Okay, this chapter wasn't edited, either. I mainly wanted to finish it and get it up. (I'm not usually this bad about not editing! XP)
Also, this fic may go on the backburner for the month of November, as I'm going to try participate in NaNoWriMo. Knowing me and my horrible discipline when it comes to writing, however, I'm probably going to work on this just as much as my novel (which I only started planning on the 31st of October) fail to meet 50,000 words by the deadline, and get several more chapters of this up instead. If only I had thought to start this a few days later than I did- then I could use it as my NaNoWriMo entry, instead! XP
(Another) also: I've started a Starship roleplay, for anyone who's interested. It shouldn't be too hard to find. There are, after all, only two Starship forums... (last time I looked, at least.) It's called A Very Starship Roleplay. There's still some work that needs to be done with it- such as thinking of a plot to start us off with- but I'm hoping that you guys can help me with that. :)
Anyway, enjoy the chapter!
P.S. There's a good deal of Junuary (yes, that's what I'm going to call Junior/February from now on) fluff in this chapter. It might be balanced out slightly at the end, though.
Junior looked at himself in the mirror, checking over his appearance quickly. He was sure that he looked fine- he had combed his hair, brushed his teeth, put on a clean shirt and jeans, and he was even wearing the nice pair of loafers his grandmother had given him for his birthday instead of his usual sneakers. After all, it couldn't hurt to look nice for February. Even if they were just on a study date.
He jogged through to the kitchen, where his mother was cleaning the countertops. He wasn't sure why, as the kitchen appeared to be spotless, but he didn't question her.
"I'm off to pick up February," he told her quickly. "I'll be back soon."
"See you then," his mother replied absentmindedly, scrubbing hard at a nonexistent speck of dirt. "If you're not back within an hour, I'll be calling you, alright? Make sure that you have a first-aid kit in the hovercar in case something happens and one of you gets hurt. Make sure that you have your phone on you in case you need to call nine-one-one."
Junior sighed, rolling his eyes.
"Yes, Mom. I know. I'll see you soon." He quickly pushed open the front door and walked outside, crossing to his hovercar- a rather fancy model, especially for a sixteen-year-old who had only passed his driver's test four months ago and who had dinged it numerous times on the mailbox since then- and sitting down in the driver's seat.
"Rhonda," he called clearly once he had put the keys in the ignition and started the engine.
"Yes, Junior?" said the GPS in the accent of a British woman. "Rhonda," as he had named her, didn't have the degree of sentience necessary to join the robots in their rebellion or the body necessary to do any damage, which were the only reasons why the family allowed her, anyway.
"Direct me to…" He glanced at the scrap of paper in his hands and quickly read off February's address.
"Yes, Junior," the robot replied calmly. "Do you want to give a name to this address?"
"Er… sure."
"What would you like to call it, Junior?" Rhonda inquired, synthetic politeness in her voice.
"February's house," Junior replied with a shrug, glancing over his shoulder before beginning to pull out of the driveway.
Once he was safely on the open road, he turned on the radio and hummed along as music began to play. It wasn't too long of a drive to February's house- just fifteen minutes- and, before he knew it, he was parked in front of a large, stately home that bordered on being a mansion.
Junior blinked in surprise, wondering what her family did for a living. After all, they had a fancier house than the head of the whole Galactic League! A neatly trimmed lawn with gorgeous, colorful flowerbeds beckoned to him, but he resolutely ignored the temptation to lie down on the grass and soak up the sun. Instead, he walked up the white pathway that lead to the front door and knocked on the dark, ornately carved wood.
Footsteps could be heard coming from inside, and Junior was suddenly struck by a horrid thought- what if February had pranked him, giving him the address of some fancy family so he'd knock on their door instead and look like an absolute idiot?
His fears were quickly dispersed when February herself answered the door, a wide smile on her face.
"Junior! Hi! Come on in!" she greeted cheerfully, grabbing him by the hand and forcefully yanking him through the doorway.
"Hey, February," he replied with a relieved smile. "How're you?"
