Soundtrack Of My Life-Song #8:
"It's times like these,
You learn to live again.
It's times like these,
You give and give again."
~Foo Fighters
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Twenty minutes later Jean was still in the classroom and, after getting sick of waiting for what Jean considered 'five' minutes, I had ended up bored, lost, and stuck halfway up a flight of stairs. Yes, that's right, up a flight of stairs. What can I say, I forgot where the elevator was (I told her I'd end up lost!), but unpacking seemed like a good way to spend my time. Just one problem: my room was upstairs, and I was downstairs. Therefore, to get from point A to point B, I'd either have to sprout wings (which probably would have been the smarter of the two options) or climb the massive, winding, oak staircase. But c'mon, look at my hair color*, and then tell me which option you thought I'd choose.
Anyways, getting up was harder than it seemed (first person who says 'duh', dies painfully). At first I thought I'd just go up on the crutches, which was a logical and functional idea except for one problem: it didn't work. I wasn't tall enough to get the crutches onto the next step while still keeping them under my arms. Which meant I needed a new idea. And that turned out to be throwing the crutches up to the top of the stairs, and dragging myself up by the banister (well, actually using it for balance and hopping up the stairs on one foot, but you get the idea). Strangely enough, it worked too…at least, it did 'till I got halfway up the stairs. See, I forgot to factor a few little things into the formation of this new plan. Like shiny, oak floors…and my natural grace and balance (not!). So when my good foot slipped, I ended up clinging onto the banister for dear life, trying not to slide all
the
way
back
down on my stomach. I considered shouting for help, but I had no desire to ruin more first impressions by looking like a crippled buffoon. So I just hung there, trying to get my good foot back under me and having little success on the slick, wooden floor. And while hanging there for all eternity didn't seem like a bad plan at the start, ten minutes later my savage hand cramp started to get to me. Things went downhill rapidly from that point on (no pun intended) because moments later, my sweaty palm slid off the banister. 'Great,' I thought bitterly, 'I survive jumping off and roof and totaling my car, just so I can die by falling down a flight of stairs." I felt gravity take hold and I began falling backwards…
"Oh-," my exclamation…okay, my cussing, was cut short when my downward progress was suddenly stopped. I'd only gotten about a single stair down, when someone latched onto my shoulder. Unceremoniously, whoever it was (I was expecting to hear Jean chewing my out any second) hauled me to my good foot, and wrapped my arm about their shoulder. Stable and no longer terrified of becoming a human pancake, I tossed the hair out of my eyes and chanced a glance at my savior. A pair of red eyes and toothy grin glanced back.
"You be wantin' a hand der, chere?" he, for the person was obviously a guy (damn! A fine one at that too!) asked me. I nodded, and we began what was something I could only compare to a seriously messed up three legged race, only going up and not out. He'd go up a step, I'd grab his shoulder and hop after…then again…and again…until finally, tired and sweating profusely, I made it to the second story. The guy looked on as I began gathering my crutches and composing myself again.
"Thanks for the help," I muttered, pulling one crutch towards me.
"Don't tink notin' of it," he replied. Then after several seconds of silence, "you da new girl?" he asked. He had a thick accent like my old neighbor lady who moved up from Louisiana and smelled like cats (although this kid smelled more like bourbon than felines…)
"You ever seen me around here before?" Yeah, me, smart ass comment. What else is new? Once again, just killing this first impression.
"No, Remy
can't say dat he has."
"Well then I guess I'm the new
girl," I know you're probably thinking that I need a serious attitude
adjustment at this point in time, I mean, this guy just saved my ass, but let
me describe the scene for you. I was
now standing there, still balancing precariously on my retrieved crutches,
trying to have a conversation with my life-saver. He, on the other hand, was standing there, cool as you please,
trying to have a conversation with my breasts!
