Tango Tudor
Summary: HighSchoolverse! Kick thought he would never slip on his dancing shoes since elementary school, but BISCUITS! In order to pass in his least successful class he has to dance with fun police once more. However, this devil's feet are a bit too loose and all hope of passing seems bleak- until he finds out Gwen his a fantastic dancer herself. She agrees to tutor him in the art of the tango, to repay a favor. Kendall, unknowing of his secret lessons, is quickly impressed with the teen's smooth moves; releases some emotions she kept pinned up inside of her. All seems to being going well... Until Kick's amazing teacher is discovered. Can he balance his feelings for two women and win first place in the School dance emporium?
A/N: I've had this idea buzzing around in my head like an annoying fly. My better judgment has told to type it and see the response. Just a fair word of warning- there is OC's in this story so no flaming on their behalf- they will be extinguished by the awe-inspiring fury of awesomeness.
Now, read and enjoy!
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Part 1) Finding your Footing
It had been a fast-timed, whirlwind of years as the group of kids that interacted in the small suburban city of Mellowbrooke grew out of the preteen age and to the great, wild age of adolescence all people either wanted to come quickly, stay longer or return in all their glory. However with this golden age of experience and fun, there is another side- the side of responsibility and danger, the framework of friendships and reality are like crystal glass; beautiful to behold but easy to shatter. Unfortunately for most teenagers of this age, this lesson is never heeded until it has already occurred and is often too damaged to be saved.
(A/N: Sorry about the prose, I needed to get my mind awake and I just don't have the heart to delete such work; on with the story.)
Life for Clarence Francis "Kick" Buttowski hadn't really changed since his earlier years. He still hung out with his best friends, planned and perfected epic stunts on skateboard and bike alike and held his dream of becoming the greatest daredevil since Billy Stumps and Evil Knievel. If he had to nitpick then things had changed a bit- such as their looks. School provisions hadn't grown kindly to his full body-suit of awesome or his constant wearing of reinforced head-gear, so slowly, he changed his attire to a comfortable pair of blue jeans, black crew-neck t-shirt and red and black sneakers. His hair finally exposed a head of dark brown, medium-length hair with soft yet quill-like spikes. This look altered with the seasons but here wasn't much frill to the casual wear of the stuntman, much against one's expectations. He still kept the suit ready though, in all its patriotic red, white and blue epicness. However the Helmet stayed, he just wasn't ready for that trip yet.
This ensemble now clothed the seventeen year old teen as he rushed down the staircase; flying by the kitchen where he picked up his things, grabbed an apple from his nearby mother and wished her a good-day as he fled for the door.
"Not enough time for breakfast- bye mom!"
"Goodbye Kick, make sure you take a jacket, its cold outside today!" Honey Buttowski gently primed her son, knowing how he could rush around without a purpose sometimes. When the door shut, she barely heard it open and close again, confirming her suspicions that he had heard her at all. She only shook her head as her eyes found the analog clock on the nearby door.
7:50- that man is always in a hurry…
Dashing out, while sliding the white-with-signature-red-stripe jacket over his shoulders from the brutal autumn wind, the daredevil trekked his way to the nearby bus stop. The trees around the cul-de-sac had started the natural process of turning its seasonal colors of orange, red and brown- some daring plants falling from their tall pedestals to the cold ground. To be fair, Kick knew when to appreciate the scenery around him, unlike his younger days when all his energy was devoted to stunts (and for a twelve year old boy, that was a feat in itself). Soon however, he was drawn from his moment of piece with the blare of the familiar horn of the cheesy, yellow bus, waking him from his mindless wandering.
Slightly annoyed, he entered the vehicle's creaking doors and made his way to the back where he plopped on the wore-out seat, again averting his eyes to the window. The chatter of random teens barely buzzed in his ears as the bland autumn sky merely registered in his brain.
"Yo, Kick, you ok?"
The boy's attention was back as he recognized the tone of his best friend, Gunther Magnuson. The descended Viking was still rather large, but it hardly affected him; his wardrobe hadn't changed much, with blue shirt and shorts switched to pants- the red cap sometimes made an appearance but rarely does.
"Yeah, Gunth, just early morning..."
The blonde haired teen bit his lip, but decided to drop it. Kick flicked his haircut of his eyes, before picking up on something, "Where's-?"
"HOLD IT!" A voice called from the front of the bus as a redheaded girl, hopped onto the bus. She was thin, with fair skin, fire-engine red hair done up in ponytail with side-swooped bangs and emerald green eyes. Her outfit consisted of a dark wash jegging, tucked into black, heelless boots with a red, flannel-plaid shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbow and a few buttons undone to expose the white camisole underneath. "Sorry, Gus- won't happen again."
