened rock salt blessed with all the right incantations. He cast a narrow-eyed look of suspicious alertness throughout the room.
In a single bound, he sprang off the bed and launched into the air. He landed with both feet onto a salt-lined perimeter placed at the precise spot he always landed on, rolled, and raced into the bathroom, slamming it shut, inwardly praising himself for his excellence in avoiding the malignant specters yet again.
Gonna have to do better than that to capture Noel Montgomery! he mentally crowed before leaping into the bath.
His roommate merely continued to sleep—used to this daily occurrence.
Later, Noel was fully dressed in school uniform, still proud of himself. The hair couldn't be helped, it was still fluffed up. He jogged downstairs, carrying his school satchel and his black coat, ready to face the day's educational fray while remaining vigilant about every single sign of unusual spiritual activity within their ancient school.
He took pride in the fact that he woke earlier than most of Jefferson, and that with this careful vigilance, he would be able to properly protect his fellow Jeffersons as the one defender against mortals and all of demonkind.
Yep…I am awesome. Noel flung open the door.
…ah crap.
-8-
"What in…the heck…?" Diana and Patrick hissed from the foyer, still in their sleepwear, hands under their arms and wearing slippers. They had just been roused by Noel's unceasing yells for them to wake up and come downstairs, and while they were prepared to shake him down, they stared at what was outside their door.
Their exit out of Jefferson was two-thirds blocked with solid snow. It was packed so tight that when Noel had opened the door, it was just this wall of gray that faced them, with only a top sliver of free air.
"There is no way we are getting out of here with that!" Patrick said, aghast.
"It's like this even in the back door!" Noel howled, gesturing at the gray wall of ice. "And the first floor windows! What is going on here?"
"Why are you asking us?" Diana yawned, glowering at him irritably. "We just got up, man, I haven't even had my coffee yet. And it's freezing."
Grace came in, wearing a downy robe and slippers with her pajamas, still looking drowsy. "The fireplace in the common's all wet. We have to clear all that snow out the way or we can't light a fire!"
Patrick cursed and grumbled, glowering at all the ridiculous snow that was up to window level and worse in some spots. "This is just perfect. How are we supposed to get to class?"
"Hate to break it to you, guys…" said Logan, hanging over them from the mezzanine, "but we're not going anywhere. No one is."
"You all want to come take a look at this," his twin grinned.
The students looked at each other and then went up to where Lucas and Logan were smiling much too happily for the situation. The identical ones were gesturing out one of the second floor windows that faced the rest of campus. They pushed the windows open—snow crumbling away as they did—and let the others take a look. Diana and some other Jeffersons stuck their heads out the windows to see. Diana's jaw dropped in shock.
Hawthorne was almost completely sunk in snow. Jefferson was barricaded by cold whiteness in all directions. The snow had to be at almost four feet deep all around them, with even more fat flakes drifting down from the sky. There was just cold everywhere with nearly no exception. The fountain at the front had frozen. And from where they were, they could see that Adams house and the South and Main in the distance was in the same fix. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, Washington on the other end must be blocked up too.
"It's just a whole lot of white out there!" Patrick yelled from the third floor window he was looking out from, holding a pair of binoculars. "There aren't even any paths! If we want to get out, we'll have to fight our way out of all this ice!"
"I'm not going out there!" Noel almost screamed. "Are you insane? It's like the blizzard sequence in Balto!"
Grace came back in. "Our phone and power lines are underground so they're still working—but I just got a call from Burkhart. She says that all the boarding professors are also stuck inside the teachers' quarters, and the others couldn't even get close to campus."
"How did this happen?" Patrick asked, still aghast.
"You guys didn't anger anything, did you?" Noel asked suspiciously.
Lucas and Logan finally clomped heavily into the hall with great pride, wearing what was unmistakably full winter gear, down to a hat, gloves, snow goggles and boots. They each had snowboards tucked under one arm. They pulled up their goggles in unison and grinned as the others stared at them.
Lucas smirked. "According to the weather channel, we are smack dab in the middle of what is an unprecedented level of snowfall in Massachusetts history."
"And that authorities everywhere are currently scrambling to provide aid those trapped by all this snow, and that they are tirelessly working to clear it all out," Logan added with a smile.
"But they're not doing that much of a good job."
"They're trying, but it's definitely a snow day for us."
"Because they aren't going to get to Northampton properly until later this afternoon."
"Which means that we could be stranded with no rescue."
"Forced to survive on our wits!"
"And having to sit inside watching daytime soaps!"
"And canned food!"
"Seriously, we're basically screwed, though," said Lucas.
Logan nodded. "Like in Alive."
"Except without the eating each other part."
"We hope."
Noel blanched, automatically clutching his talisman. "…I'm not very edible; I'm all skin and bones like my mother keeps telling me, just FYI."
Patrick gave him a sideways glance of disbelief and then looked back to the twins. "So we slept through a blizzard, we're trapped indoors, and you want to go snowboarding?"
"We were thinking maybe trying it down the roof of the Observatory first. It's got a nice clean slope to it."
