"Lance! Stop-hogging-the-phone!"
"I will as soon as you stop hogging the bathroom every morning, 'Tro," Lance Alvers shouted down the stairs. "Not like you have anyone to talk to anyway!"
The giggling on the other line lessened his annoyance and brought a sheepish smile on his face.
"Sorry about that, Chelsey," he said, running a hand through his chestnut mane. "They're a real pain sometimes."
"You all sound so close though," Chelsey said. "It's almost like you're brothers."
"Yeah, I guess that comes from living in the same house for two years."
"Yo, Lance! Fred won't give me the remote back!" Todd Tolanski called from the livingroom.
"No one wants to watch Spongebob, Toad!" Fred shouted at him.
"I know, yo! I wanted to watch Code Lyoko!"
Lance kicked his door shut and laid on his bed.
"Must be nice, being on your own sometimes," he sighed, brushing back his bangs. "I envy you."
"It's alright," Chelsey admitted, a smile in her voice. "But a lot of times it's a drag when you're alone."
"You're not alone now."
Chelsey giggled and Lance grinned again. He loved hearing her laugh; it had been hard adjusting when Kathrine Pride-a friend and crush he'd had for a long time-had left for a camp in Illinois. They'd tried to stay in touch using email and letters, but one day both lines just stopped. Lance remembered the day clearly. He'd been out on the Bayville High stairs, gazing up at the clouds wistfully, when a hand touched his shoulder and he looked over to take in curly red hair and baby blue eyes that smiled at him before her petal pink lips had. His heart had been flipping ever since. By now no doubt Kitty had found someone else as well, so it wasn't really a factor when he asked Chelsey to go steady.
"It'll be a month soon," Chelsey purred into the phone. "You promised I could meet your friends after a month."
Lance cringed as his door opened and Pietro Maximoff leaned on the doorway.
"What do ya wanna meet these losers for?" he asked, shooting 'Tro a smirk.
Pietro stuck his tongue out in response.
"I want to get to know them, too. They say you don't really know someone until you meet their family."
"You're-done," Pietro grumbled, less in kidding than he'd meant to be. Lance was near deaf from his loud music, so he often had to have the phone all the way up to hear anything, which gave 'Tro the advantage of eavesdropping.
Lance chucked a pillow at him and gave an angry gesture for him to get out. Pietro just cocked an eyebrow at him challengingly.
"I have to go, my parents are home," Chelsey said. "I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Sure, of course," Lance said, smiling. Pietro rolled his eyes. "Bye."
"Bye."
"Gee, Lancy-lot, can-you-be-any-more-sappy?" Pietro growled, holding his hand out for the phone.
"What's your problem?" Lance huffed, throwing the phone onto the foot of the bed. "You've been biting everyone's head off lately."
"Admittedly, I've-only-been-biting-yours-off, Lancy-lot," Pietro said as he zipped to grab it.
"Why? What did I do to you?"
"Nothin'-to-me, I-just-have-a-problem-with-you, Lancy-"
"Would you stop calling me that? Where did you-"
Lance stopped and reddened when he remembered. Kitty used to call him 'Lance-a-lot' to tease him, and 'Tro had picked it up as a taunt, changing it to 'Lancy-lot' because of his quick speech.
"I-don't-like-this-Cathy-chick," 'Tro growled, rapidly dialing on the phone. "She-doesn't-seem-good-for-you."
"It's Chelsey. You said the same thing about Kitty, you know. You don't think anyone is good for us."
"'Cause-they-ain't, plain-and-simple."
He held the phone to his ear with his shoulder, digging into his pocket for something.
"Why're you so worried about me?" Lance sighed, leaning back on his bed. "Go keep Todd away from Wanda or something."
"I-don't-have-to, Todd-would-never...yeah, hey-Ev, you-didn't-forget-about-our-game-today-did-you?"
Lance shot up straight and stared at 'Tro. The snow blonde turned his back to him as he counted the money in his pocket.
