|
Post by tonilous on Jul 2, 2014 1:43:33 GMT -5
Hawthorne 3...2...1...
"Everything's okay? Seriously?"
Darren laughed into the cellphone, looking out into the view beyond the glass. "Yes—wow you're really turning into a mother hen, it's scaring me."
"Hey, I'm just saying…" Derek answered from where he was back in Massachusetts. "I heard the Brightmans were having a party. I figured you'd get worked up."
"There's nothing to get worked up about…" Darren said absently. He raised his hand to eye level. He was turning a memory card carefully in his fingers. "Everything's fine. I've been medicated. I'm so numb that I could be CIPA patient."
"Huh…Well, then…I guess I'll have to take your word for it."
"Why are you in Northampton anyway? I figured when the Twins used the word "supermodels" in the broadcast, you'd be on the first plane out."
"Dude, if the rowing team does not kick some butt next year, I'm going to have to make them row with their hands."
"Whatever, Leonidas. It's still classified as torture to have anyone do anything school related on the holidays."
"So says the guy who had the Pipers work all Spring Break last year."
Darren smirked. "I have to go. Get ready for the party."
"Whoa—wait. You're going? You didn't tell me you were going!"
"I thought that was implied already."
"Quote, Nah-I-don't-think-I'm-in-the-mood-to-get-sniped-at-all-tonight unquote."
"I changed my mind. Besides…Charlotte's going to be there."
The groan from the other end sounded like distilled exasperation.
"Relax, mother. I've got it under control. Go plan the slaughter of the team through practice."
"Bancroft is going to that party. He's keeping an eye on you, I'm warning you!"
"Bring it on… Felix's cool. Goodbye now, Derek."
"Whatever."
Darren hung up and pocketed the phone. He looked at the memory card with a smile almost affectionate. He tossed it into the air, the same way one would toss a coin. He caught it smoothly and walked off towards his closet, passing his upturned table, with the broken coffee cup on the floor, the smashed laptop screen, and the pill container with its white contents spilling all over the carpeted floor.
I'm Charlotte. I recently transferred to Hawthorne Academy.
New Year's Eve.
I got to sing at Radio City Music Hall, I got to shop at Bergdorf-Goodman, I got to attend an art Gala, I got to tour the city, and tonight, I attend the wildest school-tradition party in the Upper East Side.
I feel like a star and I'm sure Austin's ready to kill me when I get back to Huntington.
All I've got left to do is wait for the ball to drop.
And me hoping that the New Year comes with a kiss.
The video stopped.
All the Pipers in Damian's room leaned back from the laptop, exhaling, not quite knowing what to say.
"Wow, they are good," Damian finally said.
"I told you," Charlotte muttered, texting Natasha on her phone.
"So on a scale of one to ten," Noel began, mouth full of popcorn, "How screwed do you think the Pipers are?"
"Come on…" Patrick rolled his eyes. "Maybe they were good. But that's their style, and we have ours. Maybe we just need to be a little less uptight—but everyone has their own approach."
"Yeah…" Diana crossed her arms. "Besides—they're not who I'm worried about. It's Huntington and Westhampton that we'll be coming up against on Sectionals. We should focus on them."
"And you've seen Westhampton…" Grace fidgeted, picking on a stray thread in her jacket. "They're also really good."
"But they're so heartless," Patrick rolled his eyes.
Charlotte finally looked up, wondering why there was sufficiently less crazy in the room than there was supposed to be. "Where are the Tweedles?" Outside the room, everyone was hearing odd sounds from the rest of the condominium, involving a lot of hustle and bustle of decorators, and the occasional evil cackling of identical voices.
"You don't want to know," Damian shook his head.
Noel, who had looked out the door, exclaimed, "Holy crap, is that a ball swim?" As he said this, there was the sound of wild riffs coming from what had to be a RockBand setup and the sound of someone testing a silly string can.
Shane, who'd also come to see, gasped. "Chocolate waterfall!"
"Get back into the room!" the twins yelled as what had to be jell-o slammed them both in the face. This was followed by an unceasing hailstorm of marshmallows.
Charlotte dropped her face into her hand. Whatever was going to happen tonight was going to be ridiculous as it was shaping up to be the biggest kiddie party on the street. The Tweedles had woken everyone early and ushered them into their rooms, commanding them not to actually come out for a while as they would be setting up the party. After dozens of decorators and delivery men arrived bearing all sorts of food and furnishing and what had to be more laser lights than Las Vegas had, they were glad to.
As Shane wiped himself down, ducking the mallows, Noel calmly turned to the room, jell-o dripping from his face. "Diana," he said in an unbelievably composed tone. "Might you hand me that thing next to you?"
Diana turned to the bedside table. As was customary for every Jefferson who particularly valued sanity, they kept a Nerf gun nearby in case of Tweedle Attack. Damian's was sitting on the bedside table, along with a full round of ammunition.
Sighing, Diana handed it to Noel. "Thank you," Noel said. And then he opened the door and charged into the fray, yelling across the house as he fired. "Bring it on, Tweedles! Say your prayers!"
"This means war!" the Tweedles yelled from somewhere outside.
Diana just shrugged, and her phone started to ring. She took one glance at the number and came to life. "I have to take this." She immediately hurried out the door. While the door opened, they saw a brief glimpse into Pandemonium as the "war" continued.
"What's with Diana?" Charlotte asked, frowning.
"Her boyfriend must've gotten out of surgery…" Patrick said, shaking his head. "She's crazy about him. They've been together for five years. She's been spending all her free time with him while he's in the hospital. She's only here now because he told her to go live an actual life for a change."
Charlotte wanted to ask why he was in surgery, but felt that she'd pried enough into privacy after confronting Grace. So she simply said, "We should send her back to him. She should be there."
"Yeah well…we tried telling her it was all right," Patrick looked worried, staring in the direction Diana went. He sat, fidgeting. "She hasn't really been herself after she heard he was in surgery …I'm actually kind of worried about her."
Damian rolled his eyes and made the, "go on" gesture to him. Patrick needed no second telling—he fled the room with a worried expression. Charlotte smiled to herself and glanced at Damian, who just gave her a, "I don't know either" kind of look.
"Alice!" came Lucas' yell from outside. "Noel's got your magic cookies hostage! Save the cookies, dang it! Save the cookies!"
"—so help me, I'm going to crush each and every single one—!"
"No, you stupid Knight—don't do it, man!" Logan yelled like he was dying. "Think of the others! Alice, help!"
"Oh for the love of—" Charlotte pushed herself out of the chair. "I'm sorry, if I may, I just have to stuff all those cookies down their throats."
"Please go right ahead," Damian said helpfully, smiling.
And Charlotte just smirked at him, squeezed his hand—which she had been holding for a while now—and left. Shane turned to his brother and smirked. "You two are getting really cozy, aren't you?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Damian grumbled.
"You were very cute onstage," Grace quipped with a grin.
"Hm…" Damian just smiled to himself. "That was her idea."
"Well at least we know she likes you," Shane said smugly, leaning back onto his chair. "Darren doesn't have a chance even if he's coming to the party."
"That still worries me, Damian…" Grace remarked.
The Jefferson prefect looked contemplative. He shook his head a little. "Charlotte said Darren was actually himself for a bit. He's been taking his medication. I suppose even if he does come along, he won't be doing anything. Be more like himself."
"What is himself?" Shane asked. "Before or after he was messing with you, Damian?"
Damian glanced at his brother. "What's the matter with you?"
"I thought you were going to be okay," Shane mumbled. "Then I hear that he's back. I saw him during that big fallout with his dad—he's clearly still out of it. Even you don't trust him."
"I don't," Damian answered calmly. "I don't trust him either. But I trust Charlotte. And I'm willing to at least avoid him tonight."
Shane huffed and leaned back onto the chair. "Well, fine. I just hope he knows how to take a hint after all this time. If that video doesn't tell him that he's got no chance—"
"What video?" Damian asked.
Shane blinked and glanced up at him. "That…video I took of you and Charlotte singing onstage at Radio City Music Hall." He smirked a little. "I put a copy into his coat pocket when Charlotte and I met him yesterday. If that doesn't tell him to back off—"
Damian's eyes widened fully as he leapt to his feet.
"What?" Patrick exploded from the door, Diana next to him, having heard what was just said. "You gave him—Shane, what is the matter with you, man?" he grabbed Shane by the front of his sweater. "That's not going to make him back off, that's going to make him furious!"
Shane's smile was gone the moment Damian got up. He turned white, staring at Patrick. "What? But he—"
"He didn't need to see that!" Diana exploded. "Didn't you see how worked up he can get over things? And after he told Charlotte that he loves her—"
"He said what?" Damian demanded, grabbing at Patrick.
"Backstage—before you performed—Darren dropped Charlotte the bomb," Patrick quickly told him. Diana was nervously running her hand through her hair. "Charlotte didn't get the chance to answer—"
"Was that why Charlotte went after him in the Park? To answer him?" Damian asked, turning white, mind racing. If Darren confessed and Charlotte still behaved the way she did, did it mean that she—
"No!" Shane exclaimed, leaping up. "I was there—I heard them, Charlotte didn't—"
"No no, you have done enough." Diana pushed Shane down onto the chair. "I bet Darren's freaking out right now. What went in your head, Shane?"
Shane looked confused and flustered. "I—I was just…" He looked at Damian desperately. "I thought he wouldn't flip out if he was medicated—I was just trying to help!"
"A fat lot that did," Patrick snapped.
"All right, enough!" Damian said, now looking angry for the first time. "Just cut it out, we don't need this. Seriously, this is getting ridiculous!" He looked at Patrick and Diana. "Darren is my problem. I'll deal with him if he tries anything. Closure's been too long in coming anyway and it's about time I told him off. What can he do anyway? Just…leave Shane alone, he didn't know what he was doing."
Shane buried his head in his hands, leaning over his knees. Damian turned to his brother, looking as though he wanted to shake him, but as he gestured with his hands he just ended up putting them heavily onto his shoulders. Shane looked up, scared and white in the face. "Damian—I'm sorry! I just—I wanted him to let you be happy!"
"Just—!" Damian stopped and took a breath. He patted him heavily once. "Just…don't do this anymore, all right, Shane…?" He sighed and got up. He pushed past Patrick and Diana and out the door. The two took one last look at Shane, who was staring after his brother, and left as well.
Shane watched them go and then leaned over on his knees again, cursing.
Silence in the room. Outside, the muffled sound of mayhem continued.
Carefully, a form knelt in front of Shane, putting his hands on his clasped ones. "Shane…"
The other boy looked up to see Grace looking at him. Shane just ducked his head. "…please don't look at me like that, Grace… You don't have to stay here, you can go with them."
"I don't want to," she said plainly. She patted his hands. "Calm down, all right?"
"I can't…" Shane whispered. "I'm always…I'm always screwing it up for him! Damian…Damian always takes the bullet for me. He's always the responsible one." He blinked away the mist in his eyes. "You know that if I didn't…if I didn't get so careless about my first girlfriend, Damian wouldn't have lied to dad to cover for me?"
He leaned back onto the couch again, staring at the ceiling. "I watched him take the heat from the bullies that I couldn't help him with…just stood there and took it, too. I got mostly second-hand but Damian snagged every foot in the aisle to send him tripping into his lunch tray…"
Shane shook his head. "And after he moved to Hawthorne, I had to watch while my brother just got brokenhearted. I tried to be there for him, but it's hard from another state. He would keep telling me that Darren was going to get better and he was happy with that girl but as it turns out, he didn't and he wasn't. I thought they were okay, when he just stopped telling me things. All he told me was that the jerk got kicked out for…stuff he did."
He swallowed and added, "That's why when I came here, and then Damian told me that they weren't together anymore and I asked why…" Shane shook his head. "I just lost my mind. All that happened and I wasn't there. In a non-bullying school of all places—how Darren gets away with this crap is beyond me. I just…I just wanted to get back at him and make him leave Damian alone. …I just make things worse."
A pause.
"…I shouldn't have come along," he added.
Finally, Grace took a deep breath and sat next to him on the couch. She jogged his elbow to get his attention. "Maybe Damian did what he did because he had to do it for himself too. Did you ever consider that?" She smiled a bit. "And maybe he didn't tell you because he doesn't expect anything from you. Maybe he just wants you to be happy."
Shane sighed. "I can't be the brother that just keeps taking."
"If you want to do something for him, you have to let him deal with this," Grace said with finality. "Damian told us once that he regrets lots of things. He let himself be chased away from the last school. He's fighting back here, because he likes where he is and where he wants to be. So if you really want to do something for him, you have to let him see this to the end—make up for what happened before."
Shane glanced at her for a long moment, then shook his head. He pulled his hands away from Grace. "I shouldn't have come… I don't help you either."
"What?"
"You think I don't notice…?" Shane smiled a little. "I know that the way I act around you, I make you awkward. I'm sorry. I just…I can't help it." He stared at her for a long moment, until it got odd and they both looked away. "But I guess if I have to learn, I have to start somewhere."
Grace nodded slowly.
"…I'll be out by today, then." He checked his watch. "If I go now, I won't even have to be at the party. Leave you guys alone."
The smaller girl looked up. Shane nodded to himself. "That's the best course, I think." He stood up, and stopped. "Oh." He sat back down. He pulled out something from his pocket and tossed it to Grace. "Super late Christmas gift. Better give it to you now. I wanted to give it to you at the gala, but I got distracted staring at your paintings."
Grace smiled faintly and opened it. She let the wrapper fall to the floor as she unwrapped what looked like a large ring with something embedded in it. She raised it to her eyes. "…what is this?"
"Hold it to the light like this," Shane took her hands and brought the ring's glass to the sunlight at the window. In the floor in front of Grace, where the light shone through, was the projection of a Rembrandt, magnified through the glass in the ring.
At her surprised expression, Shane smiled. "A master's work for a master painter."
Grace stared at it, amazed. Shane smiled at her and released her hands. "Stupid present, but there you have it." He got up and headed to the door. Grace came to and looked up. "Shane!"
"Yeah?" he said, glancing back, hand at the door.
Grace stood still, hands clutching the ring, staring at him. Shane just smiled and turned to leave when Grace, finally blurted out, "Wait!"
Shane stood at the door, a little confused. He looked back at the girl standing in the sunlight, curls lit up. It made him want to smile like an idiot so he just bit his lip and glanced away.
Grace's heart was in pounding in her chest. "…could you…maybe stay for the party?"
That was a surprise. Grace hastily continued, "You started this Darren mess, right? Stay and finish it."
"Is that such a good—"
"It's what Damian would have done."
Shane stared, then sighed. He smiled a little. "…okay."
Grace smiled nervously and nodded. "All right."
Shane nodded to her, smiling a little, and he left the room to go to his own. Grace looked down at the ring in her hands and, now alone, had a spaz attack, flailing to herself before flopping onto the bed with a thump. What in the world are you doing, Grace Van Kamp?
-8-
"Charlotte?"
Charlotte looked up when Damian came into the kitchen. The blonde girl had Lucas by the front of the shirt, holding a cookie bowl away from him, while the other twin was being held down by Noel onto the floor. All of them looked at him, blinking.
Damian tried very hard to overlook the fact that there were cookies, flour, and eggs all over the kitchen, and tried not to mention to Charlotte that her immaculate hair had a streak of that flour and that her cheek had cookie batter. He just smiled. "Can I talk to you outside for a minute?"
They all looked at each other. Charlotte took the cookies and released Lucas, hugging the bowl protectively before going to Damian. She was sure she heard Logan whimper when she took the cookies with him but she ignored them. Damian held the door open, but just when Charlotte was about to step out, she stopped. She turned, tossed three cookies back—a loud squabble ensued—and followed Damian, offering the bowl.
"Thanks," Damian grinned, taking one. Charlotte took one as well, and followed him out past the living room where plastic multicoloured balls were scattered everywhere. They sidestepped the ornamental neon light bridge over the chocolate-rum "pond" connected to the waterfall, and ducked past the sets of swings with rails topped by swirlypops in the hall.
Charlotte marveled at how immunized she was to all of this at this point.
Damian didn't say much—he simply took her hand and led her to the elevator. When the chrome-plated doors closed, he let out his breath and released her. Charlotte glanced at him. "What did you want to talk about?"
For a moment, Damian lightly drummed his fist onto the wall, looking contemplative. Then he said, "…is it true that…Darren told you he loves you?"
Charlotte stopped eating her cookie. She swallowed and glanced up at him. Damian stared back at her, only expectant, with no other decipherable emotion. "…yes," Charlotte finally answered.
Damian let out his breath, licking his dry lips and nodded somberly. "Backstage… before I went on?"
"Yeah. …who told you?"
"Patrick and Diana."
"Oh…"
Damian seemed to deliberate for a moment. At that moment, the bell sounded, and the elevator opened to the ground floor. He nodded to Charlotte to follow him. The two of them walked outside, through the lobby, and into the street, where well-dressed people emerged out of cars and entered buildings with the same sophisticated air as they did.
After a moment, Damian said, "It's…probably none of my business but I just—" He finally just let it go and looked up. "…did you tell him anything? In answer, I mean?"
Charlotte shook her head. "No. Not yet." She sighed. "I tried yesterday." She glanced at him. "And it is your business. He's got history with you. And not a good one. That's kind of what worries me."
"I'm just saying that while I understand that some people will get…attracted to you, he's just—"
"And I'm just saying that I have my own mind of the matter," Charlotte said, arching her eyebrow delicately. "And that mind is…rather made up, as we speak." She glanced away. "Darren is just the way he is. And…I think he's trying. I've seen my share of people who are trying themselves to death, myself included. So he's…" She let it trail off and shrugged.
Damian stared at her, a little surprised, and he lowered his gaze. "…right." He nodded a little. "Of course you would. You're kind of headstrong. You have every right to make up your own mind."
"Right…" Charlotte nodded slowly. She glanced at him. "So…"
"No, I was just…wondering," Damian waved it away absently, feeling rather crushed. Commiserating in his head had seldom been this bad. "Not a big deal."
"Damian, anyone ever tell you that your face is so expressive that you could retell Don Quixote with your facial expressions?" Charlotte raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
Charlotte glowered at him. "It's a big deal." She flailed at him. "Your face tells me so." She walked up to him. "Look, do you want me to hate him that much?"
Damian stared at her, surprised. "No, I mean—not hate, just…"
-8-
"They are not singing off the same page out there, are they?" Lucas muttered from where they were peeking at the lobby doors, chewing on cookies. Logan sadly shook his head, taking a piece from the cookie his brother held.
"This is sad, this is just…" Diana shook her head.
"What exactly is the conversation here?" Noel asked, blinking.
"What Charlotte is thinking is Why does Damian want me to hate Darren all that badly just because he's trying to change now?" Lucas said in monotone.
"And what Damian is thinking is She likes him and she was going to confess and I was an idiot for thinking I was really going to be able to get Charlotte to fall in love with me," Logan added in the same tone.
"Or something like that," they both finished.
Patrick swallowed his cookie, looking disgusted. "Wow, these two need to get hit with cinderblocks."
"Lots of cinderblocks," the twins agreed.
"Where are Grace and Shane?" asked Diana.
"Shane's in his room, getting ready to book town. Grace's in her room mumbling entire monologues incoherently to herself while buried under a pillow." Noel blinked. "I think she's possessed. I tried to sprinkle holy water on her, but she just threw a pillow at me and told me to go away. I left a ring of rock salt around her bed just in case, so she doesn't escape."
"You are so lucky we like you, dude…" Patrick sighed.
"Rock salt never hurt anyone innocent!" Noel shot back.
"Would you be quiet now, I'm trying to eavesdrop here," snapped Diana.
"But they're slowly eating all the cookies as they talk," Patrick whined to her.
-8-
At some point, conversation waned and the two were left with an awkward pause that just left both wondering what on earth had gotten into the other's head. Charlotte, who was getting rather annoyed, finally said, "Why are we arguing about that guy so suddenly?"
Damian stared at her. "I don't know, it seems pretty relevant right now considering you and I are…"
"…are…?" Charlotte prompted expectantly.
"He's…" Damian was sure Charlotte couldn't actually be this off from the topic. "…he's kind of between us both, isn't he?"
All the other Hawthorne students now gestured with their hands expectantly, waiting for their Alice to make the connection. Charlotte just gave Damian a rather narrow-eyed look of disbelief.
"He is…?" Charlotte blinked. What the…you really consider him as between us? Because I don't. "How does that happen? The way I see him is completely different from the way I see you."
Though the Jeffersons were all but jumping as it came that close to Charlotte actually confessing right then and there, the prefect just stared. "So you do just like him, then? In spite of everything?" I can't let her do this, I thought we really had something already!
"I don't think he's a saint, but I think he needs to be given room to fix his mess without the rest of us hammering down at him. Is it wrong that I want to give him a chance?"
"This is painful, this is officially painful and I'm going to lock them in the pantry," Patrick was halfway into the revolving door when the others grabbed him back.
"That's fine, then," Damian said, looking at Charlotte's expression and feeling anxious. "I'm all for him not flipping out half the time either. But…I really thought that you…" He stopped.
I really thought that you would pick me.
He let out a long sigh and then put a hand on Charlotte's shoulder. He smiled a bit as he said, "It's nothing. Whatever you decide, it's… it's really your choice to make. And I have to be happy about that."
Charlotte gave him a confused look. "What…?"
"About Darren," Damian said. "If…that's what you really want then…I'm just sorry I got in the way." He turned away and headed back indoors.
"Damian!" Charlotte followed him, now more confused than ever. "You're not in the way!" She grabbed his hand, holding tight. "Whether he's there or not makes no difference!"
Damian stopped, and glanced back to her. He seemed to consider for a moment, then smiled a little bit. "…it does to me." But he held the hand tighter when he saw Charlotte's anxious expression. "Hey. Don't look at me like that." He smiled a bit more and went closer to her. "It's all right."
"Can we not fight before New Year?" Charlotte asked, looking a little irritated, wanting to throw him off even as her heart went pounding away. Her face didn't show it, but she was sure her hands did—they clutched at Damian's with the tremor that could have been seen as cold. "This is ridiculous. I made it to the New Year because of your help—I'd be in a dumpster in Huntington otherwise."
"I suppose…" Damian smiled faintly, still holding her hands, wondering why they were so cold when they, when Charlotte was really getting worked up, were usually warm.
"Yeah…" Charlotte rolled her eyes. "For all we know, he might not even show up anyway."
Oh… Damian only smiled at Charlotte. …I really think he'll show. After he sees that…he'll show. And then…game over.
-8-
"I am this close to throwing an actual cinderblock at them," Patrick muttered from the doors. "And it won't take me long to find one."
"They're holding hands, it's a good sign," Diana pointed out.
"Yeah, but they've been holding hands since they first met…" Noel grimaced, feeling more like the reluctant "fairy godparent" than anyone else. He wondered sometimes why he let himself dragged into these things. "Some progress would be nice."
"Didn't he kiss her under the mistletoe, though?" Lucas supplied.
At that, the others looked down at him, staring in shock. "When was this?"
"Before winter break, at school, Damian's room, doorway," grinned Logan, sighing like a mother. "It was the cutest, sweetest, snuggly-wugglyest grossness you ever saw in Jefferson."
"We needed to see a dentist after," Lucas added with a smug smile. "It was that sweet."
The others weren't sure on whether to look happy or completely grossed out, so Patrick settled for a frown and said, "Why can't we go back to that…?" He flailed to the two outside. "Before Darren puts the moves on?"
"That's up to them," Lucas said. "Unfortunately."
"Well we'll never get anywhere," Diana looked contemplative. She suddenly looked up. "Crap. They're coming inside. Quick! Elevator!"
The foursome immediately ran to the sole elevator that led to the condominium, running around the bend just as Damian and Charlotte re-entered the building. The four of them nearly crashed into each other to swipe their thumbs at the pad—the twins had put in all their fingerprints so they could come and go as they please—before the elevator doors hissed open and they ran in.
The door hissed shut just as Charlotte and Damian came around to the elevator.
Charlotte had yet to release Damian's hand, and she decided that while she had this moment, she had to ask. "…Damian. About…that time you kissed me under the mistletoe."
The other boy stopped and turned to her. For a moment Damian looked awkward, but then he said, "What about it?"
Charlotte walked up to him directly, throwing caution to the wind. "Did you kiss me because I was under some mistletoe or…" She swallowed and trained her eyes directly into his.
Damian took all of two seconds to prepare a response. He pulled the hand he held, bringing Charlotte just one bit closer. When he looked at Charlotte's lips, he didn't even try to hide it anymore. He held her there carefully, waiting for any sign of her pulling away, but received none. After a full seven seconds, Charlotte turned red and lowered her gaze. That allowed Damian to think a little more clearly. But he smiled slightly and released her. "…does that answer your question?" he asked gently.
"Very much, yes…" Charlotte breathed automatically, turning her eyes to the wall and feeling relieved as sanity returned. That…was so bad for the heart right there.
Damian just smiled to himself. And because Charlotte had been so forward herself, he decided to reciprocate, as the elevator slowly returned and announced its presence. He glanced to Charlotte and said, "…maybe it would be safer if you stood by me during that party."
Charlotte raised her eyebrows at this. Damian just shrugged lightly with a smile and added, "You don't want to be in the middle of a crowd of strangers when the lights go out."
The elevator doors opened and the two walked inside as Charlotte shrugged as well, hiding a smile in the corner of her lips. "…sounds all right."
What followed was the most unbelievably tense elevator ride upwards to the condo, but for some silly reason, the both of them were smiling.
|
|
|
Post by tonilous on Jul 2, 2014 3:28:22 GMT -5
The force of the music that came from the condominium was at a level when each bass pulse felt like a wall slamming into the skin. The prismatic lights in the room could downright blind a body, and this was after the lasers that leapt from wall to wall, traversing the expanse of the bodies in the massive condominium, each and every one having been forewarned to wear their best "childlike" outfit to fit the theme.
As a result, the Playground-Willy-Wonka-factory madness that the Twins had created was crammed wall-to-wall with gorgeous "kids". As Pipers and Hawthorne students descended into the condominium by way of a special invitation—flashing their house badges at the bouncers by the elevator—so did their dates.
Charlotte had never seen so many beautiful people in her life. The girls were over five feet seven inches at least, and they were dressed up in knee socks, lacy dresses in petticoats, curly pigtails, or even shirts, shorts and suspenders—all of them a fleet of endless legs. Some of the Hawthorne boys—after a semester of a predominantly testosterone environment—were extremely happy at the surroundings.
"Oh thank the stars…" Patrick sighed as he sank into one of the gargantuan, microbead-filled pillow chairs that was made to look like a giant jellybean. He leaned over, taking a champagne-glassful of the spiked chocolate mixture that flowed in a river through the room. "After Tabitha ran off with Derek I was positively deprived."
"You are currently surrounded by a hundred gorgeous girls…and you're thinking of the Banshees' personification, Tabitha," Diana nodded slowly as though trying to make sense of it. "Okay…"
"And half the time, you're messing with Damian and Charlotte…" smirked Lucas, who was drinking a bright green cocktail that turned red at the bottom, his immaculate clothes already mussed with the dancing on the floor. Logan grinned, drinking the same type of cocktail as he said, "So yeah, basically, all you've got are us guys."
"I'm too invested with those two at this point," Patrick complained. "If they'd only make an effort…"
"Their problem is that they like each other way too much," Grace said, shaking her head as she sipped her apple juice—it was the only thing she trusted herself to be drinking in this party. "They're most afraid of going too far and then ruining things. They don't think they can afford to ruin what they have and take a chance."
"Well it's a new year…" sighed Lucas, looking to the TV screen, watching Times Square continue to go crazy. The clock was ticking. "At least, it will be in an hour," Logan nodded.
"Already?" Grace asked, startled.
The music started getting even louder. Candy confetti was falling down from the ceiling as the cannons blasted with each five-minute mark. The two men manning the DJ booth looked disturbingly like the pair from Daft Punk. The massive widescreen that ran down one side of the hall flickered and changed displays. An air raid siren carried through the room, making everyone look up as a computerized voice said, "One hour until the New Year."
The place exploded into excited cheering and chatter. The music swelled, filling the room with pop music. Some of the guests started going to for the malted milk ball-shooting guns (the amount of candy arsenal in the room was appalling) and pelting each other.
It was at this point that after one particularly excellent volley from the guns and a few snippets of drunken singing from some Pipers, the elevator doors hissed open and admitted Darren Wright into the party. With the crowd so thick, the music so loud, that the Jeffersons didn't notice at once, and they didn't hear the other Hawthorne students greeting him as he came in.