"You guys, I don't think we should be having this much fun," Grace said a little doubtfully, biting her nails again. "The professors—"
"—are locked in under four feet of snow," Logan said patiently. "What's your point?"
"You could break your necks, maybe?" Grace said, hands to hips. "And, I don't know…die both an academic and literal death?"
"That's right!" said Lucas, making his way to the balcony with his twin. "And I suggest we make the most of it while we have this opportunity!"
"Opportunity?" Diana raised an eyebrow in disbelief as she followed them.
"Oh you poor, prim Hatter…" Logan smiled patronizingly, putting an arm over her shoulder as he gestured dramatically to the balcony and all the whiteness that was Hawthorne, sweeping his hand out like Mufasa at Pride Rock. "Look, Diana… Everything the light touches…" he paused, "…is…well, pretty messed up," he admitted.
"What?" Diana stared at him like he was crazy.
"He means," said Lucas said, patting Diana's back heavily, "Let's get cracking—it's not going to last all day!"
With twin whoops, both of them hurled themselves off the balcony and landed with a heavy flop into the snow. The others gasped and ran out to the balcony, looking down. "Hey! You guys! Are you all right?"
Uproarious laughter was coming from the snowbank below, both twins half buried in snow awkwardly, struggling to get up again. They were laughing too hard to be successful.
"This is great!" Logan yelled from where he was struggling to get up. He waved wildly, sending snow flying. "Come on! Let's go, you guys!" Lucas was pelting the students on the other windows with snowballs.
Patrick smirked at little and glanced sideways at Diana. Diana, still looking in disbelief at the twins, looked to him, then did a double take. Patrick had a glove on, and he had a lot of snow scooped up in it. Diana gave him a warning look even as she edged away. "Don't even try it, Patrick. Don't even—"
BAP!
"Get back here, Patrick!"
And Jefferson house broke into bedlam as the others came pounding down the dormitory in their snow gear, jumping out of windows and into the whiteness outside.
-8-
Charlotte opened her door, rubbing her eyes, wondering what the riot was all about this time. Grace walked up to her with a long-suffering smile. Charlotte blinked blearily, eyes swollen with sleep. "What's happening?"
Grace shrugged and smiled. "Snow day."
I'm Charlotte and this is Hawthorne Academy.
We made it through competition in one piece, but we were going to have to do a lot better than that to beat Westhampton for Regionals.
Oh.
During competition, I slapped Darren Wright in the face.
…and it kind of felt good, actually.
"So much for the "Fall" Music Festival," muttered Noel grumpily, huddled by the fire in the common room, wrapped in a huge black comforter. He looked like a giant blob of black pudding. "Administration kind of overshot their estimation of "Fall". I don't know about you, but all that snow says "Winter" to me."
Grace just laughed, getting up from where she was poking at the logs. "Won't it make it easier then—if we sing Christmas carols for the festival instead?" She stood and brushed off wood chips from her pants, and then cringed. "Oh man…! Another splinter!" she sighed, holding her injured index finger, and headed back upstairs to find the first aid kit.
Charlotte presently came into the common, wearing a white Chanel sweater that Grace had lent (or given) her. She was carrying a tray loaded with hot drinks and frowned at the group of students in the common room, dripping in melting snow and huddled in covers.
"And what did we learn today?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at them.
"…not to go out when there's four feet of snow?" Logan asked helpfully, he and Lucas sharing the same comforter.
"How were we supposed to know that not more than fifteen minutes after we get out a second assault of snow will come falling?" Lucas grumbled. Charlotte rolled her eyes and handed him a cup of something warm. "You were the ones who watched the weather channel and you didn't know?"
"Kind of stopped listening after "four feet of snow" and "snow day" and "stranded"."
"I'm sure," Charlotte snorted. "It took me and Noel half an hour to drag you all back in here before you all basically became candidates for cryogenesis. While the rest of the guys had good sense to stay near Jefferson, oh no, you were more ambitious—you all had to go to Adams house and throw snowballs at them."
"They threw back!" Patrick protested, head sticking out of a bright blue comforter.
"You started it," Charlotte said with finality. She held out a warm cup to him as well.
Patrick peeked into it. "What's this?"
"Something I wanted to try. I saw a recipe on the internet."
Logan was drinking his when his eyes suddenly went wide when he realized what it was. "Oh! Oh!" and then started drinking the whole thing down as though he were all but inhaling it. He grabbed Lucas' cup and started drinking out of that as well. "Hey!" his twin protested.
Charlotte gave them a slight smirk. Patrick sipped his and blinked. "Oh…! Hey, is this—?"
"It's butterbeer!" Lucas yelled when he finally managed to grab the cup back from his brother and got a taste. "Charlotte made butterbeer!"
Patrick grabbed Charlotte's hands, eyes wide and staring up at her. "Hey Charlotte, if you and Damian don't plan on getting a move on, can I marry you, please?"
Charlotte, bright scarlet, swatted him lightly on the shoulder with the drink tray and got up. "Where is Damian, anyway? I haven't seen him yet this morning."
"He must still be—" Diana never got to continue as Grace came hurtling down the stairs, all but throwing herself down them, slipping a few times as she did. She banged her shoulder as she rounded the banister end—she just winced and kept going—and skidded into the common room.
