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I'm calling Fred Freddie because I have a soft spot for him. Poor poppet, all he wants is for those nasty people to stop laughing at him. He's a tortured soul, I tell you. A tortured soul!
Some of you might be wondering about the time frame. Congratulations, so am I! Let's just say Wanda isn't on the scene, but there are hints of her presence in Pietro's past if you want them.
Yes.. I am as childish as Todd, the teacher is called Jenny Taylor purely because it sounds like genitalia.
Notice that Lance is the only person who says Pietro's name right in this chapter. There is a reason for this.
*
"Um. You've practised driving before this, yo?"
Lance shook his head, sticking his keys in the ignition. "Nope."
Todd turned a sickly shade of green. "D-don't you think you might be kinda. shaky on the road for the first time in.. what, two months?"
"You can always walk instead, Todd. Fred tells me the two of you enjoyed that very much."
The Todd reflected in the rearview mirrow scowled in typical teenage boy- esque style. Walking five miles to school and back every day had been torture; he was sure Freddie had gone into cardiac arrest on several occasions, and lugging his huge form all the way to Bayville High had almost crippled him. He was pretty sure that so much walking was making him 'lose his hop', and without his hop, what was he? A lizard?
"Just be careful," he warned Lance in a shaky voice.
"Yes, mother." Lance blew his fringe out of his eyes and beeped the horn impatiently. "PIETRO GET YOUR SKINNY ASS DOWN HERE IF YOU WANT A RIDE!"
Todd snickered. He saw Lance's eyes narrow in the rearview mirror.
"Grow up, Tolensky."
After deducing that Pietro and Lance were now an item, Todd had found a new game in the form of Spot-The-Innuendo. Now Lance had to be very careful about what he said, for Pietro, sharp as he was, had not cottoned on to Todd's game yet.
"I'm coming!" he called from the bathroom window, sending Todd into fits of hysterical laughter. Seconds later, he was there in the passenger seat with not a hair out of place. Lance hated it when he did that.
"Where's Freddie?"
"Mystique's got him."
Pietro winced. "Rather him than me."
There was a short silence, stating Lance and Todd's simultaneous agreement.
"First day back, Pietro," Lance grinned as he pulled out of the driveway. "Think you can handle this?"
"Piece of cake," Pietro smirked. Lance noticed that the smirk didn't quite reach his eyes, realising how transparent Pietro's façade had become after he'd seen him broken into a thousand pieces. "I forgot to tell you, Lance, you have a geometry test today."
"Nugh?" Lance raised an eyebrow. Driving felt completely alien to him, and he was having to concentrate far more than usual. So far, he already taken two wrong turns and he wasn't out on the main road yet.
"Yeaaaaahhh," Pietro's eyes met his in the mirror with a faint wicked glint. "A big, long, hard one."
Todd could barely contain himself. Pietro gave him a puzzled look as the amphibeous mutant clutched his stomach, struggling for air as his laughter came out in a donkey's bray.
"Big, long, hard one.." gasped Todd, wiping his eyes as his laughter died down. "You'd know, wouldn't ya, Piet?"
Pietro merely blinked. "Huh...? SHIT! Lance, watch that fucking old lady!"
Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech!
Yes, today was going to be a very, very long day.
*
Bitch, Pietro silently told the back of Pryde's offending head. Bitch bitch bitch, you stay away from Lance and his damn hormones.
"And what do you think the belladonna is symbolic of, Pi-etro?"
Stupid drunken whore, I'll rip those stupid bobbles right out of your hair and feed them to-
"Huh?"
"The belladonna, Pi-etro. What does it symbolise?"
"Uhhh." He absent-mindedly stared at the cover of Hartley's 'The Go- Between' as if it would grow lips and tell him the answer. "Poison?"
"Poison.." Miss Jenny Taylor sat on the edge of her desk, crossing and uncrossing her legs. "You could say that, but what exactly is the poison?"
Kitty stuck up her hand. Miss Taylor ignored it and pushed her glasses down her nose a little.
"Pi-etro, can you elaborate on what you think the poison is?"