The lights flashed through the condominium and Darren walked in, smirking to himself as he looked around. Some of the girls cast appreciative looks at him as he came in, but though he smiled at them, he was not interested. His head hadn't been this clear in days. He knew what he wanted.
Darren spotted Damian—he was with his brother, talking to him by one of the doorways that led to other rooms. He came close enough to hear what they were saying, but they were so wrapped up that they didn't notice him.
"I saw your bags—" Damian said, loudly, to be heard over the music. "Why did you start packing?"
"I'm leaving right after the party!" Shane said loudly back. He smiled faintly at his brother. "I've done enough damage here. Going to go back to Colorado early and make more problems there instead."
Damian looked concerned and confused. "Shane, if it's about the video—"
"No—no…" Shane held a hand out to him. He clearly had some drinks in him, but not enough to be lost or even considered too drunk. "I'm going. That's it. I'm only here because…well because an angel asked me to." He grinned.
Darren nodded to himself. So his hunch was right—it was Shane who slipped him the video of Damian and Charlotte singing together.
Damian said, "Look, you don't have to go—we might have overreacted—"
"Damo, seriously," said Shane, shaking his head, alcohol releasing some inhibitions. "I can't keep doing this to you, or to Grace… I'm going to go home and be good. Be good and stop being such a freaking mess."
The thought of his brother returning days early to his father wasn't a pleasant thought to Damian. "Look, you made one mistake—"
"One?" Shane started laughing like a maniac, scooping up one of the cocktails as a waiter passed. Damian took the cocktail out of his hands, set it down on a nearby surface and pulled his brother off to presumably a safer room to talk.
Darren watched him go. He moved forward and picked up the cocktail the brothers had left behind, and then proceeded to find his target.
He found his quarry talking with the Washington prefect, dressed in something appropriate to the childlike theme—a black baby doll dress that reached mid-thigh, with a nice pair of black colored heels to match. On top of that, she seemed to be wearing an elegant, red coat. Her hair was done in what looked to be a set of braided, curly pigtails, making her look like the kind of doll that girls loved dressing up.
Charlotte was laughing at something Felix was saying—in relation to how the Adams parade float once burned and smoldered for days on end as a casualty of war between Jefferson and Adams notorious rivalry—and she looked up as Darren arrived with a smile. "Hey!"
Charlotte looked amused. "Hey! You're…not in dress code?"
Darren wore one of the impeccable gray ensembles that owned the Parisian runways this season, and just grinned. "Sure I am!"
"Oh? As what? A political son?"
Darren pretended to be wounded. "Ouch…" he smirked. "No, actually, it should be obvious that I'm the big bad wolf. All gray and all that." He looked at the red coat on Charlotte and grinned. "Little Red Riding hood?"
"Just because you're taller than me…" Charlotte rolled her eyes.
"Hey Felix!" Darren smiled, shaking hands with the other prefect. Felix smiled and raised his glass to him in response.
"You look well," Felix said. "Better than you did before!"
"I kind of do, don't I?" Darren smiled. "I feel great!" He looked down at Charlotte and smiled at her. "Extremely!"
Charlotte was a little surprised. "Well you do look better!" her voice broke just slightly as she tried to talk loudly over the music. Both Felix and Darren laughed. Charlotte turned red and shoved at Felix.
"Here," Darren said, handing her the cocktail with a smile. "Wet your throat. If you lose that voice, the Pipers will get in trouble."
Charlotte eyed the cocktail worriedly. "Uh…no, pass." She shook her head. "I have an extremely bad history with alcohol."
"Oh?" Darren blinked, intrigued.
-8-
"Damian!" yelled Grace, running to him. Behind her, the lights flashed. Countdown came to thirty minutes. She slipped on some of the plastic balls on the ground and flopped onto the carpet. One of the Pipers sitting nearby said, "Grace, are you okay?"
"Fine…" she brushed herself off. Damian reached her, with Shane right behind him, and said, "Whoa, easy Grace. You didn't drink anything, did you?"
"No," Grace answered, shaking her head as she brushed her insanely expensive dress off. But she looked at her with wide eyes. "I heard one of the Adams girls say that Darren's in here already."
"What?" Damian looked around quickly. He couldn't recognize anyone well through the flashing lights, music and all the bodies in the room. The party was going crazy and more people were coming in—and Damian could see that some of them weren't Hawthorne anymore. He had no idea how they got in, but the Twins didn't do something soon, there was going to be some serious damage.
He pushed through the crowd immediately, looking for Charlotte. He had thought that as Darren hadn't shown up for two hours since the party started, he may have changed his mind. Shane took Grace by the hand. "Come on, let's go tell the Twins that their party's going overboard." In his free hand, Shane held his hand-carry for the plane.
Grace spotted it easily as he used it to part the crowd. "You're leaving already?" she asked.
Shane only nodded. "Yeah. After this, I'm gone. But first I've got to get to the Twins, then I'll back Damian up." He glanced back at her. "Then gone." He grinned.
"…are you drunk?" Grace asked suspiciously.
"No, actually—I had a few, but I'm good at holding my liquor—that's why I get the happy job of driving everyone home all the time. And believe me, you will lose count of how much puking can be done in a car."
Grace looked grossed out—and she slipped on one of the malted milk balls on the ground. Shane felt the tug of her falling and immediately reacted, turning pulling her up and spinning her right up against him and catching her free hand, and they ended up looking as though they came out of a Fred Astaire movie.
Grace stared up at him. "…whoa."
Shane looked back at her, a little stunned. "Oh, I…I take up dance in my spare time." He shrugged quickly. Seeing that Grace was right up against him, he released her quickly. "Right. Okay. Sorry. The Twins?"
"Right, the Twins," Grace nodded hastily and the two headed off.
-8-
"Fifteen minutes to the New Year." The room exploded into cheers and explosions of conversation, people moving around, running to each other, preparing to face the new year. The feed on the widescreen revealed the throng in Times Square, watching the ball drop.
Damian turned and found himself face to face with Darren. "Hello, Damo!" said the taller boy, smiling a little. "Interesting party, even though it's getting out of hand." Around him, people continued to dance and party happily in the massive playground the Twins had built. It was just the two of them now, staring.
"So you're here too now?" Damian looked back up at him. As a serious conversation, it was awkward as they had to talk loudly to be heard. They screamed over the din.
"I think you know why I'm here," Darren answered. He seemed unbelievably self-possessed. Or was it simply self-assurance?
"Where's Charlotte?" Damian asked coldly.
"She's with Felix, I haven't done anything to her," Darren said easily. "I haven't even given her any alcohol. Relax!"
"Think you'll understand when I say, no, I think I'll keep my guard up," Damian replied giving him an incredulous look. "That's the only reason you're so focused right now. And Shane told me what he did."
"Ah…" Darren nodded, smiling. "I figured it was Shane who'd drop me a message that big. It was too ballsy a move for anyone in Jefferson to do, actually!"
He was definitely back to his old self. That calm self-assurance was Darren without medication. It was fine as long as he stayed calm. It was only when he was angry that things got dangerous. Damian had the advantage of experience as he treaded through thin ice.
"So now what are you going to do?" Damian calmly gazed up at him. "You can't make her do anything. Even I can't. It's her life and she gets to choose."
"Well that's why I'm here," Darren sighed, looking around. "I came here as myself! Not as a drugged down version, not as a crazed wackjob! Just me! It has to be a fair game or nothing at all!"
"You see that's your problem," Damian shook his head, moving up to him so he could be heard even over the noise. "You think of this as a game! You've always thought this is some kind of game! You did it to…" He shook his head. "This isn't one, Darren. Do you even genuinely care about her? Because if you're just doing this to beat me…"
Darren closed his eyes, shook his head and started to laugh. "Why are we talking about this, in the middle of a crowded room, screaming?"
"Because then we can yell at each other all we want!" Damian answered.
"Then if I'm going to scream it at you, I should—I'm not doing this to beat you! You both are going to be stuck with me! Even if she picks you over me, I'm not going to give this a rest!"
"Good!" Damian retorted. "Because then I'll maybe consider you a changed man. She's trying to get me to believe it, but until I see it, I don't think you should be near—!"
"We'll see about that." Darren suddenly fled.
Damian turned and ran the opposite direction. He had to find Charlotte before the lights went out. Not to kiss her, or to do anything—but just to make sure that whatever anyone did that night, including himself, it was Charlotte who makes the decision.
No one else.
-8-
"Five minutes to the New Year…"
"There!" yelled Patrick, pointing to Damian, who pushed through the crowd to them. "Damian! Over here, man! Come on! Where have you been?"
"Where's Charlotte?" Damian asked breathlessly.
"We haven't seen her," said Grace, looking anxious. "We saw Felix and he said she was with him, and then she left to go find you!"
"Where's Darren?" Diana asked loudly.
"He's here—I saw him and he's still around here somewhere!" Damian looked around. "I have to find Charlotte. It's almost that time."
"You really want to kiss her for New Years, don't you, man?" Noel stared at him. Damian shook his head. "No. I have to make sure she doesn't get forced into one."
The Twins suddenly looked up. "We better move!"
"Why?" asked Grace.
"Because we've set the lights to flicker like crazy at the three minute mark before complete darkness! If we're going to find Alice, we better find her now or we won't find her at all!"
-8-
Darren stood in the middle of the gyrating bodies that danced to the music. The lights were beginning a pre-emptive flicker, slow that would gradually speed up. He looked quickly around for any sign of Charlotte.
And then he spotted a bright flash of red. He smile and raised his voice as he moved through the crowd.
Charlotte looked up as the slim, gray body stood in front of her. In the flashing of the lights, the clothes looked like metal. Like the armor on a knight. Against his great height—he had to be at least as tall as Alex—Charlotte looked up to meet a pair of intense eyes that she recognized from the very first time in the choir room.
Darren leaned close to her and murmured, "Red isn't your color. You look like a painted rose."
Charlotte ducked from such close proximity but said, "Well I think it's kind of nice."
"Blue is more your color," said Darren, smiling.
Charlotte considered a little. "…blue is actually my favorite color. But red is festive and so here it is." Feeling a bit uncomfortable about that stare, Charlotte finally said, "You…you look a little more like your old self, you know?"
"Is that good or bad?" Darren asked, blinking almost innocuously.
Charlotte looked up at him, wondering. "I…honestly don't know."
"Well…maybe I'm finally making some progress," Darren smiled. "And you know…I can honestly say it's because of you."
"What?" Charlotte almost laughed. She shook her head. "No, I think for once, you can have whatever credit you're giving me."
"Seriously," Darren smiled. "…do you remember what I told you backstage…?"
Charlotte hugged her arms, feeling awkward. She swallowed. "Can't forget. …first time a guy ever… A guy ever told me he was in love with me." She gestured anxiously. "Can we not talk about this here? In the middle of the crowd?"
"Crowd's best place to talk…" Darren stepped closer to her. "No one listens."
-8-
At that moment, the lights began to flicker.
"Oh no…" the twins looked up as the lights flickered to a palpitating pace.
"Three minutes to the New Year."
The screaming reached a fever pitch. Times Square was going ballistic in the screens everywhere. The lights danced, changing color with each beat of light and darkness.
"Charlotte!" Damian cried over the noise. "Charlotte!"
The Twins pushed through the crowds, determined to get to the control board at the DJ's station but there was simply no way through with all the pushing bodies. They had to turn on all the lights while they could.
"Lucas!" Logan yelled.
"Yeah?" his twin cried as they pushed.
"I think this party got a little out of hand!"
"Ditto!"
The Jeffersons were pushed apart as they ran in different directions, looking for their friends. Diana stood, torn between what she had to do and what she needed to do. She had a phone in her hand and she had to call Jordan for the New Year, but her friends…
A hand landed on her shoulder. It was Patrick. Patrick could find her anywhere. In the flickering light, her friend nodded. "It's okay. Do what you got to do. We've got this." And he ran off, hopefully to avert crisis. Diana swallowed, nodding to herself, and she fled to find an alcove, dialing Jordan's number as she did.
Noel came tearing past Felix, who they'd roped into helping. "I lost Grace!"
"What?"
"I was hanging onto her like a minute ago! I lost her!"
Felix scanned the flickering hysteria. It was impossible. With the lights, the crowd, the color—there was no way that anyone would find Grace with her size. She would be on the ground by now, knowing her, making it all the more dangerous.
He pushed Noel. "Go—just go!" He cursed mentally. What in the world, Darren? What are you—you show up once and Jefferson goes crazy!
-8-
"Two minutes to the New Year."
There was a second wave of cheering. The foam started spraying into the room. Whatever the Twins had planned, no matter how the night went, they were definitely going to get into huge amounts of trouble for this party.
Felix was right—Grace was on the ground at the moment. She got knocked back when the cheering began afresh. There were only two minutes of the year left.
Grace got kicked in the shins by someone unseen. She choked back a cry and struggled to her feet, trying to get her bearings. A sob escaped her—she felt lost.
"Grace!" a strong arm grabbed her through the dark and pulled her against a body, tight. "It's okay! I got you, I'm here. You're okay."
Grace was confused for a minute. "Shane?" She shakily held onto him.
-8-
Charlotte pulled away, looking around at all the flashing lights. "I—I have to find the others already!"
Darren grabbed her hand and held it tightly. "It's okay—I'm right here! Don't worry."
"Charlotte!"
The singer looked up quickly. "I think I heard Damian."
"Did you?" Darren looked around.
Damian ran into Felix as he crossed the floor again. "Have you seen either of them?" he asked as soon as he recognized his friend.
"No," Felix shook his head, looking around. "You'd think a guy as tall as Darren would—" he stopped. "—is that them?" He pointed to the direction near the windows.
-8-
"One minute to the New Year."
The screaming reached a fever pitch. Times Square was cheering. The ball made its way down progressively.
Charlotte peeled her hands away from Darren. "Darren, Damian's looking for me."
"Stop thinking about Damian for five seconds!" Darren finally burst out, holding tightly onto her hand. "I want to be with you for one minute without having to listen to you talk about him!"
"Calm down, Darren!" Charlotte snapped. "I thought you were okay now—why are you getting so angry?"
Darren swallowed and answered, "I'm not medicated."
"What?" Charlotte stared. "Why?"
"Charlotte!" Damian called again.
-8-
"Thirty seconds to the New Year…"
"I didn't take them," Darren shook his head. "I wanted to be able to tell this to you again so you know I mean it when I say it!" He held her hands tightly. "I tried, I really really tried but I feel when I'm with you. I thought it would be okay if I just tried, but it's not worth it."
Charlotte stared at him, speechless as Darren continued, "When I'm numb I just don't feel happy or sad, even when you're there. You said it yourself—I didn't look like myself. This is me, Charlotte—this is who I really am. And I'm sorry that I'm a terrible person when I'm not medicated, but the truth is—"
-8-
"Twenty seconds to the New Year…"
"—but the truth is this is the me that's horribly, ridiculously in love with you and I just can't do anything about it!" Darren clasped his hands.
Damian reached them, hearing Darren's words, and he stopped immediately, staring.
Charlotte stared at Darren without confusion or hesitation. She only lowered her eyes and shook her head. "…I know who you are. I know what you're like with and without medication."
"Ten…nine…eight…"
"The truth is…I want you to get better. You can be so freaking better than this! With or without medication! Whatever it takes!"
Darren shrugged, shaking his head.
"You don't have to be alone." Charlotte stressed.
"I'm not." Darren smiled a little. "I'm with you." He leaned forward just as Patrick came skidding next to Damian. Damian kept him back.
"Seven…six…five…"
Darren stopped, an inch from Charlotte's lips. Charlotte's hand was pressed to his chest, keeping him at bay. She stared steadily at him, heart hammering in her chest. "I can't."
"Why?"
"…I love Damian."
"Three…two…one! Happy New Year!"
Times Square erupted into a volley of deafening fireworks and brilliant lights. The condominium burst into cheering and screams of Happy New Year wishes. And all lights in the Brightman condominium died. Bodies pressed against one another, grabbing and clutching for New Years kisses amidst happy squealing.
In the chaos, Grace felt Shane hold her tightly against him. She felt scared at first, then just puzzled. "Shane…?"
"It's okay…" Shane whispered quietly in her ear in the darkness. "I've got you. I'll keep you here until the lights come back on."
Shane kept his hands around her waist, nowhere else. He simply remained there, keeping Grace from being jostled around, protecting her from being grabbed by the bodies in the room. Grace blinked in the darkness and clutched at him.
-8-
In the darkness of the foyer, it only by the lights of the buildings and the fireworks outside, Diana leaned against the wall, smiling gently. "…Happy New Year, Jordan."
A gentle voice on the other end, the respirator obstructing his voice slightly, answered, "Happy New Year, Di. I miss you."
"I told you I could spend New—"
"No, Di." His voice sounded as though he were smiling. "I just miss you. Come back when you can. I'll be waiting."
Diana smiled. "All right."
-8-
Damian stared at Charlotte, the expression of amazement in his face unseen in the darkness. His eyes remained fastened on the spot where he last saw her.
Darren released her slowly. He murmured in the dark, "…I know you do. …it was terribly obvious."
"I'm—"
"You'll have plenty of time to be sorry later, when I get better at this and get you to change your mind," Darren said, an effort to restrain himself more than evident in his voice. His fists were clenched in the darkness. "In the meantime…" His shaking hand reached out in the dimness and gave Charlotte a slight push, sending the girl falling into another body.
All the lights in the Brightman condominium returned—all of them simultaneously—in a powerful hum of electricity. Confetti exploded into the air, golden and falling down over them. The crowd erupted into the cheering as a golden blizzard set down
Charlotte looked up at Damian, the one who had caught her arms. Damian looked at her with a smile, and Charlotte turned red at the sight of him. "Happy New Year, Charl," Damian murmured.
She smiled. "Happy New Year, Damian."
From the DJ's booth, the Tweedles were holding the switch that turned on all the lights, having just jammed it to position. They looked relieved as they looked at each other.
Everything else vanished from Charlotte's mind as she looked up to Damian. "You…didn't happen to hear any of that, did you?"
"I actually did." He was holding tightly onto her, and the prefect leaned close amidst the deafening fireworks and answered, "…and I've loved you since I first saw you."
Charlotte smiled, a faint flush creeping up her face as she remained close. She nodded, twining their hands together as Damian kept her close. The fireworks went off in deafening bang, punctuating their words.
"Finally!" Patrick all but flopped onto the carpet in relief. Diana walked back into the party, pocketing her phone and looking relieved and happy. The Twins leaned against each other, smiling. Fireworks erupted outside, in all directions, screaming into the air and exploding into shards of light.
-8-
Shane looked up at all the lights and sighed in relief. Grace, crushed against him, took a breath as Shane let go. "Okay. The sea of hormones has faded off." Shane smiled. "Go on."
"Okay…" shakily, Grace brushed herself off and glanced around. "We have to find the others."
"Yeah, let's go find everyone," Shane said, smiling up at her. "Happy New Year, Grace."
Grace smiled at him and nodded. "Happy New Year, Shane." She looked around and then saw a familiar blond head making his way to the elevator. It was Darren. "Where's he going?"
Noel was about to ask that same question as he reached Darren, who had just stepped into the elevator. "Where's Charlotte?" he demanded, holding his holy water sprayer.
Darren simply gestured to the party with a smile. Noel blinked, glanced back, then turned back at him and frowned. "What's the matter with you?"
To which the prefect simply shrugged and said, "It's a New Year, Noel. Fun's just beginning. He's the Hare to my Tortoise, but the race is still going to be a while."
"Hare…?" Noel blinked, confused. "Wait, wasn't Damian the Rabbit?"
Darren just grinned. The elevator doors hissed shut. Darren glanced to the mirrored walls and smiled to himself. He'd never felt more like himself in a long time. Sure, he didn't get the kiss—and Charlotte admitted that she was in love with Damian…
But after days of meds, he couldn't remember a time when he looked forward to making plans this much.
So this is what it feels like to be comfortable in your own skin…
His phone rang at the lobby. It was Derek.
"Hey! Happy New Year, man! How'd it go? Did you get Jefferson's "Alice" yet?"
"Happy New Year to you too, mother. No not yet," Darren smirked. He sighed happily. "But you know me, I like a challenge when it interests me. I've done this once before. And you know what they say…it's easier to catch what's already tied down."
"What?" Derek sounded baffled.
He stepped out into the street, where the car was waiting. He smiled and glanced up at the party. "I can't wait to get back to Hawthorne."
-8-
The party was sufficiently insane enough that by the time police got to the area and hour or so later to clear most of the mob out—"What underage drinking? It's all chocolate and candy in here, officer."—even the Tweedles were looking a little sheepish. The condominium was nearly totaled—there was debris everywhere and it barely even looked anything like its previous grandeur.
It was only after it was very late into the night—or very early into the morning of the new year—that silence returned to the Brightman condominium. It was now a vast ruin.
"Wow…" Patrick said, looking around at the mess. Only the Jefferson conspirators and a whole lot of Pipers remained inside the area, examining the damage. He looked at the Tweedles. "Your parents are going to kill you."
"Happens once in a while," Lucas agreed, smiling.
"True…doesn't last very long," Logan shrugged.
"I didn't even get to kiss anyone!" Patrick whined. "And those Victoria's Secret models never showed up!" He glared at them. "It's not fair!"
"It's just a New Year's kiss, Patrick," Diana rolled her eyes. "Overrated."
"You have Jordan—of course you think it's overrated!"
"Fine, come here." She grabbed her friend by the sleeve and kissed the side of his cheek. "There! Happy New Year, Patrick!"
The Pipers burst into hysterical laughter as Patrick gaped at her. The Twins seemed to find this particularly ridiculous and just cracked up, falling off the jellybean chairs. They might have had a few drinks as well, and this may be the reason for their heightened madness.
"Where are Damian and Charlotte?" Grace asked, looking around and finding no sign of the two.
"They went out," grinned Lucas. "I think they went up on the roof to watch the sunrise."
"What about Darren?"
"He left," Noel snorted, eating one of the swirly pops as he patted his pockets for his phone. "Said something about the tortoise and the hare—"
"Not the Mock Turtle and the Gryphon?" Logan asked with a grin.
"Pretty sure he said hare," Noel rolled his eyes.
"Huh…" Felix looked contemplative, sitting on one of the tables while ripping open a pixie stick. "Well he's a tough nut to crack, that one."
"I really thought he was going to come and kill Damian or something," Shane shuddered, shaking his head. "Looks like he just really wants a fair shot at Charlotte."
"It hasn't been fair since Damian first said hi to her," Patrick smiled.
"Yeah, well it's not over yet," Noel shot back. "When we get back to school, it's back to the old routine. New Year or not, I'm going to line my door in salt and you psychos can do whatever it is you want."
"You're one of us psychos, Noel," Diana remarked.
"I assure you, compared to you people, I'm perfectly sane."
"I cannot wait for the day we see your psychiatric report."
-8-
On the cold, slate-gray rooftop, Charlotte sat leaning against Damian, asleep. Damian, also half so, had his arm around her with some difficulty owing to his jacket around her. Their hands remained together, close proximity keeping them both warm. The sky had begun to change color.
As the first tinges of orange began to paint the sky, much the same way as Grace's paintings had done, Damian heard Charlotte murmur and roused herself from half slumber.
"…didn't get a New Year's kiss after all…" She murmured, half asleep.
Damian smiled and carefully nudged her with his shoulder, lifting her chin a little. "Hey."
The girl blearily opened her eyes a fraction, "Hm…?"
Damian smiled at his drowsy expression. "Nothing." He looked back into the view. The rising sun was going to get shattered by all the skyscrapers, but in the morning of the New Year, the city that never slept could've almost passed for peaceful.
"You know…" he said, "…it's technically still the New Year." He glanced down at the head on his shoulder.
Charlotte blinked slowly, the haze in her eyes still there, but she smiled a little as she raised her head, leaning their foreheads together. "…technically speaking, yes."
Damian was looking at her lips the same way he had done before. They were so close that they had the same breath and their eyelashes would have met. Charlotte glanced at him through her veiling ones and murmured, "And so…"
"…technically…" Damian agreed, "…this will count, wouldn't it?" He pressed his lips full against hers.
They all lied when they talked about fireworks and kissing. A hundred thousand fireworks must've been going off all around outside when New Years had hit, but it was nothing like kissing Damian properly for the first time at all. It was all touch, and breath, and warmth, and scent, and clutching hands that shook with restraint, with every thought evaporating like the mist when the first few New Year sunbeams pierced through the buildings.
Damian released her just enough so that their faces remained close. He stared into Charlotte's eyes with his heart pounding. Charlotte looked back at him, without fear in her green eyes. Their lips silently met again.
The sun rose over New York to the sounds of life returning to its paces, but Charlotte and Damian wouldn't be back to real life until the next half hour.
-8-
They stood at the airport, all of them, as Shane hitched up the backpack slung over his shoulder with a smile. He was the only one flying alone. Everyone else was taking the Twins' jet. "So I'll hear from you all, yeah?" he smiled. But he glared at Damian. "Especially you. I'd appreciate an update every once in a while. But you can skip the parts about which bases you finally get to cover."
Charlotte glowered at him, bright red, and Damian smacked his arm lightly. "Stop it."
"Sorry, sorry," he grinned apologetically at the others. "Sorry for making all that trouble too. But at least I'll be out of your hair now."
"Drop us a line," Patrick said, bumping fists with him.
"And remember to think, it's apparently very useful," Diana smirked.
"Come back soon!" said Lucas, grinning.
"Or just transfer," shrugged Logan.
"Into Jefferson!"
"That would be great!"
"Sounds reasonable to me!"
"How about no?" Damian glared at them. "I have my hands full with all of you already."
"I'll think about it, but I can't make promises…" Shane grinned, and then looked at Grace, who stood just blinking at him. He smiled. "It was really nice getting to know you, Grace." He extended a hand.
Grace stared at the hand for a long moment. And then she just went ahead and decided to go for a whole hug. Shane was a little surprised and turned bright scarlet. Coughing sounded from the rest of the assembled as an epidemic of snickering sounded.
"Move…" Charlotte said, earnestly pushing them off to a different direction, glowering. "Move, give them some room, they have to talk."
"Wah?" Lucas whined. His twin pouted. "But we—"
Charlotte glared pointedly at them, and when it didn't work, she took out a piece of cookie from her pocket and crushed it in her hands. The others followed without complaint, Noel grumbling about haunted cookies and how they were all under the spell of its ectoplasmic goodness.
Grace pulled something from her bag. It was a small roll of paper in a paper tube. "Here."
"What's this?" Shane asked, even as he opened it. He saw a big splatter of red, green and yellow, but it swirled through the canvas. "I didn't know you did modern art."
Grace just smiled. "It's for one of my new sets. I'm going to paint people as I feel about them, painting the music I thought best fit them. This one…" she turned a bit red, "…is you."
Shane burst out laughing, looking at it. "It's crazy! I like it!" He smiled at her. "Grace, thank you. For everything, I mean. I know I freaked you out, but you…you put up with me."
"You do grow on people," Grace supplied with a smile. She paused before adding, "And I'll miss you."
Shane's smile softened and said, "…I'd tell you the same, but the magnitude of the "missing" part is kind of exponential in comparison to yours."
Grace ducked her head, blushing. "Listen, Shane…"
"I know." Shane smiled faintly. "…you don't like me the way I like you. It's silly, isn't it? Falling this hard so fast? But you make it so easy I just can't help it." He grinned. "Don't worry about it. I don't need you to answer me. I'm content just looking."
Face heating up, Grace swatted at him, only to miss and nearly tripped over her own feet. Shane caught her arm without missing a beat, pulling her back up and then releasing her. Grace blinked. "You're really good at that, you know?"
"I suppose so." Shane grinned. He looked up at the terminal screens. "Well… this is me." He turned back. "Goodbye, Grace. See you again sometime."
Grace smiled and waved. "See you."
Shane gave her one last hug—it lasted longer than was generally normal. And Grace's hands trailed over his arms even as Shane pulled away. The younger brother stepped back and waved at the older one. "Bye, Damian! See you on vacation, I guess. Come home sometime."
"You going to be alright?" Damian called back, a little worried.
"Nothing I haven't already handled! Bye!" Shane waved and hurried off to board, clutching the painting.
Grace stood there, watching after he disappeared, for so long that Charlotte walked up to her and patted her cashmere-covered shoulder. "Hey. You okay?"