"You're lucky this time Gwen." The serious driver smirked as the girl headed back into the bus.
Never mind... The teen boy breathed as the teen girl took a seat next to him, "Wondered where you were." He shifted so his back was leaning on the rectangular windows of the moving bus.
"Glad to know you care." Gwen replied.
To those who were strangers, her name was Guinevere Rosemary Axle; normal inline-blade skater as well as future millionaire in hiding. Her family was drenched in high society of archeologist discoverers (father's side) and jewelry sellers (mother's side). However, money didn't affect this girl- being down to earth and realistic more than other girl her age.
"Hey Gunthah." She cheekily added sass to her tone as she turned 180 degrees, kneeling on the polyester seat, to meet the Viking face-to-face.
"G-Force." He responded in kind, "Did you get the camera?"
"Why do you think I was late?" She joked lightly, "Have you guys made the final calculations?"
"Almost- I need to gather some more supplies." Gunther mentally ran down the list in his head, "I'm not gonna be able to come by after school, I gotta help with the evening shift."
Kick silently frowned at hearing his best bud's conflicting schedule, however he shrugged it off. His eyes drifted to the figure of the woman beside him. He had to admit that those dark pants clung to her legs wonderfully, subtly showing her toned calves and thighs. Her shirt was fitted to show the natural curve of her lower back, even bunching up to allow a peak of skin to show. He couldn't help the small smirk on his face as his gaze evened out at her butt...
Gwen waved it off, "Don't sweat it- I think we can handle ourselves right Kick?" When she didn't get an immediate response, she asked again, "Kick?"
Her voice awoke the remaining in staring brain cells and forced his gaze up to her eyes, "Uh, yeah, we'll be fine."
The redhead rolled her eyes and flopped back on the seat the correct way and reached in her messenger bag, pulling out a small vial of lip gloss.
"You're wearing makeup?" He asked incredulously.
"Just a little gloss, I hate it when my lips chap."
The daredevil subtly watched the girl picker her lips and apply the sparkly, nude color, not noticeable unless you squinted, to her lips. He didn't know what about her was so… enthralling, but he quickly shoved his growing emotions in the far corner of mind.
"You missed a spot." He poked at her face, causing her to slip the brush astray from her lips to her skin.
"You... Snickerdoodles, Buttowski." She resisted the urge to hit him as she wiped the trail of glittery substance from her face. She examined the blob on her forefinger like an unwanted blemish then smirked herself, quickly reaching over and wiping her hand on the teen boy's white jacket.
"No- get that girly poison offa me!" He tried to push her away, but to no avail.
"Hey, I like this girly poison." She stuck her tongue at the 'devil, teasingly. "Besides, it's your color."
After a while she gave up, letting the boy have his space. Gunther merely watched the spectacle from the sidelines, silent but smirking himself.
What a trio they made.
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The day had progressed so far so quickly, that it was final period before he knew it. This time slot of fifty minutes was devoted to the glorious and pitiful class of Physical Education aka Gym Class. Most of the time, it usually involved two aspects: 1) Allowing jocks to show off their skills (like himself) or punish wimpy nerds (A/N: no disrespect to the nerds, I'm in that boat too). 2) Being a version of heck for those girls who worry over sweat and chipped nails.
Instead of a vigorous track run or basketball game, all the students currently in the class were corralled into the pullout bleachers, separated by gender, and awaited the coach- Mr. Sylvester, called so do to the faint lisp in his voice.
Kick and Gunther decided to spend a bit of the time over the blue print of a large gorge jump. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Gwen, making an effort to listen to Jackie Wackerman ramble on about something he could make out.
Wacky Jackie had matured as well, her body growing to a relatively tall height of 5'9". Her hair grew out to her shoulders in a simple yet cute hairstyle and oval glasses had been changed to sleeker ones, allowing more of her sapphire eye to show. Her wardrobe consisted of a long sleeved blue shirt with dark pants and quirky blue tennis shoes. Her obsession with the daredevil had subsided mostly, her interest now driven in other things like photography, celebrity gossip and blogging. Sometimes she had her moments but mostly she was over the suburban daredevil, much to his inner delight.
"ALRIGHT class- listen up!" Mr. Sylvester- a stout but strong man in his mid-fifties- called for order in the gymnasium. The crowd eventually silenced, giving the man their attention. "Now the first half of this semester is winding down, you have received the first part of your physical education credit- however you will not have this class again next semester."
A few whispers of uncertainty rushed through the crowd but the coach continued relentlessly, "It is stated in your school handbooks that your P.E credit consists of a self-fitness unit as well as a team sport unit... if any of you bothered to read it."