"Uh-huh! Remy startin' to like dis school. All des foxy ladies runnin' round da place," he muttered, either unaware that I could still hear him, or simply not caring. Either way, I was done with this conversation…he was still trying to talk to my chest. I considered shouting "they won't talk back!" at the top of my lungs, but decided that leaving was a better option here.
"Asshole," I muttered under my breath, turning to go. Big mistake, because no longer occupied with the twins, this 'Remy' kid found something new to look at.
"Don't you go talkin' bout Remy's ass, not when you be totin' dat fine piece o' meat dere," he ogled.
"You did
NOT just say that-," I started to yell, contemplating weather a crutch to this
guy's groin would hurt more than one to the nose, when we were interrupted from
behind. Behind, as in, from through a
wall, because that's where this new girl suddenly appeared from: through a
wall. Your jaws not dropping yet? Well, maybe you didn't hear me right. THROUGH…A…WALL!
"God Remy, you are such a
perv," the new chick interjected, as if emerging from solid sheetrock was no
biggie. Then she turned to me, "don't
worry, you get used to his dumbass comments eventually," she explained. The moment she said 'ass' though, the Remy
character opened his mouth speak, but-
*SNAP!*
Ghost-girl snapped her fingers at him over her shoulder, pointing dangerously and making me wonder if she could see out of the back of her head as well as causing me to doubt the safety of a bank vault.
"Remy, one comment about my ass and I'll kill you while you sleep!" she exclaimed. I anticipated some more words being exchanged, but the Cajun kid simply bowed his head slightly, as if tipping an invisible hat, and strolled back down the hall, whistling with his hands in the pockets of his overcoat. Yes, that's right, whistling.
"I've been committed, that's it. The doctors lied to me and I'm really in the nuthouse…" I rambled under my breath. Wall girl seemed highly undisturbed by my reaction (probably 'cause, living in a nuthouse and all, she's used to this behavior) and just stuck out her hand.
"Nice ta' meet ya'. I'm Kitty," she said perkily.
"As in cat?" Just strike me dead now, and put me out of my social misery, will you? However, Kitty seemed unperturbed once again. She nodded vigorously.
"Yup. And
your name is…?"
"Oh, I'm Zoe," I said, finally
accepting her handshake. "I'm the new
kid."
"Yeah, I know. One thing you
learn around here is that news travels fast," she said as I began to walk down
the hall. She turned, walking backwards, and kept pace with my gimped gait.
"News. How can I be news?" I demanded. "I just left the med lab an hour ago. You and devil-eyes back there are the first people I've seen." Apparently Kit-Kat or whatever she called herself found this all funny, because a flush spread across her cheeks, and she looked as if she was going to choke on her giggles.
"Yeah well just because Artie doesn't talk doesn't mean he can't tell tall tales. Plus when you live in a school full of mind readers…" she trailed off figuring she's made her point. She had.
"I need a Master Smith lock for my brain," I declared loudly. "So what do I really need to know about going to school here?" I asked, hoping she'd provide more realistic insight than the teachers had.
"Jean gave you the tour and her schpeel?"
"Yup."
"Right, now first things first: forget everything she said," Kitty began, still walking backwards. In fact she was about to walk into this little decorative table along the wall. I open my mouth to say something, but she just passed right through the table and grinned sheepishly. "Now…what else…Okay, here we go," she stopped and pointed at two doors in turn.
"Small explosions from that room…and that one are perfectly normal." I nodded. "There are no twins, triplets, etc. here at the school," she continued, "so any multiples you see are clones. Don't call Bobby Ice-jerk, Ice-pick, or Popsicle unless you have a serious desire to know how a snowman sees the world. And, for all our sakes, do not get Paige started on the subject of the Dixie Chicks, okay?"
"Alright…" I was starting to get a little freaked, but Kitty was on a roll now.
"Don't get between Sam and his first cup of coffee. Don't give Jubilee coffee…or anything with caffeine in it for that matter…no sugar either." Ah, so this shopping 'Jubilee' is a person. "Don't bolt your door closed, because someone will always try to get in, and they either end up shredding it, burning it, ripping through it, or kinetically yanking it off, kay?" As Kitty came up for air, I took the chance to nod emphatically.