There was a pause. And entirely without warning, Grace grabbed onto Charlotte and started crying. "Hey!" she let the fact that Grace was getting tears—and possibly snot—all over her Armani a once-in-a-lifetime pass of forgiveness and patted her. "Why are you crying?"
"If there was a word for it, I'll tell you—right now I can't," her friend answered through chokes. "I don't know why! I feel like an idiot! For heavenssake, Char, slap me or something, don't just stand there!"
Diana and Patrick looked a little scared at that. Charlotte rolled her eyes. "It's all right…take it easy…"
"I can't wait to get back to Hawthorne," Grace sighed, interrupted by sobs. "Everything was so simple."
"There, there…" Charlotte hugged her, and shrugged at the others who were staring in shock and askance. Noel gave them an I'm-surrounded-by-crazy-people expression.
"Well, people!" said Lucas brightly. "Guess it's time to book New York and head back home."
"All the way back to Piper Land," nodded Logan.
Charlotte, still hugging Grace, looked up at Damian, who smiled. "I don't know about you, but I'm all New York-ed already."
"Great. When we get back you can start getting ready."
"What for?"
"My parents want to see you."
|
|
|
Hawthorne
Jul 2, 2014 8:02:32 GMT -5
via mobile
Post by HburgEagle44 on Jul 2, 2014 8:02:32 GMT -5
Aw. So cute! What a party
|
|
|
Post by tonilous on Jul 2, 2014 23:52:30 GMT -5
Hawthorne Explorers
Knock. "Charlotte?"
No answer.
Knock. "Charlotte…?"
Still no answer.
Carefully, Alex pushed open the door and peered into the white and navy room, cautious for any sign of half-dressed tennagers that had thrown him for a loop the last time he entered his stepsister's room. Fortunately, the only sign of life came from the breathing lump under the lush comforter on the bed.
Charlotte had arrived early—or late, depending on what you thought of the time—last night. The New Year had barely been out when she appeared on their doorstep, looking tired from the flight but unbelievably happy. She hardly said anything more than "hello, Happy New Year", "I'm back", "I'm going to my room and then I'm going to faint", and "good night" before she went in and was never heard from again. Her dinner was left uneaten, which was fine for Alex as that meant he got third helpings.
It was already past ten am, and out of a request he could not refuse, he now had to wake her. Alex crept silently over the carpet, standing over Charlotte. He shook her carefully. "Hey. Hey, Charlotte?"
At his touch, Charlotte suddenly sat up in bed, pulling from under her pillow a huge Nerf gun, now aimed directly at Alex's face.
"Whoa! Don't shoot! It's me!" Alex leapt backwards instantly, almost to the wall.
Charlotte blinked blearily, saw that it was indeed her stepbrother and lowered the gun with a roll of her eyes. "Geez, Alex, I told you, don't just barge in…"
"I knocked!" Alex protested. "Twice!" He frowned at the Nerf gun. "That's twice already, why do you keep that thing on you?"
"Force of habit… At least I didn't actually shoot you this time," Charlotte rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "What do you want?"
"The girls want to see you outside," Alex grumbled as he went out of the room.
Charlotte watched him go, confused, then down at the gun on her bed. She shoved it back under her pillow, rolling her eyes. Jefferson was starting to get to her. And what would the girls want with her now? She pushed herself up from bed and picked up her phone from her bedside table.
Just got back to Jefferson. Everyone else is moving back in—it's crazy again. When are you coming back? – D
Charlotte couldn't have stopped smiling even if she tried. She answered,
I'll be back by tomorrow. If you miss me so much, come visit. – C
She smirked to herself, possibly unaware of what she may have just done, and put the phone back onto her table. She rose and began to attempt looking less bedraggled, tugging with her her primping kit crammed mostly with the presents she'd received from Grace.
It was still cold and she hugged herself as, after a while, she went downstairs. Shrugging on the new McQueen trench that the Twins had given her for Christmas, she said a bleary "good morning" to her family as she passed them at the kitchen. The front door was open, and as she stepped out, she stared.
The girls stood there with cold stares, arms crossed. Natasha was staring hard at her. Rose and Mia were raising eyebrows. Fiona looked as blank and expectant as ever, but Kassie was looking at her with the barest trace of a questioning smirk on her face.
"What?" Charlotte asked, staring at them.
No answer. They just kept staring. Natasha, on the other hand, held up her phone that still had one of Charlotte's messages on the screen, and pointed silently at it without so much as changing expression.
Charlotte blinked at the phone, and then rolled her eyes with an exasperated sigh of surrender. "…Yes, it's true."
There was a pause of wide eyes that lasted only half a second before the girls started screaming, leaping as one and subsequently tackling her to the floor. Alex, who was behind Charlotte in the living room, stared in confusion. "Uh…should I be worried about this?"
"No, Alex, just call the morgue; I'm going to kill them all right now for getting stains on this coat!" Charlotte shot back.
The girls were too happy to care. All taking at the same time, the words "New York!", "Radio City!", "presents!", "party!" and above all, "You kissed him! You actually kissed him!" were the most obvious.
"We're so proud of you!" Natasha gasped. "I called it, I called it!"
"So are you going out with Damian officially?" Mia asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Is he your boyfriend now?" Fiona asked unhelpfully.
"Did you make out?" Kassie asked seriously. "Did you use tongue?"
Alex gave a barely perceptible start. "Hey wait—what?"
"What was that about Charlotte kissing someone?" Henry demanded from the kitchen.
Oh dear god. Charlotte leapt up, pushing the girls out of the door. "Nothing!" she called back, pushing them all out. "Nothing—! We're leaving! We're leaving now!" She glowered at the girls who were still snickering and talking. "Just get—shh!—out! Get out!" She yelled back just before Alex could update Henry, "We're going out for a while!" And went out, slamming the door shut.
She glowered at the girls and motioned for them to quickly move towards her car. "Go—go there, now!"
"Where are we going?" Natasha asked, confused and amused.
"Are you really going to kill us now…?" Fiona stared.
Charlotte rolled her eyes so far that they almost didn't resurface. "If we're going to talk about this, can we do it in a range far away from my stepfather and his shotgun? Like Olive Garden?" She gestured to her Navigator quickly. "Besides…all the stuff I brought home from New York for you guys is in there."
Kassie stared. "You had me at Olive Garden. Let's go."
I'm Charlotte. I recently transferred to Hawthorne Academy.
I just came back from New York City for the New Year with the students of Jefferson.
To say that it was eventful would be the biggest understatement since someone asked me if Lady Gaga was "the one who liked weird clothes".
But out of all the things I took back from New York there's just one that topped the rest:
I sang at Radio City Music Hall.
…all right, fine. I got to kiss Damian. Stop reminding me—I need to stay collected.
If Hawthorne's multitude of statues and ornaments had enjoyed their time in peace—then they were well aware that time is over.
POW!
Jefferson was rocked as a door in the second floor blew out nearly right off its hinges, smoke pouring. Damian, who was passing in the hall, barely looked up from his clipboard as the said door blew out behind him. Without so much as looking up, he picked up the nearby fire extinguisher and tossed it to the boy in the lab coat that ran out the broken door. "Welcome back, Drew."
"S'up, Damian," the boy answered just as casually as he ran back into his room.
Damian nonchalantly checked off his name from the list as he continued walking down the hall. Grace ran out of her room and tripped over the carpet. With a sigh, Damian helped her up. "Walk, don't run…" he reminded her for the hundredth time.
"Have you seen the first—" Grace stopped and smiled happily as Damian automatically handed her one. "Thanks!" she went back into her room.
Damian stopped for a moment, realizing that Grace had gone into the room that she and Charlotte would now share. In spite of himself, he smiled at the thought of Hawthorne's two most infamous fashionistas wreaking havoc in a single room. The Twins took this opportunity to accost him, draping their heavy arms over his shoulders.
"Rabbit," whined Lucas, "Where's Alice? Isn't she coming back yet?"
"We do have names, proper ones," Damian answered calmly as he continued looking down the clipboard.
"But we miss her!" Logan whined. "We've got no one to play with!" With absolutely no mind for personal space, he patted down Damian's pockets and snatched out the other boy's phone. "Have you heard from her yet?" he asked, flipping through messages quickly.
"Yes," Damian snatched back his phone, glowering at the twin. "She's not coming in until tomorrow. Why don't you go bother Patrick and Diana?"
"Patrick went with Diana to visit Jordan, they won't be back for another half hour," Lucas pouted. "What are we supposed to do until then?"
"It's not like Charlotte will be here in half an hour to satisfy your boredom even if she were so inclined," Damian punctuated the statement with another tick on the clipboard. "Go do something productive—you're supposed to be grounded anyway."
The cataclysmic party in Park Avenue had reduced the condominium to shreds and even beings as almighty as the Twins had to do their share of downtime. When their parents heard of the damage, they were soundly confined to Massachusetts for the next month and their limousine had been confiscated. Their platinum cards were also revoked—but rumor had it that the Twins kept an engorged stack of cash with them somewhere in their room especially for these occasions.
So whether Hawthorne liked it or not, they would be stuck with the Twins. And so would Damian. "This is productive!" Logan protested. "We're not bothering anyone else!"
"You're bothering me," Damian said pointedly, waving his pen at them. "I need to finish this—Burkhart wants to know who's already in today."
"Let us help!" Logan immediately grabbed the clipboard and his twin bumped Damian away as the two flipped through the sheet. Lucas merely pointed to names in silence and his twin automatically checked it as they proceeded over it. They went through to the second page when Lucas would say, "No, this one is not in—roommate is—" and the twin would immediately make the correction.
Damian stared as the two finished the check in under fifteen seconds and tossed the clipboard back to him. "Now we're bored again," Lucas grumbled.
"How can you possibly know who's in the dorm already?" Damian demanded, looking at the list.
"We know everything," sighed Logan dramatically. "And we're friends with the Caterpillar. Now can we please go see Alice? Surely even Huntington will have something more interesting than having to watch everyone unpack."
"Leave Charlotte alone," Damian snapped the pen closed. "She's got to recover."
"From being kissed passionately on the roof deck?" Lucas grinned as Logan pretended to swoon into his arms. At the stunned expression on Damian's face, the two burst into hysterical laughter that sounded so evil that people in the hall peered out of their rooms. Noel looked out of his room with sprayer in hand.
Damian clenched his fists and then took out his phone and dialed a number.
"Damian?"
With magnificent calmness, he said, "Hello, Di. How's Jordan?"
"He's doing better… We're just about to go and let him get some rest. Why, what—"
"I'm about to very methodically maim certain people. Can you come back to Jefferson?"
"Ah…Twins driving you crazy?" There was some confusion and Patrick sounded on the phone, "If they want to go visit Charlotte, we want to come with."
"What?" Damian stared. Lucas whipped out his arm in the, "see!" gesture and leaned on his twin, smirking at Damian.
"I'd like to go too," Grace said amicably, peering out of the room again.
"We are not going to go see Charlotte!" Damian snapped. Heaven knew the amount of trouble it will entail if he allowed them all to go back to Charlotte's house after the last time. Her report had been appalling and quite frankly, he didn't want anyone jumping into Charlotte's bed anytime soon.
"Oh please, like you're not pining over her," Patrick scoffed.
"You don't want to see her?" Grace asked, wide-eyed.
Damian looked startled. "Of course I do, I just—"
"Great!" Lucas exclaimed, pulling him down the hall.
"Settled!" Logan agreed, taking the other hand and pulling him down the hall. "Besides, we saw the message."
"What message?" Damian demanded.
"The one where she said, "if you miss me so much, come visit"," answered the twin simply. He high-fived his brother in triumph as Damian groaned.
Grace happily jogged alongside them, saying into the phone that was now out of Damian's reach, "We'll come get you from the hospital?"
"No, Di brought her car," Patrick answered. "We'll follow you." He immediately hung up.
Lucas yelled back, "Noel! Keep an eye on the old place! We're going to go see Damian's girlfriend!"
Noel stared from his door. "Hey wait—I thought Charlotte was his girlfriend?" he cried.
"She is!" Logan yelled. "Totally made out during New Years!"
All the students present in the entire floor stopped and turned to them. "What?"
Damian was glad the twins were holding onto his wrists, because then he would've flown at them. In an attempt to retain some dignity, he said, "Fine, we'll go to Charlotte's but could you all try to dial it down a little? They're not used to your brand of crazy."
"I don't follow." Logan blinked.
"I mean try to act relatively normal."
"Which is…?" Lucas raised an eyebrow.
"Anything you're doing right now, do the opposite?" Damian was not prepared to handle Charlotte's parents with this kind of entourage. If he was going by himself, it would be all right. But there was just no telling what the others would do. He had terrible images of broken windows, exploding pans, flying marshmallows and what was likely Charlotte's stepfather's shotgun aimed at them all.
"Hey—Hey I'm going with you!" Noel said quickly, chasing them down the stairs.
"Why?" asked Grace, surprised.
"Maybe if I go back to the source, I can somehow break the curse on Charlotte!" Noel said with that manic gleam in his eye. "If I go with you to Huntington, I can finally end the curse and there'd be everlasting peace in Jefferson!"
As Grace gave Noel a baffled look, Damian rolled his eyes.
Everlasting peace. In Jefferson. Sure. Your Apocalypse is more likely, Noel.
-8-
Similarly, the rest of Hawthorne began to repopulate. The fortunate ornaments and carvings in Adams House were far less beaten by time and teenage madness than that of Jefferson, and they welcomed its illustrious occupants back home.
Having arrived far earlier than anyone else and already looking impeccable from where he sat cross-legged on one of the chaises in the common room, Darren looked down at his own checklist, which resided in an iPad. Unlike Damian who walked around the dormitory doing checks, it was the Adams who approached their prefect to tell him that they've arrived.
Darren smiled at each of them and greeted them as they approached him, and he ticked off their name in the list. He was in perfect condition again, as far as Derek could tell when he arrived.
"Well," he stood in front of him. "You look…normal."
"Best compliment I've heard all day," Darren said immediately, smiling at him. "Welcome back. The same quarters or did you finally decide to get a roomie to torment?"
"I'm captain of two school varsity teams— I can assure you I'm not going to give up my single," he dropped down onto the chair next to Darren's. He studied his friend with careful scrutiny and said, "…you really look different. Well—not different, more like…old times."
"Really," Darren smirked to himself as he looked down at his list. "How so? I certainly feel rather comfortable…"
Derek's eyes widened. "…you're not on meds."
"No, I am not," Darren smiled, looking at him. "And it feels fantastic. Like I'm in control again."
Derek dropped his head to his palm, sighing. "Look, man, I don't think—"
"Exactly," said Darren bluntly, getting up from his seat. He was walking towards the great glass windows that looked outside. "You do not. And neither do I when I'm medicated. And now that I'm not, my thoughts are rather clear. Don't worry, Derek—I haven't had a meltdown or an explosion, I think I'm doing rather well. But if it makes you feel better, I do keep the stuff around just in case I have the urge to actually strangle another human."
"It doesn't make me feel better," Derek grumbled. "But since you haven't actually done anything…"
The doors to Adams flew open with a crash, making the students in the hall jump about a foot. A figure in white and black, shirt untucked and skirt higher than what was appropriate, was standing there with a dramatic pose.
"I'm back, you sorry people!" she yelled through the hall, making the other Adams wince and glare at her. She stalked—she never could simply walk, that girl with the gleaming oak-brown hair in waves—as she went in. Derek rolled his eyes as the firecracker entered the common room.
Darren barely batted an eye as he looked at his list. "Welcome back, Juliet." He checked the name "Juliet Larson" off nonchalantly.
The girl stood in front of him ramrod straight, then made an exaggerated bow that would've made a court jester proud. "I'm back! Filming just wrapped—I have returned to the gateways of the best education Massachusetts can offer me…" she gave him a pained smile.
"Take off those glasses," Derek got up and snatched her sunglasses off her face, earning a brown-eyed glare. He threw them back at her, but Juliet wasn't particularly rattled. As far as things went, she and Derek generally got along anyway. Juliet turned back to her agent who was hovering by the entryway. "Send my things in, then you can leave."
"Fine—but don't forget to look the script over for the next—"
"Hey!" Juliet snapped her fingers, frowning. "I just wrapped one. I'm on a break. And that means no shop talk until at least three days, hm?"
The woman with the black hair frowned at her and she brushed off the sleeves of her suit as she glanced around the surroundings. "Fine. I'll contact you again in three days. Don't get into trouble, Juliet. I don't want to see another tabloid headline."
"We'll keep her in check, Carmen," Darren faked a perfectly respectable smile from where he sat, and it convinced the woman to leave. Juliet kept up her bright, plastic smile until she was gone, and then whirled around and sat next to Derek.
"And after a two-month absence…" Derek smirked. "Why are you even in Hawthorne? Lowell should've made you hit the bricks."
"My grades are dazzling," Juliet answered coolly, checking her iPhone. "My long-distance study assignments returned with gleaming marks that would make a valedictorian weep. And please, Lowell would never let me leave—having an honest-to-gosh celeb in the school is always welcome. But I'm happy to be up to speed in terms of events. I'm sorry I missed the Brightman party. I could've locked McGinty in the pantry for you, Darren."
Darren frowned at her, then at Derek. "What have you been telling her?"
"Everything," Derek answered, texting one of his many girlfriends. "When you started conveniently forgetting your medication, I decided a little backup might be necessary. So I kept her up to speed on what you've been doing."
"And so you get Jules…?"
The newcomer pretended to be wounded. "I'm hurt, Darren! Does our friendship of two whole years mean nothing to you…? I honestly did grow to hate you so much less when you're not being such a violent psychopath."
"Very funny," Darren put down the list onto his lap. "You were hardly around those two years. You're always on location."
"I was missed? Gasp! I'm moved," she rolled her eyes and looked at Darren. "Seriously. You and 'no meds' don't actually go together unless in the form of a police report. That Summers kid must have your boxers in a knot." But she fell quiet when she received a truly menacing look from Darren. Then Juliet knew that the matter was not a laughing one. A little chilled, she sat back.
Satisfied with the response, Darren rose and went to the great glass windows of the common room that looked out to the rest of the school. "Hmm…" Darren frowned slightly as he looked out the window. "Now where do they think they're going…?"
He watched with intense eyes as the small flock of Jeffersons exited their house from the distance. They were distant, but not so distant that he couldn't tell who they were. He could recognize the blond twins anywhere, and between them they dragged Damian.
Darren considered his information: that the Brightmans were bound within Massachusetts limits after the massive party destruction they caused. And they would only need Damian if they were going somewhere where they actually needed him, and where else would they go with him but…
"Derek?"
"What?"
"I'm going out."
His friend looked up. "What? Now? Whoa—!" he caught the iPad that was tossed to him.
"Finish checking for me," Darren added as he slipped on his coat. "I've got an important errand to run. I'll be at least a few hours off."
"You're leaving us in charge?" Juliet asked, blinking.
"Not you. Derek." To which his friend looked rather pleased. Darren walked to the door and stopped. He smiled at his two friends. "And Juliet? Try to be nicer to the others? We are a zero-tolerance no-bullying policy school."
To which Juliet protested, "I don't bully people—I'm just at a higher level than they are! Vast difference! It's really up to them how to take my personality!"
"Yes, well—you're a jerk. And when even I call you that, that's saying something." Darren slammed the door shut.
A/N: Hi! Drew Mapleton and Juliet Larson have been added to the character list found on Page 4! :)
|
|
|
Hawthorne
Jul 3, 2014 0:18:59 GMT -5
via mobile
Post by HburgEagle44 on Jul 3, 2014 0:18:59 GMT -5
I kinda feel like Juliet doesn't really belong in Adams haha even though she does feel better than everyone else. But loved the update! Poor Henry though.
|
|
|
Post by tonilous on Jul 3, 2014 0:46:59 GMT -5
"…and then we just…sat on the rooftop of the building. We wanted to see the sunrise. Well, actually it was Damian's idea. I ended up falling asleep, I guess, but I woke up just in time for it. And we figured that since it was still the new year, it would technically pass as one if we…" Charlotte trailed away and then primly cleared her throat as she fixed the napkin on her lap. Her face had been red for the duration of the story. "Well anyway. There it is."
Kassie was listening spellbound as she snapped breadsticks between her fingers. "…wow. I had no idea that you took that long to get one actual kiss—and you still haven't done anything else. That's got to be some kind of record." Mia pushed her elbow off the table and rolled her eyes at her.
Charlotte gave her a narrow-eyed glare. "Well it might shock you, Kassie, gentlemen actually do exist in the world."
"You say gentlemen, I say holding out," Kassie said with a grimace, putting on the L'oreal lipgloss that Charlotte had given her.
"I thought it was really sweet of him, Charlie," Rose said, smiling at him, patting. She was also already wearing the Chanel perfume that was her present. "We're really happy for you. I mean, it's really about time."
"And his present for you was…appropriate," Austin, who had joined them, gave her a huge smile that told her how happy and supremely envious he was at the same time. He toyed with the buttons on her Marc Jacobs jacket. Charlotte preened a little with a smug smirk, "That, I will agree with."
Natasha sipped her iced tea and admired the jeweled pendant from Cartier she was wearing. "And your friends seem to like spoiling you. Are you sure there's no catch to all this, that they're not roping you into one of those rich people secret societies?"
"The catch is I have to live with them," Charlotte answered with a pained smile. "The trick is learning to adapt."
"Yeah, I heard Alex telling Hunter that you shot him with a Nerf to the face last time," Austin snorted.
"And this morning," Charlotte sighed.
Fiona was hugging her present—a gigantic teddy bear that required her to not actually be sitting in the booth but on a chair at the end of the table—and said as she leaned into its velvet plush, "For a monster house, everyone sounds so nice…"
Charlotte remembered that all Fiona saw before was the Silent Hill décor, but she couldn't bring herself to contradict her when it was partly true.
"What I would like to know…" Kassie suddenly said, leaning forward, "… is if that Darren guy is open to any other girl? Because he sounds hot."
"Are you sure that's such a good idea?" Mia finally said, "because from what Charlotte describes, he sounds a little bipolar."
"He's working on it," Charlotte snapped. "But…Mia's right—no, Kassie."
"How about those twins? Never actually had twins before."
Charlotte sighed, exasperated. Over Kassie's "What? Just because she's the one in a private school doesn't mean she gets all the fun…", her phone vibrated and she took it out and saw a message from Damian.
Where are you right now? –D
Puzzled, Charlotte answered:
Olive Garden, with the Huntingtons. Why? – C
Just confirming. Apologies ahead of time. Expect company. – D
"Charlotte—Pardon me for interrupting this riveting account of your now-existent love life, but what were you saying about that group from New York you saw?" Austin had a pad and a pen out, scribbling furiously. "It sounded a little familiar or something."
"Darren said they're Harold Kramer High School," Charlotte replied, raising an eyebrow. "Their captain's name is Tom whathisname. Their group is Pure Energy?"
"They sound like an energy drink…" Rose murmured.
"They might have had a few considering how they were moving out there at Central Park…" Charlotte said thoughtfully as she remembered.
"Uh huh…" Austin scribbled down the name. "Not that we have to deal with them until Nationals, but it's always good to look up the competition. Possible weaknesses. Strengths. How to best crush them under my heels."
Charlotte rolled her eyes and pretended to fan him. "Before that, can we deal with Westhampton? Don't forget that you ran little Sunshine off on a rail all the way there."
Austin glared at her. "It was a moment. I don't do that anymore; I don't even protest when Mark and Justin sing a few leads." He primly folded his hands on his lap.
"That's because they aren't a threat to you," Natasha rolled her eyes.
Rose then sat up, putting down her fork as she looked at her phone. "Mm! The boys are asking where to meet us."
"Good, tell them that their presents are strictly for special occasions only—the thought that they'd wear Cavallis and Fords to their daily roughhousing is enough to give me heart failure." Charlotte stabbed her salad.
"You're the only one who wears those clothes at school," Natasha said sensibly.
"Oh!" Austin finally looked up. "I finally remembered! Pure Energy! I saw this video of them before at Nationals. They performed three songs—they split the girls and the guys, then one big production number with all of them as a third. They brought a whole limousine onstage. And confetti cannons. They've placed for the past two years." He leaned back, staring at his plate. "…they were…good."
"Austin—hello?" Charlotte said, snapping her fingers in front of his eyes. "Your neurosis is showing. We won't even get to Pure Energy until we beat Westhampton!"
"What is 'we'?" Kassie pointed out with a snort. "We'll have to beat you Pipers too. And you'll have to beat us."
Silence on the table.
Natasha shot her a look and turned to Charlotte. "Hey. This is not different from competition. When we went in there, we were sure that one of us was going to lose, and we managed to keep tight, right? Same deal for Regionals. Round two, that's all it is, okay Charlie?"
Charlotte smiled and touched fingertips with her. "I guess you're right." She raised an eyebrow at her. "No punches pulled?"
"You better be ready for a knockout," she agreed.
The doors to Olive Garden opened. Mia blinked. "That must be Andrew and the other guys."
They were guys, but they were not from Huntington. Charlotte's eyes landed at the pair of identical boys that stepped in and looked around. Their eyes target-locked on Charlotte in unison. And in a cry that rattled Olive Garden—"Alice!"
Charlotte's eyes widened to their full extent as the Tweedles swooped down on her. It was a bad idea to sit at one end of the booth as they now scooped her up and hugged her between them. "We missed you!" they cried as the Huntington girls began to panic, alarmed.
"It's been less than thirty six hours!" Charlotte protested, struggling.
"Whoa!" Patrick and Diana came running as people were starting to stare, the two of them quickly pulling the twins away from Charlotte—and they ended up getting tangled with one Tweedle each and all on the ground. Damian immediately stepped in as they fell and caught Charlotte's arm before she fell with them. He smiled. "Hey."
"Hi," Charlotte breathed, smirking at him but nevertheless relieved. "Impeccable timing.
"Well, I try." Damian looked at the stunned girls at the table and nodded to them, beaming. "Hello, ladies."
"Hi, Damian," they answered, in varying ranges of amusement and confusion.
"Get off me, Lucas!" Patrick grumbled, pushing the other boy off. The Tweedles scrambled to their feet and dusted themselves off, smiling brightly at the girls. "Hello, talking flowers!" they chorused.
"Why do they call us that?" asked Kassie.
"Why do they call you Alice?" Natasha asked Charlotte.
"Why are you even here?" Charlotte demanded to the whole lot of them.
"Why—" Noel popped up from the plants that separated the booth from the one next to it, making Austin and Mia jump, "—are you three girls always dressed in those outfits every time we see you?" he demanded to the cheerleaders.
All of the assembled gave Noel a look that questioned his sanity. Noel gave them an equally narrow-eyed look. "Do those uniforms have something in connection to Charlotte's curse, seeing as how she wore it during the game too? Is this some weird cheerleader cult? Because I've seen all the references towards spirit stick worship and I must say that it's highly suspect."
After an aghast pause, Natasha gave Charlotte a sidelong glance. "Are you absolutely sure that he's not in a cult?"
"At this point, more asylum inmate than cult," Charlotte answered without batting an eye.
An awkward silence.
"So!" Grace piped up from behind Damian. "Ice cream? Do they have ice cream here?"
A pause.
"Yeah! Okay, ice cream! Sounds great!"
And all the Hawthornes pulled a table over and sat. They were quite a crowd, especially as the talk began and then the Huntington male members arrived to join them. They took up so much room at Olive Garden that people were wondering why there were so many young people in there.
"Dude, that is so lame, why can't she be the MVP if she was the only one who saved your butts during that game?" Alex asked, brow furrowed as the Jeffersons told them about the last football game.
"Don't ask me, ask the league—that's how it works," Patrick shrugged. "Seriously, Diana manned that goal like she was possessed."
"Only because you had to keep staring at the cheerleaders," Diana retorted.
"I can't blame him for that—I've seen those Banshees in action," Mark grinned. "They were hot." At the sight of the cheerleaders shooting him murderous looks, he said, "What?" He frowned. "They were! With the skirts, and their—"
"—gold spankies?" Patrick said, looking up with a huge grin.
"Yeah!" he and Mark actually high fived at that one, and the cheerleaders all rolled their eyes, scoffing.
"—but you'll be surprised how much couture is out there for girls," Grace was telling Natasha. "Seriously, I have more than a few pieces that I can give you!" She looked at Charlotte. "We should have totally thought of this sooner."
"I know!" Charlotte laughed, grinning at Natasha. "You better make room in your closet, Tash—our combined forces will engorge your closet."
