FROM AUTHOR TO READER (FATR): I was originally going to post this as a one shot, but I'm impatient and it's starting to look like it may be a bit longer than I originally surmised. That always happens to me. At any rate, this isn't the first Static Shock story I've posted, but it is the first non xover, independently written one. I've taken one or two creative liberties, as I will tend to do. I don't own Static Shock or anything related to it and, as a personal disclaimer, even if Francis comes across as homophobic in this chapter, I'm not. In fact, I'm a bisexual yaoi/yuri slash/femme slash enthusiast. I support same sex couples on all levels, so don't flame me. Only Francis can get away that. Yeah, bad pun... Now! Enjoy chip chip one...
X)O(X
Red. Light red. Light red stripes. Light read stripes on black. Or black stripes on light red depending on how it was looked at. Then again, not so much black as the same red under less photon fire. A sound filled the small dark place, reverberating off the metal walls. More photons were blocked as a shape moved in front of the door. The voices continued on underneath the loud grating sound that then filled the space. There was a loud, metallic chunk and the stripes of red and darker red began to shift. They turned blue, then white, then gray as they glided to the right and up the wall. The space was then flooded with light, and the lines disappeared all together.
"So between the park clean up and the research paper, I have no time to..." Frieda trailed off as her eyes landed on the haphazardly folded red paper. It was thick, cheap construction paper, hastily and unevenly cut. Someone had dropped in through the slits in her locker door, and it had settled comfortably on top of her math text book.
"Ooh..." Daisy elbowed her friend lightly. "The secret admirer strikes again."
Frieda picked up and unfolded the paper. It read:
F is the fire that you light in my heart.
R is the romance I hope we can share.
I is the inspiration that you give me.
E is the eternity I want to spend with you.
D is the death I will face to keep you from harm.
A is the anonymous affection I have for you.
"At least the poetry has improved," Daisy giggled. "And it's a nice sentiment."
Frieda leaned against the lockers and twirled a lock of hair around her finger. "It's driving me crazy, though, not knowing. Once I thought it was Jimmy, but that's gone out the window..."
Daisy smirked. "Who do you want it to be?"
Frieda looked caught off guard. "What? Well... um... I don't know..."
"Come on. If it could be from anyone in the entire school, who would you want it to be from?"
Frieda smiled and blushed. "I don't know..."
"Yes you do..." Daisy verbally prodded. "Come on, who is it?"
"Well... um... it's..." the pink in her cheeks deepened. "You can't laugh..."
"Of course I won't," Daisy assured.
"And if you tell him I swear I'll..."
"Just tell me," Daisy begged, unable to stand the suspense.
Frieda took a deep breath and studied her feet. "It's... well, I hope it's... Virgil." She allowed her eyes to drift to Daisy's face and gage her reaction. Her friend stared, snickered, and started to speak. Frieda's embarrassed expression swiftly melted into one of defensive indignation. "You promised not to laugh! Please don't tell!"
"I was going to say: It's about time you admitted it," Daisy laughed.
"What?" Frieda blinked.
"That whole 'let's just be friends' thing couldn't fool me."
"... You knew I was going to say Virgil, didn't you?" Frieda asked suspiciously.
"Maybe," was Daisy's cryptic and teasing answer.
"Oh, you..." Frieda swatted at her with a notebook.
Daisy laughed and jumped away just as the bell rang. "That's my exit cue! I'll see you at lunch!" She walked backwards for a few steps, waving, then turned and sprinted into the surging crowd.
Frieda shook her head slowly and slammed her locker. Her and Virgil had been friends since elementary school, and since about seventh grade she had had a bit of a crush on him. When she had said she wanted to stay friends, she had meant it... at the time. At the time she had been afraid of ruining the relationship they already had, which was too great to gamble. It was 'a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush' kind of situation. The notes, however, had begun to jog her imagination. What if? What if they were from Virgil? Ah, the possibilities... If she hadn't already lost her chance, that is... But if Virgil was the one sending her poems, then he still liked her. Frieda turned opposite the way Daisy had gone and meandered slowly towards class, glowing with romantic fantasies. A wall clock caught her eye.