"Um... No-o."
"Have you even read the book?"
"Yes, yes I have, Miss Taylor. I loved every word."
Miss Taylor gave him a warm smile. All the teachers loved Pietro, he had a certain unmatchable charm. Of course, he was terribly attention-seeking but they let this go, considering his rather fat file in the counsellor's office.
"What I'm saying, Miss Taylor, is that I couldn't even begin to describe this poison. It's so.. er.. so intricately constructed by the wonderful Hartley. The imagery.. it's.. simply delightful," said Pietro in his smoothest, nicest voice. He liked to flirt with Miss Jenny Taylor. She always flirted back and made him feel special.
"Oh, you do talk such bullshit Maximoff," she drawled in a mockery of a long-suffering voice. "So can anybody tell me what the significance of the belladonna is?"
Kitty was practically jumping out of her chair. Her arm was getting tired and she was now holding it up with her other hand, waving it in the hope to be seen.
Miss Taylor, of course, ignored her female students. What fun were they, after all? Muttering something about going to the photo-copier, she made her way to the football pitch for a quick cigarette.
Kitty slumped back into her chair, crossing her arms and pouting. Ha ha, Pietro thought immaturely. Ha bloody ha.
"Is Lance in?" she asked, turning around with such force that Pietro almost fell off his chair in shock. He was, of course, much too cool to actually do such a thing.
"What's it to you if he is?" Pietro asked, panic secretly beginning to turn his stomach.
"We need to talk," said Kitty stiffly. Pietro could see that she was trying to stop her lip from trembling, and for this he added another childish Ha ha on her behalf.
"Talk?" Pietro leant back in his chair, going into the age-old defence mechanism of Wanker-Mode. "I wasn't aware that you and Lance ever did any of that."
Kitty's eyes widened in horror. "You. He told you..?"
"Yeah," Pietro leaned in closer, adopting an 'indifferently concerned' expression. "Listen, Shi. Kitty. I wouldn't try talking to Lance if I were you. Take it from somebody who knows the guy, he's not worth it. Move on."
Inside, Pietro was feeling that he might keel over at any given point from anxiety. He had to stop Kitty from seeing Lance. He didn't care if it was selfish or manipulative, it wasn't like he was a Good Samaritan anyway. It wasn't fair that he should finally have something of his own and have it stolen right from under his nose by an X-Geek who, in his opinion, was remarkably plain. There was no way he was going to stand by and let another person he loved be taken away from him, the first time had torn him apart. Eventually, he would let Lance go, but for now he wanted him; his taste, his touch, his smell, his body and his heart.
"Whatever, PeeeeeeeAYtrrrrooh."
God, but he hated the way she said his name! It was all over-enunciated, every letter was strained and pronounced like she was trying to impress foreigners by using 'their language.' Ugh. He shuddered.
"No no, seriously, you don't wanna talk to him! Kitty, this is for your own good. C'm'on, I'm trying to help you out here. Lance is a jerk, okay, he only ever wanted to screw you."
Which primarily was true. It was not, however, the best thing to say to an already emotional Kitty Pryde. Her eyes filled and she bit down hard on her lower lip. Pietro almost felt bad for her, that is, until he remembered that she was his adversary. She was the temptress, the one who'd stolen Lance and god knows she'd do it again at the drop of a hat. She would take Lance from him and leave him all alone, leave him to his twisted little mind. Pietro couldn't have that- he was afraid to be alone because he feared himself.
"I deserve to hear it from him," sniffed Kitty. The bell rang, and she began to pack up her stuff. "We both have this period free, I'll-"
"NO!" Pietro feared that if he had not been holding a large pile of books, he would have latched on to her ankle in desperation. "Please don't talk to him."
Kitty wiped her eyes across her sleeve, staring at him questioningly. "Give me one good reason not to."
"Because," Pietro set his jaw. Desperation had won. "I don't want you to."
If Kitty had ever sworn in her whole life, then 'What the fuck?' would have perfectly complimented the expression on her face.