"Please—I need some," Natasha laughed. "Glad to know that you've got someone to hang out with there, Charlotte."
"Ugh, this madness is going to get so much worse when I move into the same room with Grace…" Charlotte remarked.
"But I always thought that unicorns were white even when small…" Rose was telling Noel, blinking.
Fiona supplied, "I have this little unicorn I got from the fifth grade and he's white…when he grows up he'll stay white…"
"No no, everyone knows that unicorn foals start out golden, then they fade and turn silver when they grow up!" Noel answered sensibly.
"Do you have one…? Can I have one…?" Fiona asked.
"Seriously, I don't get that either!" said Hunter. "Are unicorns mostly girls or what? If they only approach girls, then they must be guys, right?"
"Right," Andrew agreed, confused.
"You've got it all wrong!" Noel said, exasperated. "Honestly—it's like this…"
"But seriously, your biceps are hard as rocks," Logan said, poking Kassie's arm as Lucas did the same to Mia. "You girls must really be crazy strong."
"Among other things," Kassie threw him a flirty glare and paused. "Wait a sec—which one are you again?"
"Lucas," Logan grinned.
"Right. So do you want to ditch this place and go somewhere else?" she smirked. Mia could barely react, she was occupied in keeping Lucas' curious hands from poking at her curly ponytail.
The twin grinned. "I would, but I'll only go if my brother gets to as well."
The expression on Mia's face was priceless and Kassie made an "oooh…" face, absolutely intrigued.
"But they should always put their strongest contenders out front!" Austin protested to Damian from the other side of the table. "And if just happens to be one particular star out of all the rest, then so be it!"
"But that's exactly the point of the duels," Damian told him patiently. "Whoever everyone else deems the stronger contender will go on to lead."
"But it comes down to a popularity vote! What if, say, the person was amazingly, unbelievably talented and he just simply is disliked by the rest of his peers and is therefore unpopular?"
"Oh, I think we know someone like that…" Damian muttered to Charlotte, who smiled.
"Glad to see you're all getting along," Charlotte told him.
"Better than the alternatives…" Damian smiled, squeezing her hand from under the table.
"No!" Patrick was saying to Natasha. "There is just no way in this green earth that you can possibly like tater tots more than I do! It's just not humanly possible!"
"Try me!" Natasha raised an eyebrow. "I dare you."
Patrick immediately called over the waitress. "Tots, my good woman! For me and the lady!" He turned back to Natasha. "We'll see about that."
"Amateur," she snorted. "Sit down before you hurt yourself."
"God, it's like the cookies all over again," Charlotte shook her head.
"Patrick may look like that, but he's a teenage boy and he needs to eat," Damian said. "You know he prowls my room for my stashes of food and pretty much cleans the place down?"
"You and your weird friends…" Charlotte made a face at him, grinning.
"Oh so the pot is calling the kettle black…" Damian smirked, leaning to her. They got very close, smiling, until the table suddenly jumped and they looked up.
Alex was rubbing his knee, pretending as though nothing had happened. "Sorry. Accident." He coughed and returned to sports talk with Mark and Diana.
Charlotte glared at him, but Damian just laughed.
-8-
Henry opened the door, fully expecting his step daughter to be there, but was surprised to find a tall blond young man standing there. "Oh, hello, Mr. Geraghty!" Darren said with a smile that won parents everywhere over. "Is Charlotte home?"
"Oh—Darren, right?" Henry blinked, startled. "No, actually, Charlotte isn't here. She went out with some friends of hers from her old school."
"Oh…" Darren frowned a little, looking worried. "I had hoped to see her. Just giving her some reminders about school."
"Well, she should be back soon!" Ellen said, coming up beside Henry and smiling up at the Adams prefect. "Come in, come in—it's really cold out."
If Noel had been around, he would postulate that one of the cardinal rules when dealing with vampires or other assorted evil beings was that you should never invite them into your home. Darren smiled as he entered. "Thank you, Mrs. Geraghty. Oh, then, I suppose I could simply just tell you about the reminders, so I won't have to stay long here. You have a lovely home."
Henry smiled a little and made a short response of gratitude as he sat in front of Darren in the living room. "So, you go to school with Charlotte…" Ellen handed them some hot chocolate.
"Thank you," Darren told her, smiling, "and yes, I do. We don't share the same dormitory—she stays in Jefferson and I stay in Adams. But I'm the Adams prefect and I thought it would be all right to make sure that she's assimilating all right, since she's new." He smiled a little bit more. "And I'm her friend."
"Yeah, you're in the Pipers with her, right?" Henry said, scrutinizing him. "We, uh, we saw you perform and you won during the Winter Festival."
"Congratulations," Ellen said kindly.
"Thank you, but really…" Darren laughed softly. "I have a lot to thank Charlotte for."
"Really?" Henry blinked. "What makes you say that?"
Darren looked down at his hot chocolate. "It's…actually a little embarrassing. But the truth is, Charlotte's really…well she's really good at just being herself. And…I've had some personal issues, recently…and she's helped me through them a lot."
Henry looked a little surprised and Darren continued, "What I meant was that…I'm not the most popular person in school, and Charlotte seemed to just look past all that. I think she's…" he trailed off and then just smiled faintly. "I think you have a really great kid, Mrs. Geraghty."
Ellen looked at Henry with a smile and Henry smiled back a little at her. "Well…thank you, Darren, I think she's…she's pretty amazing too. Couldn't have asked for a better daughter."
Darren smiled and then laughed. "Well! Getting to the point. I just wanted to come over and tell Charlotte that usually after a new student has been in Hawthorne for as long as she has so far, there will be an academic assessment that will go on. To see if the student is handling the studies in Hawthorne well. Of course, I imagine in Charlotte's case it would only be a formality—but I just wanted to make sure since she seems to have been given quite a bit of work. It's taking a toll on her."
Ellen looked concerned. "Toll how?"
Darren blinked. "I heard from the students that Charlotte has been losing weight and she's buried in the work. If she was having any difficulty, I wanted to see if there was anything I can do to help. It's probably not the work itself, but just the load. That, and Piper practice…and the fact that she doesn't have a particularly quiet dormitory…"
Henry sat up, frowning, now looking concerned. He leaned forward, eyes narrowed. "What do you mean? Losing weight? Quiet dormitory?"
Darren smiled faintly. "Well…nothing against them, of course… but Jefferson is known for being a rather…rambunctious house. The students there can bounce off the walls a little and get into some misdemeanors…"
Ellen and Henry looked at each other. They remembered the troop of teenagers that had invaded the house the morning Charlotte had left for New York. They seemed all right, but then they had to wonder how they even all got in there to begin with.
"Please don't tell Charlotte I said anything," Darren begged. "I know she's very attached to the students at Jefferson. I'm sure it's all harmless. I wouldn't want to stress her any more than she already must be." Darren smiled. "But you know, I think all of these matters would have been covered by Damian already."
"Why would Damian cover this?" asked Ellen.
"Oh. He's…the Jefferson House Prefect, of course," Darren blinked. "Just Acting, right now. The original House Prefect is currently confined in a hospital. He's taking over duties."
"Well…we actually haven't seen Damian since the Festival," Ellen admitted. She was certain that he wasn't among the students who picked Charlotte up for New York.
"Oh? Odd…I thought he would've contacted you about all this…" Darren seemed to consider. Then he cracked a smile. "But I'm sure he must be taking care of Charlotte, seeing as how close they've become."
"Yeah about that," Henry leaned forward and said in a low tone, "Have you, uh…heard anything? About those two recently? Because he's all Charlotte talks about sometimes."
Inwardly, Darren's veins turned ice cold. But his smile remained perfect. "Well, I saw them in the party at New York together. I'm usually not one to gossip but I think they've developed somewhat of a…mutual understanding. Charlotte seems very taken by him and…vice versa."
"I get it…" Henry leaned back. "Right, good to know."
Darren laughed. "The party was pretty wild. Charlotte enjoyed herself. But don't worry, while I was with her, she didn't have any alcohol."
"There was booze?"
"Free flowing," Darren answered with a laugh. "The Twins throw infamously wild parties." Then he seemed to realize what he was saying. "I meant… Well, generally it was available to those who wanted it, but—"
"All right, Darren—I think we get the picture," Henry responded with a frown.
Darren looked uncomfortable. "I hope I didn't get Charlotte into any trouble here. I assure you, she's been in great behavior all this time."
"Yes, and I believe you, don't worry," Henry said with a nod.
Darren glanced at his Rolex and said, "Well…I really have taken up too much of your time. I should be going. Please tell Charlotte that if there's anything I can help her with about the academic assessment, I'd be willing to help." He got up.
Henry rose and shook hands with him. "We'll tell her."
"Thank you." Darren smiled at him and Ellen and headed for the door.
"Darren!" said Henry suddenly.
"Yes, sir?"
"What House did you say you were in again?"
"Adams, sir," Darren answered, beaming. "And proud of it."
"All right. Just wanted to make sure."
Darren opened the door, and immediately found himself face to face with Charlotte and Damian, who were just about to come inside. Instead of being startled, he smiled even more at the sight of them. "Oh hello," he said smoothly. Behind them, the other Jeffersons were waiting in cars—Patrick and Diana in Diana's Porsche and the twins and Grace in the Twins' Rolls Royce (their "other" car), and Noel in his Impala—and they all sat up at the sight of him.
"Darren?" Charlotte blinked. "What are you doing here?"
"I was actually coming to see you," Darren said, smiling. "But I've already talked to your parents about the academic assessment."
"Wait—what academic assessment?" Charlotte asked, frowning.
"Damian didn't tell you? After a month or a bit after that, new students need to undergo academic assessment to see how they're adapting to Hawthorne studies."
Charlotte looked at Damian with wide eyes. Damian answered, a little anxious, "I was going to tell you when you got back. I didn't want you to stress about it until you got back to Hawthorne."
"Charlotte?" Henry's voice sounded from behind Darren. Darren stepped aside and let Charlotte approach. Henry came up to his stepdaughter and said, "We have to have a little talk." He looked at Damian and nodded. "Damian."
"Hello, Mr. Geraghty." Damian smiled.
"Hey, Mr. G!" yelled the twins from the car, waving.
"Hello, boys," said Henry, giving them a small wave. He looked at Darren. "Thanks for coming, Darren. We'll take it from here."
"Sure, thank you, Mr. Geraghty." Darren flashed him a smile, and gave one to Damian. He was met with cold eyes, to which he just smiled more. The Adams prefect brushed himself off as he walked back to his car—a Jaguar—got in, gave Charlotte a smile and drove off.
The Twins looked at each other, then looked to the backseat. "Grace. Get in Di's car."
Grace saw the looks in their eyes and did so without questions. The moment she got into Diana's Porsche, the Twins yelled, "See you in Hawthorne, Damian!" And the pair immediately roared off after the Jaguar.
Henry turned to Damian and Charlotte. "Both of you, inside. We need to talk."
Charlotte and Damian looked at each other.
This didn't bode well.
|
|
|
Hawthorne
Jul 3, 2014 1:22:49 GMT -5
via mobile
Post by HburgEagle44 on Jul 3, 2014 1:22:49 GMT -5
No Darren no. It was an adorable update until him -.-
|
|
|
Post by tonilous on Jul 3, 2014 2:22:55 GMT -5
Hawthorne Jumping Hurdles
I'm Charlotte.
I recently transferred to Hawthorne Academy.
I fell in love with a boy named Damian, and for the first time in my life…I was loved back.
But it's still so far from over. Dancing together onstage…holding each other through fireworks…kisses during the New Year…
But it's time to come down from that cloud.
And it looks like my step-dad is meeting us when we land.
Damian and Charlotte sat on the couch in the living room, the former with his hands resting on his knees, the latter cross-legged and leaning back, with a hand splayed on her face. Henry sat across them both, leaning forward with his elbows braced on his knees. Ellen sat on the cushioned footstool, between the battle lines, looking at them both. Alex sat in the entryway towards the kitchen, devouring a massive sandwich and pretending to not to be paying attention.
Henry looked straight at the pair, unblinking, as Charlotte drummed her fingernails against the armrest of the couch, looking at her stepfather expectantly. Damian remained still and attentive, waiting, as Ellen glanced apprehensively at them all.
After the long moment of silence, Charlotte finally asked, "…what do we have to talk about?"
Alex craned his neck from the kitchen, tilting back his chair so it now balanced on the back legs.
At the silence, Charlotte added, "Is there something Darren told you other than assessment? Because I really don't think you need Damian here if it was just that."
"No, Damian has to stay," Henry said with finality.
Ellen looked at them all apprehensively. Damian glanced slightly at Charlotte who met his glance for a moment, before both turned back to Henry.
"Now I'm going to ask you two some questions, and I want you to answer it with the truth," Henry said, looking at Charlotte and Damian. "And I'm serious. Because you both know that I don't have that clear an idea of what goes on while Charlotte is in boarding school, or who she's with, or what she's doing. I want the truth, and when you answer me, it better be the truth or there's going to be trouble."
Charlotte blinked and nodded slowly. Damian agreed, understanding this entirely. Charlotte's fingertips rested just against his knuckles on the couch, looking as though they landed there only by accident, but neither made the move to take the contact away.
Henry studied them both a moment longer, then leaned a bit more forward, motioning for them both to come closer, the way someone would when he was about to impart a secret. The two looked at each other, a little puzzled, but also leaned forward, Ellen doing the same. Alex leaned further, looking at them, trying to hear.
Henry said, "There was a party in New York? A big one?"
The two nodded.
"It was…one of those wild ones? There was booze?"
Charlotte hesitated, glancing at Damian, but Damian nodded. "Yes." He was starting to slowly get the scope of what Darren may have said.
Henry now looked at Charlotte. "Did they offer you any?"
"Yes," She swallowed.
"Did you drink?"
"No," Charlotte said, looking at her father directly with sureness in her tone.
Henry looked at Damian. Damian replied, "She didn't."
"Did you offer her any?"
"No," Damian said quietly.
"I told him I can't drink," Charlotte immediately added. "He told the others not to give me some."
Henry nodded a little and carefully held up his hand to Charlotte, telling her to be quiet for a moment, and that the addition was unnecessary. Charlotte sat back slightly but remained close as her stepfather turned his eyes back to Damian.
"Your dorm. You kids get into trouble a lot?"
A pause. The two looked at each other, not sure how to take this question. Henry added, "I'm talking serious trouble—do you boys get sent to the dean?"
Charlotte paled, remembering Lowell's office. Damian closed his eyes and exhaled. "…yes."
"How often?"
"I don't have a number, but it's from time to time," Damian responded.
"Any of this go into your permanent records?"
"No," said Damian immediately.
Nothing ever went into a Jefferson's permanent records. The pranks were often morally harmless (if not physically) or chalked up to house rivalry. They made sure that the only people who did things worthy of suspension (breaking into off-limits places, leaving campus without permission, causing serious property damage) were powerful enough to curb the attack by sheer influence if the heat came. The Twins were the prime examples.
But the very main reason was: they made sure that there was never enough proof to strike. Never. Even Adams and Washington abided by these unofficial codes. This was the only reason all chaos had not swept down onto the Houses from the administration.
Henry nodded slowly. After a moment's pause, he gave Damian a direct look.
"Are you going out with my daughter, Damian?"
Charlotte's entire body tensed as Ellen's eyes widened, staring at her husband. Alex leaned so far back that he was on the verge of falling as he stared.
Damian tensed only very slightly, and he did not break eye contact with Henry for a moment. When he finally turned away, it was to look at Charlotte, who looked at him with an emotion that people have yet to name—one of great apprehension, mixed with dread, and then hope.
And then he simply put his hand fully over Charlotte's on the couch, warm fingers twined together. Then he turned back to the father with a small smile, saying very carefully, "To be perfectly honest, Mr. Geraghty… with her and your permission…I would really, really like to."
Ellen was smiling almost beyond her control. Her hands clasped together as she saw the absolutely stunned expression in Charlotte's face, eyes all lit up with Damian's words. Alex, shocked, leaned back so far that balance failed him and he—and the chair—fell with a bang. Everyone looked up for a moment, but he sprang up, scarlet. "I'm okay! I'm fine." He brushed himself off.
Charlotte's breath caught in her throat when Damian then turned to her in askance. Clasping her hand tightly now, she quickly turned to her stepfather, saying quickly, "Yes! I'm saying yes," she added to Damian, then to her parents, "I'm saying yes, and that's it."
The apprehensive, expectant look in Charlotte's eyes and the way she clung onto Damian's hand, almost made Henry smile. "Now, Charlotte—wait a minute—"
Charlotte flustered, looking as though she would get angry. "Whatever Darren said to you—!"
"Okay, calm down," Henry said firmly, holding the free hand that was flailing. "Calm down. Let me talk, all right?"
Charlotte sat back a little, keeping her hand and Damian's together. The other boy put his other hand over theirs to calm her.
Henry sighed. "The truth is, Char—I didn't actually have to ask. You…made it kind of obvious how you saw Damian." As she turned lobster scarlet and Damian raised his eyebrows, "And to tell you honestly, after what happened in Huntington, you just moved to Hawthorne so fast and we didn't know how you were going to handle it. Your mom and I got worried, and because we didn't see you for so long, when we did see you again—the difference was obvious."
"And you looked wonderful at the Festival, Charlie—you looked so…happy," Ellen said, beaming. She glanced at Damian. "Especially after you came back from the dorm."
Happy as she was to hear this precursor to approval, Charlotte wanted to die right then and there at the last statement. Damian was trying—and failing very badly—to stop smiling. But Henry turned to Damian with a look that implied a serious note.
"Look, I don't know what this Darren kid has in for the both of you. He painted a one heck of a picture for us. But if most of what he's saying is true, then I can't just brush it off either." Henry glanced at Charlotte, and back at Damian. "I trust Charlotte, and if she trusts you, then that's how it's going to be. But if anything happens to my daughter out there, Damian—if I hear about her so much as crying about anything—"
"Believe me, sir, if anything happens to your daughter on my watch, I will present myself to you to be shot at," Damian said with a small smile.
"Dad—" Charlotte began, giving Damian a sidelong narrow-eyed look, but her father shook his head.
"I didn't send you there to get expelled," Henry said with finality. "I love you, you know that, and I'm just doing my job here as your father, and that's making sure that you have a future. I'm happy with what makes you happy, but if you don't pass that assessment, you're moving to the Adams house."
Charlotte paled. Her stepfather softened. "I know you can do it. You've always been able to do whatever you made up your mind to do—that's just the way you are. When you said you would hit that high note in that song you wanted, you fought for that and you did it. That's all it is now, and I know you'll do it again."
Henry looked at Damian. "And Damian, while this is me basically agreeing to this…relationship, let me get one thing clear; I don't care what base you think you're on—there's only two sides to the field right now: You being alive and you getting hunted down by me if you push Charlotte too far. Got that?"
Deep crimson, Charlotte gave Henry a disbelieving look. Damian put on all the assumed gravity he could muster at this moment and replied, "As crystal, sir."
With a groan, Charlotte dropped her face into her hand, and Ellen stifled a laugh.
"Wait—so…we're fine with all this, right?" Alex said, looking in from the entryway, brow furrowed. He saw Charlotte turn to him with an expression he once saw before—when he questioned the feasibility of flying three hundred live doves for the wedding. He frowned back. "I was just making sure!"
"It's fine, Alex," Ellen said to him before smiling at Charlotte and patting her knee. She murmured to her, "We're very happy for you." She glanced at Damian and nodded, and the soloist returned it with a small smile.
Henry cleared his throat with a pointed look. "All right. So…that covers it. Charlotte, you stay right there, we have something else to, uh…to cover. Damian—you better head back home—"
"Char, I'll see you in the dorms tomorrow," Damian told Charlotte with an encouraging squeeze on her hands when he received Charlotte's expression of "you're going to leave me here with The Talk?". He laughed a little. "You'll be okay. You'll be fine. I'll see you tomorrow."
Charlotte glared at him but accepted the small, incredibly chaste hug which was all Damian could give her within Henry's proximity. Damian turned to the parents, saying, "Thank you, Mr. Geraghty, Mrs. Geraghty. I'll see you around."
"See you, Damian," said Ellen, beaming. Alex awkwardly gave him a nod, and Damian nodded back, not quite sure how to greet him, but he smiled at Charlotte one last time before heading out of the door. Charlotte turned back to her stepfather who took a deep breath and began with, "Okay, I know that you know all this, I just want to go over this with you right now…" and Charlotte sank back into the couch with a groan.
-8-
"What happened?" asked Diana as Damian finally emerged and headed to the Porsche. Diana was still in the car, while Patrick and Noel leaned outside of it, waiting. The Impala was blaring "Back in Black" from its speakers. Damian looked relieved as he approached. "Went well?" Patrick asked hopefully.
"I'm alive—says something when your girlfriend's protective father owns a shotgun," Damian quipped as he grinned at them.
"Wait, so it's official now?" Noel asked, following Damian as the prefect and Patrick prepared to board the car. "You and Charlotte, I mean?"
"Apparently yes," Damian smiled as he opened the passengers' side door, beating Patrick to it and receiving a glower from the other boy. "Charlotte said yes, and her parents…sort of approved soon after."
"You're on a roll," Diana grinned.
"We're still in a bit of a mess, though," Damian answered as he sat. "Darren was apparently in there breaking the rules."
"What rules?" Patrick asked as he got into the backseat.
"The ones where there should never be any proof, and that no one should ever say anything. He told Charlotte's parents about the Twins' party, and how crazy Jefferson is. They're not going to tell administration, but Charlotte's dad says that if she doesn't pass the new student academic assessment, she's going to get moved to Adams House."
The expletives that came out of the other's mouths could make sailors blush. Patrick looked like he was going to explode, so Damian added, "All right calm down, calm down. Charlotte's parents were all right with this. I told them that nothing goes into permanent records."
"That's right," Diana muttered. "Or we'd all kiss the Ivy Leagues goodbye."
"I don't want war against Adams," Damian warned. "I know the Twins must've guessed—it's the only reason they'd run out of here that fast. I'm going to keep them back when we get back to Hawthorne."
"What the—Darren fired the first shot!" Noel shot back. "No one ever tells! Ever! Even Adams and Washington know that! Geez, didn't you tell me that before Felix took over Washington, it got into trouble just like Adams and Jefferson? That big mess with—"
"Noel, just—just get back into your car, all right? We'll talk about this back in the dorm." Damian sat back sighed. The "Hunter" frowned and just turned, striding back to his Impala, clearly annoyed. It was amazing to Damian how far he'd come, seeing as how Noel didn't approve of Charlotte being in Jefferson to begin with.
As Diana started up the Porsche, Damian added, "Darren's really pushing me."
"If you're looking for people to stop you from pushing back, you are in the wrong car," Patrick retorted.
"I can't fight back right now—I've got to worry about Charlotte. Darren got us good this time. If I don't find some way to curb Murdoch, and let's face it, he's the only one who'll actually pull Charlotte's score down, Charlotte will end up in Adams. I don't want that."
"We'll find a way," Diana assured him. "We did it for Noel."
"Don't remind me," Patrick put his head into his hand, before glancing back to the Impala following them. "I never want to have an exorcist over ever again. And all the things he had us do before letting us into his room—I hate garlic now."
"Yeah? You weren't the one who made the mistake of asking what the pig heart was for," Diana answered.
Damian shook his head. "And the day had been windy, so Chaz banned wind chimes from Jefferson not long after, since Noel kept screaming about the presence of demons."
-8-
Charlotte arrived at campus next day in her Navigator which had no room for passengers owing to the incredible amount of things she had to bring along, most of them having come from her trip to New York and her Christmas presents. Unlike the first time she had come to school, when she had this sense of uncertainty, she felt almost relieved to see Hawthorne's gardens and architecture again.
Maybe it had something to do with the fact that the house was crammed with tension after Henry sat her down and had the long-awaited and long-dreaded "talk". Alex had evacuated the house in record time. Ellen's presence and input only made things even more awkward during the talk, but Charlotte was nevertheless grateful for their need to have to bring this up, completely unnecessary though it may be.
From the moment she reached the gates, she noticed a crowd of young teenagers peering into the courtyard hopefully, clutching glossy photographs, notepads and pens, craning their necks and straining to peer past the bars. As Charlotte went into campus, she saw who they were all, apparently, waiting for.
She did a double take when she passed the young woman in the skin tight blue dress, leather jacket, hair professionally done and smiling as she spoke to the few allowed inside, and she was scribbling into their notebooks. Charlotte finally recognized her when she flashed one of them the smile that she'd seen before.
It was Juliet Larson, the young actress who appears in a TV show, and a movie or two. Upon recognizing her, Charlotte nearly hit a potted plant and had to stop when she realized that she was staring in amazement. What was she even doing here?
It got odd when Juliet suddenly glanced up, as though sensing someone was looking at her. She saw the stopped Navigator and saw Charlotte through the windshield. And she flashed her the smallest, knowing Cheshire smile remarkably reminiscent of the Twins'.
Baffled, Charlotte drove on to Jefferson. Upon coming in to her dorm once again, she found one of the reasons why she missed it.
With so many Pipers in Jefferson, it wasn't unusual to hear people break out into song every now and then. One of the boys had once began singing such an incredible rendition of "Kiss From a Rose" to their girlfriend over the phone that the other Pipers ran up to him and actually provided him backing vocals (it was reported later that the girlfriend cried). Ever since people found out Grace could sing solo, they encouraged it by singing along when at one time she had her headphones on and was singing to "It Takes Two" from Hairspray (Grace also cried).
Today was no different.
As Charlotte pulled her baggage into the doors, other Jeffersons were still settling in, just like she was. And then she heard, as everyone just kept moving in and having a good time, Diana start a melody from upstairs. She didn't actually sing any lyrics—it was a harmony. It was this familiar, catchy melody, and after she started the first line, Patrick joined in on the second, using the same wordless melody, simply making sound and harmonizing.
Other Pipers, on the ground floor, looking upstairs, and those upstairs, were starting to grin. In the next pass, they all began joining in to the melody, creating a seamless sync.
It was only after a couple of the Pipers started to beatbox to the music that she realized what they were "singing"—Jefferson was echoing with the sound of "Trashin' The Camp".
The Twins, from the mezzanine rails, joined in the bridge melody as they snapped their fingers to the beat, and soon all of Jefferson was ringing. Grace was twirling around the second floor hall, singing along happily with the rest of them.
The rest of the Jeffersons were grinning, listening and grooving along to the Pipers as they continued to sing. Charlotte started to grin as the Jefferson conspirators sighted her and smirked as they sang, motioning for her to join in. Charlotte laughed and shook her head, but got roped along as Grace grabbed her hand and pulled her into the fray.
The students sang and Jefferson rocked to the beat, the song name all but too appropriate as the others aimed to settle back into camp and subsequently prepare themselves for more things to come. As the song faded out, it was met by scattered applause and laughter, as the Jefferson Pipers pieced off again to return to whatever it is they were previously doing.
Charlotte turned as an arm suddenly slipped around her waist and she met Damian's smiling eyes. "Welcome back," the prefect said.
"Let's hope I get to stay," Charlotte responded with a smile. She slipped her hand onto Damian's and remained there. The Twins scoffed with matching smirks.
"Wow, it's barely been a couple of days and you two are already PDA-ing in the halls," Lucas sighed dramatically.
"You should be ashamed, Damian!" Logan said in mock rebuke. "You know that such displays are forbidden!"
"In the academic buildings and the open grounds? Yes. But I didn't read anything about all this not being allowed in the Jefferson House rules." Damian grinned, pulling Charlotte just a little bit closer, enough for the others to take notice and erupt into snickering. The girl turned scarlet and peeled herself off him for a moment, but she kept their hands together.
"You're the prefect, you make the rules!" Grace remarked, smirking.
"I may have chosen to purposely overlook a few," Damian admitted, smiling at Charlotte.
"Very funny," Charlotte replied, raising an elegant eyebrow. "Let's not get me into any more trouble than I'm already in. I'd like to remind you all that most of the reason why I'm behind in the workload is because all of you make it nearly impossible to focus for more than an hour." She picked up her bag and her suitcase and headed to her room. The others, predictably, followed her.
"And it promises to become even more tedious!" Charlotte added as she walked. "What's going on? Is the school being used as a set or something?"
Grace looked confused as she walked with her, trying to help her pull the stroller bag but got her hand swatted away by Charlotte who didn't want her to get cut on the nametags. "What do you mean?"
"Juliet Larson is out in the courtyard!" Charlotte gestured. "You know, the girl who plays Helena from that TV show Something Damaged?"