"Guys!" she breathed. "Come quick! Damian's really hot!"
A terse pause.
Noel gave her an incredulous, narrow-eyed stare. "I…think Charlotte is well aware of that, though, Grace…"
Charlotte smacked a pillow into Noel's face, knocking the spiritualist over with a grunt, but she turned quickly to Grace. "What do you mean?"
"Seriously, he's burning up! Come on!" and she just turned and ran up the stairs. Charlotte immediately followed after her, the rest of the others shedding their comforters and running up the stairs.
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Post by tonilous on Jun 20, 2014 4:36:39 GMT -5
Hi!
As I have previously noted in my other stories, I will unfortunately not be updating my stories until Thursday or Friday of next week because from Sunday until Thursday, I will be going out camping with a few of my friends. (Oh Lord) Regrettably, I won't be updating tomorrow or Saturday either because I have yet still to pack (broken laugh) and I happen to be a very paranoid packer.
I decided to wait to update Within A Heartbeat until I get back, because my inspiration for the story is rather low and I don't want to continue it with mediocrity because it does have potential.
Oh, and this was my favorite chapter to write. I really enjoyed it. I figured this would be a good spot to end it on until then.
With that said, happy reading!
"Damian…?" Charlotte asked as she sat at the edge of the bed, leaning over the Jefferson prefect curled up under thick sheets. Damian was shivering but he remained fitfully asleep. Charlotte was a veteran at taking care of people by now—with only her and her mom, she was the one who had to look after her mother whenever she got sick.
She touched Damian's palms and his forehead, and then shook her head. "He's really burning up."
"What do we do?" asked Patrick anxiously. He glanced outside—it was still falling heavily out. "I mean…we can't take him to the medical wing. There's just no way we can carry him out through all that snow."
"Don't we have any medicine here?" Charlotte asked as she took a digital thermometer out of the first aid kit Grace handed to her. After a click, Charlotte looked at it. She sighed deeply, concerned. "It's a really high fever. He's a little over a hundred and three."
The other students looked aghast. Charlotte kept her hand on Damian's forehead and looked at Patrick. "We need to bring down his fever. Whole lot of ice out there, Patrick; could you get me some and put it in an ice pack?" Patrick left without question.
"I'll go see if we have any medication in the kitchen," Diana said, leaving as well.
"What can we do?" asked the twins, hovering anxiously over them.
Grace sat up. "Oh—maybe I can—"
"No, not the comforters," Charlotte immediately told her. "Remember last time. We're not trying to smother him here." Grace wilted somewhat, but remained looking worried.
Charlotte leaned down over Damian, checking how he was breathing. In all other aspects she would have never ever have dared to lean this close to him. He did seem to have some trouble breathing—"He sounds a little bit congested…" Charlotte straightened up, for an instant wondering what to do, but when she turned back to the others, Grace was holding out a container of menthol rub out to her.
Charlotte gave her current (and possibly soon to be expired) best friend a look between stunned and murderous, but Grace, with the minutest twitch of the corner of her lips, simply raised her eyebrows in askance.
Gingerly, Charlotte took the container from her. The twins had these ridiculously knowing smiles on their faces, clearly enjoying what was going to happen next. She glared malevolently at them, as though daring them to say anything, but they only also looked at her expectantly.
"Why don't the two of you leave and see if you can get a hold of the school nurse?" Charlotte said tersely, red rising into her face. "Ask her what we should do?"
The two looked disappointed, but got up and did not contest. Grace smiled at them as they left, then turned back to Charlotte, who was also looking at her pointedly. But Grace just smiled brightly. "No, I'm not going anywhere."
"Oh, for the love of…" Charlotte sighed deeply but just shook her head. "Fine."
She turned to Damian, cogitating what she was about to do. Biting her lip, she carefully moved her hands towards Damian's collar to start unbuttoning, but she froze and jerked her hands back when the boy on the bed moved. Grace had to cover her mouth to smother a laugh.
Charlotte frowned at her and Grace looked apologetic while her eyes sparkled with interest. "You know what, fine…" Charlotte finally said. She reached up and opened Damian's shirt. If she did it fast enough, she wouldn't have to think about it. She rubbed some of the balm onto her hands and applied it in careful strokes over Damian's chest and shoulders.
Grace had an attack of the giggles and had to leave the room. It was terrible, she knew, since Damian was so sick, but seeing how awkward Charlotte looked only made the situation more comical.
Now alone and unobserved, Charlotte felt a great deal less awkward as she studied Damian's contorted expression as he slept. Just as Charlotte was about to finish, he stirred, hands reaching him carefully to carefully clasp the ones on his shoulders.
"…Char…?" he whispered hoarsely.
Awkward as it was, Charlotte couldn't help but smile. She'd never seen Damian look quite so vulnerable before. "Yeah, it's me… How do you feel…?"
"…like death warmed up."
Charlotte smiled a bit more. "Well I can't blame you—you've got a terrible fever." She made to move her hands away, but Damian held onto her wrists. Surprised, Charlotte looked down at him. "…what?"