"Good, thanks," she replied absentmindedly, before yelling loudly into the house. "MAMA! PAPA! JUNIOR'S HERE!"
He winced, moving to cover his ears when an older, grey-haired gentleman came in, a thin, blond woman on his arm. They were both dressed quite formally for a Saturday afternoon, as opposed to February's jeans and t-shirt. Junior, despite all of the care that he (and his mother) had put into his appearance that morning, felt rather underdressed.
"Good morning," he greeted politely, holding out his hand. "I'm Junior Lecter. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr and Mrs March."
"Lovely to meet you too, Junior," the woman said breezily, shaking his hand. The man simply grunted, glaring at Junior with remarkable hostility for someone he had just met.
"Okay, we'll be going now!" February told them both brightly, hooking her arm around Junior's- he tried not to cower as her father's glare deepened- and skipping out the door.
As they left, he could hear the man grumble,
"Who on Earth names their child Junior?"
"I don't think your dad likes me," Junior told February with a somewhat cheeky grin as he drove down the road, nearing his home. She giggled.
"Papa doesn't like anyone, I think. Except me and Mama. You just got the typical Arthur March greeting, so don't feel offended."
He laughed.
"I won't. At least it's not just me, though."
"Of course it's not just you, Junior," February replied with a mischievous smile. "You're too sweet for any reasonable person to not like you!"
He felt a blush color his cheeks as he pulled into the driveway of his house.
"Thanks, February." He quickly parked, hopped out of the hovercar, and crossed to the other side to open her door for her before she could do it herself.
"Aww, thanks," she told him, smiling, as she got out of the car. They quickly walked up to the doorway and stepped inside.
"Mom, I'm back!" Junior called, closing the door behind them. His mother came through from the dining room and smiled at them.
"Hello," she greeted, holding her hand out to February. "I'm Elizabeth Lecter, Junior's mother. You must be February."
February nodded excitedly, shaking the other woman's hand.
"February March- like the month, but a person! It's nice to meet you, Mrs Lecter."
"Nice to meet you too, February. I'll be in the kitchen if you kids need me."
"Thanks, Mom," Junior replied with a nod before turning to February. "Shall we get studying?"
"Let's do this!" February cried triumphantly, beginning to walk downstairs to the den. "I will conquer you today, photosynthingammajig!"
"Photosynthesis, February. Photosynthesis," he corrected with a laugh as he followed her.
"So… the oxy-gen in the water produced doesn't come from the oxy-gen in the carbon dioxide?" February clarified, confused.
"Exactly," Junior agreed. "The oxygen in the carbon dioxide goes into the glucose."
"Oh, I think I get it now!" she replied with a happy smile, her eyes lighting up. She hugged him tightly, not noticing the fact that his face went a lovely shade of pink. "Thanks so much, Junior!" She let go of him, still beaming. Her smile slowly became sheepish, however. "Um, I think my brain's kinda full for today, though. Can we stop studying now?"
"Sure," he replied quickly, nodding. Stop blushing, stop blushing, stop blushing, he chanted in his head until he felt the blush subside. "Do you want to watch a movie, or something?"
"Ooh, that'd be great!" she squealed excitedly, immediately hopping onto the sofa that faced the TV- they had been sitting on the floor to study, as she had suspected she'd fall asleep from boredom if they sat anywhere more comfortable.
Junior quickly turned on the TV, scrolling through the list of movies they had by lightly flicking his fingers across the touch-screen.
"What movie do you want to watch?" he inquired, looking up at her. "We have a bunch of classics. James Bond, Indiana Jones, the Karate Kid, Finding Nemo…"
"Let's watch Indiana Jones and the Raider of the Lost Ark!" February replied excitedly, literally bouncing in her seat. "I haven't seen that movie in ages!"
He nodded, quickly selecting it and turning off the lights before sitting down on the opposite end of the sofa from her. He settled in to watch as the movie began to play, half-considering going to make some popcorn. He discarded the idea in favor of simply watching a movie with February.