"Don't use the school's computers to hack into anything illegal-I speak from experience on that matter," she muttered darkly. "Peter never has, and never will understand American sports, so don't even bother trying to explain them. Oh, and never ever, EVER engage in a pick-up game of any kind. They always result in trips to the med lab."
"Already figured that one out," I mumbled, remembering the results of a certain football game.
"Don't get between Scott and his cars, Jean and her Scott, or Logan and the Heinekens he hides in the billiard room. Never tell Scott that Logan hides Heinekens in the billiard room. And don't even mention the word Heineken around Remy." 'Why does that not surprise me?' I wondered.
"Here's a big one: never bring anything flammable near Jubilee's hands, Sam's butt, or John's…well, or John, period." She paused once again for breath. "Alright, this is important: the shower-order is God around here. Never take someone else's shower time, which sucks for you. Being new and all, you'll probably be second-to-last on the list."
"Second-to-last?" I asked, my eyes practically spinning in opposite directions from information overload.
"Yeah, well Bobby doesn't need hot water at all, so he's last by default."
"Ah, of course," I agreed, nodding like I understood, but absolutely lost.
Kitty continued,
"There are no set times as to when someone can watch TV, but I got news for ya, if you shut off the VCR when Marie is recording Gilmore's Creek, or whatever the hell it is she watches, you'll find yourself hanging out of a third story window by your ankles the next day. I'm not kidding, it took us almost two hours to find Paige that one time…" Kitty trailed off and I waited…but she didn't start up again. "I think that's it," she muttered, glancing around as if she might find some forgotten information scattered on the floor.
"Thank God!" I sighed. "You know I don't know any of the people you mentioned, right?"
"Yeah, well classes are almost over for the day, so you'll meet 'em all soon." Then, in one fluid motion, she smacked herself upside the head. Hard. "I almost forgot the most important rule: don't piss off Audrey." I groaned.
"As in my new roommate, Audrey?" Kitty turned a vibrant shade of purple.
"Yes…well, what I meant was…-," she stammered, embarrassed.
"You know, you're the second person who's said something like that to me," I explained while Kitty continued to choke on her words. She hadn't seemed to notice that I didn't care how much she insulted the roommate I had yet to meet. "So, what's so bad about rooming with this Audrey chick? I mean, how bad can she be?" I asked, hobbling next to this cat-girl. It was getting difficult to maneuver as more and more people appeared in the narrow hallway. We stopped just outside what I assumed was Kitty's room.
"Well, it's just that Audrey can be a little-," Kitty began when a voice reverberated down the hall, making the very windows rattle in their frames. A voice coming from my new room.
"WHO THE HELL DROPPED THEIR SHIT ON MY BED?!?"
"-er, difficult."
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*Zoe's blonde, but so am I. Therefore I'm allowed to poke fun at blondes. But seriously, I love blondes. One day we will rule the world. Long Live Blondes!
A/N: Hiya guys! This chapter was amazingly fun to write, and it made me realize how much I love working on this story. I've been waiting to integrate the X-Kids into The Struggle, and this chapter really lived up to my expectations. So I want to take this time to thank all the reviewers and readers who offered their opinions, advice, ideas, and support, and kept this story running for almost six months. Thanks to:
Silvinisy, Daydream, Munsje, Saymir-Shadowfox, hnh, Tigereyes, Faith, isobel*lvr, Noelle, Taynna, Moon*Child, WildWolvie, Rhapsody In The Night, Wormmon ABC, Carrie, AngstWolf, Rikku oh Ki, Gothica Faerie, Soccergoalie20, Buckster, Tiger Lily, BLAZE, Zero, Lexani, Nightcrawler, Annon, The Pebble, JB, and SomeFan
Love ya bunches, guys! Keep Reading! :)
~Stretch