"…nothing." But he kept holding her hands, eyes closed.
Charlotte flushed, turning her gaze away. After a while, Damian seemed to breathe a little easier and let go. He smiled faintly at her. "Sorry… That was kind of awkward, now that I think about it…"
"You're sick, I don't expect you to think rationally," Charlotte gave him a smirk.
"Why are you still here…?" Damian asked, confused as he glanced at the clock at his bedside. "What about class…?"
"It's a snow day," Charlotte said matter-of-factly as she tucked the covers back around Damian. "Literally. Campus is apparently four feet deep in snow. Even the professors can't get out."
Damian turned away a moment to cough into his hand. It sounded terrible. "…have to make sure the twins don't go (cough) snowboarding…"
"They already did."
"…and not to let Grace near the fireplace…"
"Already did that too."
"…what about Patrick and Di throwing snow at Adams?"
Charlotte marveled at how well Damian knew exactly what his friends would be doing on a snow day. But she shook her head. "You're way too late. Noel and I had to pull them all back in here when the second wind hit."
"You're all right, though?" Damian asked.
"Why are you talking? Why are you worried about me?" Charlotte scolded, pushing him back down. "Damian, you've got a hundred and three-degree fever, you can barely breathe, you're in the middle of the blizzard of the decade—you have to just lie down, all right?"
Damian stared at her, eyes bloodshot. "…right." He leaned his head back onto the pillow. "You know…I didn't want you to see me like this."
"Too late for that too," said Charlotte as Patrick walked in to the room with the ice pack. She took it from him and put it on Damian's head. He winced at the coldness but Charlotte just shot him a look and he left it on his head.
"You look like crap, Damo," said Patrick, half joking and half serious.
"I'll take your word for it," Damian grumbled. Charlotte tucked the covers more snugly around him and watched as he started to drift off to sleep again.
That was when Diana came in looking distressed. She carried some pills with her, but she shook her head as she handed them to Charlotte. "That's all we've got. Aren't even the right ones, most of them. And…we kind of don't have much food left in the house. At least, nothing Damian should be eating like that."
"How long did they say this storm was going to go?" Charlotte asked, worried.
"Hours? But even if it stopped, there's still a whole lot of snow on the ground. How'd we get out?"
Lucas peeked into the doorway. "Charlotte. Come here a second."
With a glance at Damian, Charlotte rose and went to the twins outside. Lucas looked bothered and shifted uncomfortably when Charlotte looked up at them. "We managed to get a hold of Ms. Nelson. She's still in her house, but because of the storm, she can't come here. She sounded upset when we described to her how bad Damian looked. She said that we have to watch him carefully for the next few hours. If he doesn't get any better, she'll call for a medical helicopter to come get him."
"He won't get any better…" Charlotte muttered. "We don't have enough medication—we don't even have that much food. Your housekeeping skills are hideous."
"We're aware," the twins sighed. "Pets don't live long, either."
"Lindsey's spider lived for a month, I think."
"Until Noel's "familiar" swallowed it. And then the familiar died."
Lucas saw the look on Charlotte's face and quickly ran back to the topic. "But we've got to try."
Charlotte stood, considering for a moment. And then she looked up as she got a thought. "You told me when I first came here that you can open any door in this campus. …can you open the clinic? They'll have the things we need there."
"Charlotte, you're talking about going out in that!" Lucas pointed to the storm. "Even if we did have a key to open the door and the cabinets—which, we just might—you'll never get there right now. It'll have to wait until the storm dies down even a little."
"Look." Logan put his hand on Charlotte's shoulder when he saw how worried she was. "We don't like this any more than you do. But Damian wouldn't want you to go running out there either."
"What about you two, then?"
"We can't snowboard across campus," Lucas rolled his eyes. "This is Massachusetts, not Aspen. Charlotte, I promise we will go once the storm lets up even a micron. Relax. Here, I'll even give you the key, if it makes you feel better." He put an unadorned silver key into Charlotte's palm.
Relax. Right. Charlotte just shook her head and turned back to the room. Maybe…he'll get a little better.
-8-
Damian didn't get worse but he didn't get better, either.
While the others tried to scrounge for food and cleaned up broken glass from the windows smashed in by snow and wind, Charlotte was sitting with Damian. It had been some hours since they found him. Damian would fall asleep and wake, and neither time he looked relaxed. He only looked cold and ill. Charlotte gave him his medication and that helped for a while, but it would only work if it was constant.
There was enough junk in the house to fuel the others for the day, but the stock wouldn't help Damian in the least. All Charlotte could temporarily give him was a couple of apples, which he could barely eat.
Charlotte started to notice how important Damian was in the house. The other students kept passing by his door as though looking to ask him about things, but they would remember he was sick and would leave. Damian was the Acting House Prefect, and they all naturally turned to him for things, but now that even he was sick, there was no one to tell them what to do. Diana had to take over, keeping them away from Damian and trying to keep the house intact.
It had to be some form of Karma, he had told Charlotte.
"You don't have to stay here, Char," Damian had whispered later that day. "You might catch it too."
"I don't trust anyone around here with caring for someone ill," Charlotte rolled her eyes. "They can barely even look after themselves as we speak."