The Twins looked confused. Lucas blinked. "Oh, so Juliet's back? I thought she was expelled."
"She goes here?" Charlotte looked at them in confusion.
"Yeah," Logan nodded, looking a little more serious as they stopped outside of Charlotte's room. "And she's one of Darren's henchmen. So watch out for her."
At the name, Charlotte suddenly turned around, eyes narrowed. She walked past Damian and to the Twins. "I think the one who'll have problems is Darren. Where is he? He and I need to have talk that's been too long in coming."
At the tone of her voice, Grace gave Damian a wide-eyed look and Damian immediately moved forward, pulling Charlotte back a little in caution. Noel, peering from his salt-lined doorway, lifted the sprayer slightly. "…I sense evil again."
"Yes, you are," Charlotte responded in the same hard tone. She looked back to the Twins. "Is he in Adams?"
"Charlotte—okay…take it easy—" Damian pulled her back towards the doorway that Grace had already opened. "You were the one who said that you didn't want to get into any more trouble, and for starters, picking a fight with the Adams prefect will get you into one."
Charlotte snapped, irritated, "Oh please, Damian, do me a favor and drop your feigned veil of virtue—you and I both know that when Darren got my parents into this, he's crossed a line."
"He has, and believe me, when—not if, when—I get the chance, I will throttle him. I won't even give you the benefit of getting to him first." But Damian put a hand on Charlotte's arm. "But we're both in trouble right now. If I don't get you focused on the assessment and Murdoch manages to get the drop on you, not only will I lose you to my enemy's House, but your father will kill me. Do you see where I'm coming from?"
"He's being a pain, I'll give you that…" Charlotte sighed, shaking her head and entered her room…and stopped.
Grace stood in the middle of the common area, grinning broadly, opening her arms. "What do you think?"
The room had been redecorated. While it retained the chief features of old-world beauty that Jefferson was so known for, and even if it was half covered in padded, soft things for Grace's half of the room, Charlotte had to marvel at the change. It was in white, with great sensitivity with the use of pale tones of blue, and the fabric in the room gleamed with silver.
"What happened?" Noel asked, poking his head in and frowning at it all. "It looks like a penthouse! It's fluffy and cloudy!"
"I'm sorry if my aesthetics irritate your desire for the "Addams Family Funeral" look," Grace mumbled, looking stung.
"It looks great, Grace, don't listen to Noel," Charlotte shot the spiritualist a look before going over to her friend, giving her a hug. "So the one padded to extreme levels is your end?" She looked around. "It…looks a bit smaller than it used to, though." She blinked, and realized what it was. The third area, where another bed was supposed to be, was blocked off by large carved panels. "…is this even allowed?"
"They give us free reign in our rooms as long as we can pay for any damage and restoration," Damian shrugged in answer, already knowing what was going on.
"Yes, yes," Grace grinned, heading to the partition. "I remember that you and I had an understanding. About my closet." And she pushed the partition open.
It took a few moments of stunned staring into what might have been fashion Valhalla before Damian finally smiled with great patience and took Charlotte's elbow. "Let's go sit down…"
"But…" Charlotte couldn't stop staring, and Grace was giggling behind the shelf, trying to keep herself upright and nearly knocking over a decorative bell.
"Let's go…come on, let's get you unpacked…" Damian patiently pried Charlotte's fingers from the partition and led her away with a smile on his face.
"But…!"
"Charlotte," Damian gave her that smile that usually got to Charlotte. Finally, Charlotte turned away from the sight and allowed herself to be led away.
Jefferson was starting to feel normal again.
-8-
"I think you all know why we called this meeting," Lucas began.
"Without Damian…" Logan added.
Diana and Patrick were present, sitting in the living area of the Twins' room, along with Noel and Grace. It had been two tireless days since Charlotte had moved back into Jefferson, and the assessment exams were tomorrow.
All of Jefferson had worked very hard to do their part—in as much as they could. Of course they continued to pelt Charlotte with the morning coffee cups (this remained one of their favorite things to do, because no one reacted quite so furiously as Charlotte did, if the flying coffee cups were any indication). But they did try to tone it down a little. Drew hardly blew a doorknob out during this time.
The Twins cut back on their barrages down the hall, and if they did so choose to rapidfire paintballs at the occupants, they always skipped that one door in the hall. It was no wonder that Grace often took shelter in the room she now shared with her friend.
Damian, Diana, and Patrick worked with Charlotte, trying to help her catch up by trying to remember what the assessments actually were like since the last time they'd helped anyone through it. And that was with Noel, who was completely unhelpful in these matters—he barely remembered them. After taking Charlotte through an exam coverage that had absolutely nothing to do with mythology and American History, and more of why protection symbols should be tattooed onto the skin, the Jefferson triad bundled Noel out of the room and told him to go "purify" something and keep busy.
It was a couple of days later that, as the girl prepared for another fearsome studying session, Damian had gone out to the South and Main to track down some of the old versions of the assessment exams and get wind of the coverage of the new one.
This left the conspirators, Diana, Patrick, Noel, and Grace, in the Twins' room, plotting as they always did whenever there was a disturbance in Hawthorne that they themselves did not instigate. This was a benefit to both parties—Charlotte could study without the ambience of pandemonium, and the plotters could make their battle plans.
"All right, so Darren may have broken the rules," said Diana, frowning as they returned to a topic they had not broached for the past two days. "But Damian doesn't actually want us to start waging war. Everything's been quiet so far, and I think I'll have to agree. If we start anything now, we'll lose Charlotte to Adams and we'll have to put up with Damian's most melodramatic playlist." She sat up. "And I'm not talking about the I-miss-Charlotte playlist—I'm talking like last year. The one immediately post-Darren-and-that-girl."
Patrick shook his head. "I had no idea that there were so many relevant songs in the world. Ever."
"You can't blame him for that," Grace said softly. "And I don't blame you guys for storming there either. I swear I saw red when I first saw that bruise on Damian's arm!"
"All right, that's that—" Lucas finally said before Patrick and Diana could make an angry agreement. Logan gestured for quiet, leaning forward from where he sat with his brother. "Let's get to the point."
"Damian says no…" Lucas began.
"But we can say 'yes'," Logan finished.
"Who is we?" Noel raised an eyebrow.
"The rest of us," Lucas said calmly. "Damian is the acting prefect while Chaz is away. He'll be back anytime this week."
"So until he does," Logan said coolly, "Damian's little compass of virtue—which we are working on dismantling, by the way—will still point to let's-all-keep-calm. I'm betting that if he hadn't the responsibility to look after us, Jefferson, and Charlotte all at the same time, he'll be leading the charge."
"So we're going to do it for him?" Patrick stared.
"We can't let Darren get out of this unscathed," Logan answered with a frown. "We went after him, remember? He was completely unapologetic! He said that all he was doing was trying to help Charlotte, because "Jefferson is hardly the best place to start a newcomer into Hawthorne"."
"And Adams, Land of Pressure-Until-You-Snap is?" Patrick shot back.
"I'm telling you, if we want newbies to live long, Washington may be the place," Noel mumbled. "We uproot them when they're grown a little. Patrick sure survived."
But the Piper shook his head. "Oh if you knew what I knew about Washington…"
"Why?" Noel blinked.
"Can't say. Rules say no one tells. Washington is just a little stricter, s'all. Switzerland, remember?"
Lucas snapped his fingers, getting everyone's attention. "Hey! Come on, you guys. Peace or no peace, we have to get Darren back for this. Send him a message."
"Jeffersons do not, most emphatically do not, roll over and take it while Adams get to do as they please," Logan nodded. "So we hatched a plan."
Everyone leaned closer. Grace stared, eyes wide. "What…kind of plan?"
"A really really interesting one. And we called you guys, because you have influence and pull. If this turns bad, oh man, are we in so much trouble!" Lucas was jittery with excitement, barely able to stay sitting, his twin equally affected as much.
Noel narrowed his eyes at their excitement over what seemed like a plan of equal magnitude to taking down a Deathstar. "Is this a near death plan?"
"You can say that it's a near academic death," Logan said thoughtfully. "I mean, we're talking suspension, expulsion… all the nasty –sions."
"Then this involves breaking and entering," Diana started.
"Precisely, dear Hatter." The Twins cracked grins. "We're going to break into the Red Castle."
Grace was slightly less baffled than Noel was. This was only due to experience. "You've done that before. You've pranked them there before and have had some pretty close shaves. …I don't even know how you managed to get that many colored plastic balls into Adams House…"
"Oh no. This time we're going for something big. A real…feather in our hat, should I say." Lucas grinned.
"It'll be breaking a rule right back between houses, but…if Darren knows what's good for him, he won't charge us for anything," Logan said somberly. "He'll understand when he finds out what we're about to do."
"What are we going to do?" Noel asked suspiciously.
The Twins grinned, their Cheshire smiles never more pronounced.
"We…are going to go steal their precious, prized pet canary... Caruso."
A/N - If you're wondering about the Pipers' version of Trashin' the Camp, feel free to click this link and listen to your heart's content. ;)
|
|
|
Post by tonilous on Jul 3, 2014 4:23:27 GMT -5
That late afternoon, Damian closed the door and Charlotte looked up from the couch of her dorm room, looking deeply tired. All the glow in her skin was gone, and that in itself was staggering. Immediately, the prefect looked concerned. "Charl, how many hours have you slept?"
The girl seemed to give this far more consideration than what was comforting. "…counting yesterday?"
"I know you're making sure you pass, but there's no reason for you to do this to yourself." Damian sat close next to her, pulling away the notebook in her hands. "As much as I want you to pass this ridiculous thing, I don't want you fainting midway."
"Please—I'd rather keel over and give up a Tony award before I let that ogre of a Literature professor get the better of me—it's gotten personal now," Charlotte narrowed her eyes. "…okay, maybe not the Tony, you'll peel that from my cold dead hands. But you know what I mean."
"I do," Damian smiled. "Just don't push too hard, all right? For your sake and mine—I'm pretty worried about your father's shotgun skills."
"Thanks for leaving me by myself there, by the way—The Talk was such a comfortable discussion," Charlotte bristled, sarcasm dripping from her tone.
"Hey, if you felt uncomfortable, I would've gotten twice that if I stayed. I had to give that talk to Shane by myself and you don't know awkward until you've done that. I had to abandon ship."
Charlotte laughed a little. "I guess." She sighed and leaned against Damian, who put an arm around her waist. After a moment, Damian murmured, "…thanks."
"For what?" Charlotte blinked.
"Saying yes."
Charlotte turned red and glanced to the direction of the window. "You say that like we both didn't know it was going to happen…" She smiled a little. "When you sang "Your Song" to me, I said yes without you having to ask, you know."
Damian smiled a little as well, squeezing her hand. "It was just that…" he shook his head. "All this bad blood between me and Darren… You know I think on some distant level we both knew. It's just that everything that was happening around is…it made us not want to risk it that far by making it official yet. There was just too much bad history."
He looked at Charlotte intently. "…I said it before. You're braver than I am. When I heard you tell Darren that you…" he turned away and smiled to himself. "…when you told Darren that to his face…you have no idea how badly I wanted to kiss you right then and there."
"You should have." Charlotte smirked. "I for one wouldn't have stopped you."
"Oh, I know that now," Damian grinned. "But I didn't want my enemy having to be in the same moment. I'm trying to make my life in Hawthorne as perfect as I can manage it to be. I just want it different."
Charlotte was silent for a while, and then she sat up, looking more curious than anything. She looked at Damian and said, "Seeing as how we're now…official… I think I have the leverage to ask this right out. …what made you come to Hawthorne? What…what happened?"
Damian stared at her for a moment, then sighed and turned to the books. He closed took one of them in his hands, turning it over as he spoke.
"I was also bullied in my old school. I wasn't alone, like you... but some days were worse than others…and sometimes we got away with actually eating lunch before our trays were tossed back into our shirts. If it had just been me, it wouldn't have been that bad, I think. I could've really put up with it…but…there was someone else I had to protect."
Charlotte eyed him. "Your…girlfriend?"
Damian shook his head. "No. …I had to protect Shane."
Charlotte stared at him in surprise. Damian shook his head. "It's a really long story."
"I have time," Charlotte said immediately, looking intently at him. "I want to hear it. You sat and heard everything on my end. It's my turn to hear yours."
There was a pause, and Damian said, "You remember those photos over my desk…? The ones that didn't have Pipers? Those would be from back then. The photo in the middle…that was me, Shane, Minah, Erin and Jude." Damian laughed hollowly. "People who were okay with us teased us that we were the "Fab Five" because we were all different but... the bullies... they called us something else. And every time, they would just..." he let out his breath. Charlotte tightened her hold on his hand.
"Of those five…only me and Shane are left," Damian muttered. He shook his head. "…the bullies…they went too far with Jude. We don't know what happened, there was never really any proof, and it didn't even happen on school grounds… But we found out Jude was beaten, like a whipped dog, and left in some alley. He was too hurt when they found him—and he didn't make it."
Damian's eyes were misting over but he looked angry. "We couldn't…we couldn't help Jude! He just…he was there one minute and then he was gone. We were just at his funeral and staring at him."
Damian sighed and looked at Charlotte. "When I heard Fitzpatrick threatened you, I thought I was going to die when you disappeared during Noel's party. It just couldn't happen to me again. I didn't want that ever again."
Charlotte shook her head and just kept their hands together. After a weak shrug, Damian said, "After Jude was gone, that just left me, Minah, Erin and Shane. And Shane…you know how he gets, but he had so much secondhand abuse from the bullies that I couldn't… I couldn't stand and watch. I tried everything, I tried protecting him, I tried keeping a head up for him, I tried talking to administration—no one…really…cared. And that was after Jude died, everyone thinking it was an accident or a mugging.
"Erin couldn't handle the pressure, the thought that it could happen to any of us…so she moved. We still talk but…it's not the same. Then there were three. And I lived every day in fear that the school at large would find out that Shane and Minah were seeing each other... You'd think that it shouldn't matter... but kids are rough. And when two people that just seem so vulnerable and easy to push around get together... it makes it such an easier target."
Charlotte looked startled. Damian nodded. "Shane…you know what he's like. He lets everything, his emotions, get the better of him. He thought he was desperately in love with Minah and yeah, for a while, they were. He just puts everything in everything. But he wasn't careful about it… I was happy for them, but their safety was at risk. It was that bad.
"…and then Shane started bringing Minah back home. And Charlotte, if you thought it was bad at school, at home was worse. Ever since news got around about Jude, my dad became this... angry man. I feel like he knew to some extent that Shane and I were bullied... but it didn't matter. He always said that it was our fault that we were getting bullied. He's not too fond of anything remotely leaving his comfort zone... so Shane and I had to keep an appearance at home. Mom never said anything. As though it'd go away if she didn't say it out loud."
"Your mom—" Charlotte stared.
Damian shook his head and just looked down at his hands. "…Dad came home early one time. Minah was in our house, kissing Shane on the couch, if you can believe it. I told them a million, million times—don't do things in the house. In our house. I don't know what got into them. But Shane had just ducked into the kitchen, and Minah was on the couch practically half dressed, and I came downstairs just as dad came in."
Charlotte was white in shock, hand at her throat and staring. Damian nodded. "I had a million scenarios, you know, of how I was going to finally just stand up to my dad. Never in all that did I imagine I would end up saying that Minah was my girlfriend, and that I brought her home... You'd think this wouldn't matter... but Dad had it in for our group of friends. He never approved— he disliked Minah the most."
Damian managed a forced, bitter laugh. "It was the worst and best moment of my life so far. Me, explaining how Minah and I had been dating forever! All the things we did. And in some really weird way it felt amazing to finally just tell the truth. I felt…out. It just felt like I could breathe.
"And all the time, from behind dad, I could see Shane in the kitchen, looking dead white and horrified and I could tell—he wanted with every bone in his body to come running out and tell dad that it wasn't true, but I just looked at him and shook my head. I knew what dad was capable of. And someone as emotional and downright sensitive as Shane will never live it down."
He licked his lips nervously and laughed a little. "And Minah? She disappeared. Never saw her again—maybe dad threatened her, I don't know. But it broke Shane's heart and I lost my friend.
"It got really bad at home after that. I was the eldest, so…I kind of had a lot riding on me. We fought a lot, until we just ended up not talking for a while, and every day, Shane would go up to me saying that he really wanted to take some of the heat off me by telling dad the truth. That it was his fault. But… that only would've made things worse. It's bad enough that one son disobeyed him… What would Dad do to me and Shane if Shane did the same, too? He'd probably think I 'contaminated' him. Shane wasn't even the favorite—I had been."
He waved it away, "And so…after things at home got bad… I started to crack under pressure in school…Before, I could take comfort that I could be alone at home, where Shane and I would be safe. But after the incident…it wasn't good anywhere. Something just…had to give. And that something was me."
He let out his breath in a long sigh—a breath that carried the weight of the world and an immeasurably heavy heart. "…so I ran. I just snapped and I ran like crazy. I…went to Hawthorne. I practically demanded to board. I couldn't stay at home, at my old school, one more minute. I couldn't take everything anymore. I ran. I got too scared, it got too hard…I just up and left Shane alone…because I couldn't handle it all anymore. I had to come here, Charlotte. Courage couldn't save me."
He was starting to weep. It was the worst to him, Charlotte saw; the fact that he left Shane to fend for himself. She took Damian into her arms, pulling him against her and pressing her lips into his hair. Damian didn't cry, he only let the hot, angry tears fall in silence. As though he refused to crack again. His armor was perfect. But that armor wasn't on him as a knight—it was on him to protect him from the world.
He put his hand on Charlotte's arm. "…don't. I really don't want to do this anymore. You've got enough—"
"I want to," Charlotte answered fervently, holding him even tighter. "You've had enough. You've had more than enough. You've held it all together—for your friends, Shane, and me—so for godssake, let someone else hold you together for a change. And let it be me for once."
Damian held Charlotte in silence, and his grip tightened for one moment of weakness. "…I want to be selfish. I want to be selfish just once—just for this—you. And I can't let Darren have his way—you'll see something terrible come out of me the next time he tries, I'm telling you that now. I don't want you to ever see it, but at this point, I think it'll happen. I can't lose you, Charlotte."
"Rein it in," Charlotte smirked a little. "I'm not going anywhere." She moved so she was now directly in front of him, never more serious in her life. "Listen to me. Hey!" She snapped her fingers to get Damian to look at her. "Listen to me. All that—it's never going to happen again. Do you understand? I won't let it happen again. I'm not…I'm not your damsel-in-distress, and for that matter, if you treat me as one, I will throw you into the fountain." She smiled just slightly. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. And you better not either."
She held his hands tight, leaning their foreheads together. "…no one's running. We've got this."
Damian just smiled. He lifted Charlotte's hands to his lips and kissed them tenderly. "…may I ask? When did you get to be this perfect?"
"Didn't you hear? I was born that way," Charlotte's smile grew into a grin. Damian laughed softly, leaned forward and closed the distance between their lips in a long, slow kiss that Charlotte returned.
As he released Charlotte, whose eyes remained closed, Damian murmured, "Well…don't ever let anyone convince you otherwise."
"Trust me," Charlotte smiled a little up at him, "never going to happen."
-8-
Every year, through private caucus, the Pipers select a particularly excellent Piper—someone whose talents and efforts deserved recognition—to be given a most unusual honor: and that was to become the caretaker of a real canary. The incumbent canary of honor, Caruso, was something of a novelty; a canary that had a lineage that went many generations back, and clearly someone whose Legacy far outweighed most students in Hawthorne today.
Caruso had been given to Darren last year for his excellence in leading the Pipers as their lead singer. The little bird now resided in a beautifully crafted cage that hung from an elegant golden stand that resided in the anteroom on the third floor. Unfortunately, that anteroom—which became almost a small common room—was led to three other doorways, two of which were Darren and Derek's. Care needed to be taken.
Normally, breaking into Adams House wouldn't be that much of a challenge to the experienced twins, but after having broken into Adams approximately eight and a half times and with Darren expecting retaliation, they had to admit that security was good.
The Twins returned from their spy mission with disappointing news to those assembled in the common room. They made sure Damian was out of the way by convincing Noel to get the acting prefect out of the House for a short while. While Charlotte was in Jefferson, such a task proved to be a challenge, but Noel rose to the occasion by taking some bright red paint and painting a huge enchanted sigil onto Damian's windshield, claiming that he was purifying it from demons.
That got the prefect's attention pretty quick, and as far as anyone knew, Damian was still running after Noel at this very moment.
"They've got new latches in their windows…" Lucas reported importantly to the conspirators. "Their door locks have been changed. And thanks to some extremely generous contributing, their room doors now need keycards."
"Key cards?" Patrick snorted. "What are they, the CIA? Not even the Teacher's Quarters have keycard locks."
"You only have yourselves to blame," Grace rebuked from where she was nursing a stubbed toe—her second within the last six hours. "You broke in so many times that they've taken drastic measures."
"I'm pretty sure that their security cams are fake…" Logan murmured, looking contemplative. "But I can't be sure. Overall, we'll need the opinion of an expert."
Charlotte, from where she was curled up on the couch, going through the exam scope for Biology and Environmental Studies, frowned. "So at the rate you're going, you're not experts?"
"Oh Alice," Lucas said with a kind smile. "You flatter us."
"But really, the person we're talking about…" Logan nodded, almost melodramatically. "He's the Mycroft to our Holmes. He would've been amazing, if only he had the physical drive and ambition as we did."
"You're talking about breaking into Adams House—which I totally disapprove of, by the way," Charlotte frowned. "Your "ambition" is clearly to get expelled."
"Please don't tell your Rabbit, Alice!" the Twins begged, piling themselves onto her and she, in turn, swatted their hands off with her book. "Don't tell him—he'll be such a wet blanket about it all—"
"I'm not going to tell Damian—let go of me!" Charlotte glowered at them and ran a hand smoothly over her hair to make sure it remained in perfect condition. "But this is only because whatever it is, Darren will have it coming for once." She frowned into her book again. "…I can't believe he told my parents all those things."
"You sure you don't want to come with us during the break in?" Patrick grinned, relishing the fact that their newcomer wasn't completely opposed to this idea, meaning that her transformation was almost complete. "You can give him comeuppance yourself."
"No, I'm not interested in committing a crime."
The Twins looked at each other, and then grinned at her. "How about meeting the Caterpillar? You've been here a while and you've never met him. You really should. He's interesting."
Charlotte glanced at them, raising her eyebrows. The Twins only ever named people they were particularly interested in with Wonderland names. "…Caterpillar?"
-8-
Charlotte had never been to the upper floors all that much. Jefferson was an edifice of five floors, but she had never gone past the third because she had no reason to. As far as she knew, they were all the same anyway.
The fourth floor was a quiet place that looked a little less beaten by crazy antics than the lower floors. Some doors had students' names on them, others were empty rooms. She followed Grace and the Twins down the hall until they reached a door that wasn't wooden and completely unalike the rest.
It had no latch, no knocker—it was a white, metal panel with a black rectangular LED screen on the door. They hadn't even properly approached it when the rim of the screen turned red, flashing urgently. The Twins smiled. "He knows we're here."
Charlotte stared at them suspiciously, but the screen suddenly flashed and words appeared.
WHO ARE YOU. "Tweedles," the Twins chorused happily, almost on autopilot after so many times.
A pause. And then:
NOT YOU. THE OTHER TWO. "He can see us?" Charlotte said disbelievingly.
YES I CAN. "Come on now, you know Grace," Lucas grinned brightly. "And Alice! You've seen them before."
"He has?" Grace stared, looking a little afraid now.
There was another pause. And then the screen "spoke" again.
WHO ARE YOU. "Didn't we just tell whatever this…thing is?" Charlotte snapped, looking irritated and realizing that she apparently hadn't quite gotten knee deep into Jefferson's crazy yet.
"He wants you to say it yourselves," said Logan helpfully. "For voice identification."
Charlotte and Grace looked at each other. Charlotte rolled her eyes, but Grace came forward good-naturedly. "Grace Van Kamp! The Dormouse!" she said to the screen. She elbowed her friend after.
Charlotte sighed deeply and decided to humor the situation. "Charlotte Summers." The Twins and Grace looked at her with expectant eyebrows, and she glared back, but she added, "Alice."
Automatically, the door began to hiss, shooting a powerful stream of thick dry ice mist from under its bottom slat. Charlotte and Grace jumped back, nearly into the twins, as the door slid sideways and provided entrance into a dark room, dimly lit with many glimmering squares within.
The Twins readily stepped inside. The girls hung around outside, clearly unwilling, so two identical arms shot out of the door and pulled them into the cold darkness. As soon as they stepped inside, the door hissed shut. There was a moment of silence—and the sound of someone shuffling around in the room.
"A little light, please," Logan said patiently. "Alice and the Dormouse aren't used to you, Han."
"Oh, right," came a voice that sounded a little flustered. There was more shuffling in the room, someone bumping into something metallic, and finally, lights rose, fluorescent from above. Charlotte stared around her in shock.
There was a carpet of smoke on the ground, and it came from tubs of dry ice that flanked what must be a massive computer. It had a tower of data storage next to it, and there had to be more than one of its kind in the room. The room itself was almost nothing like the living areas in the rest of the dorm. The sleeping area had been reduced to a futon on the ground, right next to what had to be thousands of dollars worth of gaming and animation paraphernalia.
"Sorry it's so cold," came the voice from earlier. "But it's the only way I can properly keep all the systems cool—I mean they'll totally overheat if I don't—the air conditioners just don't cut it sometimes…"
Charlotte looked around to find the source of the voice, and her eyes finally rested on a young man pushing away a shelf that blinked with a multitude of server lights. His dark hair was cropped close and he was wearing a white shirt covered by a massive wool jacket. He looked at them through glasses that nearly hid away brown eyes.
"Alice," said Lucas happily, "Meet the Caterpillar."
"Hey," nodded the boy. He stumbled to them, tripping over wires on the ground for a moment, hand extended. "I'm Han Westwood."
Charlotte shook hands with him, staring in confusion. Han shrugged. "I don't go out much. I like it indoors."
"We…can see that…" Grace murmured at all the computers. Some were playing music, some movies, others doing odd processes that involved a great deal of scripting and coding.
"You have to get out more, Han," said Lucas plaintively.
"All this radiation is making you glow," Logan added.
"Hey, the world is your playground; it just so happens that the internet is mine." Han picked up a nearby can of Mountain Dew and popped it open. After a drink, he looked at them calmly. "So you want to break into Adams House?"
"I'm sorry—how did you know that, you weren't even there?" Charlotte stared.
"I have sensors that pick up pretty awesome things from time to time," Han smiled a little. "Come on, I'll show you." He walked to what may be the "throne"—it was a huge cushioned chair that sat behind no less than six massive flatscreens that were connected together.
Han's glasses reflected the light from the screens as he sat. He cleared his throat and pulled on a headset, and then began typing. From one of the screens, he clicked away a window that was playing Misfits and pulled up a grainy view of the Jefferson common room.
Grace stared with wide eyes, nearly tripping over a cable. "Hey!" Han protested. "Watch it—you'll interrupt my download!"
"You have this whole House bugged?" Charlotte demanded, scandalized.
"And some parts of the school, but don't tell anyone," Han muttered as he typed rapidly, posting something onto a website. "I mean, I did bug the place, but I don't actually look through the footage unless I really hear something interesting come on." He tapped his headset. "And even then, I hardly listen. I have a hundred thousand mp3s, flacs and podcasts—I don't need to hear ordinary conversation about how Derek is killing a varsity team again or how you and Damian made out on the roof deck in New York. Whatever you guys do down there—it's not really my thing." His last sentence curbed the look of murder Charlotte was giving the twins, who looked angelic.
"But you heard that we wanted to break into Adams?" Lucas raised an eyebrow.
"Certainly," Han responded smoothly, saving photos as he spoke. "Because that, Tweedle, is interesting." He suddenly pulled up a screen that had a good view of Adams House. From the height of the angle, Charlotte suspected it came from a lamppost.
"We need to get into their locks," Logan said plainly. "But they've changed into keycards after we broke in the last time."
"Ooh…" Han was smirking, typing rapidly and clicking away with his mouse at a speed that made Grace wonder why the mousepad was not on fire. "Bad move, Adams. Keycards, huh? Hey Summers, pass me that box on the shelf next to you."
