A/N: Hello everyone! I can't believe we're almost at 4000 views! Thank you for all your follows/favourites/reviews. I hope you enjoy the chapter :)
anonymouscifan: Ohmygoodness. Every time I read one of your reviews it makes me smile :D 3 Haha, I do agree that Peter has a few juvenile attributes, and am glad that you are enjoying this so much!
I obviously don't own X-Men. It's been so long since I wrote a disclaimer, but just to clarify. I don't XD
Chapter 12/Chapter 14
March 3rd, 1972. Maximoff Residence.
"HeymomsothisisAnneandwe'regoinguptomyroomsopleasekeepBrygitfrombotheringus, bye!"
Anne tried to give Ms. Maximoff a wave; but her trying-to-actually-be-friendly gesture was stopped by Wanda pulling her up the set of carpeted stairs and out of sight.
Ignoring Anne's raised eyebrows, Wanda led her friend into a room before shutting the door and collapsing against it. Wanda slid down until she was sitting on the floor, her back was to the door.
"Sorry about that," she muttered. "I just don't want my mom to ask you a bunch of questions."
Anne nodded, taking in her surroundings. Wanda's room seemed to have two completely different sides it. On the right, there was a princess-themed bed, covered with a sheer veil. On the floor, there was a bright purple shag carpet, and next to the single window (which, of course, had princess-y shutters) was an ornate dresser that doubled as a book case.
The left side was a completely different story. Various posters plastered the entire opposite wall, displaying a series of band concerts as well as various music competitions. A large mirror hung above the study desk -that of which was cluttered with an endless supply of dark-themed make-up items. The entire room was messy to the point of no return. (Completely the opposite of Nora's four-plex.)
"S- sorry about the mess," Wanda stuttered as she tried to shuffle away the many spare items of clothing spread across the floor. "I don't usually have people over.."
Anne shrugged and gingerly sat down on the dark duvet. She noticed the large instrument case in the corner.
"What do you play?" She asked, already knowing the answer.
Wanda seemed surprised by her interest. "Oh? That? It's nothing… I play electric bass at home. It's apparently "not an orchestra instrument"," she said, making little quotation signs with her fingers. "But I play upright bass in the school band; and, um, violin.. and saxophone…"
"Cool," Nora said. She knew full well that Wanda was leaving out the fact that she was currently taking flute lessons, and had been playing piano since she was five.
"You really think so?"
"Yeah," Nora flopped onto her back and inspected the ceiling. She could see faintly-painted-over star patterns up there; probably from some childhood dream to be an astronaut. "I wish I could do something like that."
Wanda left the room, and appeared a minute later with a plate of cookies and two cups of apple juice.
"I barely managed to get all of this," she laughed, brushing away numerous vials of nail polish before placing the snacks on her desk. "Peter's keeping Brygit busy -by the way, I am so sorry about last Saturday. I woke up with a migraine.. and, well, yeah…"
"One of your reality fuck-ups?" Nora asked.
Wanda nodded, "Yeah.. one of those, things.."
Nora tried to lighten the mood by suggesting that they study for the Biology test on Monday.
"Ugh!" Wanda groaned and flopped down on the floor at the foot of her bed. "I was trying to forget about that!"
"Really?" Nora joked, moving over until she was perched on the edge of the mattress. "But why would you ever want to do that?"
Wanda lay her head back and Nora let her fingers pull back a few strands of hair.
"Mind if I braid it?"
"Knock yourself out."
Cracking open her textbook, Wanda began to read aloud as Nora interwove the hairs at the crown of her head.
"Viruses; a structure that contains a strands of RNA or DNA surrounded by a protective protein coat. They cannot live outside of cells." She paused, "So people think they are non-living?"
Nora shrugged her shoulders, "That's one of the theories getting tossed around."
"Creepy; imagine that there are non-living- sorry: abiotic things in our body!"
"Yes," Nora joined together two small strands of hair. "Fascinating."
Wanda groaned and moved to hit her head with the textbook but Nora tugged her back into place. "These definitions are too complicated for me to remember! I can't be expected to memorize the exact scientific meaning!"
"Well, actually, you are." Nora grimaced at the lopsided braid and then pulled it out to start over. It had been a while since she'd done anything with her hair -let alone anyone else's!
Noticing her friend's deflated posture, Nora tried a different angle. "Just try to simplify the meaning into something you can understand. For example… viruses are just things with a protein barrier and bits of RNA and DNA inside of them. Also, they happen to be in cell-arrest."
Wanda didn't get it at first.
"Eh? Ehh? Get it? 'Cell-arrest' instead of house-arrest?"
"Oh my god."
.
.
"Hey! This is actually really good!" Impressed, Wanda flipped the braid over one shoulder.
"Thanks?" Nora said.
Wanda's eyes widened, "Oh no, I didn't mean it like that! I mean- you just don't seem like the hair-braiding type."