"We have a hand book?" Kick looked at Gunther questionably as he only shrugged in return.
"So, I've split up the large group into two smaller classes- Swimming and Dance."
Dance- Kick perked up at the word. What? No... Not that again. Once was enough for a lifetime.
"I've posted the lists by the locker room so find your names. After you find your place, head to your assigned room and NO SWITCHING!" He added violently as the throng if teens got up and headed for the posted lists.
Kick scanned the swim list for his name- it happened to be in alphabetical order:
Becker
Bennett
Boswell
Brand
Butchers
Cameron
... WHERE WAS HIS NAME!? If it wasn't in the swim team then...
His eyes wearily drifted to the dance list:
Baxter
Betterton
Bristol
Buttowski
No, it can't be true... It took ever once of him not to reenact his best Luke Skywalker- NOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Defeat, utter tragedy, hatred; all flooded his veins at once… He had to sit down and calm himself.
"Bummer," Gunther spotted his name lower in the 'M's and patted his best friend's back, "Sorry Kick."
"The universe is out for Gunther." The teenager warned his companion, "There's no other explanation for it."
"Maybe it won't be that bad." The Viking descendent tried to cheer him up, "I mean we've done it before."
Surprisingly that seemed to encourage him. He looked up and saw the pair of girls headed back to their places; Jackie smiling as usual while Gwen's lips were compressed in a straight line, a tell-tale sign of discontentment.
That's not a good sign...
Grabbing his backpack, he jumped the railing of the bleacher and headed straight for the duo.
"Thank god I got dance!" Jackie rattled on, "If I had to wear a bathing suit- I'd be the laughing stock of the girl's locker room."
Gwen slung her oversized handle over her head, "Jackie, you'd look fine in a bathing suit- and trust me I wouldn't lie about that."
"Unless I ask you too?" The brunette smirked.
"You know it." Gwen shot her a grin worthy of a thousand photographs. Her grin faded as Kick entered the group.
"Hey Gwen- Jackie..." He treaded lightly, not to trigger the infamous 'Wacky switch'.
The fan girl only smiled sweetly, "Hiya Kick, we're just talking about the new class. What did you get?"
The daredevil looked away, a shade of really light pink in his cheeks, "... Dance."
"Oh my gosh really?! Me too!" Jackie cheered and celebrated much to Kick's inner-self cringing.
"Not your number one choice I see?" The calmer, red-haired girl saw through him immediately.
"At all..."
"Is the mighty Kick Buttowski afraid of a mere two-step?" Gwen feigned a shocked voice, her mouth gasping.
"Drives fear to my very soul." Kick deadpanned playfully, "So... What did you get?"
Gwen blinked a moment and then turned to Jackie, "Here I thought they would sign us up for actual classes."
This vague response surprised the teenager at first, but slowly her ulterior motive emerges as she continued to blab on.
"I mean since when is dancing a real class? I only thought serious professionals did that."
"Gwen."
"And with a co-Ed group? It's like setting a torch to a bonfire- hormones will go wild!"
"Gwen, where- were- you- placed?" His tone went short, something he had never done with her before. The girl sighed, knowing she out it off as long as possible- all the marbles were in now.
"...Swimming."
If the daredevils jaw could have met the floor it would have right there. He had clearly anticipated her to join him in Dance class, to hear she wasn't going to be there was unnerving.
"What- seriously?"
The jade eyed girl could only nod, lowering her head as her boots scuffed the gym floor.
The whistle from the coach's neck alerted the students they weren't moving as fast as he wished. Gwen too this opportunity, thankful for the chance if escaping the awkward silences growing between them.
"We should get to class," She muttered, primarily to the quirky girl beside her. Her gaze looked up to the boy once, "See you after school?"
The dumbfounded Kick nodded, suddenly finding his sneakers very interesting to look at. Gwen strolled off as fast as her legs could carry her without the pace of a sprint. Jackie, who was third-wheeling it big time on this scene, gave daredevil a helpless smile and a wave as she ran to catch up with Gwen.
Kick watched the girls go with a pang of loneliness in his chest. Which surprised him- the only way he could be disappointed was that he was expecting Gwen to be in class with him, that's just how it was. When she said 'swimming', it was like a boulder dropping in him from a mile high up- crushing. Now, she was walking away, head still down a bit and he was overcome with a terrible feeling.
"There goes the trio…"
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A/N: So here's part 1, I hope you all enjoyed it. Please review and tell me your thoughts- I won't post the next chapter until I get five (5) reviews and more will get it posted sooner!
Until next time, Live till it hurts! ... And then some :) (Gosh that felt good…)
-Phoenix