Previously on Buffy: The band has a lock-in and the Scoobies have a grand old time. Spike challenges Buffy to a basketball game, and she beats him...barely. A walk outside leads to a scene bubbling with UST, and Buffy is left bothered and bewildered as she tries to figure out what on earth she was thinking…
First day of school, first day of school…what to wear? Sexy, not slutty, yet says, 'I wanna learn.' Buffy leafed through her closet, trying to pick out just the right ensemble for her senior year debut. Two weeks of summer band didn't constitute as school, and while she wasn't nervous, she was a senior now, and wanted to make a good impression.
Finally, after much deliberation, she picked out a denim mini skirt; mid-thigh, not inappropriate and not overdressed. She selected a while baby doll tee with a glittering blue star in the middle to accompany it and pulled on her nearly brand new white sneakers. She loosely swept up half of her hair, leaving the rest to cascade around her shoulders, framing her face in a fluffy golden cloud.
Buffy stared long and hard into the mirror, did a little wiggle and pirouette, and decided on a thin chain belt and little silver hoop earrings to complete her outfit. She scrutinized herself once more and squinted critically at her makeup. Finally satisfied, she rushed downstairs with her instrument and backpack, trotting into the kitchen where she downed a glass of juice in record time before turning to her mother.
"Hey, Mom," she greeted, subtly adjusting her skirt for Mom-inspection with her perfectly manicured fingers.
"Hi, honey…no band today?"
"Nope. Well, we have class, but Mr. Giles gave us a break." Giles had given them the day off, letting them show up at regular hours instead of their usual 7 am rehearsal. He did this every year on the first day of school, so it was to be expected; but it was still a gesture for which the entire band was grateful.
"Oh," Joyce replied with tea-party interest. "Would you like me to drive you? Or is Xander coming to pick you up?"
Buffy knew her mother was familiar with first day of school routine, but Joyce Summers was a woman of habit. These once a year questions had become as regular to Buffy as clockwork, tedious as they were, so she dutifully replied, "I was gonna walk, but…" The teen smiled hopefully at her mother.
"Right," the older of the two Summers replied with a grin. "Keys." She abruptly set down her mug of steaming coffee and made her way out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Buffy stared after her, then pouted as she examined her glittering fingernails. Even as a senior she wasn't allowed to take the car out…talk about unfair. She sighed as she gathered up her things and waited by the door.
"Bye, Mom!"
Buffy turned with a final wave and walked up the wide stone steps of Sunnydale High. She pushed through the door and looked around, a bit dazed by the unusually crowded hallways. Farewell sweet summer…she thought to herself.
"Hey, Buff!" Willow called from across the hall, waving her down breathlessly. "We've been looking for you."
"Where is everybody?" Buffy asked as she reached her friend, standing her ground against the people ruthlessly jostling her about.
"Band room. I already set up my flute." She used Buffy's shoulder to brace herself against the teeming mass of her peers. "Whaddaya have after band?" she asked with the Willow-enthusiasm only she could muster when it came to matters of school.
Buffy dug in her backpack as she walked, pulling out a rumpled, crinkled schedule. Its sad state quite effectively demonstrated how not enthused she was about such matters. She smoothed it out as best as she could and read, "Math. Then computers, lunch, English, Physics…then yay! Kickboxing."
"You're taking kickboxing?"
"Yeah. You?"
Willow shook her head and replied, having already memorized her schedule, "Math…darn it. That's all I have with you."
"Damn…"
They made it to the band room and entered. If possible, the din increased, the raucous beat of drums and cacophony of instruments joining in with the already loud chorus of voices flooding in from the hallway. Willow and Buffy gave up on conversation and parted ways, Buffy fighting her way to her seat. Tara was already there and Buffy greeted her as she quickly pulled out and assembled her clarinet, which she had happily named Mr. Pointy, much to the amusement of all her friends. She'd endured the taunting and the name stuck.
Buffy flipped through her binder for an etude to warm up on, but Mr. Giles appeared and silenced them to announce, "All right everyone, today after warm up we'll move outside to learn the last few pages of our show."
