Chapter Four- Freshly Fallen Snow

The big guy lumbered into the principal's office his sister lingering closely at his side, "Mom and Dad are soooo pissed at you."His sister reiterated something that she'd spoken earlier that morning piquing the blonde's interest. He looked at her confused.

"Yeah? You said that earlier."He shrugged, and Frost gave him a soft punch to the arm.

"No. I mean, I think this is why they're mad. I know it sounds crazy, but you saw mom and dad this morning, they didn't seem mad. And yet, I distinctively remember seeing them practically enraged with you."The smaller blonde girl whispered as she took a seat to wait for the principal to call them in. From the looks of it, at the moment Serah was in there, talking to Mr. McCalky at the moment.

Just looking at her, Snow could tell that Frost was really worried about whatever she thought she saw, so he turned his attention from the top of the rosette haired girl's head and back to his sister.

"So, what, you have visions?" He was joking. That much was obvious, he was trying to play it off to ease her mind. He wasn't going to think any less of her if she was a psychic, sometimes odd things happened to average people. It was a fact of life.

"I think so? I don't know. I feel like a freak."

"Hey now, don't talk about yourself like that. We'll keep this between us for now, until you're ready to talk to somebody about it, okay?"It wasn't like he could see any immediate danger from him not telling someone, and until he did, it'd be their secret. His sister's wellbeing always came first. No matter what. "And besides, look at it this way, you can do something awesome that no one else can do."

He was flashing a goofy grin now, lopsided and too familiar to his muscles. It was easy to hold the expression, until the door of the small office opened and out stepped the tiny rose haired girl that had been the sole reason he'd given up his clean streak. As she was walking out. His foster parents were walking in.

Wonderful.

Just what he needed right now.

The four of them all made their way into the Mr. McCalky's office, and Snow found himself leaning against a wall leaving the seats for the adults and his sister. There was a slight air of frustration hovering around him, though not quite tangible if anyone focused hard enough they'd notice. Though he doubted in a few moments that anyone would be interested in anything but the endless parade of lecturing words that'd be falling from the lips of his foster mother at any moment.

Just as he'd called it, it was a matter of seconds, and his foster mother was lecturing him about fighting and apologizing to the middle aged male behind the desk. He gave a silent roll of his eyes, the motion subtle and made in an attempt to go unnoticed. For the most part it had, aside from Frost who had angled herself in the chair to look at him.

His foster mother prattled on, dyed black hair shifting with every motion she made, which made it shift every few seconds as she frantically gestured with her hands. He watched as the pale aged hand of his foster father moved to take one of hers into it. And he heaved a sigh. Finally coming back into the conversation.

"You could've put that boy in a coma!"

To be completely honest, when he'd started that was what he was aiming for. What he'd done to Serah was uncalled for and extremely cruel, on a level entirely different from anything he'd seen.

"Could've. But I didn't. I may have a temper but I'm not that cruel."No. He only had a temper when it came to those he was close to, and the innocent.

His attention turned back to the aged male, who was pulling out his checkbook. The other thing those two were best at, buying their way out of trouble. Especially trouble of this caliber. Or as he was sure to hear when they returned back to the Manor house, his trouble, because from the way they spoke of him, he was the cause of all of their problems. The bane of their very existence.

He was okay with that.

He could live with that.

In fact, he'd begun to embrace it. He wasn't going to change himself for the sake of their family name. If they were so worried about it, they'd likely just get rid of him anyway, then he and Frost would be off to find a new foster home, hopefully it'd be one that didn't really care what they did. That'd be pretty great.

Then again, there was always the option of emancipation. After all, he did have a job, that paid pretty decent, and a car that he'd saved up to buy. It wasn't like he couldn't do it on his own, he just wasn't entirely sure that he could support himself and Frost.

He looked down to check his watch and then his attention turned back up to his parents, who were rising from their chairs. His father looked up at him, and spoke the first two words he'd spoken since they'd arrived, wasn't he a man of many words. "Straight home."

He was probably referring to the fact that Snow would definitely be taking his bike, and his sister home, and of course they'd want him to go straight home so that he could never hear the end of it once he got there.

Whatever it's not like it mattered.

They'd talk. He'd listen. Then the next time someone was in trouble it'd be like it went through one ear and out the other. That was just how things worked.

"See you at home."

Not that he really wanted to. As you could probably tell, Snow wasn't all that great with authority. In fact, he could hardly tolerate his teachers. There was something about people cramming law and order down his throat that drove him up a wall. And yet still, he tried to remain as polite as possible, because it was who he was. How he worked. He was hardly ever rude, even when people deserved it. Even when people treated him like crap. Funny how it worked wasn't it. It took a whole lot to make him angry. Unless you were hurting someone innocent and undeserving of being hurt, then he'd get furious quicker than you could snap your fingers.

He straightened up and walked from the room, down the hallway that was slowly filling up with students, as he moved towards his locker to gather his things and grab the keys to his bike and his helmet. If anything he was efficient when it came to safety.

Frost caught up to him a few moments after he'd arrived at his locker, her helmet in hand, and her backpack secured over her shoulders, likely carrying all of her of homework. She accepted the few books that he'd offered her from his own locker, removing the back to place them inside it, then he jingled his keys, snagged his helmet and they headed towards the door.

-/-

It didn't take long for him to get the bike started and get on the road, and much to his utter disappointment, it'd taken even less time for him and Frost to arrive at the manor house that they called home. When they entered the front door, he headed straight towards his room, and much to his shock, there was nothing. No response to the fight, nothing. There was hushed conversation from the kitchen that he'd heard but couldn't make out when he'd walked in. But other than that, it seemed that he was free and clear, which was amazingly shocking.

He allowed himself to lay out across his bed, which had been tailor made just to fit his massive form, and he attempted to relax, though the idea was easier said than done. They'd called Frost down for dinner, obviously they were mad considering he didn't get called, and he didn't really mind, he wasn't really all that hungry anyway.

It was hard to have an appetite when the only thing that had been running through his mind since he'd fallen into bed was the look on Serah's face when he'd saw her last, he could see fear, sadness, and something else on her face as she'd been walking out of the office. In passing he'd remembered the way her hands clenched at the fabric of the skirt she was wearing.

He didn't even want to think about the way she looked so tense when she'd walked past him. He'd really done a number on her hadn't he.

There was a knock on his bedroom door, familiar, and coded in a rhythm that only Frost used. "Yeah?"He called towards the door, awaiting an answer as he pushed himself up right.

"You need to get ready for the Historical Society Gala. Mom and Dad are going to be even madder if you don't."

No way he was putting on that stuffy suit they'd bought for this thing. He never wore it any other time, what made this time different. He shook his head, they wanted him dressed up he'd wear his own clothes, at least they were comfortable. He pulled a few articles of clothing free from his closet on a whim, just picking whatever and tossing it onto the bed. The black ensemble had to be the nicest thing he owned.

They were lucky they were getting that much out of him after the day he'd had.

Oh well.

He was sure that Serah was worth all the trouble.

Of that much, he was positive.