"Yeah, yeah-I-can-get-myself-there," he said. "'Kay, catchya-later."
He hung up and threw the phone into the air.
"What the heck?" Lance cried, grabbing the phone and stopping Pietro before he walked out the door. "You're going to hang out with Evan?"
"Ye-ah," Pietro answered, cocking an eyebrow at him. "So?"
"But you two hate each other."
"We're-rivals-Lance, we're-not-enemies. I-challenged-him-to-some-basketball-and-he-excepted."
"Hang on," Lance said, grabbing the speedster's shirt to stop him. "You can't tell me who's good for me and who isn't if I can't do the same! You and Evan together just cause trouble and-"
"We're playing basketball!" Pietro shouted, slowing his words to emphasis how stupid this conversation was. "We're not gonna kill each other!"
"'Tro-"
"Look, if-you-don't-let-me-go, I'm-only-going-to-be-three-minutes-early! Why-don't-you-just-lecture-me-when-I-get-home?"
Lance started to say something, then bit it back and sighed.
"Fine, go," he said. "But-"
Pietro was already flying down the stairs before he could spit out his words.
"Be home at eight, 'Tro!" Lance called down the stairs. "I mean it this time!"
Pietro rolled his eyes as he sprinted towards the school. He hadn't been lying when he said he didn't like Chelsey. Something about the whole situation set him on edge; Lance was head over heels for Kitty Pride, and while she hadn't been his favorite person in the world, she'd still proven time and time again(with a few hitches) that she did care about Lance. Since their fight against his Apocalypse possessed father, the Brotherhood had grown much closer to each other, to the point where they felt like siblings. Even Wanda was hanging around more, much better now that she felt like she belonged.
He cringed as he came to a stop on the basketball court. No, Wanda was happier because their father had erased her memory and replaced it with a bunch of lies, dragging Pietro into the middle of his plan. None of her feelings were true, and one day it would all crash and destroy her.
Pietro shook the thoughts out of his head and did a couple laps around the court. This was why he never stopped, never stayed still for a moment; if he did his brain got all depressed and filled him with grief. He would rather run and run and run until he was so numb he couldn't think of anything besides shallow pleasure and lackadaisical pursuits.
"Hey! 'Tro!"
He skidded to a stop and stuck his hands in his pockets, a smirk on his face.
"Took-ya-long-enough-Daniels," he teased as Evan jogged over and set his bag down.
"I didn't take that long," Evan said, giving him a strange look. "You okay? I haven't seen you run like that in a while."
Pietro felt his upper lip rise. Now he recognized the look, it was concern. He turned his head to the bag.
"We-gonna-play-or-what?" he asked.
"Pietro-" Evan started.
"Are we gonna play or what?"
Evan sighed and unzipped his bag. If Pietro was slowing his words down, then something must really be bothering him.
"This wouldn't happen to have something to do with that girl Lance is dating, would it?" he asked as he tossed the ball up to his childhood friend.
"Yeah, somethin'-like-that," Pietro muttered, flipping the ball around. It had nothing to do with Chelsey, nothing at all, but he could go with that. It was only the surface, they weren't scratching very deep. "I-don't-trust-her."
"Why?"
"Just-don't. Kinda-don't-trust-the-whole-thing."
He paused and pursed his lips.
"But-it's-Lance's-choice, so-I-guess-I-can't-do-much-about-it."
"True..."
Pietro bounced the ball on the concrete for a moment, then glanced at Evan. The boy was scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, as if he wanted to say something.
"What's-eatin'-you?" Pietro asked, twirling the basketball on his finger.
"Well..." Evan started, kicking at the asphalt. "There's...someone who came home today...and she might not be too happy about this girl either..."
"Geez, stop-beating-around-the-bush," Pietro growled. He didn't notice the person walking up behind him. "If-you-got-something-to-say, just-"
"Hi, Pietro."
Pietro whipped around and stared at the girl who smiled at him, his ice blue eyes going wide.
"...Kitty?"