But it wasn't when Damian fell into a fitful sleep, clearly struggling with whatever was ravaging his body—hot and cold and skin red and tender—that Charlotte felt she had to do something. Anything.
Damian looked tired and ill, and he slept clutching onto Charlotte's hand. His palms were scorching, and pain was evident in his expression even as he slept. Charlotte held onto Damian's hand leaned forward to it, taking a deep breath.
I can't watch this anymore. Charlotte got up and stormed out the door.
"Charlotte!" said Diana, spotting her in the corridor, putting on a jacket and heading to one of the windows on the second floor. "Hey, you're not going out there, are you?"
"I have to go get him medication!" said Charlotte.
"The twins had already gone out to try and get some food from the South and Main. If you just wait a while, they'll get to the clinic! Charlotte, you can't go out there."
"I'll be fine," Charlotte snapped back.
"How are you even going to get in there?" Diana demanded.
"Twins gave me the key."
"I'm going with you."
"No, I said!" Charlotte turned to her. "Look, you've got to take care of the others in the house and Damian. I'll be back. I'm not that delicate." And with that, she opened the window and jumped out. Her boots landed with a soft thump onto the snow. It was positively frigid. And Charlotte, squinting through the wind, pulled down the earflaps of her hat a bit closer as she trudged towards the direction the clinic.
There was no longer much snow falling, but the wind was so strong that it was blowing all the flakes into her face, stinging. Each step she took sank her boots into the snow, and her feet were starting to get cold. She clutched her coat closed and moved as fast as she could across grounds.
"Charlotte!"
She stopped. From the direction of Adams, she saw Darren, running to her. He was wearing a thick fur coat and heavy duty snowboots. She tensed now, not for the cold, but at the sight of him after what happened last time.
"Charlotte, what are you doing out here?" Darren cried over the wind. "Get back inside!"
"I have to get to the clinic!" Charlotte shot back. "Damian's sick! He needs medication and we don't have any in the house!"
Darren looked at her for a moment, then said, "Come on! Come with me!"
"Where?"
"To Adams! It's closer! Clinic wing's on the other side of campus, near Washington! I'll just give you some of our supplies!"
Charlotte was surprised, but didn't have any choice anymore. She nodded and followed Darren to Adams. As she did, she called, "What happened to your eye?"
Darren didn't miss a beat. "It got hit by a fist! Nothing unusual!"
Charlotte stared at him, wondering why he would have gotten into a fight in the first palace. Darren helped her up the way to Adams, and stopped her at their entrance. "Stay here," he said. "They'll all get mad if they see you in there. I'll get the food and supplies." He ducked back into the house without letting Charlotte get and word in edgewise.
She shifted uneasily at all this. She had slapped Darren back at competition, but here he was helping her. And he didn't even care that it was all for Damian either. Maybe Charlotte had acted too hastily? Had she been out of line when she slapped Darren? She couldn't be sure.
When Darren came out, he had a large package of medicine and some food. He gave it to Charlotte, who looked up at him. "Why are you doing this?"
Darren gave her an odd look as though wondering why she had to ask. "I'm the Adams House Prefect. I'm supposed to be helping you."
On the way back, Darren had brought out another coat, and they both used it as a shield to push through the snow and the wind. It was a long, cold walk, and not even standing near Darren could alleviate it.
By the time they got back to Jefferson, Charlotte's teeth were chattering. Darren made sure that Charlotte was able to get up to the window safely, boosting her up with his height. As Charlotte climbed back into the house, she turned back to Darren, who just nodded to her, standing there longer than absolutely necessary, and left to make the trek all the way back to Adams.
Charlotte felt that guilty twinge again. Darren had helped her with no prompting, without a word. She didn't know what to make of it. She took off her sopping boots and her cold, wet things before picking up the brown package and heading into Damian's room. The twins were there, checking his temperature. "Hey," said Lucas with a small smile. "We got the food and…medication…" he saw the package in Charlotte's hand. "Where did you get those?"
"From…Darren," Charlotte answered truthfully. "I tried to go to the clinic wing, but he saw me…gave me this instead."
The twins looked at each other, but said nothing. They just nodded. "Damian's been talking in his sleep," said Logan. "He's looking for you, Charlotte."
They didn't imply anything with their tone either. They simply left. Charlotte sat down next to the bed again and checked Damian's temperature. It was a little lower than before. With a deep sigh, Charlotte got the medicine ready and took Damian's hand. She hoped he would get better.
-8-
Damian stirred. When he looked up, he saw Charlotte asleep on the edge of the bed, holding his hand. He smiled. On the dresser table was a small medicine cup with some tablets, and the cup itself was labeled with a post-it: Drink Me!
Damian smiled at that, and dutifully took his medication. He held onto Charlotte's hand and watched her continue to sleep, her serene face never once implying what she dreamed of, or if she was dreaming at all. He wished he knew who Charlotte dreams of.
Gently, he leaned forward and kissed Charlotte's frozen fingertips, breathing gently onto them to warm and thaw them. He smiled down at her.
He was starting to feel better already.