Nora shrugged, "Fair enough."
Wanda was silent for a moment, "Think you could do this for my recital on Sunday?"
"Recital? For what?"
"Oh it's just this stupid violin-music-competition thing. If I win I'll go onto the State Championships."
Joining her on the carpeted floor, Nora said, "Well that doesn't sound so stupid."
Wanda's laugh hadn't an ounce of humour in it.
"Oh believe me. It is stupid. And serious too. I have to be dressed up and everything."
Wanda carefully finished the coat of dark purple on her right index finger and took a deep breath.
"I'm actually really nervous, you know? I got this far last year, and I actually won!"
"That's awesome!" Nora tried to sound interested, but she already knew what Wanda was going to tell her.
"But there was -still is, actually- this stupid-expensive entry fee for the state competition. Mum had just gotten laid off at the time, and even with the hundred dollars I had won… Well, we couldn't scrape the money together in time…"
"Oh," was all Nora could think to say. Hearing the story in person made it seem all the more sad.
"Yeah," Wanda sat with her back pressed against the wall. "I just have to win this time. I need to prove that I can amount to something. I'm gonna show those snobby-rich big-wigs in Annapolis that you don't need money to be good."
Nora nodded, noting the nervous shake in her friend's hand
"Also," Wanda added. "There's this huge jackpot at the end of State. If I can just get in the top three… Then I'm guaranteed my trip to Europe." She said the last part so quietly, Nora barely heard it. But she did catch Wanda's eyes flicker to a poster on the wall declaring the "wonders of Poland."
Nora decided that it was time to get it over with, and she took her friend's hand in hers. "I promise you, Wanda. You will win this again. And you will go to the State Championships. And you. Will. Kick. Ass."
Slightly weirded-out by this new "wild side" of Anne's, Wanda didn't notice the brunette's eyes bulge and her teeth clench as every one of Wanda's memories were uploaded into Nora's brain.
Nora snapped her fingers, and then spent the next four minutes of her time (not real time) screaming out the pain.
.
.
.
March 6th, 1972.
It was a two-hour drive to the next town, where the county meet was being held. Two hours of Pink Floyd blaring out of the station wagon's speakers, and two hours of Nora getting squished in the back seat.
Wanda was on her right, nervously tapping out the beat to some concerto on her jigging right knee. Peter was on her left, randomly bursting out into guitar-solo-esque-song at certain points of Echoes, (Pink Floyd; Meddle - 1971) much to the chagrin of everyone else present.
It astounded Nora that one song (that wasn't a classical piece) could go one for twenty-three minutes.
The back seat was definitely not built for holding three (pretty much) grown teenagers. So for the majority of the trip Nora found herself pushed halfway onto either Wanda or Peter's lap.
Oh, how she envied Brygit for getting to sit in the front, even if she was strapped into a booster seat.
When they got to the performance hall, it was only then that Nora realized how underdressed she was. So she went back a couple hours and made sure to wear something that wasn't paint-splattered or ripped at the knees.
She found Wanda in the bathroom, and it was easy to tell that she was freaking the fuck out.
"Oh, god, oh god, oh god, oh god." Her recently-shined combat boots paced across the grey tiles of the bathroom floor. "Shit, shit, shit… bar thirty-two… what's bar thirty-two again?"
"Come on Wanda, it's gonna be alright." Nora sat them down on the floor, not caring if anyone walked in. "You're gonna be alright."
She began to intertwine her fingers in her friend's hair.
"Alright!? I can't be alright! I have to be perfect!" Wanda cried.
"Oh, fuck perfect!"
"No, no, no," Wanda stuttered. "You don't understand."
Nora did actually. She understood exactly how Wanda was feeling at this moment.
"Rosie's here," Wanda continued. "Apparently her little brother is some kind of musical prodigy, or something."
Oh. Nora hadn't been aware of that.
"I- I- just can't lose to him, you- you know? I'd never hear the end of it…"
Nora pulled the elastic she'd grabbed earlier out of her jacket pocket and twisted it around the end of the braid. This had been her record finishing time for any kind of french braid!
"Well," she said. "The all you need to do is place ahead of that one guy, right?"
"Well I kinda want to win the whole thing too…" Wanda muttered as she got up and brushed off her black cotton dress. It had had lace on the shoulders, and went down to her knees. Her combat boots were paired with black leggings.
Eyebrows raise, Nora said, "You kinda want to win this?"
"Oh you know what I mean…"
"I don't think I do." Nora smirked as she saw how riled up Wanda was getting.
"Alright!" Wanda threw her hands up. "I want to win this! I have to win this!"
"You are going to win this!"
"I'm gonna win this!"
"Yeah!" Nora said. They tried to high-five, but failed miserably, with Wanda's had hitting Nora's elbow.
"You two lesbians done in here?"