A collective groan rose up from the band, but Buffy dutifully remained silent. Have to set a good example…She rolled her eyes, dreading the outdoor heat just as much as anyone, but trying to be 'mature'. They launched into the first notes of the day and Buffy relaxed in her seat, music calming her like nothing else could. She let her eyes wander as she played through the long chords designed to get the band in tune. As her gaze drifted to the left, towards the back of the room, she noticed Spike standing in front of the drumline, nailing out an intense beat on his snare.
She continued to watch him out of the corner of her eye, and her gaze gradually drifted to his face. She was startled when her eyes met his, and she immediately turned around. He was staring at her! Unconsciously, her eyes darted back to him and she was alarmed to find him still watching her.
He gave a small nod in greeting and ran his tongue over his lip, causing her to flush while she unconsciously sat straighter and tried to look pretty, a difficult task given her instrument of choice. Why didn't I pick flute? she wondered. Then her senses kicked in and she realized that it was Spike who was looking at her and there was no way in hell she cared what he thought. She immediately turned to face Mr. Giles, horribly embarrassed, ignoring the flush that had now spread over her entire body.
In the back of the room, Spike continued drumming, a tiny smirk curving over his lips, his gaze fixed on the slim blonde fidgeting in the front row.
Buffy sighed when the lunch bell rang; signaling her half hour of freedom was over. She was in no mood for English. She walked into C242, the English class, and was surprised to see that the teacher, Mrs. Laurens, actually looked quite young, with dark hair pulled back into a bun. Buffy smiled at her and took a seat near the front.
When everyone had settled down, the teacher began to call roll. Buffy zoned out until she heard, "Anne? Anne Summers?"
"Um, its Buffy," she corrected quietly. She hated when teachers did that. Just how long had they been reading scanners anyway?
"Right. Sorry about that."
Buffy zoned out again until those annoying little cards were passed out that asked you your preferred name, hobbies, and career aspirations. Its not like the teachers ever read them anyway, it was more the pressure to feign interest in student's lives than anything else. She filled it out quickly and passed it to the girl in front of her, a snobby brunette named Cordelia Chase. Buffy rolled her eyes when she saw the girl's career aspiration…'professional cheerleader.'
She felt a tap on her shoulder and reached back to take the form. Several masculine fingers brushed her own and she looked at the card. 'William- '
No. She looked down. 'Preferred name: Spike'
She tensed and quickly passed the card up, not even bothering to be nosy and read the rest like she usually did.
Spike was behind her? Was someone out to get her? She panicked but then relaxed. She'd just switch seats next time.
"All right, now that I have all you're forms, I'll pass out this seating chart. I want you all to write your names in the slot you're sitting in now. This isn't brain surgery, so figure it out. This will be you're seat for the rest of the semester…"
She rolled her eyes in despair. Today was not her day…
Buffy met Willow in the hall before her next class. "Wills, guess who's behind me in English!"
"Ooh, a cute guy?" The redhead brightened.
"I wish. Try annoyingly stupid peroxide guy." Buffy sulked.
"Spike?" Willow paused, then took Buffy's silence as assent. "It is Spike, right?"
Another pause.
Buffy's frown deepened, erasing the last of Willow's doubt.
"Oh. Well, that's not too bad. It could have been Jonathan…or Andrew."
"Ugh. Please. Fidel Castrate would be an improvement..."
"Castro?"
"That's the one. That dictatory guy. In Mexico. I'd rather have him behind me than Spike."
"Yeah, only, fourth year English class? Not really his thing; unless, you know, it happens to be his thing. Which I don't think it is…"
"But Spike," Buffy pressed the issue. "Why couldn't I have a lice eating monkey behind me instead?" The bell rang and she began to walk off, continuing to herself, "I hate Spike."
Buffy walked into her house and into the living room where she immediately flopped down on the couch. Not only was Spike in her English class, he was with her in Physics, too. She had a feeling she was going to be very grateful she had kickboxing after two hours with him everyday. Very grateful.
She lay there, watching the clock. It was 4:15. Willow and Anya were supposed to come over at 5:30. They were gonna have pizza and then head over to the Bronze. Guy hunting. Or rather, guy hunting for Buffy, as she was the only single one.