Charlotte saw the box easily—it was in blinding video game colors—blowing some dust off it and gingerly handing it to him. Han took it from her and popped the lid open, pulling out a gadget that no one recognized, until he also took out a handful of plastic cards of various decors. Grace realized what the machine was for. "You're…going to give us copies of their cards?"
"Uh huh…" Han was typing very quickly and then he connected the machine onto his computer. He worked with a strange program for a few moments. "So we need codes… Let me just see if I can find a backdoor into the system on Murdoch's—wow, that was easy. Come on, Adams, this is not security; this is an invitation. So!" he made a few clicks. "You need to get into the anteroom where Caruso is kept."
"Who's Caruso?" Charlotte asked, puzzled.
"A very special soon-to-be House Guest," Logan said happily.
The machine on the desk blinked green. Han smoothly picked up two cards and swiped them through the machine twice. Then he swiveled to the Twins, pushing up his glasses. To Logan he handed a green Mario mushroom card. "This mushroom will get you in the maintenance door at the side of the House." To Lucas, he handed the red Mario mushroom card. "And this will get you into the anteroom."
"Bear in mind, that while I may or may not have put Darren Wright's room code in those cards, I'm not responsible for what you choose to do to him," he added with a smile.
"Thank you, Han," the Twins grinned, holding their mushroom cards.
"Hey—a deal is a deal." He shrugged. "You keep my headquarters here under wraps, I get you things." He now looked at Charlotte. "You know, I can download the exam for you, so you know what's coming."
Charlotte gave him an incredulous look. Han blinked, disconcerted. "What? I can."
"Pass," Charlotte responded airily. "I can handle this on my own, thank you very much. And you bear in mind, that if you have bugged our rooms and you look into our room, I'll know about it and come up here, and we'll have a repeat performance of what I did to Tabitha."
"Hey, I don't look into other peoples rooms," Han replied, hands up to her, blinking a little anxiously. "They leave me alone, I leave them alone. Unless I hear bloodcurdling screaming which means someone's being murdered, I won't look. And trust me, I've saved the House a couple of times from some serious fire damage. Chaz owes me big time."
"All right, we will get along, then," Charlotte smiled.
"Awesome. Now all of you leave so I can get back to my fielding some fanwars on my thread."
-8-
The Caterpillar, as it turned out, really was a recluse. He was never otherwise seen in Jefferson. No one actually talked about him, and Charlotte began to assume that maybe only the Twins ever did actually see or talk to him. Everyone seemed to know his existence—"Han? Yeah, he really likes his internet."—but they didn't think that his reclusive behavior was anything to worry about.
Charlotte didn't have so much time to dwell on this, as the next day was the day of the exams. If Murdoch's side comments during classes were any indication, she really needed to focus on her studies.
In the end, however, when Damian saw the light beyond her half open door well past midnight, he knocked gently and entered to find Charlotte sound asleep on the couch, face pressed to a notebook. Grace was sprawled on the plush carpet nearby, with a half finished artwork, fingers stained by pastels.
Damian smiled. He went in and turned out the overhead lights, lighting the golden lamp next to the couch instead. He very gently lifted up Charlotte, making sure not to wake her as he lifted her cheek from the notebook. The spirals of the spine left marks on her cheek and he had to stop himself from a letting out a laugh. He moved the notebook away and replaced it with a cushion.
As he did, he glanced at the pastel art that Grace had made. He stopped a moment, and gave it a closer look. It wasn't a complete drawing, but he knew those curls, and the intensity of the eyes that Grace had captured perfectly onto the paper. The eyes that looked up in wonder that very first time that Grace had ever met him.
Damian studied the sleeping girl on the carpet and wondered if Grace did hold something for his brother beyond the confusion. She had wept when Shane left without knowing why, and didn't that say anything? Grace's fingertips rested just at the edge of the half-drawn lips, sleeping innocuously. Maybe Grace was trying to figure things out still.
Damian turned back to Charlotte gently putting a hand to her cheek. "…Charlotte?" he whispered carefully, seeing if she could still be awoken. He put his hand on her shoulder. "Char…?"
The girl stirred. A flutter of nymph lashes. "…Damian…?"
"You shouldn't sleep here…" Damian murmured carefully. "You'll catch a cold…"
"Mm…" the discussion was a lost cause. Charlotte was falling asleep again, and Damian no longer had the heart to wake her.
As he moved through the room to pick up the two girls' comforters, Damian was completely unaware that just outside, in the hall, four figures slipped stealthily past. They moved soundlessly down the hall, towards the window in the alcove at the end of it, lifting the latch silently.
The window opened. Wind whistled lightly through the branches of the trees that they leapt onto—only two looked truly graceful, like cats, even as they bounded over the branches. The other two were less agile, but followed steadily with sure footing.
These four shadows took a last glance at Jefferson before turning around and heading for Adams House, windows all darkened, in the distance.
When Damian left Charlotte's room, after making sure that both girls would stay warm, he saw the open window. He felt a little puzzled, but assumed it must have been forgotten. He closed the window, unaware that in the House just within view, a card decorated with a green Mario mushroom slid through the lock of the maintenance door, admitting the four figures in.
As soon as the four slipped in and the door closed silently, the Twins' figures crossed the short hall and peered into the largeness of the Adams entrance hall. They never needed to speak to one another, and both moved immediately.
As they passed the entryway to the kitchen, Diana took one look in and shook her head. "Adams House has a serious obsession with coffee."
"I heard that if you wound an Adams, they bleed espresso," Patrick remarked with a grin.
"Shh!" Lucas hissed, eyes glinting as they reflected the faint light. "This way."
It was risky enough—Adams House was awake past when most normal people would be, mainly because more than half of them were still studying with great effort. The trouble with Adams House was that a vast majority of its occupants were incredibly willful, driven, and absolutely talented, more so than in other houses. As a result, they could be quite competitive with one another, and always strove to return with excellent grades.
This was something that happy-go-lucky Jefferson wasn't quite prepared to adapt.
The second floor began to make things complicated. It had been dark, but just as the group arrived at the landing, an Adams student emerged from a door and was in the hall, carrying a stack of photocopies. The student looked up when she heard the noise that resulted from the Twins, Patrick, and Diana crushing themselves into a pile on the other end of the mezzanine.
Puzzled, the student walked towards their direction. It was dark enough everywhere, but they couldn't risk being seen at all.
"Oh crap!" Diana hissed as the student approached. Lucas quickly started to fumble with his fanny pack, and Logan grabbed the item from him. It was a massive jawbreaker. The Tweedle twin then made a dramatic throw, much like a pro baseball player, which sent the jawbreaker flying through air, into the darkness, and onto the stairs, pounding noisily as it bounced down. This caught the student's attention, and he went to investigate in that direction.
Exhaling in relief, the troop immediately fled soundlessly down the hall. They could see their quarry already—the door at the end of the hall. Logan took out his red mushroom card and swiped it into the lock, but nothing happened.
"What the?" he hissed.
"Maybe it was too fast—try again!" Patrick hissed.
The second swipe still failed. The student was coming back upstairs. Logan hissed what might have been a curse or an incantation over his card, before swiping it again. The lock turned green. The others disappeared into the room, the door closing just as the student came up.
The quarry was at the windowed side of the anteroom. Caruso's pretty cage was covered with a cloth, to prevent the bird from getting disturbed as it slept. The Twins approached it very gingerly. They were aware that if they moved the cage too much, the bird might wake, chirp or sing, and the game would be over.
With great care, they began to lift the cage away from the hook.
A small, rather unafraid twitter sounded inside, and the four froze.
Derek's door opened, and the varsity captain glanced around, certain that he'd heard a bit of a commotion. He had always been a light sleeper—he had been ever since he woke up to being completely covered by what must have been glue and feathers thanks to one time the Twins decided to break in.
He saw that the anteroom was empty.
With no reason to look at the bird, believing it to be perfectly safe, he walked out of the anteroom and into the hallway, just as the Jeffersons, Caruso in tow, disappeared down the stairs. But just to make sure, Logan threw a distraction.
Derek looked up as a jawbreaker bounced up to his feet. He bent down and picked it up, feeling more apprehensive by the moment. But before he could head downstairs, the maintenance door had opened, and the conspirators were flying back to Jefferson.
-8-
The day of the exam rose, along with a general exclamation of surprise in the common room. The first few students who woke spoke hearing a little bit of song and peered in to find the noteworthy bird in the common room, with a pair of very happy Brightmans downright spoiling him by loading its feeding tray.
While Charlotte was mildly fascinated by the sight of the golden cage that had been so dramatically revealed in the Jefferson common room, Damian looked furious.
"What did you do?" he demanded, gesturing to the bird. "You stole Caruso from Adams House?"
The bird twittered a response to him that sounded more amused than anything. Charlotte peered into the cage with a frown. The bird responded by giving her a chirp that acknowledged the green-eyed girl. Charlotte glanced back to the way Damian was glowering at the Twins.
"I want to know exactly what went through your heads," Damian said, glaring. "Because pranks like water balloons and glue and feathers are one thing, but stealing the prize canary is something else. If Pentland and Gregor hear about this—"
"They won't find out!" shrugged Lucas.
Damian's fingers were pressed to his temples in frustration. "All right—that bird? Everyone knows Caruso. And everyone knows that Caruso was given with a whole lot of pomp and circumstance to Darren. And as far as I can tell, Adams is pretty proud of that. And they're not going to take the fact that you broke into their dorm again—how did you do that, by the way? They've got key cards, and please tell me that you didn't get Han to hack into their security—"
"Well Han was more than happy to…" Logan said thoughtfully.
"Adams is not going to take this lying down," Damian snapped.
"Oh no," Patrick shook his head, arms crossed over his chest. "They wouldn't dare. Like you said—stealing Caruso is insane. And Jefferson doesn't pull out insane unless it's particularly deserved."
"The Adams will start to wonder why we pulled this one," Diana explained. "Stealing Caruso is like calling for World War III—and when they ask, Darren can't tell them why."
"Wait." Charlotte turned away from the little bird and looked at them. "Why can't he?"
"Hawthorne House rules," Grace said, rocking on a bean bag chair, feet tucked under her. Her face was still streaked with some pastel. "No one tells. Anything. Ever. Darren broke that rule when he told your parents things. And not even Adams will appreciate that."
"Derek'll get pissed off for sure," snorted Patrick. "Because Darren will have to tell him that Jefferson retaliated because he broke a rule—just to get you back from Damian."
"Get me back?" Charlotte echoed, the note of righteous fury starting to fill her voice. Noel backed up immediately, clutching his talismans. Charlotte stepped forward to Patrick almost menacingly, "When was I ever his?"
"Whoa—easy!" Patrick backed to the piano in the common room, staring at her. "I didn't say that!"
"I'm not a trophy!" Charlotte snapped, turning to look at Damian. "What will it take to get him to understand that? He's got to stop doing this because I'm really starting to get sick of it!" she headed for the doors and flounced out, striding into the open.
"Charlotte!" Damian ran after her. As he reached the door he turned back, pointing at the Twins. "Caruso had better be alive when we get back—if Jefferson kills that bird, heads will roll!" And he ran after Charlotte.
He reached the other girl just as he got halfway to the Main. "Charl! Charlotte—wait."
"Why?" Charlotte asked indignantly. "He doesn't seem to be waiting, Damian! He's playing us like we're chess pieces and he has to be stopped! He's acting spoiled, petulant, and let me tell you something—I will not stand here and let him get in the way of my own life!"
"I won't let you confront him like this when you're angry," Damian snapped back. "Because Darren is running around unmedicated. If you blow up in his face, I guarantee you he'll push back."
"Then I will tell him to take his freaking medication!" Charlotte retorted, pushing past him. Damian caught her arm in a powerful grip, pulled her back, and pulled her close tightly against him in such a way that Charlotte could barely move.
"Damian!" she cried, trying to get free.
"Stop, okay, just stop." Damian's tone was quiet, firm, and final. He wasn't letting go. Charlotte stood, fuming, glaring at him, but Damian never batted an eye. "Stop thinking about him, Charlotte."
"Why not? He's helping himself with interfering with my life as we know it."
"And right now, you're playing right into his hands."
Charlotte stared. "What?"
Damian pulled away slightly. "Think about it. You're angry. You're going to go out there and confront him. You'll ruin your composure, your focus, and most importantly, the exam. And then you'll land into Adams' hands. And he gets what he wanted—you. In close proximity." Damian raised his eyebrows. "Don't underestimate that guy. He likes getting what he wants."
Charlotte leaned her temple onto her fingertips, looking frustrated. "I told him myself. You heard me tell him. Why can't he just get it in his head that you're the one I…" She shook her head.
Damian embraced her, kissing her cheek gently. "I know. And don't worry…he knows. …and that's why he's doing this. He just…can't stand to not get what he wants." He gave her a nudge and smirked. "You know what'll really sting? If his plan doesn't work out. If you pass, you stay with us."
Charlotte glanced at him and sighed. She clenched her fists but did not throw them. "Fine. I'm still going to throttle him for this right after."
"You are more than welcome to after—and I'm going with you," Damian said with a smile. "Darren should realize that we're not going anywhere."
"Yeah…" Charlotte nodded, holding his hand. She shook her head. "He just…he just has to be made to understand."
-8-
The rest of the day passed in a blur of tests, papers, questions and answers. By the time Charlotte staggered out of her last exam, she realized that it had been a good idea to listen to Damian. If she had gone ahead and confronted Darren before all this, it would have been physically and emotionally impossible to complete all this hoop-jumping she had to go through. The other two new students who took the exams looked even worse than she did.
She had the opportunity to think when, at one point, she got absolutely stuck at one fearsomely complicated calculus problem. She had the chance to think about what she wanted to do or say. As time passed, she became calmer, and she remembered why Darren didn't take his medication. She got worked up earlier, and it made her forget that Darren didn't like his medication because he was looking for a reason to feel. Everything else was simply collateral damage.
"When I'm numb I just don't feel happy or sad, even when you're there. This me, Charlotte—this is who I really am. And I'm sorry that I'm a terrible person when I'm not medicated, but the truth is—but the truth is this is the me that's horribly, ridiculously in love with you and I just can't do anything about it!"
Charlotte shook her head as she leaned against one of the shelves in the hall. Darren knew what he would become. It's just that he started to stop caring. He just wanted to feel—the way everyone else did. Even if his rage became dangerous. It was something he could feel.
And he hated, most of all…the fact that he couldn't feel anything even when Charlotte was near.
I can't be the reason for you to change, Charlotte thought to herself as she pulled her bag up. It's not right for me to be. …because I just don't think I can help you the way you want me to.
"Hello."
Charlotte nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw Juliet in the hall, smiling. Hair still done and uniform perfectly unkempt, the celebrity said, "I'm Juliet. And I know you from Darren's pining."
Does everyone in Adams know? Charlotte turned red, frowning at her. Juliet saw her expression and just smiled in the signature way she had perfected over countless photo shoots. "Come with me."
"What for?" Charlotte asked, wary.
"You're looking for Darren, aren't you?" Juliet answered with a smile. "I heard you and Damian in the grounds. I'll take you to him."
Charlotte remembered the warning given to her—about whose side Juliet was on. But at this point, the only way to stop all this is if she went to enemy territory. Juliet was already walking. Charlotte managed to send a surreptitious text to Damian, telling him where she was.
To her surprise, she saw Juliet leading her to Pipers Hall. "You're a Piper?"
"No," Juliet said coolly. "I already have single out. I don't need it." She motioned for her to come closer. "Look."
Still suspicious, Charlotte nevertheless approached and peered into the door. There wasn't much to see, but she could see two figures sitting on the piano bench. Charlotte recognized Gregor in a beautiful flowy dress, sitting on the left, but her hands were not on the piano.
Darren's hands were. He sat next to her, blazer already shed, and playing a song, which he was singing to.
Something always brings me back to you.
It never takes too long.
No matter what I say or do I'll still feel you here 'til the moment I'm gone.
At the first lines to "Gravity", Charlotte felt a little startled. She had never heard it sung quite that way before—in a manner that seemed so unlike Darren's usual colorful voice. He kept playing anyway.
Set me free, leave me be. I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity.
Here I am and I stand so tall, just the way I'm supposed to be.
But you're on to me and all over me…
And suddenly, Gregor made him stop.
She turned to look at him, a little concerned. "Darren… what's wrong?"
"…what do you mean?"
That soft tone. Charlotte had heard it once before. It was in Central Park. When he had looked and felt so numb. Juliet noticed her recognition and said, "He's really trying, Summers. He knows he has to take the medication from time to time… He doesn't like it…but he does anyway."
Gregor said to Darren, "I just don't…well… You know how your songs are just filled with emotion sometimes…? It's not here now, Darren. You're singing it for the sake of singing it. You don't…feel it."
Charlotte turned away. She didn't want to hear this. "What color does Jefferson paint of him, Summers?" Juliet asked coolly with a smile. "Pretty bad, huh? It's not a wonder you look bewildered to find he's human…"
"Why is he in there with Gregor?" Charlotte asked by way of diverting the topic.
"Trouble back at Adams. Somehow we lost something important—a real live bird. And for some reason, Derek is furious. Because the blame all points to Darren, and something he did that "wasn't worth destroying himself for". I don't know, maybe he took it too hard. Darren took his medication soon after that. He told me he wanted to go here. And…try. Or something. Try to sing? Try to remember? Try to forget?" Juliet eyed her as she said softly, "Do you think…he's trying to forget you, Charlotte?"
Charlotte swallowed and said nothing, starting intently at Darren at the piano. Juliet continued, "Anyway…Gregor heard him and got worried…so she came in."
Gregor still looked concerned. "Can you sing the bridge for me? And this time, please try, Darren. You can do better than this, I know you can."
When the music resumed, Charlotte found herself inside the room, walking to the boy on the piano. Darren's emotion, and the color of his voice with it, vanished with the medication. He lost himself entirely. And this was what he was trying to say all along.
Darren raised his eyes and saw her as he played. At first, he looked a little startled, and Charlotte recognized that haze in his eyes. Charlotte shook her head, gripping her bag, with an expression that urged him to sing—to sing the way he used to that first time she crossed the room and met him at the same piano.
He missed his cue. Gregor glanced up to see Charlotte, but she just smiled a little and turned to Darren. "Try again," she said amiably.
Darren looked from her, then to Charlotte. Charlotte stared back, and for a moment, as Darren began to play, she thought she saw a spark of life return.
I live here on my knees as I try to make you see that you're everything I think I need here on the ground.
But you're neither friend nor foe though I can't seem to let you go.
The one thing that I still know is that you're keeping me down…
That song. This was why Darren wanted to go Pipers Hall. He was trying to feel through song. It made Charlotte wonder if that was what he was doing the first time she met him.
And now, with that small spark of life he gained, Charlotte finally heard Darren sing again. It was a weak comparison to his real talent, but he was trying. He was really trying.
Gregor still didn't look pleased. She knew fully well what Darren was capable of, and this was not it. He needed something else. Something more. She dug through her folder, and carefully pulled out a song.
"Darren…can you try this one?" She then rose and looked to Charlotte, handing her sheets. "If it's all right…can you sing with him for this one? Because…I'm just a little worried. He didn't sound like himself."
Charlotte, already holding the sheet music, couldn't say no. But Darren himself said, "Charlotte might not feel comfortable with this." The look he gave her made Charlotte realize that Darren knew what he had done to her. That he had struck the low blow. That he had acted out of desperation.
And for the love of all that is good, please leave and never come back.
Charlotte sat next to him on the piano, surprising him. She hated being put in the middle like this, that was true enough. She wanted to hate him, she wanted to scream at him. She wanted everything for his being such an interference and for being so manipulative. For hurting Damian. Hurting himself. Hurting her. And everyone else.
But when you're that lost…you needed someone to pull you to a safe place. Darren had wandered too far in, and now no one else seemed to want to come pull him back even a little bit. Darren would always be alone, fighting his own battles, looking for a lifeline that always seemed to snap at the worst time. And Charlotte, who knew how that felt, couldn't bring herself to hate him for that at the very least.
She couldn't give him love. But she could be there. Just for a while.
So she dove in.
"…I'll sing it. With you."
Darren looked at her with a strange expression. Charlotte looked back at him without fear, without concern. "…I promised you I'd help."
The hazel eyes began to grow a bit clearer somewhat. Without a word, he stared to her—in gratitude? Respect? Downright shame? Whatever it was, it made Charlotte turn away and back to the keys.
Under Gregor's eye, Darren now began to play. He sat just a hair's breadth away from Charlotte's skin, the two of them not looking at each other as he began to sing.
Everyone's around, no words are coming out
And I can't find my breath, can we just say the rest with no sound?
And I know this isn't enough, I still don't measure up
I'm not prepared; sorry is never there when you need it
And I do want you to know
I'll hold you up above everyone…
Gregor's expression spoke words of amazement without a sound. Even Juliet came in from where she was lurking by the door. Darren was singing again. Just like that time before—when he could sing because he found someone or something to sing to.
Charlotte's smile threatened to tug at her lips, but she pushed it down, tucked it away, in a place far from this, where she began to sing with Darren.
…And I do want you to know
I think you'd be good to me
And I'd be so good to you
Charlotte took the words now, turning to the black and white keyboard. She closed her eyes.
I thought I saw a sign somewhere between the lines
But maybe it's me, maybe I only see what I want
and I still have your letter, just got caught between
Someone I just invented, who I really am and who I've become
The two of them glanced at each other just once as they continued to sing:
And I do want you to know
I'll hold you up above everyone
And I do want you to know
I think you'd be good to me
And I'd be so good to you…
I'd be good to you, I'd be good to you,
I'd be good to you, I'd be so good to you
I'd be good to you, I'd be good to you
I'd be good to you, I'd be so good to you…
The song trailed away. Gregor stood staring at them both in amazement, the two who sat at the piano, hands on the keys, fingers so close yet not touching. She had heard Charlotte sing alone, and sing with Damian. She had been wonderful both times, but there was something different when she sang with Darren, something new.
It was awkward, hopeful and something terribly sad. As though they had disappointed each other in some distant way, as they sang together in a time that they could never come back to.
She looked down at her setlist, and back to them. Carefully, taking the sheet music from the stand (the two paid little attention), she murmured, "This…this isn't anything final—we're still having long deliberations but…would you consider singing this…for Regionals?"
-8-
Damian came out of class and found Patrick and Diana by the couches, waiting for him. He smiled at them, and glanced around the way he always did, hoping to sight Charlotte and ask how her classes went. Charlotte wasn't around yet, but her exam should have finished already.
He was about to pull out his phone and call her, when he heard someone yell.
"Damian!"
He looked up. To his surprise, he saw Han and Noel. Han looked white in the face, and Han equally horrified. They were running desperately to him. Han was holding a printout and a phone. Noel's hands were shaking when they reached out and touched his arms.
And when Han spoke, Damian understood little beyond a terrible cold coming over his entire body. That dread that filled him with immeasurable horror.
Damian… Han was speaking to him, Damian—I saw this…on the web…
Where was this breathlessness coming from…?
It hasn't reached us yet—and—and it just got reported in…
Noel was shaking Damian, trying to get a rise out of him. Say something, Damian—!
…that a mountain climbing party had vanished…after a rock slide…
That flash of color as Grace walked in at entirely the wrong moment…
…Damian…your brother…he was one of them...on the list…
Damian closed his eyes and sank to his knees.
A/N: Hans Westwood has now been added to the character list on Page 4
|
|
|
Hawthorne
Jul 3, 2014 13:01:03 GMT -5
via mobile
Post by HburgEagle44 on Jul 3, 2014 13:01:03 GMT -5
This whole section. Absolutely perfect and wonderful. There may have been tears.
|
|
|
Post by tonilous on Jul 4, 2014 3:54:07 GMT -5
Hawthorne Paint
The Jeffersons were gathered in the common room, all of them sitting or standing around the couch, all eyes trained onto the widescreen screen on the wall. The news of the accident had spread like wildfire, with mobiles going off in the halls, with messages that sent them all ducking back to their House where their acting prefect had run to the instant Han and Noel gave him the news.
The Twins looked uncharacteristically serious, staring at the screen and waiting for the news to come on. They had all seen the bulletin whizz by that said a news segment would speak of the accident. Noel was nowhere to be found, but Diana and Patrick flanked Damian from where the acting prefect was standing by the window, the phone at his ear and fingers pressed to the bridge of his nose, looking as though he were holding himself down again.
"Yes…tell them it's an emergency," Damian muttered, with great patience in his voice. "…I know. Tell them it's Damian. And that Shane's been…he's had an accident up in the mountains and—and it would really help if they knew about it. Yes, I know—thank you." He hung up.
"Don't tell me," Patrick stared at him in disbelief.
"Still out at some business dinner, party, or something," Damian answered as he crossed the room to the couch. Everyone immediately made room, Grace vacating the spot in the middle that she'd saved for him. Damian's hand shook just slightly as he put his phone into his pocket.
"This is ridiculous, your parents can't be out of contact at a time like this!" Diana burst out.
"Would you like to give it a try?" Damian whispered in a very restrained tone that implied danger if Diana continued to state the obvious. Diana just shook her head and turned away. Damian only ever got testy when he was really stressed at any rate.
The program blatted on in the television, Damian hardly paying attention as he sat lost in thought. At that instant, the doors to the common room flew open with Charlotte running in, flushed with running. Damian immediately rose and moved to her as Charlotte hurried to him and held him tightly in her arms.
"I just heard—I'm so sorry I wasn't—" Charlotte flustered, holding him tight.
"It's fine," Damian murmured, hugging her tightly in return, clearly more tightly than he'd wanted to show. "It's—I don't have other news yet. TV hasn't… Han's working on it…" He just shook his head. He glanced up slightly, and gave a small start.
Darren was standing at the doorway to the common room. Patrick saw him and rose. "What's he doing here?" he demanded.
"I'm right here, I can hear you," Darren muttered.
"He heard the news," Charlotte answered, looking at Damian. "We were talking to Gregor in Pipers Hall. He—" she glanced at the other prefect. "He followed me."
Damian felt a little confused at this, and Darren could only shake his head as though he wished he could explain as well. The Twins stood in front of Caruso's cage nonchalantly, shielding him from view, but Darren just rolled his eyes at this. "I know you took Caruso and he's right there. I can hear him chirping." He sighed. "Besides, you distracted Derek with a jawbreaker, the thing that you embedded into a snowball you threw at him during the storm."
The little canary made a tiny chirp as though in answer, or maybe in approval—no one was ever sure, and the twins looked at each other sideways awkwardly. "…oh."
Charlotte glared at the twins before she looked at Damian and hugged him one more time. She led him back to the couch to have him sit down. "Have your parents said anything?" she asked.
"They're unreachable," said Damian, looking intently at her and holding her hands. "But I left a couple of dozen messages that even they wouldn't ignore."
The common room received another outsider when Felix came running in, breathless. "I just heard from the Washington Pipers! Damian—I'm sorry to hear it; I came here as soon as I could…" He saw Darren and did a double take. "Oh. Hello, Darren. Didn't expect you here."
Darren rolled his eyes. It was at these moments that he really realized how unusual his being sympathetic for any reason was. It was a testament to his reputation.
The small speaker sitting on the table next to the couch crackled with static, making the people near it jump. Han's voice came out of the speaker, proving that the Caterpillar was again at work. Charlotte had always wondered what it was for, and she realized that it was Han's means of communication to the outside world.
"Pipe down, guys. News is coming on…"
And at the cue, the news segment finally aired, with everyone in the room staring intently at the screen. Damian kept holding onto Charlotte's hands as they both watched. The segment itself wasn't very long, but it was all they had right now.
The newscaster reported that six teenagers from the Walcott School had set out on a mountain climbing trip some days after the New Year, with only one or two of them being actual members of a mountain climbing club. The rest had come along for the excursion, hoping to experience camping at high altitude. A rockslide had been reported not long after the boys had gone on their trip, and since then nothing has been heard from the group, who failed to return on their designated day.
This meant that the climbers had been missing for over twenty-four hours as they spoke, and search parties were being sent out to find the teens who must have been in a serious accident, as their severed climbing cords had been found near where the slide occurred. Searchers are combing the rockslide area for any signs of life or bodies.
The parents were currently being alerted, but for purposes of identification, the missing teenagers were all shown onscreen. Charlotte felt it when Grace, pale and shaking, sank onto the couch next to her the moment Shane's photograph—smiling with his classmates—appeared on the screen. Damian's hand shook so much that Charlotte had to cover it with her other one.
All in all, this was almost too much for Damian to look at and there was almost relief in the room when the segment ended with the newscaster claiming to make more updates as they come in.