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Post by barbt on Jun 20, 2014 8:52:09 GMT -5
AWWWWWWW :-)
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Hawthorne
Jun 20, 2014 16:32:44 GMT -5
via mobile
Post by HburgEagle44 on Jun 20, 2014 16:32:44 GMT -5
Well isn't that just adorable.
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Post by tonilous on Jun 28, 2014 13:18:56 GMT -5
Hawthorne Questions
I'm Charlotte and this is Hawthorne Academy.
Things went almost back to normal after competition and the storm.
With competition over, it's time to focus on the Winter Fest.
...or at least, that had been my plan.
Charlotte came storming out of Murdoch's classroom looking so livid that all the students in the hall immediately cleared her path as she came past. Charlotte was gripping her term paper like she was going to hurl it on the next human being she comes across with. After two days of being locked in by snow, Hawthorne finally had some semblance of life again, but this was apparently what was to greet Charlotte when she returned to class.
"Under researched"? "Uneducated discussion"? "Shallow observations"? she thought furiously, striding down the halls looking for blood. I spent nearly an entire week diving back and forth into the library stacks and analyzing his three-inch-thick required reading—for one paper! What is wrong with that man? And why in this green earth is the football coach also teaching Literature?
It was the longest, most heavily detailed term paper she'd ever written for anyone and even the Jefferson students were appalled at the size of it. "We'd never had that before," Diana had said, stunned when she saw the printout earlier. "He gave you all that so you could "catch up"?"
Charlotte had experienced a demanding teacher before, but the cheer coach back at Huntington was psychotic and she demanded perfect formations and dance moves. And she, to some degree, exhibited levels of fairness. But when Charlotte received that paper back and saw her plunging marks, she confronted the hulk behind the teacher's table after class.
"I don't understand," she had said, frowning. "I thoroughly read the studies, Professor Murdoch and all of my credible sources have been cited—"
"I think I'll be the judge of that, Ms. Summers," the professor glowered down at her. The Adams House Head looked gigantic—a man wreathed with a strong bulk that reminded Charlotte strongly of the muscle-bound jocks at Huntington, except a fully-developed version. "You clearly didn't make use of any of the studies that have been specifically outlined in the curriculum for the semester—"
"Because I knew they would be what all the others will be using," Charlotte shot back. "It would make no sense for me to parrot what all the others did for class so I took another angle using another theory—"
"Which as I said clearly," and Murdoch pointed to the great scarlet streak of ink on Charlotte's paper, "was completely inappropriate for the topic under discussion."
"What?" Charlotte could believe what she was hearing. "Professor Murdoch, I found over a dozen references in the Hawthorne Library that applies that theory to—"
"This conversation is going in circles, Summers," Murdoch boomed down at her. Charlotte didn't flinch. "As I stated, your main sources should have been only the ones in the studies as they are the most apt for the discussion."
"With all due respect, sir," Charlotte snarled through gritted teeth, "I think you're biased. Because all those sources come from texts that you wrote."
Murdoch's expression turned dark—so dark that the students passing outside had to stop and stare as the giant advanced on Charlotte's slim form. "You are getting out of line with that mouth of yours, Ms. Summers You are no longer in some backwater Massachusetts public school. You're in Hawthorne Academy now, and you are going to act in the manner befitting an educated young woman—or do they not teach you that where you come from?"
Charlotte flushed with rage, hardly able to speak. "So this is all about where I'm from?"
"The only thing we discriminate about here in Hawthorne is excellence in all aspects," Murdoch snapped. "Your paper, behavior and wardrobe—if your attire last week during the meet was any indication—has none. Now leave this room immediately before I mete out detention, or call your parents."
Thereupon, Charlotte grabbed her paper furiously and stormed out, wanting desperately to harm something, and she had to leave or it would have been that hypocrite in the classroom. She had never been so angry in her life—she had never even gotten lower than a B+ in her studies. Even if she had trouble in her first week, with the help of the Jefferson students, she managed to keep up a good grade—until now.
Damian entered from an adjoining corridor and saw the other students fleeing Charlotte's expression. He walked to her and quickly moved to stop her. "Whoa, Charlotte—what's wrong? What happened?"
Charlotte held up her crumpled term paper and pointed to the great red streaks with conviction. Damian nodded slowly, understanding the situation, "Oh…Murdoch."
"And what are you doing up?" Charlotte demanded suddenly. "You had a high fever just the day before yesterday!"
"I can't stay in that bed another day," Damian almost complained, tugging on his collar. He still looked a bit pale. "And I can't miss any more Pipers' meetings for the Winter Fest."
"If you get a relapse, you're not going to Winter Fest!" Charlotte retorted. "Is that so hard to understand?"
"All right! All right—just—just calm down," Damian said firmly. "I'm on your side, remember?"
Charlotte groaned and fell back down onto one of the seats in the hall. "I know, I'm sorry—it's just that it's so—" she completed the sentence with a frustrated sound with her hands suggesting strangling something.
Damian smiled, sitting next to her. "I know the feeling. Happens a lot more often than you'd think. Did you know he once wouldn't accept a term paper from Diana saying that it was apparently "too advanced" for someone of her year level?"
