Author's Note: I honestly have no justifiable excuse for how long it took me to return to FanFiction... The only possible excuse I can offer is that I'm a double major in college, and I took 18 credits last semester...and they ate me alive. (I still have no idea how I managed all A's and B's.)
However, here's this chapter, and the next chapter is partially written, and...I'm going to try to work on my other stories over the summer. No promises, though—I still need to find a job, and I don't want to promise something I can't deliver.
Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth or any other published work which I may quote or reference. This work is purely for the enjoyment of myself and others, not monetary gain.
PATIENCE IS NOT A VIRTUE
* * * 10 * * *
Knock, and the door will open...
Their date Friday had been surprisingly fun, even though she kept expecting an enraged Goblin King to appear halfway through. But Jareth had never appeared, and Fred turned out to be much more fun to talk to than she had expected. She'd read The Phantom of the Opera by then, and they'd had a long discussion at dinner afterwards about the differences between the movie and the book. She began eating with Fred and his friends at lunch in the school cafeteria, and it felt like she'd discovered a whole new world.
One where she belonged.
She felt incredibly nervous on the first day, especially when she realized that she was the only girl there, but after watching her like she was a new and unheard of species for a few minutes, the other boys relaxed and went back to their discussion—something hopelessly technical about computers on one side of the table, and an argument about a card game on the other.
The little remaining ice had shattered when she saw the cards and began trying to pick them up and look at them closer. The boys unanimously decided that if she was so fascinated by their cards, she'd have to learn to play Magic herself.
Two days later, while sitting with them before school started and playing against Jeremy (inexplicably known as Mary), she met Chris.
"Gods, but I hate being sick!" a voice snarled from a few feet away. Sarah jumped and looked up, wondering who would approach their table—she'd already met the whole group, she thought, and no else bothered to come near their corner of the cafeteria.
A short, slightly dumpy girl was slinging her belongings down on the dirty, fry-encrusted floor. A black shoulder bag with a faded band emblem on it, followed by a plaid backpack (held together by safety pins and almost empty). She had stripped off her winter coat and was unwinding her long scarf when she noticed Sarah. "Hello. You're new," she said in surprise.
Fred looked up and spotted the Mexican girl. "Oh, hey Chris, this is Sarah. We're...dating?" He looked at Sarah as though for confirmation, but she was too caught up in watching the other girl, who seemed so at home among the male-dominated nerd tables. "Sarah, this is Christina—but she goes by Chris."
"Hi," Sarah said, sounding slightly surprised. "I didn't know there were any other girls here."
"Well, the boob jobs do usually sit over there," Chris replied, jerking her thumb at the table where the preps usually sat. Melissa and her friends were leaning over a magazine spread on the table, though one of them was touching up her makeup. "But I've figured out that keeping these cave dwellers in line is easier than sitting through their self-centered idiocy. How'd you meet?"
"Sarah came into the bookstore where I work, and then we went to see Phantom," Fred supplied easily.
"Any good?"
"Ah—Erik was cute," Sarah put in. "But it wasn't like the book, and Raoul was kind of an idiot. I didn't like him."
"No one does. Mary, leave her cards alone!"
Jeremy looked up guiltily, caught in the process of stealing one of the monsters from Sarah's deck. "I didn't do it!" he protested uselessly.
"Yeah right. So what've y'all been up to while I was out?"
Years later, Sarah would wonder if the introduction to your best friend wasn't supposed to be more—dramatic, more memorable, but she eventually realized that life had enough drama without trying to look for more.
It was the week before spring break when Chris surprised her with a question. "So, what are you doing prom weekend? We're having a party at my house; we're going to watch Star Wars, play Magic, and generally avoid all mention of the brainwashed hellspawn that is the spring formal."
Sarah suddenly felt nauseous. "My stepmom's making me go," she admitted, sounding sick.
Across the table, Jeremy started laughing obnoxiously, and Fred pushed him off his chair into Alex, who walloped him.