As soon as the news segment ended, the speaker crackled again.
"Just so you know, I'm still tracking the news as they come in. I'll keep you guys updated. Hey Tweedles—come up here and get the walkies. So I can update you guys if anything important comes up. Damian, I'm going to keep looking. I'm…I'm really sorry about this."
"What for, it's not your fault…" Damian answered, but the tone was so monotonous and rehearsed that Charlotte realized that he must've been saying this exact line so many times that it ceased to mean anything except an automatic response.
The prefect got up and walked out of the room, Charlotte following after him and holding his hand, making to head upstairs. They passed the two prefects, Felix patting Damian's shoulder as they went. Darren watched the two of them, their linked hands, as they left without even glancing at him. He lowered his gaze as they passed, and then glanced to the twins.
The twins only blinked back at him curiously, and Darren muttered, "Take care of Caruso, or Pentland'll have a fit." And he simply left. As he walked through the foyer, he took out his phone and punched in some numbers. He wasn't far enough for Felix not to hear him say, "I'd like to talk to him. Yes, this is Darren."
Felix looked puzzled, and then turned to them. "All right then. Better get cracking. We've got to do what we can, yeah?"
"Whoa, whoa!" boomed a sudden voice from the foyer, moving towards them. "What's Darren doing coming from—why is Felix—" and then the voice reached them, "What's with the air?"
Everyone turned, and even Charlotte and Damian from the upstairs landing turned to look at the sound. A tall boy was standing at the doorway, dressed in a varsity t-shirt for the Hawthorne Kings. His foot had a bandage but he didn't have a crutch, and he still had a neck brace. His brown hair was unruly but his cornflower-blue eyes looked kind enough. He looked at everyone, bewildered at their stunned expressions.
"…what? Your prefect comes back and I don't even get a hello?" he said in disbelief at the succeeding silence.
At the sight of the senior downstairs, Damian suddenly looked deeply relieved. "Hey Charlie," he said with a great sigh. "Welcome back." He gestured to all the other students as though passing back the responsibility in its entirety. "They're all yours."
The Hawthorne students stared as their rightful Prefect gave them a puzzled expression. And with that off his mind, Damian pulled Charlotte back upstairs, heading into the hall.
I'm Charlotte. And this is Hawthorne Academy.
No one was prepared for the news—least of all Damian.
Everyone seemed to take it hard, proving that Jeffersons look out for their own.
Jefferson knows better than any other place when it comes to handling a crisis.
…mostly because it was often their fault.
And now Charlie, the real prefect, is back.
Which means that Damian has nothing else to focus on but this.
"What do you mean, you stole the prize canary?" Charlie exploded, and everyone in the common room winced. After Charlotte and Damian departed, Charlie herded the rest into the common room for explanations and to be briefed on the ongoings.
"We told you…" Patrick winced. "It was because Darren told Charlotte's parents—"
"Who the heck is Charlotte?" Charlie demanded, now looking more confused than ever.
"Alice!" the twins answered.
"Who the heck is Alice?"
This was not the best way to start off catching their prefect up. Like the prefects Darren and Felix, Charlie Amos had the thrilling job of looking after all the Jefferson House boarders on a closer level, unlike the Burkhart who was more of a class adviser than anything and wasn't around as often. Jefferson being the way it was, Charlie often had more problems to resolve—and cover up—than the other two House Prefects did. And he had been doing all right as well, until the Twins gave him his accident.
Diana groaned and buried her head in her hands as the Twins cheerfully added, "Alice is the newbie! She followed our White Rabbit and—"
Charlie waved them away irritably. "I wasn't talking to you two, I meant people who make sense." As the Twins bristled at the accusation, he looked at Patrick and Diana almost pleadingly. "How long a backstory is this going to be?"
"For starters, "Alice" is Charlotte Summers, the new boarder. Second, you were in traction for a while, Chaz, it's a heck of a long story," Patrick muttered.
"Well I have time now," said the prefect, frowning. "What's with all this air? Damian's the Acting—did you guys take it easy on him like I asked you to?"
The derisive snort that came from the speaker in the common room made everyone glare at it. There was a cough, "Oh, the speaker was on? Sorry. Not even here." The click punctuated this.
"Damian's brother Shane is missing," Grace said softly from one of the chairs. She was staring at her hands. "He went mountain climbing and there was a rock slide…" her hands were shaking—the way the coffee cup in her hands was shaking was the indication. She settled for putting it down. "I'm—going upstairs to…check on Damian and Charlotte and…finish my paintings…" She hastily left the room.
The Tweedles watched her go with raised eyebrows and look at each other. Charlie watched her go, astounded, and then flailed again to the others for explanation. "Again, something I'm missing here?"
"She…well, not exactly her—Shane was…" Patrick struggled with the words. "Well Shane showed up during Winter Fest and he looked…very taken by Grace. We don't think Grace reciprocates this but…I don't know, she just started crying after Shane left after the New Year party."
"…Okay… and on that awkward note—" Charlie wheeled onto the Twins. "It was your turn this year. What happened? Please tell me that you didn't destroy—" the deep sigh and guilty mutters all around made him made him stop midsentence. He sighed. He should have known better than to ask the Twins. "All right, screw this." He began to take off his neck brace.
"Whoa! Whoa!" Diana leapt to her feet. "Should you be doing that? Chaz!"
"You think I'm going to want all this plastic on me when you guys clearly don't know the definition of holding back…?" he dropped the brace to the couch. "And I'm going upstairs to talk to Damian. After all the torment of the past few weeks, he might need someone other than the new girl to—"
"No!" everyone chorused, dragging him back down.
Charlie, looking at all the hands on him, stared at them as though they'd lost their minds. "What's the matter with all of you?"
"Don't—don't interrupt them," Patrick flustered, gesturing with his hands. "Let them have their moment. Ah…we've kind of waited forever for them to finally…be official."
"Officially what?"
Diana said it in his ear. Charlie gaped at her, and then sank his head into his hands. "Oh man, I am so lost. There are just no words to explain my confusion right now. It's just not possible that none of you updated me all this time. I'm looking at you, Han!" Charlie yelled to the ceiling.
"Hey, I don't keep tabs on everyone's love lives!" the speaker protested. "I've got way too many episode marathons lined up for that!" The speaker clicked off again.
"What has Noel been doing all this time?" Charlie muttered without looking up from his pained expression.
"Generally still being him…" Patrick said thoughtfully. "Actually..maybe a little bit worse. He's convinced that Charlotte is cursed because of all the things that happen to her—"
"Then he better exorcise all of Jefferson if the basis is "things that happen"," Charlie said sarcastically. He cleared his throat and looked around at the other students, taking command by his air alone. "All right. We're going to sort out this mess. Patrick, Diana, give me the shortest, least convoluted rundown of everything that's happened. The others, I want you to do whatever you can to help Damian's situation. Surely some of you are connected enough to do something. And I want you to downright spoil Damian for the next few days. After everything you put him through, you better give back a little."
He turned to the twins. "And Caruso. Give him back to Adams House or heads will roll!"
"But Darren broke a rule!" Lucas protested.
"He told parents what we do here at Jefferson!" Logan supplied.
Being deeply rooted in Jefferson ways himself, Charlie paused, considered, and nodded, "Okay, fine, the bird stays for a bit. But keep it alive and don't keep him in the common room. Put him somewhere that Ann wouldn't see so easily." He clapped his hands. "Move! Everyone! And get this room cleaned up! Now!"
The students immediately scattered, ducking the elder boy's wrath, like cards flying from a deck. As Patrick and Diana talked to Charlie, the Twins approached Caruso's cage and gave the little bird a good long look, considering where to best hide him.
Then they both looked at each other and smiled.
-8-
A while later, Noel sighed and leaned back, grumbling. "No, actually…I'm still getting nothing from the pendulum."
"Maybe because that isn't a pendulum's intended use…?" The lightly freckled brunette on the other end was climbing shelves and pulling down dusty books, the "ancient library" interior contrasting with the Muse music blasting from the speakers. "I mean, are you sure you've want to do it this way?" She didn't often humor him like this, but it was a tender situation.
"Yes!" Noel shot back into the phone. "You know, I've done this before!"
"Noel, when you tried doing that before with your brother, it also didn't actually work well." It was the very blunt accusation, one that hit all the right nerves. "It didn't work the way you planned."
Noel steeled himself and glared at the phone. "Are you going to help me or not, Aimee?"
Aimee McKleenan sighed and pulled two more books down from the collection. She was Noel's go-to in Massachusetts for these things. As far as anyone knew, Noel maintained several connections all over the country. If they didn't know any better, they would swear up and down that the spiritualist was running a Supernatural-esque hunting operation.
"Hey, I have siblings too," she muttered into the phone as she flipped through the pages. "I know how it feels… So yeah, this is me helping you…"
"Thank you," Noel answered with a sigh. He had spent the last few hours sitting with a large map of the Colorado mountains, surrounded by candles, assorted rock crystals, ingredients, and one crystal pendulum hanging over the map. To the ordinary onlooker, he might have simply looked ballistic, but he knew what he was doing.
Or so he supposed. But when the pendulum failed to find Shane over the map, he decided to call for an expert. And he only knew one person in Massachusetts, and it would have to be Aimee and her everlasting patience.
This whole process was why Noel was not present downstairs. He knew what it was like to lose a brother, and he out of everyone downstairs knew that far better than he liked. The moment he heard of Shane's disappearance, he had run with Han to tell Damian the news—the way it should have been done to him years ago—and ran back to the house to use everything he had to find Shane.
He couldn't find Alan…not in time. But he had to find Shane somehow.
There was a heavy thump as Aimee opened a book, rousing his thoughts from places they shouldn't be straying to. After a few moments of mumbling, she said, "Okay…it says when you're looking for someone, it would very much help if you had something that can be directly connected to the person you're looking for. I don't know if it'll work with that crazy method of yours, but—"
"But I don't know the guy!" Noel protested, glancing at the ticking clock, knowing that time was crucial. "I don't have anything of his!"
With extreme patience, Aimee carefully spelled it out for him. "You mentioned being in a dorm with his brother...?"
"Yeah…" it clicked. Noel blinked. "Oh! …you think I should get Damian's blood?"
"Why does there have to be blood?" Aimee demanded incredulously. "Get a photo, a shirt of his, something!"
"Right! Right, you're right. One second, I'll call you back!" Noel hung up and tore out of the room in a flurry of cloth. He rushed out of the oak door and went scrabbling to Damian's door, slamming into it and knocking in a rapid, steady, unceasing flurry until it opened.
"Yes?" hissed Charlotte as she leaned from the door, clearly restraining herself from a comment so sharp, it could've eviscerated that insistent door-pounder. She saw Noel and frowned. "Noel—if it's more food—"
"Food?" Noel blinked.
Charlotte rolled her eyes and opened the door a little more.
The Jeffersons cope with stress in their own ways and they like to think that they are aware of how the person they're helping "cope" does it. This would explain Charlotte and the hundred-coffee-cup-plan that day they first heard her scream at Tabitha. Unfortunately, someone brought up the fact that back when Damian was struggling with Hawthorne academics, he kept snacks around his room so he could eat some while studying (and mainly, this was because when he studied too hard, he forgot to get food).
So somehow, it had gotten into all the Jeffersons' heads—and there was little shadow of a doubt which identical pair of people put that idea there, because surely Diana and Patrick knew better—that the way to help Damian was with food. Charlotte had left Damian's room for approximately thirty minutes, couldn't be more, but when she returned, Damian was absolutely surrounded with food—which ranged from fast food, to pastry, to full blown gourmet meals. The now ex-Acting Prefect didn't even have the strength to tell his well-meaning dorm-mates off and just let it all happen.
Charlotte sighed and rolled her eyes at the mess, and at Damian, who was sitting on his couch while talking silently on the phone with someone who sounded important enough for her to be quiet about it. Charlotte looked at Noel and motioned to the food. "Take one, I'm begging you."
"No, I'm here to see Damian!" said Noel immediately stepping in. "I need something of Shane's or relates directly to Shane."
"I beg your pardon?" Charlotte narrowed her eyes at him. "What for?"
"I'm searching," Noel said immediately. "I'm trying to find him over the map. It's not working. I need something of his."
"What kind of searching?" Charlotte asked, arms crossed and frowning at Noel. Really, at a time like this? Seriously?
"In this case, it's when you take a pendulum and hold it over a map and find someone—"
Charlotte wanted to strangle him and could only repeat the words that should have been Jefferson's house motto: "Are you crazy?"
"No…" Damian hung up with whoever he was talking to and got up. He gestured absently to Noel. "Give him what he wants."
Charlotte stared at her new boyfriend incredulously. "What?"
"Here." Damian tore a photo off the corkboard over his desk and tossed it to Noel, who caught it easily. Noel looked down at it and saw that it was one of Shane—just Shane, captured during a laugh that you could just hear coming out of the photograph—and he nodded. "Great! Thanks!"
And with that, Noel fled the room. Charlotte saw the door slam and she turned back to Damian, walking to him with a frown. "All right this is too much. If you're humoring Noel now, you have to sit down and calm yourself."
"No, if it's Noel it's fine." Damian sat down with a sigh. "You can…yell at everyone else for all this food, but you should let Noel do what he wants."
"Why?"
"Noel's probably the only one in Jefferson who'll understand." Damian leaned against Charlotte's shoulder without much hesitance. "His little brother Alan also went missing. Noel didn't know Alan was even gone—no one wanted to tell him—until he'd been gone for almost three days. Noel was in a relative's house when it happened. He was thirteen and Alan was seven, but they were very close. Alan was found dead—in the exact spot Noel predicted they'd find him in." Damian sighed. "…didn't do well for his psyche. So if he wants to do this for Shane then I say give it to him."
Charlotte got up and knelt in front of him, holding his hands. "Damian…that isn't what's going to happen to Shane, you know. Don't give up like this. You're the last person he needs to give up on him."
"I'm not giving up on Shane," Damian answered.
"Yes, you are. Look at you!" Charlotte gestured to him, and around the room. "And all this! You haven't given up yet, completely, but I can see you're starting to. You're…breaking down."
"I just—I can't…" Damian struggled to contain himself and failed. "I'm going out of my head here, I can't…lose Shane. I can't. I've lost everyone else from back then, and I thought I fought for my little brother—and in the end I ditched him. And now he's somewhere—"
"You did not ditch him," Charlotte reprimanded, glaring at him. "There was no ditching involved. You coming to Hawthorne was a matter of you finally breaking down. It was the last straw. The fact that you held on for that long—it says something when you feel you finally have to run. It happens to people! There's only so much a body can take before…" She stopped here, letting out her breath. "…you'd think after you got me out of my old school, you'd understand." She turned away, wondering how to best alleviate her worries.
Damian glanced at her and saw the frustration on her face. He smiled faintly and touched Charlotte's cheek, making her look at him. "…I'm glad you're here."
Charlotte gave him a tight smile, but her eyes never left his face. "…where else would I be?" Charlotte leaned forward and put her hands on his shoulders. "You're the one who wanted to go out with me. So now you're stuck with me."
Damian smiled and leaned his forehead on hers. "…I'll take it."
Charlotte leaned forward and kissed him briefly. Then she leaned back and said, "What did they say…the people you called?"
Damian shook his head. "My parents finally answered. Mom sounded worried…dad sounded angry… But they're on their way to the area as we speak. I…wanted to go, but they wouldn't let me. Told me to stay here. And wait."
Charlotte moved a hand through Damian's hair. "Then…we'll wait with you. All of us."
"I don't see why I shouldn't go and search with them."
"Because the last thing you should be doing is throwing yourself up those rocks." Charlotte frowned. "I'm pretty sure that it's still dangerous after that rock slide. And then we'd have two brothers in trouble."
Sighing, Damian leaned back on the couch, hand still dangling onto Charlotte's. "I guess you're right, but… I can't help it. I feel like I should…be doing something more than this."
"There's not much more anyone can do…even if your parents are there, they'll also just be waiting." Charlotte sat next to him again. "So let's wait. And…hope your crazy brother comes out of this in one piece."
Damian nodded. He twined his fingers through Charlotte's as he said, "Would you mind so much if you…stay here for the night?"
In spite of herself, Charlotte turned scarlet. "Oh… I…don't mind. If you really need me to be."
"Yes, I do." Damian wasn't looking at her, and clearly wasn't even reading too deeply about what he was saying, so maybe that was why he hadn't noticed Charlotte's expression. He glanced back to her and said, "Only if you want to."
"Oh…I do." Charlotte shrugged nonchalantly. Why was it this awkward now? And the situation—This reaction was completely uncalled for. It was for purely supportive purposes. She leapt to her feet, brushing herself off. "Well—I'll go…get my stuff. Bring it over. You just stay here and…" she looked around and saw nothing but food. She rolled her eyes. "…and eat, or something." And she hastily fled the room.
Damian, who had been leaning on Charlotte and had fallen into the couch when she'd gotten up, now watched her leave, a little puzzled by her alacrity. It was only then that he realized the implications of actually having his girlfriend stay in the same room as he is for a night. His face turned red and he groaned. "This is not the time for this!" he grumbled to himself.
He settled for turning on the television in the hopes of getting more news.
|
|
|
Post by tonilous on Jul 4, 2014 4:39:23 GMT -5
When Charlotte walked into her room, it was a welcome relief to find the neatness as opposed to the food-fiesta at Damian's. It was quiet and seemingly unaffected, but in the middle of it all, Grace sat in the central area, staring at one half finished acrylic painting.
And when she turned in surprise to look at Charlotte, her roommate stared at the sight of her paint-stained hands and the tear streaks mingled with paint.
"Oh Grace." She took a step forward and her foot moved a piece of rumpled art on the ground. She looked down and stared with a frown, picking it up. It was the half-finished pastel of Shane, and it was ruined. "What the—"
"I couldn't finish." Grace muttered almost dejectedly from where she sat, turning back to her work. "…when it's him…I never finish."
"What are you talking about? You gave him a painting in the airport."
"That wasn't finished either. He couldn't tell the difference, how could he?" She stabbed a brush into the canvas. "…I never finish." She made one black streak that outlined a curl, and her hand shook—and she stopped. She threw the brush onto the ground, pushed the canvas away—it fell with a clatter and she couldn't even bring herself to pick it up—and buried her face into her hands. She looked angry, frustrated, and more confused than ever.
"All right, you have to stop," Charlotte said, more severely than she intended as she crossed the room and to her friend. But in this case truly necessary. She shook Grace hard. "Look at me, Grace! Stop crying and look at me!"
"I...can't even breathe right now—!" the other girl choked, paint and tears running down her face. Charlotte muttered under her breath, pulling out a few of the tissues from a nearby box and wiping the paint away.
Grace swatted her away weakly. "The last thing I ever did to him—was reject him! He's—" she coughed, laughed bitterly and hissed at the same time, that confused jumble of sound being the reflection of everything she felt about herself at that moment. "—I might not have returned those feelings when he said them—but he fell in love with me and that's never even happened before! Do you have any idea how guilty I feel right now? It's not fair! Why is this happening?"
Charlotte ground her teeth. She put the tissues down and slapped Grace. It wasn't as forceful as when she did it with Darren, but it rattled the other.
Silence.
The other girl seemed to come to, staring at her, one cheek scarlet. The tears stopped instantly. Charlotte looked down at her, eyes blazing. "I'm sorry, but I had to do that. You were being hysterical. Shane. Is. Alive. Understand?"
This got a rise out of Grace. She had probably only needed to hear someone say it. "…I…" She blinked. "Oh, gosh, yes. What was I doing…?"
Charlotte reduced the harshness now that she had her attention. "Until Damian and I hear anything about a dead body, unless you hear anything from us directly, you're going to stop this crying—" she resumed rubbing away the paint from her friend's face and fingertips, "—you're going to stop scaring yourself senseless, and you're going to stop destroying your art!"
She grumbled as she picked up the canvas on the ground and put it in Grace's lap. "Hysterics, that's all it is." She swept the paintbrushes from the table and into Grace's kit. "We have to focus, all right? I know you're upset—frankly everyone in Jefferson is—but crying about it like this isn't going to help."
"Yeah…" Grace murmured, looking as though she just woke up. She fell silent for quite a long time, until she lifted her head, looking confused, "I'm sorry—when did you come in and why are you here again?"
Charlotte rolled her eyes and shook her head as she wiped her own hands, getting up from the carpet. "I wish I had your expression on tape right now."
The door to their room flung open, and Diana and Patrick were panting in the doorway.
"Hey!" Patrick gasped, clinging onto the doorframe as Diana ran across the hall to Damian's room to alert him. Patrick was holding up a walkie talkie—and Han's voice was coming out of it. "Got something here!"
"Hey," said Han from where he was ensconced upstairs. He was working rapidly on his computer. "Following the search party's progress real time through satellite—"
"How are you doing this, exactly?" Damian asked the moment he came up to them. Charlotte immediately moved to take his arm as soon as he did.
Han hesitated a moment before saying, "I…may have done a bit of creative hacking and 'borrowed' a spy satellite…"
At the succeeding silence, Han immediately added, "It wasn't like it's one of those aimed at another country right now, you know! And it was really quick, I promise. Like maybe a couple of minutes…half an hour at most…."
"I'm not sure whether to thank you or to hate you because now we're accessory to federal crime…" Damian muttered, pressing his fingers to his temple.
"Just tell us, Han," Diana said.
"Search party ran across some sign of the climbers. They found something at the bottom of a gorge. It was all ruined now, but definitely something one of the climbers might have dropped. They don't know what it is, exactly…"
The others waited impatiently.
"…but they said it was a small painting in a tube."
-8-
Midnight came and went with no news from the search parties other than the one Han delivered. It wasn't promising. No Jefferson wanted Damian to go alone that night, especially after the news, but Damian insisted that only Charlotte would stay. Since Damian was the boyfriend, he had precedence, but Charlotte had misgivings about leaving Grace alone. Grace, on the other hand, all but threw her out the room.
"For heavenssakes, Charlotte, leave," her friend had insisted, tossing her her things. "You think I want you to see me like this? Go—support Damian or something. It's your job to help him, not me."
So Charlotte went, but not without asking the conspirators to keep an eye on their befuddled friend. The Twins haunted the room for a while, until Grace booted them out for swordfighting with her paintbrushes. Diana and Patrick were also in Damian's room, helping him with all the food, until Charlie finally decided to get some order in the madness by telling everyone where to get off.
It had to be two in the morning when Noel heard the soft knock at his door. He never lifted his eyes from the pendulum that flickered in the candlelight, the only source of light in the room. "…s'open."
The door creaked open. "My roommate's asleep," Noel muttered.
"I know…"
Noel looked up and saw Grace hugging herself in the cold, wearing those odd pajamas that were too long in the arms for her. Her eyes were swollen. "…Can I stay here for a bit?"
Noel studied her a long while. He noted that Grace had crossed the salt line at the door with no problems, and it wasn't three am yet, so it was likely that it was actually Grace and not some other kind of being. He shrugged and gestured for her to sit next to him on the pillows on the ground.
Grace closed the door, sat next to Noel and put her arms on the table, peering at the map with glassy brown eyes, eyelashes still wet. "…what are you doing?"
Noel was still carefully moving the crystal pendulum over the map. His eyes bore evidence of someone who had not stopped doing this for at least six hours. "…looking for Shane…"
"With…a necklace?" Grace asked.
"Pendulum," Noel retorted, concentrating harder.
Grace watched the rather pretty crystal swing over the map. "…Pretty sure I saw this in a rerun of Charmed. You know they say this isn't how it actually works?"
"Shh!" Noel mumbled. "I found Alan this way, I'll find Shane this way. And I'm not going to stop until I do."
"Who's Alan?" Grace asked.
"…my kid brother."
"Oh…" Grace was too numbed by the hour to have a real reaction. She buried her head in her arms with a sigh. She didn't know what happened after that, but she must have fallen asleep on the table. When she woke up, Noel was still doing what he was doing, but there was a blanket around her shoulders.
"Did I fall asleep…?"
"Half an hour."
Grace studied the pendulum. "How long have you been doing this?"
"…since I heard the news…?"
"Why?"
"I told you. I'm not going to stop until I find Shane." He gestured without looking away to a photograph on the table. Grace carefully picked it up and saw Shane laughing in the photo. She smiled very faintly at the sight of him. "…when you're done…can I keep this?"
"No," said Noel sensibly, with all that incorrigible stubbornness that he was so known for. "When I'm done, we'll find Shane and you don't need the photo anymore."
He sounded so sure of the matter that Grace almost smiled. It was that manic sureness that she needed to hear, and though Noel's reasoning might be completely suspect, she decided to stay for a while longer.
-8-
Contrary to what Charlotte may have expected, staying in Damian's room for the night wasn't awkward. Everything was completely harmless. But they did share the same bed, and for a while, as they both lay there, leaning against the headboard with hands twined, both trying to sleep and finding themselves too worried to, there wasn't much either of them could do.
They waited.
Charlotte was sure she fell asleep first, listening to Damian breathe, because the blanket that covered them both when she stirred again later wasn't her doing. But she was awakened by music.
It was played low and softly, clearly in the manner of someone who didn't intend to be heard. But Damian was sitting on the other dais, hands playing his keyboard. His dark-rimmed eyes showed that he hadn't slept yet. And he was trying to somehow, in some way, occupy himself during that wait.
His music sounded as though it came from somewhere far away, just like the expression in his eyes.
Woke up this morning
And I heard the news…
I know the pain of a heartbreak
I don't have answers
And neither do you
I know the pain of a heartbreak…
Charlotte sat up a little, listening and watching Damian. He didn't notice Charlotte. It was hard to believe he'd notice anything right now.
Then confusion and the doubts you had
Up and walk away
They walk away
When a heart breaks…
Charlotte walked to him silently in the darkness. This made Damian look up for the first time. He realized that Charlotte was awake and looked as though he was going to stop, but Charlotte held out her hand and shook her head, gesturing him to keep going.
Damian smiled faintly as Charlotte now sat next to him, putting her hands on the keyboard and playing the music with him, their hands almost over each other's.
I heard the doctor
But what did he say
I knew I was fine about this time yesterday
I don't need answers
I just need some peace
I just need someone who could help me get some sleep…
Who could help me get some sleep…
Charlotte smiled a little as they continued to play the music together, Damian still singing. But he smiled at Charlotte when he looked up at her. He looked a little better now, and that smile got just that bit brighter as their hands touched over the music.
This isn't easy
This isn't clear
And you don't need Jesus
Til you're here…
Then confusion and the doubts you had
Up and walk away
They walk away
When a heart breaks…
The music trailed away slowly, and Damian leaned against Charlotte as he put his hands over hers on the keyboard. "…Sorry for waking you."
"It's a good thing to wake up to." Charlotte let him lean against her for a moment. "Feel a little better now?"
"A little bit," Damian nodded.
"No news?"
"Nothing yet…"
"Then come back to bed." Charlotte smiled, standing up and pulling him up with her. "If you're going to handle this, you need to think rationally. And rationality doesn't come without actual sleep."
It took a little prodding and convincing, but Damian finally gave in. When he fell asleep, he was staring at his corkboard of photographs, and it was impossible to tell if he was thinking about Shane or just everything in particular. He whispered to Charlotte in the dark, "When all this is over…I'm never going to think about it again."
"About what?" Charlotte asked.
She didn't receive an answer. Damian fell asleep soon after, with Charlotte following suit on the other side of the bed.
-8-
The sun was coming in through the windows the next day—detestably cheery. Damian was still asleep when Charlotte awoke and saw Patrick and Diana in the room, the Twins leaning by the doorway.
Diana waved slightly and made it clear to not wake Damian. Charlotte carefully moved away from Damian's sleeping form and walked up to the two. "What is it?" she whispered.
"Just checking." Diana glanced at Damian. "How's he holding up?"
"He didn't sleep until four am," Charlotte sighed. "I know because I didn't."
"Caterpillar says the searchers are going through the deep areas, hoping that the mountaineers just ended up somewhere out the way. They're hoping to find more traces of them." Patrick looked a little distressed. "Grace isn't in her room."
"She's in mine." Noel murmured, appearing at the doorway. He looked disturbingly heavy-lidded, his dark circles pronounced. It was the sign of someone who had not slept. "She fell asleep there."
"Burkhart told us to tell the Rabbit that he's not to go to classes today," said Lucas
"He can stay and wait for news. As far as we're concerned, we'd fly him to Colorado if we can," Logan added. "But you said that his parents didn't want him there?"