"He what?" Diana had the one of the highest GPAs in Jefferson—and took pains to keep it that way in spite of the madness indoors.
"Yeah, he accused her to taking it from the paper of one of the graduates. Diana went ballistic. You know how tense she can get sometimes."
"What did you do?"
"Well after Diana couldn't talk to him, she told Burkhart. There was apparently a heated debate, and Burkhart got Murdoch to raise the grade, but it only landed as a B—Diana's first in three semesters."
"Did he ever do anything to you?"
"There's a reason I left the football team," Damian smiled wanly in response. Charlotte shook her head in disgust, "So much for no bullying."
"You think?" Damian sighed. "Only with Murdoch, it's apparently not bullying when he's "setting a standard of excellence". Or that's what he says." He saw Charlotte's frown at her term paper again and nudged her. "I can talk to Burkhart for you."
"No, I'll talk to Burkhart," said Charlotte, shaking her head. "You need to get back to bed."
"I'm fine—!"
"You are not. I'm the one with the bone to pick with him." She paused and frowned again. "And besides, he insulted mine and Grace's taste in clothing."
Damian burst out laughing. "Yeah, I don't think he likes the flamboyant." He patted Charlotte's knee, resisting every urge to pull her close, and smiled. "I'll see you back in the dorm, okay?"
"Okay." Charlotte nodded, watching him go. She sighed as Damian disappeared and got up, looking down at her paper. She placed it into her satchel and went off to the direction of the professors' lounge. As she crossed the halls, she passed by the Pipers' home base, the door of which had been left wide open.
"Charlotte—get in here!" said an imperious voice from the room, making her jump. Charlotte blinked and went in. "Mr. Pentland?"
Will was looking at a sheaf of sheet music, which he hadn't looked up from even when he called her. Charlotte walked up to him, confused. "Is there anything wrong?" Is there any more bad news for the morning?
"I heard about Damian, Ms. Nelson told me. How is he?"
"He can clearly walk around now—I just saw him in the halls. But I told him to go back to the dorm."
"He's not well yet?"
"I don't think he's fully recovered."
"Will he recover in time for the Fest?"
Charlotte hesitated. Damian had been practicing hard and had been all but completely set for the (now) Winter Music Fest, until he had gotten ill. She knew why Will was asking—it was because if Damian wasn't fit enough to perform, he would have to get the second soloist. And the second soloist last time had been Darren.
"I…" Charlotte considered, "I think he might be able to pull it off but…I'm not sure if he'll be fully recovered when he does. But of course, I think he'd rather choke and die than just give it up without a fight."
"Well, I don't want him to get worse either," Will commented, glancing at her. He smiled a little at Charlotte's hesitation. "Don't worry, Charlotte. I'm not putting Damian out of the running until I see that he really can't, or shouldn't, be doing it."
"Right," Charlotte smiled, nodding in relief. "You, um, want me to tell him?"
"No, actually—I wanted to tell you something. For the Fall—ah, that is, Winter performance," he grimaced at the snow, no doubt remembering the terribly eternal day he had to spend indoors trying to civil to his irritable colleagues, "For that performance, we need two leads." He gave Charlotte a steady look. "Now, I'm not offering you the part…but I was hoping to see you duel for it."
Charlotte stared in amazement. "I—of course! Of course, I'd love to audition for it! The second lead, I mean."
"Well, who knows," Will looked tired. "If Damian doesn't make it and you beat Darren, you just might squeak by and get the first lead."
"Like Damian wouldn't have a complete meltdown before he left it to Darren…" Charlotte muttered, then stopped and looked up. "Wait. You mean Darren's dueling him again?"
"He said he wanted to," said Will, nodding as he sat at the piano. "He looks like he wants to retake his old spot. I don't know what it is, but something's lit a fire under him."
Charlotte fidgeted. Then Will said, "Now, I'll need to confirm you for the application. You better get ready, because I'll close applications by the meeting later—and then I'll announce if you will have to go through preliminary assessment with me and Ms. Gregor, or if you'll duel immediately."
"Right…right," Charlotte was already distracted. She was mentally running through her entire, highly extensive repertoire. What should she sing that will win the Pipers over for a duel? Or for that matter, what couldn't she sing…?
At that moment, a thought came to her. She stopped and looked up. "Wait…um…is there anyone I am dueling with yet?"
"For second soloist?" Will checked the sheets. "Well, if no one else comes forward… you're dueling Grace Van Kamp."
-8-
"I'm so dead, oh my freaking last season Givenchy, I'm so dead."
"Grace!" Charlotte scolded as her friend continued to pace her white carpeted floor later that day. "Calm down."
"There's no calming down!" Grace shot back as she flailed, the exaggerated sleeve of her Alexander McQueen top flipping. "I'm dueling you! I don't have anything that'll beat you!"
"Why are you telling me this, I'm your competition…?" Charlotte raised an eyebrow as she watched her pace.
"You're also my friend? Quite frankly I'd rather be honest than have a meltdown on my own when I realize that oh Prada I'm so dead!" she sank into her bed, head in her hands. She choked out, "Besides, you told me you're dueling me, might as well be honest right back, right? I mean you could've let me flounder right there instead of giving me a heads up."