"You're, like, totally freaking me out, PeeeeAYtrroooh. What happened between me and Lance is none of your business. And." she trailed off, her eyes suddenly lighting up with a revelation. "I know what this is about. You want to keep Lance to yourself, don't you? You've looked after him for two months and now you can't bear to let him out of your sight. It's all about control, isn't it? All those times I called and you said he wasn't there.. You didn't want him to talk to me then and you don't now. Well, let me tell now, PeeeeAYtrrrroooh- Get. A. Life. Or at least get some, like, professional help."
And with that, Kitty flicked her hair and walked out of Miss Jenny Taylor's classroom.
*
Pietro felt a warm, heavy hand on his shoulder as he put his books away. He didn't need to turn around to see whose hand it was, he knew the feel and the smell of it. Lance.
"You holding up okay?" Lance asked, concern evident in his eyes and voice. He gave Pietro's shoulder a small, reassuring rub.
"You think it too," Pietro hissed, neither physically nor mentally strong enough to remove Lance's hand. "Everybody thinks I'm crazy."
Lance's eyes grew softer, his voice quieter and deeper. "I don't think you're crazy. Did something happen today?"
"Oh, yeah," Pietro leaned his forehead against the cool metal of his locker and laughed bitterly. "Kitty happened."
What had really upset Pietro was not Kitty's comment about his mental state, but the fact that she had figured him out so well. Now he was worried that he was obsessing over Lance, desperate to control his life. He'd always thought he was crazy, but he'd never thought that his love could be a kind of madness before. Was it a destructive love, one of those terrible powerful ''til death do us part' loves in which the tormented one eventually takes an axe to his beloved to literally sever the ties? Shit, everything was so insane. Love shouldn't have to be painful, yet now it seemed every kiss with Lance was a kiss of death and why? Because of him. Because he was crazy. He couldn't hold on and he couldn't let go, he couldn't be with him and he couldn't be without him.
"Never mind," Pietro said, forcing himself out of his doubt and sadness. Lance trusted him. Lance didn't think he was crazy.
That was enough, for now, to make him stay.
I'm calling Fred Freddie because I have a soft spot for him. Poor poppet, all he wants is for those nasty people to stop laughing at him. He's a tortured soul, I tell you. A tortured soul!
Some of you might be wondering about the time frame. Congratulations, so am I! Let's just say Wanda isn't on the scene, but there are hints of her presence in Pietro's past if you want them.
Yes.. I am as childish as Todd, the teacher is called Jenny Taylor purely because it sounds like genitalia.
Notice that Lance is the only person who says Pietro's name right in this chapter. There is a reason for this.
*
"Um. You've practised driving before this, yo?"
Lance shook his head, sticking his keys in the ignition. "Nope."
Todd turned a sickly shade of green. "D-don't you think you might be kinda. shaky on the road for the first time in.. what, two months?"
"You can always walk instead, Todd. Fred tells me the two of you enjoyed that very much."
The Todd reflected in the rearview mirrow scowled in typical teenage boy- esque style. Walking five miles to school and back every day had been torture; he was sure Freddie had gone into cardiac arrest on several occasions, and lugging his huge form all the way to Bayville High had almost crippled him. He was pretty sure that so much walking was making him 'lose his hop', and without his hop, what was he? A lizard?
"Just be careful," he warned Lance in a shaky voice.
"Yes, mother." Lance blew his fringe out of his eyes and beeped the horn impatiently. "PIETRO GET YOUR SKINNY ASS DOWN HERE IF YOU WANT A RIDE!"
Todd snickered. He saw Lance's eyes narrow in the rearview mirror.
"Grow up, Tolensky."
After deducing that Pietro and Lance were now an item, Todd had found a new game in the form of Spot-The-Innuendo. Now Lance had to be very careful about what he said, for Pietro, sharp as he was, had not cottoned on to Todd's game yet.
"I'm coming!" he called from the bathroom window, sending Todd into fits of hysterical laughter. Seconds later, he was there in the passenger seat with not a hair out of place. Lance hated it when he did that.
"Where's Freddie?"
"Mystique's got him."