They jumped as one of the stall doors opened to reveal Rosie's cocky figure. She wore an unsurprisingly low-cut shirt paired with some high-waisted jeans. On her arm hung a purse that was probably worth more than the place where Nora was living in.
Compared to Nora's bellbottoms and faded blouse, Rosie looked like a movie star.
The blonde looked Anne up and down unappreciatively. "I did warn you," she said.
Wanda stepped in front of Anne protectively, causing Rosie's attention to be shifted to her instead.
Rosie smirked, then added, "Oh, you may want to head back there… something about a last minute schedule change?"
Nora pulled Wanda out of the bathroom before Rosie could do any more damage.
"Don't pay any attention to her," the brunette ordered.
"Oh, I wasn't," Wanda said. "I was too busy changing all the pressure valves in the bathroom sinks."
The two of them paused for a few more seconds before hearing the unmistakable sound of half-a-dozen faucets simultaneously exploding. (As well as the shrill, girly scream of a prissy teenager getting her so carefully constructed outfit utterly ruined.)
Wanda scurried away as sonar they got into the theatre. Violin in hand, she said that there was a separate seating area for the competitors.
Nora made her way over to where the rest of the Maximoffs were. She sat down in between Peter and Brygit, taking note of the six-year-old's princess dress. Moments after she took her seat, the lights dimmed.
Nora joined in on the clapping as a man of (obviously) some importance took the stage.
"Thank you." His voice echoed up and around the arched ceilings. "And welcome. Welcome to all of our talented participants; to their parents who drove them here from all across the county." -For some reason, people chuckled at this. "And welcome to our esteemed judge: Mr. Maxwell Scott."
A greasy-haired man wearing a much-too-small suit stood up from the judges table and waved.
The introducer went on to speak of how this was the tenth-annual music festival; what businesses sponsored it; and how only the top three (out of sixteen) contestants would be advancing.
"-and if you have not received an advance envelope up until one week from now," the man on the stage chuckled; again, for reasons unknown. "Well, I supposed we can all assume to see you again next year."
Aside from Wanda -who was staring intently at the stage, no doubt devising her plan of attack- there were only a few others who didn't look like they were going to hurl.
One boy -who looked no more than twelve- was rocking back and forth in his seat, pouring over his music in a last ditch memorization attempt. Another girl -most likely Amish by the look of her country/home-made clothes- was slowly turning a shade of red that most painters had yet to discover. She nervously rotated her clarinet in her hands, taking deep breaths in and out.
Nora frowned, this is terrible! I'm pretty sure at least half the kids present don't even want to be here!
The first competitor was called up to the stage. (Class twenty-seven; number zero-one.) And thus, it began.
Each of the pieces ranged from five to fifteen minutes long. Nora realized why it had started so early; at this rate, it would take all day to get through everyone!
After each performance, the judge would join the student on the stage ad congratulate him or her on getting this far. Then, he would proceed to ruthlessly dissect every single mistake they had made. Everyone watched as each child's dreams were crushed into varying numbers of pieces.
Even to Nora -who knew very little about music- it seemed a little harsh.
One hour into it all, and they had only got through three people.
"What number is Wanda," Anne whispered to Brygit.
The princess said nothing, only held up five fingers.
Either way, Nora had to pee, so she left.
"You bitch!" She was slammed up against the wall mere seconds after exiting the theatre.
Rosie was certainly a sight to behold. Her golden hair was now frizzy and matted, and had long since fallen out of its ponytail. Her makeup had been ruined by the water, and her clothes were soaked through to the bone. Apparently, Wanda had gotten a bit carried away.
"You ruined my outfit! You bitch, I know you did it!" Rosie screeched as Peter pulled her off of Anne. (He had left the auditorium a few minutes before her.)
"Rosie, calm down!" He struggled to keep her feet on the ground and her hands from clawing Anne's eyeballs out. "There's no way she could've done it!"
"Of course there is!" Rosie pointed an accusatory finger at Anne. "She did something with the water! She's a mutant!"
"Actually it would've been the pipes," Anne blurted out. "One, or two of the pressure valves, to be exact." Why had she said that?!
"She confesses!"
Peter put a strong arm around Rosie's arm and began to guide her away. Go, he mouthed to her. His eyes then not-so-discretely trailed down her body, widening as they went.
Nora rolled her eyes, boys. They all have the same one-track-mind.
She went to the bathroom, but when she tried to wash her hands, Nora found something very strange.
She wiggled her fingers; she felt them moving. But when she held her hand up to her face, there was nothing there!
From her elbow down, there was nothing but a faint, fuzzy outline of her forearm and hand's shape.
I need to get out of here. And that she did. Nora left the function in a hurry, not bothering to inform her worried-looking friend.
This was a frightening new development in her powers. One that she didn't want or need.
When she tried to touch any solid object, (for example, the car she was trying to jack) it went straight through!
What the fuck is this?
.
.
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Thoughts?