Charlotte nodded. "They want him to stay and wait. I suppose they have it under control…"
The walkie on the table crackled, making everyone jump. Damian's sleep was apparently set on trigger for that specific event, because he suddenly stirred as though startled.
"You guys," said Han. "Development. Damian, are you there?"
"I'm listening." Damian was rubbing his eyes.
"Number of search parties expanded, to cover more ground. Someone with some serious pull had sent in extra troops, it's almost like a small army. They've just arrived now."
Damian was surprised. "I…haven't heard of this." He was sure his parents didn't have that kind of particular leverage. He looked at the others. The other Jeffersons only looked at each other. None of them had sent the extra people.
Han didn't volunteer any more information. He only said, "Well…because of their number, you can expect news within the day. We're actually really lucky, that the mountaineers were missed early. We wouldn't have as much time as we do now. There's still a big chance they're somewhere alive. Hang tight." The connection crackled again as Han resumed his radio silence.
Damian looked at the others. "You guys should get to class."
"We can cut and stay with you," Patrick volunteered, but Damian shook his head. "No. Go to class. I'll…I'll be fine here."
"I can stay," Charlotte said, looking at him.
Damian looked at her a long moment, as though deliberating with himself. He must have clearly wanted her to stay. But in the end, he shook his head. "…I…think I need to be alone for a while. You guys should go."
Charlotte glanced away, nodding slowly. "…Fine. I understand." But she went up to Damian and kissed him. Damian kissed back, restraining himself from keeping Charlotte with him as she released him.
"I'll be here in five minutes at the instant something happens," Charlotte said.
"All right."
"I'm not going to class," Noel declared. "I have searching to do." And he swirled off again, returning to his room. He did say he wasn't giving up, and the Jeffersons, who could do no more than wait and prevail upon their parents to put more pressure on the search, almost envied his conviction.
-8-
No one could concentrate in class; that was evident. The professors who had the main conspirators as students noticed that they barely paid attention, and their phones were almost always out, waiting for news. After the second reprimand that should have merited confiscation, they just stopped telling them off altogether.
Grace didn't even come to class either—an inquiry to Han was answered with Grace in Damian's room, painting, and keeping the elder brother company (in spite of elder brother's insistence that the painter should go to class). They decided to leave her to it. Artists were odd, often sensitive people, and they dealt with things their own way—not all people would understand.
When the entire school talking about the accident and how their lead Piper's brother was missing in action, possibly dead, there was very low morale as the students whispered in the halls.
Felix looked very distressed as he spoke with Charlie, walking down the hall amidst the gossip later that afternoon of no news. "It's gotten Washington worried—so I can hardly imagine what it's like in your House."
"Well, it's not the bright atmosphere I was expecting—but they're rallying for Damian," Charlie nodded, still limping on his one injured foot. "They're trying to bury him in food, but I've put a stop to it."
"Never thought of Damian as the type who eats when stressed," Felix blinked.
"Oh no, he's the type who forgets to eat when stressed," Charlie shrugged. "Anyway, have you heard of anyone pulling some strings about this? Han Westwood told some of the others that a large contingent of searchers got sent up. I know Damian's family has pull, but not that kind. None of the other Jeffersons would account for it."
"Well no one in Washington has done anything either," Felix replied, puzzled. "Spencer Willis might have the influence—he's the one with connections to the Marines—but he hasn't told me anything about sending people. Do you think I should ask him to?"
"Maybe, if still nothing turns up," Charlie murmured. "This must be eating Damian up—I know he's got history."
Felix nodded and saw Charlotte pass them in the hall on her way to Piper rehearsal. She was met by Patrick and Diana, who seemed to immediately ask her questions, and Charlotte only responded with a shake of the head, looking pale and worried, glancing out the window to the direction of Jefferson House. Felix sighed. "The Alice is not taking it well either, I see. But seeing as how she's the girlfriend—"
"All right, why does everyone know the back story?" Charlie stared.
"We're an extremely chatty lot, I take it. But I haven't heard anything new all night. News?"
"None. But Han says we should expect some."
"That boy is a little odd," said Felix thoughtfully. "He's always in his room and barely attends class."
"Apparently his constitution is very weak," Charlie made a face. "Or that is, that's what his parents like to tell faculty so they let him stay in his room and pass digital homework. But he'll show up on exams."
"Well for now…he's very useful to the cause," Felix admitted. But mentally he questioned the rationality of everyone in the campus. Who else would be crazy enough to do these kinds of things anyway?
-8-
From Jefferson House, Noel was still hanging the pendulum over the map. He had not slept more than ten minutes. He probably knew every inch of the Colorado mountainside to the point that if he were given a sheet of paper, he could draw the whole thing out of memory. But he kept his vigil in silence.
On speaker on his phone, Aimee sounded tired. "Noel…give it up already. You can't be doing this for twenty-four hours, it's just not human anymore. It doesn't work like that. Pendulums don't—"
"Not yet!" Noel hissed.
"Noel—"
"Shh!"
Another ten minutes passed. And suddenly, Noel made a sharp intake of breath. To anyone else, it would've seemed as though he had merely started to nod off, and the pendulum struck the map on a specific spot, but to Noel—it meant a breakthrough.
"Aimee—Aimee!" He scrambled to his feet, knocking candles over. Hastily he stomped them out, but he was jubilant. "I've got it! I got the spot! I found him—I found Shane!"
Aimee sounded worried. "Noel—wait a minute, calm—"
"Thanks, I owe you big time—I can take it from here!" Noel immediately hung up. He circled the spot with a big red sharpie and tore the map from the table. He bolted from the room to find Damian and the walkie talkie that communicated with Han.
That walkie talkie was currently in Damian's room, where Grace was slowly putting down her paintbrushes. Her face and clothes were streaked in color and her fingers were cold and numb, shaking as she lowered her arsenal. Before her, on an easel, was a finished painting.
She smiled tremulously. "…I did it. I finished…" I actually finished…
Damian, standing behind her, saw the painting and smiled faintly. Grace had finished a painting of Shane. And it was the only finished artwork of Shane that Grace had ever done. And painted entirely out of memory, it was quite an incredible likeness. "Yeah. It's great, Grace." The painter only looked tired in answer.
Noel came crashing into the room. "Damian!"
Grace jumped and turned, stunned. "Noel?"
Damian looked stunned. "What's the matter?"
"I found Shane!" Noel gasped. "I did it—I found him!" He grabbed the walkie-talkie from the table, nearly tripping over a beanbag chair as he did. "Han! Han, come in! Can you hear me?"
The whine of feedback from upstairs made the recluse wince tear off his earpiece, and glare daggers at the impertinent voice coming from it. "Yes," he said in an ingratiatingly polite voice. "I can hear you extremely well."
"I found Shane! See? I did it! Can you see me, you crazy omniscient net-addict?" Noel was jumping up and down on the couch, flailing the map around to where presumably Han had a camera. Grace was panicking, warning Noel to stop or he'll fall.
"You have a camera in here?" Damian demanded.
Han just shook his head with sigh and put his hand to his head with a seething groan. "Noel, hold still!" In two rapid clicks, he'd gotten a freeze frame of the flailing map. "I got it, you can stop now."
Noel slipped off the couch and fell on top of Grace, sending them both crashing next to the coffee table. Damian pulled them both up as, from his room, Han now studied the coordinates that Noel had encircled.
"Noel, how did you find this?" he demanded. "This is already being combed by the searchers—Seriously, did you just throw a dart and—"
He stopped when his computer gave him an alert of a new message sent in from the searchers. He looked up at where the origin of the message was. He stared. It was coming from the square that Noel had encircled.
"…no way." He grabbed the headset and said, "Wait a minute, guys." He dropped the set and clicked on the message, and read it. His heart started to pound. He slowly leaned back.
Someone had been found.
But…
He licked his dry lips and opened the second message. It was difficult deciphering this all—he only had access to one side of the messages that went back and forth. But he knew one thing as his hand shook on his mouse.
Someone had been found. A boy.
And he was dead.
Han lifted the headset again, hands shaking. "Damian…I have to…ask you a question."
|
|
|
Post by tonilous on Jul 4, 2014 5:32:58 GMT -5
In unison, the Jeffersons' cell phones went off. Everyone, no matter where they currently were, pulled them out to see what it was.
Damian's not in the House. Have any of you seen him? Can't find him. –H
The conspirators looked at each other. Immediately, Patrick, Diana, and the Twins bolted off to search. Charlotte turned down the hall and hit "call" on her phone as she strode down, face white.
"Han!" she said the moment the Caterpillar picked up. "What do you mean you can't find him?"
"He's not in any of my screens. I'm trying to look at what I've got on the school, but I told you, it's not like I've managed to put bugs everywhere. Didn't even cover the grounds. I don't know where he is."
Charlotte put a hand to the side of her head, looking worried. "Why would he leave…?"
Han seemed to hesitate for a long moment. "It…may have something to do with what…I mentioned to him earlier."
Charlotte's expression immediately darkened. "…what did you tell him?"
Han looked deeply uncomfortable. "…from the exchange I was getting, some people were confused… From what I can get, someone had brought in a body of a dark-haired boy wearing this jacket from another high school… I…had to ask which high school Damian and Shane came from just to…make sure."
"And…?"
"Stanton. …the jacket was from the Stanton High School Dance Club."
Charlotte covered her mouth with her hand and sank into a chair, white in the face as she remembered the photographs on the corkboard—all the initials on the school was SHS. "Oh god…" She took deep breaths. "And Damian…?"
"He didn't answer me. He just…stopped talking. And then he ran out and—"
Charlotte hung up without so much as a goodbye, and she went running out of the school and into the grounds.
-8-
Partway between Jefferson and Adams, past an unfrequented garden path, there was a small memorial garden. There was a trellis crammed with flowering vines, and beneath it, a stone bench. It could hardly be called a memorial garden at all—at best it was just a place to sit that no one ever really went to. It had been out of the way, and rather forgotten, as it was in an awkward place, nearly jammed up against the wall of the school.
Damian sat on that bench now, leaning forward, elbows braced on his knees and folded hands pressed to his lips the way someone would kiss their hands in prayer—if he was even praying. He stared blankly into the ground, trying to breathe.
Everything was still cold. He could still feel his breath leaving him too easily—too calmly for his taste—for someone who should be out with the search parties no matter what the Jeffersons said in protest.
His brother was out there, somewhere. It didn't matter that they found Grace's painting at the bottom of a gorge—it didn't matter that they found those torn cords and how they were now scraping the darkness in the rocks for any sign of the lost ones.
…it didn't matter that they found a body with the jacket.
He could believe he lost all his old friends—he could believe that Jude died, that Erin ran away, that Minah disappeared—but he refused to believe that he'd also lost Shane. Shane had been the only one who was really there from the very beginning. Shane, at this point, was really all he had left.
The sound of footsteps stopped in front of him. When he looked up, he wasn't sure what he was seeing was real.
"You shouldn't be out here," Darren said. He had no real expression. He was only stating a fact.
Damian put his head in his hands. "Yeah." But he didn't move.
There was a moment of silence, and then a soft rustle, and Darren was sitting next to him on the bench.
Damian almost turned to look at him. "...what are you doing here, then?"
Darren just stared at the dimming sky above them. "...you always came here when you were upset. When the Jeffersons couldn't find you, I assumed you'd be here."
"I'm surprised you remember."
Another unsettling pause. Damian chanced to glance at him, and saw that odd haze in Darren's eyes as he stared at the sky. He wondered if this was what Charlotte meant when she said Darren didn't look like himself—that medicated haze.
He hadn't even known all that time that Darren needed treatment back then. Or the reasons his father exiled him to Northampton.
He just knew he got angry, and he took it out on people. And all he knew now was that he was sitting next to him without persuasion, and he was simply being there.
"...I'm sorry to hear about your brother, Damian," Darren murmured, still not looking at him.
After a while, Damian murmured, "Why is it...that every time I'm sitting here, you'll show up...and there'd always be an apology happening?"
"Some things stay the same."
Damian nodded absently, sighing to himself. "...I really hate this bench.
Darren glanced at him slightly, and nodded, hands to his knees. "...so do I."
There was a less awkward silence that followed as Darren leaned back and sighed, a cloud emitting from his lips. It was too cold to be out there.
"…Han said they found a body with Shane's old school jacket."
Darren nodded slowly.
Damian sat staring emptily in front of him, his fist pressed to his lips. "…it's still sinking in."
"It takes a while," Darren agreed amiably.
"Why are you sitting there?" Damian finally asked with no conviction.
Darren almost laughed, looking at his own hands. "…wish I knew." He sighed deeply and admired the view of the sky with his hazy eyes—who knew what he saw through them? "Maybe it's the drugs."
Damian nodded slightly. Darren paused and added, "…or maybe just force of habit." He smiled faintly at Damian. "I always find you here."
"Usually…it's your fault that I'm sitting here."
"True," Darren agreed, absently looking around what little of the garden they could see. "Ah…I did a lot of that, didn't I…?"
Damian raised an eyebrow. "If medication makes you this agreeable, then I'll pay for the prescription myself."
Darren laughed softly. "My father has that covered."
"Your dad is still on your case, huh?"
"I would throw the biggest party in Hawthorne history if he ever "got off my case"," Darren said emphatically. And then in a complete non sequitur, "Amazing how little I hate you when I'm like this. Maybe that's one upside."
"When did we start hating each other?" Damian asked with rather genuine confusion, trying to remember with a furrowed brow. "Because it seems to me like it was as far back as I can remember. That we didn't actually like each other all that much."
"Not entirely," Darren corrected. "There was point in time that we were pretty all right. Temporary, yes, but it was…all right."
The talk they were having now was one that had been long overdue ever since Darren had pulled the last straw—and that was throwing Damian against the grand piano at Pipers Hall after the cataclysmic fight of last year, one that shook down the Pipers and made them enemies without doubt.
They had separated and never looked back, even when Darren had been seeing the soloist that was their mutual friend. They never looked back at what they had done to each other, until now.
"You were never really that serious before, were you?" Damian remarked with little doubt that it was true. "She was really the more interesting one to you."
"She just happened to be my rebound," Darren answered, with a trace of his old arrogance through the mellow tone he used. "And while I was willing to give her all of my attentions—she was more fascinated by you."
"She was never interested in me," Damian glared. "She looked at you all the time."
Darren looked at him and smiled. "Kind of like how Charlotte looks at you now?"
Damian sat up. "Don't bring Charlotte into—"
"I can't not bring Charlotte into this, Damian…" Darren answered calmly. "Because she's the culmination of everything I tried to change ever since I returned to Hawthorne. She's why I'm doing most of this..." he gestured to his state, "...to myself."
Damian narrowed his eyes at him. Darren patiently explained, "I'm shallow, spoiled and petty—you're the one who tries to be mature, collected and supportive. Maybe that was why it didn't work. You were somewhere I couldn't actually get to." He smiled faintly. "That quality of yours, at least… I can honestly say…I admired from the very beginning."
Darren rose from the bench. "So don't lose your cool now… I find it really irritating and for someone who can't totally feel right now, that's saying something. Shane would disapprove."
He checked his watch. "My advice—fly to Colorado and see it with your own eyes. With the Twins' help, it'll be at most seven hours back and forth."
Damian watched him walk a way off, then stood up as a thought came to him. "Darren."
The taller boy turned slightly on his heel in askance. Damian stared at him. "…were you the one who called for the extra people to search?"
And to his surprise, the Adams prefect smiled. "…having a US Senator for a father, even one who's a total jerk, does have advantages. I'm sure he'll find some way to use his 'charitable' efforts to his advantage in the political race."
Damian stared, stunned. "…why are you doing this?"
"Firstly? I can't stand watching your dramatics. It's really, genuinely annoying. Secondly, it makes Charlotte even more glued to you than usual, and that would be to my disadvantage. And since Charlotte hasn't entirely shown that she despises my company, I'll keep fighting for that, medication or not. And thirdly…"
And here Darren turned away from him as he walked, "…you seem to have forgotten that a very very long time ago in some parallel dimension that vanished into a crack in the planet…that I did enjoy being your best friend, once. It's a terrible, horrendous thing of the past…but it had been there."
This was almost too much and Damian could only stare after him, aghast. Darren stopped at the corner and smiled faintly.
"I'll tell the Twins to prepare your plane, and hint to Charlotte where you are. I don't like seeing her worried, over you of all people. It's a waste." And he left.
-8-
A couple of hours later, Charlotte was in front of a car door, hugging Damian tightly. The Jeffersons stood behind her, giving them room. Grace and Noel stood with them, Noel looking crushed, and Grace's paint-stained self clutching onto him, tears pouring from her eyes. Han was not present.
The Twins had told their parents the situation, and told them that they needed a private plane to get Damian to Colorado immediately and back. Surprised at the selflessness of the request, the parents complied.
Damian released Charlotte from the embrace. He held her hands, looking a little doubtful. "…are you sure you don't want to…?"
Charlotte shook her head. "This isn't something I should be involved in. It's…between you and your family. If it had been me… I wouldn't have wanted you around to see me have to identify my dead brother." Just the mere thought, Charlotte realized, getting a cold weight in her stomach. If she had to identify Alex or something…
She shook her head. But she put her hands on Damian's shoulders. "But I better be your first call out, you understand?"
"Couldn't think of anyone else to call anyway…" Damian murmured. He hugged Charlotte again and kissed her, holding her tightly for a moment. He whispered, "I love you" when he let her go. He had never meant it more, especially at this time, when it appeared that he could lose anyone—anyone at all.
Charlotte nodded, replying with a smile, "I love you too."
Damian pulled away and nodded at his friends. Patrick and Diana gave him a quick tight hug each, patting his back heavily in support, before stepping back, looking awkward and unsure of what to do next. Damian only turned to the others, gave them a small smile, and got in the car.
And just like that, Damian left for the airport.
Charlie herded the unhappy troop of Jeffersons back to the House, sobered down himself by the events of late. Noel was downright inconsolable, he was clearly holding back his snuffling even as he strode into the House. He went upstairs without looking at anyone and slammed his door shut.
Patrick turned to Grace, putting a hand on her shoulder. "You all right?"
Grace just shook her head and walked upstairs. Charlotte looked at Patrick. "I'll take care of this. You and Diana just…wait with the Twins."
Charlotte headed upstairs, but the Twins chased her at the landing. "Hey Alice."
"What?"
"…Caruso's in your room. Make sure you feed him."
Charlotte gaped at them. "You put him in my room? Why?"
"We took him to every room in the House," Lucas said. "We tried to see where he'd like to stay!"
"He stopped chirping and settled in his cage when we put him in your room!" Logan threw up his hands, staring. "Maybe he sensed there was the least danger in there?"
"In a room with Grace…mm-hmm…" Charlotte rolled her eyes and just continued upstairs. She hurried after her roommate and found her in their room flopped facedown on the bed, getting paint all over her white comforter. And just like the Twins said, the prize canary was in the cage, seeming to watch the on-goings with some interest. Charlotte sighed and shut the door. For her purpose of being ballast alone, these were the longest days in Hawthorne yet.
Charlotte saw the painting facedown on the couch, and knew what it was before she picked it up. She blinked at the canvas. "Well…you finished it."
There was an unintelligible grumble from the bedspread. Charlotte put the painting down and lay on the bed next to Grace. "I know you're easily moved, and I'm pretty upset by all this too, but is there a specific reason that you just have not stopped getting tears and paint everywhere you go…?"
The mumble was still gibberish. Charlotte prodded her shoulder with a camel-hair brush. Grace rolled over, eyes wet and swollen.
"I didn't even get to say goodbye," she repeated to the ceiling of her canopied bed. She flailed with one paint-stained hand. "He just left. And I thought, hey, maybe I'll see him again. That would be nice. By then maybe I'd understand what is wrong with me…" She rolled over again and continued the monologue into more unintelligible muttering.
Charlotte nodded slowly, trying to analyze her. "…you finished the painting, Grace. You told me you couldn't. Does it mean that you've…figured out what to say?"
The "mmph" on the bedsheet meant "I think." Grace rolled over again, and was now lying next to Charlotte, curls spread. "…but it doesn't matter anymore." She ripped out some tissues from the box by the bedside table and blew her nose. "There's no point."
"Damian went to identify a body." Charlotte pointed out. "We still…we can't be sure if it's…" She looked around the ceiling and sighed. "You really do like him, do you?"
"…is that bad…? When I haven't figured things out yet…?" Grace looked at her questioningly. "…is it bad that I like him when I haven't cleared with myself what…I lost my chance. I just…kept thinking about the time we spent with him in New York… He's nothing like me, you know. He's out there, he's loud, he's crazy, so sure of himself… He moves fast—I mean, he keeps managing to get me upright before I even properly fall over. He was just…someone completely different. He sounded sure the moment he saw me… and up until now I still don't see what he sees."
"Welcome to the mating life of the teenage girl," Charlotte snorted. "When you figure out exactly how to determine exactly what goes on in the head of the person you like, let me know so we can patent it and become incredibly, crazy rich." She paused, then rolled her eyes. "Well, more than you are now."
Grace sighed and took Charlotte's hand. "…does being heartbroken always feel this bad…?"
Charlotte stared at the ceiling, squeezing her hand. There were a lot of memories to draw from. "…yeah. But even though it really hurts like crazy right now…it goes away. It takes a while, but it does." She glanced at her. "On the upside…singing about it can help."
"Seriously…?" Grace looked at her incredulously.
"Yeah it does, paint-face," Charlotte smiled. "You guys sing whenever you feel like it too, right?" She sat up. "Why? Was there something you wanted to sing to him all this time?"
Grace sat up and turned away, and stared at the painting.
-8-
It was nearing midnight. The Orion Ballroom was empty, but the stage was still there. It was almost boring for the Twins to open it for them. But the Jefferson conspirators all went in, as Grace mounted the stage. Charlotte stood on the floor across her, smiling up at her. She liked having her own solos, but she thought that right now, she wanted to hear Grace sing a solo.
Diana fired up the lights, which shone just at Grace, illuminating her eyes and the mist that had gathered in them. Grace looked out at this brightness and smiled faintly. The others below her urged her on.
Grace smiled a bit more and took a breath, remembering who she was singing to—both herself, and to Shane, who must have been stumbling in the dark himself with no one to turn to. In the same way Shane had protected her for that one, short precious instant during the New Year, she had wanted to reach out so badly to return the favor.
She lifted her head and began to sing.
Don't give up
It's just the weight of the world
When your heart's heavy
I...I will lift it for you…
In Colorado, far off, Damian walked into the large outpost being used as the headquarters for the search and rescue operation. He looked around and saw his parents. He tensed at the sight of his father, but when he saw his mother's wet eyes, he lowered his head and then managed to give her a small smile of comfort.
He walked to them and as he did, he saw the expression in his father's eyes. For the first time, they did not look at Damian with coldness. They looked as though they really saw him, for once.
Don't give up
Because you want to be heard
If silence keeps you
I...I will break it for you…
Darren leaned on the window of his room, staring at the moon. Photographs were scattered across his feet. They had the faces from last year. They had once been precious to him, but they meant nothing now, in his blurred, numbed state.
But in his clenched hand, he held the music sheets of the song Gregor had him and Charlotte sing. And though them he could feel, for once. He looked down at the message from his father.
"I don't know what had gotten into you… But the search party—it was a good call."
Darren smiled to himself.
Everybody wants to be understood
Well I can hear you
Everybody wants to be loved
Don't give up
Because you are loved
You are loved…
Charlotte smiled and watched Grace sing. She was singing with so much emotion that it was taking most of her breath out, but she kept singing. She sang her heart out.
Don't give up
It's just the hurt that you hide
When you're lost inside
I...I will be there to find you
Damian approached his parents with a questioning expression, and his mother hugged him tightly. To his surprise, she was smiling at him. Smiling, hands on his face as though grateful. Damian felt confused for a moment at their reaction to him.
She was telling him that it was all going to be taken care of. He wanted to see the body with the jacket, but his parents just shook their heads, saying that he didn't have to see anything. He almost protested—he wanted to see it for himself.
Don't give up
Because you want to burn bright
If darkness blinds you
I...I will shine to guide you
Noel lay on his bed, hugging a picture frame to his chest. It was one of himself, when he was thirteen, flushed with life and happiness, hugging a small boy of seven, carrying him—a boy who looked like him, but infinitely happier, with bright eyes that laughed. The both of them were wearing wizard cloaks and waving wands. There were identical crystal pendulums around their necks.
The silver writing on the photo said, me and Alan, Halloween.
Noel closed his eyes and let the tears run down the side of his head, clutching the frame tightly, and the pendulum that wasn't even his.
"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry… I should have tried harder, Alan... I'm so sorry… I'm making it up to you, I promise…"
Everybody wants to be understood
Well I can hear you
Everybody wants to be loved
Don't give up
Because you are loved...
Grace closed her eyes and sang with all she had, flooded by light.
Damian's mother touched his shoulder quickly and turned him towards the door.
And at the door, being helped in by the medics, with a vast smattering of scratches and wounds all over, a bandaged arm, leg and head, but still utterly, completely whole, was Shane, looking at his brother in amazement.
Damian's mouth fell open, a hundred emotions flooding him in the span of a second—all the time it took to meet his brother's eyes—before it all broke through and he ran to him.
You are loved
Don't give up
It's just the weight of the world…
The one they had found—the other mountaineer—was one of Shane's classmates, the person he'd saved when their climbing cords snapped in the rockslide. Shane had given everything he had to keep his friend from falling—and snapped a tendon in his arm in the process. Both had fallen down the rocks of the mountainside, and when the slide ended, they struggled to get back to a trail. They didn't even know what happened to the others.
Shane had left his jacket with his classmate to protect him from the cold. But when Shane, the one best able to move between them, went stumbling through the woods to find help, his friend died of internal bleeding. Shane was found hours later by one of the searchers. The rest of the mountaineers were being found, one at a time, at Shane's indication of where he had come from.
As Shane fell onto his brother, the first thing he said was, "Hey Damian… I thought I lost you for a bit there."
Unable to stop himself, Damian just hugged him, tears running down his face. He hadn't lost his brother.
Don't give up
Everyone needs to be heard
You are loved…
"…and I learned that life is pretty short…so if it's okay by you…after they stitch me up…can you take me to see Grace? Because dang it—I'm just not ready to die a rejected man."
That was the second thing Shane said, and he was adamant about it. And that was the reason why in the clear Massachusetts morning that followed—in spite of every medical precaution against it, in spite of their parents protesting very vociferously against it, and after all testimonies were taken—Damian stepped out of the car in front of Jefferson house, and helped Shane out, in crutches, an arm sling, and endless bandages.
Charlotte ran out noiselessly, still in pajamas, to meet them. She was smiling when she hugged Damian tightly, kissing him, endlessly relieved at the sight of them both and gave Shane a gentler hug as well. Patrick and Diana, leaning at the foyer, welcomed them all in, grinning. Shane grinned back, still scratched in one cheek.
Don't give up…
As Shane entered the hall and headed for the stairs, Noel emerged from the kitchen with a cup of coffee and saw him. Shane caught his eye and he grinned at him with a nod before continuing up the steps. Noel dropped the mug with a crash, eyes wide and mouth open. He fell back onto the wall, clutching the pendulum to his chest and he slid down onto the floor.
As Patrick and Diana stared at him, perplexed at his incredible reaction, Noel pulled his knees to his chest and burst into tears.
The Twins smiled down at him from the mezzanine.
You are loved…
Charlotte let Shane into their sunlit room. From the window, Caruso chirped a small, questioning greeting at the newcomer. Grace was on her bed, having slept in—so emotionally drained that nothing woke her. She had cleaned the paint from her hands, and looked silent and serene, sunbeams resting just right on her strawberry curls. The tear streaks had dried. She was the most peaceful, awkward girl in the world, or so it seemed at that moment.
Damian helped Shane to the side of the bed. There, Shane knelt down, took Grace's hand in his and laid his chin on the bed, just watching with his blue-gray eyes and letting Grace sleep as he stared.
He stared as though he would never see enough.
And then, a stir, a flutter of eyelashes in the sun.
Shane smiled softly. "…hi."
|
|
|
Hawthorne
Jul 4, 2014 11:08:09 GMT -5
via mobile
Post by HburgEagle44 on Jul 4, 2014 11:08:09 GMT -5
Definitely there were tears this time. So perfect!!!
|
|
|
Post by barbt on Jul 4, 2014 22:30:36 GMT -5
Thank you for not taking Shane away. And for letting Noel be right.
|
|