Pietro winced. "Rather him than me."
There was a short silence, stating Lance and Todd's simultaneous agreement.
"First day back, Pietro," Lance grinned as he pulled out of the driveway. "Think you can handle this?"
"Piece of cake," Pietro smirked. Lance noticed that the smirk didn't quite reach his eyes, realising how transparent Pietro's façade had become after he'd seen him broken into a thousand pieces. "I forgot to tell you, Lance, you have a geometry test today."
"Nugh?" Lance raised an eyebrow. Driving felt completely alien to him, and he was having to concentrate far more than usual. So far, he already taken two wrong turns and he wasn't out on the main road yet.
"Yeaaaaahhh," Pietro's eyes met his in the mirror with a faint wicked glint. "A big, long, hard one."
Todd could barely contain himself. Pietro gave him a puzzled look as the amphibeous mutant clutched his stomach, struggling for air as his laughter came out in a donkey's bray.
"Big, long, hard one.." gasped Todd, wiping his eyes as his laughter died down. "You'd know, wouldn't ya, Piet?"
Pietro merely blinked. "Huh...? SHIT! Lance, watch that fucking old lady!"
Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech!
Yes, today was going to be a very, very long day.
*
Bitch, Pietro silently told the back of Pryde's offending head. Bitch bitch bitch, you stay away from Lance and his damn hormones.
"And what do you think the belladonna is symbolic of, Pi-etro?"
Stupid drunken whore, I'll rip those stupid bobbles right out of your hair and feed them to-
"Huh?"
"The belladonna, Pi-etro. What does it symbolise?"
"Uhhh." He absent-mindedly stared at the cover of Hartley's 'The Go- Between' as if it would grow lips and tell him the answer. "Poison?"
"Poison.." Miss Jenny Taylor sat on the edge of her desk, crossing and uncrossing her legs. "You could say that, but what exactly is the poison?"
Kitty stuck up her hand. Miss Taylor ignored it and pushed her glasses down her nose a little.
"Pi-etro, can you elaborate on what you think the poison is?"
"Um... No-o."
"Have you even read the book?"
"Yes, yes I have, Miss Taylor. I loved every word."
Miss Taylor gave him a warm smile. All the teachers loved Pietro, he had a certain unmatchable charm. Of course, he was terribly attention-seeking but they let this go, considering his rather fat file in the counsellor's office.
"What I'm saying, Miss Taylor, is that I couldn't even begin to describe this poison. It's so.. er.. so intricately constructed by the wonderful Hartley. The imagery.. it's.. simply delightful," said Pietro in his smoothest, nicest voice. He liked to flirt with Miss Jenny Taylor. She always flirted back and made him feel special.
"Oh, you do talk such bullshit Maximoff," she drawled in a mockery of a long-suffering voice. "So can anybody tell me what the significance of the belladonna is?"
Kitty was practically jumping out of her chair. Her arm was getting tired and she was now holding it up with her other hand, waving it in the hope to be seen.
Miss Taylor, of course, ignored her female students. What fun were they, after all? Muttering something about going to the photo-copier, she made her way to the football pitch for a quick cigarette.
Kitty slumped back into her chair, crossing her arms and pouting. Ha ha, Pietro thought immaturely. Ha bloody ha.
"Is Lance in?" she asked, turning around with such force that Pietro almost fell off his chair in shock. He was, of course, much too cool to actually do such a thing.
"What's it to you if he is?" Pietro asked, panic secretly beginning to turn his stomach.
"We need to talk," said Kitty stiffly. Pietro could see that she was trying to stop her lip from trembling, and for this he added another childish Ha ha on her behalf.
"Talk?" Pietro leant back in his chair, going into the age-old defence mechanism of Wanker-Mode. "I wasn't aware that you and Lance ever did any of that."
Kitty's eyes widened in horror. "You. He told you..?"
"Yeah," Pietro leaned in closer, adopting an 'indifferently concerned' expression. "Listen, Shi. Kitty. I wouldn't try talking to Lance if I were you. Take it from somebody who knows the guy, he's not worth it. Move on."