"I didn't even know I was dueling you until I accepted," Charlotte said, getting up and climbing onto the bed next to her. "I don't get what you're so freaked out about."
"Well I do!" Grace snapped, hugging her pillow and tearing threads off it. "Have you heard yourself sing?"
"Yes, many many times and I'm aware of the magnitude of my talent."
"That's my point…" Grace groaned, flopping down onto the bed facedown. "…I've never even tried to duel for second soloist before. I figured I'd just put my name down because I just thought that there was just going to be only one main—and that's what Damian and Darren'll be fighting for—and that I wouldn't even ever actually have to duel. How was I supposed to know that there were two leads and that I signed myself for the second one?"
"Grace," said Charlotte disapprovingly, glowering down at her. "You're a Piper for heavenssakes. You can't be all that bad. Stop being so dramatic!" She tore away the pillow from Grace's clutches. "Get up! Right now! Sing me something."
"Over my dead well-dressed body, Charlotte Summers! I'm not going to sing for you now!"
"Oh yes you will…" Charlotte grabbed her wrists—she was taller and stronger—and pulled the other girl up to her feet. "Up! Get up, stand over there and sing me something. Now, Grace, I'm telling you, we don't have all day—Project Runway is coming on in half an hour."
Bright scarlet,Grace fidgeted from where she stood in front of her. Charlotte gave her a raised eyebrow in response. "Well?"
"Just so you know, I've never sung solo before," Grace warned.
"Grace!"
"All right!" she sighed. "Teddy Geiger fine with you…?"
Charlotte just blinked slowly, deadpan, in response. Grace sighed and slowly began to sing. At first, she was singing so softly that Charlotte could barely hear it. She gestured for her to be louder.
Grace raised her voice, tentative at first, then picking up some confidence slowly.
Wandering the streets, in a world underneath it all
Nothing seems to be, nothing tastes as sweet
As what I can't have…
Like you and the way that you're twisting your hair 'round your finger…
Tonight I'm not afraid to tell you…what I feel about you…
Charlotte's eyebrows went up again, blinking. Grace wasn't in her pitch range, that was certain…but she wasn't bad. She wasn't bad at all. There was a color to her voice and an emotion that went out. And when Grace finally started getting comfortable, just getting into the song…
I'm gonna muster every ounce of confidence I have
and cannon ball into the water…
I'm gonna muster every ounce of confidence I have
For you I will…
For you I will…
Charlotte stared, blinking. Grace may or may not have forgotten she was in the room by now. She was just really getting into it, and now that she was—she could really really sing. Like Darren and Damian, Grace turned the song into something wholly her own.
If I could dim the lights in the mall and create a mood I would
Shout out your name so it echos in every room, I would
That's what I'd do, that's what I'd do
that's what I'd do to get through to you
You always want what you can't have
But I've got to try
I'm gonna muster every ounce of confidence I have
For you I will
For you I will…
When she finally stopped, she looked a little out of breath and flushed, disoriented. She seemed to come to after a bit and looked at Charlotte. "Oh… right, so…"
"What do you mean 'oh right'?" Charlotte demanded, sitting up. "Why have you never sung like this before?"
"Oh…was it—was it that bad?"
"Are you crazy—no! You were great! You were more than great—you could become a soloist if you wanted!" Charlotte got up and went to her. "Why haven't you ever tried before?"
Grace shrugged dejectedly, sitting down. "I don't know. Never really had anyone listen to me before."
"What do you mean?"
Grace shrugged again, picking at her coverlet. "…I don't know. I mean… You know my mom, right?"
"Who in their right mind doesn't…?"
"Exactly, well she…she doesn't really think I'd be any good at it." She fidgeted. "I mean she's heard me, of course, but she thought it wasn't that big of a deal. And coming from her, well…that's kind of a high standard. She doesn't know I'm a Piper either."
Charlotte had heard of celebrities throwing their children into showbiz, regardless of whether they had talent or not, but she had never heard of one that actually didn't want a talented child to perform. She sat next to Grace, concern written on her face. "…your mother doesn't want you to sing…?"
"Yeah… she wants me to take over her empire or be a designer or a photographer or…something related to what she does. That's fine by me but…I like singing. And painting. But right now singing is more relevant."
"You sing, you paint, you have the most amazing taste in clothes—is there anything you can't do?" Charlotte smiled.
"Apparently, I can't walk down a newly mopped hallway without breaking limbs," Grace grinned.
"There's that," Charlotte conceded. She put an arm around Grace. "Well, I thought you were great. And coming from me, of course, you can be pretty sure that it's a compliment."
Grace laughed, leaning against her. "Thanks, Charlotte. But don't you dare start pitying me now—you better duel me up there. If you're going to kill me, you better kill me well. Or I am never going to give you anything from the Marc Jacobs winter collection."
"Please, Grace," Charlotte smirked in an endearingly sassy way. "Now that I know how good you are, I'm going to unleash every ounce of talent I've got to completely destroy you."
"Fantastic. Now come help me pick a nice outfit for my burial."
"Glad to."
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