Apparently, February found Raiders of the Lost Ark quite a bit scarier than he did, as she jumped with a sharp "eek!" several times throughout the movie, each time moving a little bit closer to him. By the time Indy had stowed away on the Nazi submarine, she was pressed against his side, her heart thudding quickly. Junior found himself rather glad that the lights were off, as it meant she couldn't see the expression on his face. However, he had a great deal of difficulty concentrating on the rest of the film.
When they got to what Ariana called the "face-melting scene," February let out a loud shriek and jumped right onto his lap, burying her face in his shirt.
"Oh, Junior," she whimpered softly, squeezing her eyes shut as she clung to him. He blinked in response, his brain suddenly becoming remarkably slow. He gently patted her on the back, prompting her to cuddle up closer to him.
"Hey, it's okay," he whispered gently once he remembered how to speak. "That part's over now. You can look."
She glanced up at him with wide, doe-like, bright blue eyes.
"Thanks, Junior," she whispered in return, giving a shaky smile as she went back to watching the movie. He noticed that she didn't get off of his lap.
Once the film finished, February turned around and looked at him, leaning forward slightly.
"So, what do you want to do now?" she asked with a small smirk. Junior stared at her for a moment, very much distracted by how close her face was, before replying.
"Um… um… I dunno… I could g-grab us something to eat, if you want?" he stuttered, feeling a blush creep back into his cheeks. "Y-yeah. I'll do that." He quickly got up- February barely got off of his lap in time- and jogged back upstairs.
He didn't look back, and he didn't see her disappointed pout or hear the muttered "Rats!"
The next Monday, Junior was walking from the school building to his car when four figures surrounded him.
"Er, hi," he greeted, confused, as he looked at the young men's angry faces. "Can I help you?"
"Yeah," their apparent leader snarled, backing him towards a wall. "You seem to be getting pretty chummy with February March."
"So what?" he replied, straightening up slightly and looking him straight in the eyes. He felt unusually brave.
"We don't like that," one of the others growled, his hands forming fists.
"Yeah. You better stay away from her," the leader snapped.
"What if I don't want to?" Junior retorted angrily. Who were they to tell him who he could and who he couldn't hang out with?
"Then this happens." A fist went flying towards his face, hitting him squarely in the nose.
"Ow!" he yelled, his hands going to his bleeding nose. "Joo punched me!"
Another fist hit his stomach in response, and he buckled over with a wince.
"Stob! What'd I ebber do t' joo?" he wheezed, glaring at his aggressors.
Maybe he should have just shut his mouth, as he was assailed by a barrage of blows that left him cowering on the ground. He was kicked, he was punched, his hair was pulled, and he was left with a large variety of bruises covering almost every inch of his skin. Junior was in tears at the end of it, as much as he hated to admit it. He wasn't very good at coping with pain- the last time he had been injured was eight years ago, when he sprained his wrist while playing baseball.
"My fader will hear abow dis," he whispered weakly, trying to stare down the bullies through the tears that blurred his vision. Their leader smirked down at him.
"Will he?" the young man drawled, crossing his arms. "I wouldn't recommend telling him."
"Whad's stobbing me?" Junior countered, trying to sound strong and failing.
"Well…" the bully replied, examining his fingernails nonchalantly, "I've seen your sister."
"Whad does dat hab to do wid anyding?"
"She's rather pretty. We wouldn't want anything to happen to her, now would we?" The bully grinned wickedly at Junior's horrified look before spitting in his face, adding another kick in the side for good measure. "Don't go running to Daddy, or something will."
The gang began to walk off, laughing cruelly and exchanging crude jokes. Junior stared after them, wiping the saliva off of his face with a wince. He slowly struggled to his feet, steadying himself on the brick wall. He felt his stomach lurch when he pulled his hand away and realized that it was covered in blood. His blood. It was only his nose that was bleeding, but it still wasn't pleasant. What sickened him even more, however, was the threat they had made towards Ariana.
Junior squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for his head to stop reeling.
He wouldn't tell his father. He couldn't let anything happen to Ariana… but he didn't want to give up talking to February, either.
He would just have to deal with the bullying, then. It was the only way.