"Ow, really? That sucks. Can't you tell her you...wait, this is Karen, evil bitch extraordinaire. Never mind," Chris sympathized.
"She already bought my ticket and dress," Sarah mourned.
"I thought parents couldn't do that," Chris objected.
"They can if they're supervising the prom committee," Sarah grimaced.
"So why's she making you go?" Alex asked, leaning in after successfully subduing Jeremy.
"She thinks I need friends and to be popular," Sarah scorned bitterly.
"And what are we?" Jeremy asked, sticking out his scrawny chest and gesturing dramatically.
"We are socially retarded, morally degenerate drug addicts who don't know how to survive in real life...at least according to her, right, Sarah?" Chris asked.
Sarah grimaced.
"Thought so. She's just like my dad; thinks he knows so much when he can't be bothered to look at you for two seconds and see what you're really like. But you, Mary, are an immature twit."
"Am not!"
Chris shrugged. "Anything I can do to help, Sarah?" she asked, ignoring his rebuttal.
Sarah grimaced again. "I really don't want to go alone, but I can't ask any of you to torture yourselves by going with me—especially since it's so expensive, and it sounds like you've already got plans."
"Wait—aren't I your boyfriend?" Fred interjected, grabbing her and hugging her suddenly. "I'll take you. We can be fish out of water together!"
Jareth watched the exchange from his kingdom. Cracks were threatening to appear in the crystal ball from how tightly he was holding it, but he barely noticed.
"I gave her time to herself, to realize how inadequate that boy is," he snarled. "I let her think that I would leave her alone. I let her see me as a safe, unthreatening friend...but this is unacceptable!"
Her heart was still too innocent not to be captivated by the sort of pageantry and novelty that a formal dance would offer, and he couldn't allow that. She was his.
It may have been partially his fault, for dwelling on her too long, but that was in the past. Right now, he needed a way to remove her precious Frankelick from the picture while, of course, leaving him perfectly innocent in her eyes.
And then, he knew, there was nothing but to wait...
January and February became March and April, and, quite suddenly, it was the week of prom.
"Wait—she thinks you need a manicure?" Chris asked, half amused, half offended.
"Yeah, and she won't let me choose anything," Sarah replied, grimacing. "Even after I told her I found a date and would go, she still wouldn't let me choose anything. She says I'd only botch it."
"Living vicariously, much?" Chris scorned.
Sarah just rolled her eyes.
"You know, I bet she was always the ugly, unpopular kid when she was in school, so that's why she's doing this to you now," her friend suggested. "That'd explain why she's always pushing you to introduce yourself to Melissa."
Sarah snorted. "As if I'd want to get to know that harpy."
Fred lumbered over to the table and fell into his seat, pushing his hands through his hair.
"You look awful," Chris observed. "What's up?"
Fred winced. "It's Zach. The little guy's come down with something, and he's been coughing and sniffling all weekend. Mom's about at wit's end—she's got no idea what he has, but she feels guilty 'cause he feels so miserable all the time."
Sarah's expression fell. She'd visited his house once and met his little brother. "The poor guy—he should be out playing, not stuck inside sick! Is there anything I can do?" she asked, reaching over and hugging her boyfriend.
"No... I just feel so bad for him. We share a room, so I hear him coughing and tossing and turning all night long, but I can't do anything to help him." Fred sighed again, shaking his head.
"Better hope you don't catch it!" Jeremy guffawed. "Not before prom." He mimed kissing at Chris, who elbowed him.
"Mary, stop being a jerk," Alex said succinctly as he doubled over.
That was Monday. By Thursday, Fred—now sniffling ominously himself—reported that Zach was well on his way to mending, but then he was out of school Friday.
Sarah, who'd initially given no thought to the possible consequences of Zach's sickness, called his house after school.
When his mom told her that "I'm sorry, dear, but Fred can't talk right now—I think he got what Zach had, but worse," Sarah's stomach dropped.
Her prom date had come down with a week-long stomach flu the day before prom...and she had no escape route now.