Inside, Pietro was feeling that he might keel over at any given point from anxiety. He had to stop Kitty from seeing Lance. He didn't care if it was selfish or manipulative, it wasn't like he was a Good Samaritan anyway. It wasn't fair that he should finally have something of his own and have it stolen right from under his nose by an X-Geek who, in his opinion, was remarkably plain. There was no way he was going to stand by and let another person he loved be taken away from him, the first time had torn him apart. Eventually, he would let Lance go, but for now he wanted him; his taste, his touch, his smell, his body and his heart.
"Whatever, PeeeeeeeAYtrrrrooh."
God, but he hated the way she said his name! It was all over-enunciated, every letter was strained and pronounced like she was trying to impress foreigners by using 'their language.' Ugh. He shuddered.
"No no, seriously, you don't wanna talk to him! Kitty, this is for your own good. C'm'on, I'm trying to help you out here. Lance is a jerk, okay, he only ever wanted to screw you."
Which primarily was true. It was not, however, the best thing to say to an already emotional Kitty Pryde. Her eyes filled and she bit down hard on her lower lip. Pietro almost felt bad for her, that is, until he remembered that she was his adversary. She was the temptress, the one who'd stolen Lance and god knows she'd do it again at the drop of a hat. She would take Lance from him and leave him all alone, leave him to his twisted little mind. Pietro couldn't have that- he was afraid to be alone because he feared himself.
"I deserve to hear it from him," sniffed Kitty. The bell rang, and she began to pack up her stuff. "We both have this period free, I'll-"
"NO!" Pietro feared that if he had not been holding a large pile of books, he would have latched on to her ankle in desperation. "Please don't talk to him."
Kitty wiped her eyes across her sleeve, staring at him questioningly. "Give me one good reason not to."
"Because," Pietro set his jaw. Desperation had won. "I don't want you to."
If Kitty had ever sworn in her whole life, then 'What the fuck?' would have perfectly complimented the expression on her face.
"You're, like, totally freaking me out, PeeeeAYtrroooh. What happened between me and Lance is none of your business. And." she trailed off, her eyes suddenly lighting up with a revelation. "I know what this is about. You want to keep Lance to yourself, don't you? You've looked after him for two months and now you can't bear to let him out of your sight. It's all about control, isn't it? All those times I called and you said he wasn't there.. You didn't want him to talk to me then and you don't now. Well, let me tell now, PeeeeAYtrrrroooh- Get. A. Life. Or at least get some, like, professional help."
And with that, Kitty flicked her hair and walked out of Miss Jenny Taylor's classroom.
*
Pietro felt a warm, heavy hand on his shoulder as he put his books away. He didn't need to turn around to see whose hand it was, he knew the feel and the smell of it. Lance.
"You holding up okay?" Lance asked, concern evident in his eyes and voice. He gave Pietro's shoulder a small, reassuring rub.
"You think it too," Pietro hissed, neither physically nor mentally strong enough to remove Lance's hand. "Everybody thinks I'm crazy."
Lance's eyes grew softer, his voice quieter and deeper. "I don't think you're crazy. Did something happen today?"
"Oh, yeah," Pietro leaned his forehead against the cool metal of his locker and laughed bitterly. "Kitty happened."
What had really upset Pietro was not Kitty's comment about his mental state, but the fact that she had figured him out so well. Now he was worried that he was obsessing over Lance, desperate to control his life. He'd always thought he was crazy, but he'd never thought that his love could be a kind of madness before. Was it a destructive love, one of those terrible powerful ''til death do us part' loves in which the tormented one eventually takes an axe to his beloved to literally sever the ties? Shit, everything was so insane. Love shouldn't have to be painful, yet now it seemed every kiss with Lance was a kiss of death and why? Because of him. Because he was crazy. He couldn't hold on and he couldn't let go, he couldn't be with him and he couldn't be without him.
"Never mind," Pietro said, forcing himself out of his doubt and sadness. Lance trusted him. Lance didn't think he was crazy.
That was enough, for now, to make him stay.