With a groan, Buffy rolled up onto her feet and went upstairs to get ready, ransacking her closet for the perfect outfit. Skirt. Black. About three inches shorter than the one she'd worn to school. She pulled on a red tube top and added a black denim jacket over it to tone down the ho-factor. Not wanting to tone it down too much, however, she knocked it up a notch with some strappy heels and then took a break to call the pizza in. Extra cheese and pepperoni; just the way she liked it…
She had just finished straightening her hair when the doorbell rang. A distracted glance at the clock told her it was 5:17, so either her friends were early or the pizza was here. She was guessing the latter. She bounced down the steps and threw open the door to greet the college age delivery guy. The yummy, drool worthy college age delivery guy…
"Hi. That'll be…$12.32." He looked up. Buffy told herself to close her mouth and stop salivating.
"Just a sec." She ran to the counter where the money lie in wait. Scooping it up, she hurried back to the door and adjusted her hair before handing him fourteen dollars; slyly letting their fingertips brush.
"Thanks…" He offered up the pizza and questioned, "Uh…mind if I ask you your name?"
"No, I wouldn't. I might even answer." She smiled coyly as she took it, admiring the way his sandy brown hair flopped adorably over his eyes. "Buffy. And you?" This guy was definitely delicious.
"Riley." He gestured nervously towards his nametag. "Riley Finn."
"Well, nice to meet you, Riley Finn," she said flirtily, toying with one of her now perfectly straight locks.
"L-likewise."
She gave another coy smile and said, "Well, pizza. No one likes cold pizza. Unless you do happen to like cold pizza but, I don't…"
"Right." He backed away, smiling slightly. "I'll be seeing you," he said hopefully.
"Yeah." She turned and moved to close the door. "I'll uh, be at the Bronze tonight if you wanna show…" she added with one last smile before shutting it and clicking the lock into place. She set the pizza on the counter and went back up to her room to apply her makeup.
Eyeliner, check. Triple thick mascara, check. Lipliner, check. Very berry gloss, check. Coal eyeshadow with sparkles…no. She frowned and quickly pulled it out and smeared some across her upper lashline, then stepped back to admire her handiwork.
Perfect. It made her look sultry…seductive. Guys of the Bronze beware, she thought.
Just then the bell rang again. She walked down to open the door.
Anya and Willow waited on the other side; Anya in low-slung jeans and a sparkly backless top, Willow in a knee length denim skirt and black short sleeved top. "Hey, guys," Buffy greeted. "Cheesy goodness in the kitchen..."
"Yum," Willow said. "All that marching made me hungry."
Willow, that was hours ago. You can't possibly be hungry from this morning. I saw you eat that peanut butter sandwich at lunch," Anya reasoned.
"True. But who can resist the allure of pizza? Plus, I've gotta get my energy up so I can boogie down!" Willow grinned happily.
They walked in and went to the kitchen, opening the box eagerly. "Buffy, I love your outfit," Anya said as she bit into her first slice of pizza. "It's very…flag-girlish. In fact, without the jacket, I could easily mistake you for one of them…"
"Thanks Anya," Buffy laughed, not at all offended by her friend's bluntness. "It's the look I was going for. I'm on the man hunt tonight."
"Good for you, Buffy," Willow praised. "Get yourself a guy. As for me, I can only browse. No purchases for Willow. But that could be because I already got the best one. On sale too…"
Buffy listened for a minute as the other two argued over the merits of Oz and Xander, then ventured, "Speaking of…the guy that delivered the pizza was a cutie. Plus," she twirled some cheese around her finger. "I think he was in college."
"College guys are always a plus; what with the sex experience and extra cash. Name?" Anya looked interested.
"Riley Finn. He seemed nice. I told him we were going Bronzin'. Think he'll show?"
"I'll bet. Ooh, I wanna see him." Willow seemed excited now, too.
"But…I don't know. He was probably just being polite…" She seemed eager to change the subject. "You guys wanna head out now? It's almost 6:30. Mom wants me home by nine."
"Nine?" Anya scoffed. "Did you remind her that we're seniors now? Your mom is seriously overprotective."
"I know," Buffy sighed. "But there's no changing her mind, so we should get going."
The girls threw the empty box in the trash and breezed out the door.
Guys, I know the wait was forever; and for a pretty unsatisfactory chapter, but school is keeping me constantly stressed out and I have zero writing time. I'm so sorry. Don't give up on me…this will get finished, I swear. I work on it whenever I have a chance, so please read and review to keep me motivated. I grovel before you all…