Aw, man, I'm going to be late! Frieda dodged through the crowd, darted around a corner, and ran smack into somebody coming from the other direction. She dropped her books and landed on her butt. Wincing, she muttered, "Geeze, watch where you're going..." As she reached to gather her books, her eyes fell on a pair of ominously familiar black and white skater shoes. Her gaze traveled slowly up the looming figure until it met the burning glare. Fortunately, she noted, it wasn't literally burning, but all the same...
"Watch where I'm going or what?" Francis, now more commonly known as Hotstreak, returned in a dangerously low voice.
"Oh... h-hey..." Frieda smiled. "I was just... er... talking to myself, you know?" She laughed nervously. "Clumsy me." There was a wide circle opening around the girl and the bully, now. Anxious faces gawked at the spectacle, anticipating what might happen next. Aw, man, where was the principal when you needed him? She gulped and scuttled backwards as the pyro took a step forward. He knelt down to her level, looking her square in the eye. Her heart was pounding in her chest. "Seriously, it was my bad, it won't happen again, I swear..."
The Bang Baby smirked darkly. "No, you're right."
Frieda couldn't believe her ears. "I'm sorry?"
"I really should watch where I'm going."
There was an venomous undertone to his voice that she didn't like at all. "I-It's okay, really..." Frieda was visibly shaking. All the kids around them were whispering. Hoping he'd go berserk and burn down the school? Maybe.
"At least I can help you pick up your stuff, hm?" He lifted a note book that was lying by her foot. A twisted grin spread across his face as it went up in smoke. "Oops, my bad. Clumsy, clumsy me." He straightened back up, towering over her, the trademark scowl darkening his every expression.
Frieda was about to jump up and run when a boy's hands landed on her upper arms and helped her to her feet.
"Easy, man, no one here is looking for trouble." Richie gently pushed Frieda behind him, trying to remain calm and reasonable. Though lately, it seemed, both words had dropped out of Francis' vocabulary. Hotstreak was neither calm nor reasonable. "It was an accident, right? And I'm sure she's really sorry..."
Frieda nodded enthusiastically.
"Move your ass along, Foley," Francis snarled. "This does not concern you."
Richie's hands curled into fists at his side. "You think you're such a bad ass, don't you? And now more than ever."
Francis narrowed his eyes. "I'll see you," he poked Richie in the chest with his index finger for emphasis, "behind the dumpsters after school. Unless, of course, you're scared."
Richie stood on tiptoe until his face was an inch from the psychotic Bang Baby's. "Bring it, freak boy."
Francis' hands clenched into smoking fists and his eyes smoldered. "I will, you faggotty, four-eyed, blonde mother fucker, what the fuck!" The color drained from Foley's face, much to Hotstreak's delight.
Richie, rather shell shocked from the final outburst, watched as Francis turned and sauntered away, strutting like he owned the hall. He almost sort of did. The shock finally melted away and the blonde's heart started beating again. Uh oh. Good goin, Richie...
"You idiot," Frieda suddenly exploded. "What the heck was that?" She pointed her thumb over her shoulder in the direction Francis had gone.
"My death sentence," Richie sighed, though his eyes glittered with amusement. "Are you okay?"
Frieda gazed up into those eyes. 'D is the death I will face to keep you from harm...' maybe it's Richie... "A little shaken up," she admitted. "But other than the loss of my math homework," her eyes flicked down to the ashes on the floor, "I'll survive." Man, that could've been her ashes on the floor, couldn't it? She tried to turn her gaze back to Richie but found that meeting his made her want to blush. "Thanks, Richie."
"All in day's work, ma'am." He offered her his arm. "Might I escort you to class?" Frieda shrugged, took his arm, and off they went together. "Now, how do I pull my ass from the fire?"
She laughed and batted him on the shoulder. "That was a terrible pun."
He grinned. "I know." But it's a very good question...