A/N: I'm Back! :D I Missed you guys! Thanks for all the reviews!
E: Yes let's! haha. :) Disney was great! I'm ready to go back.
Guest: Yaye! You liked it I'm so happy! Oh! In Disney World they had a monerail covered with Iron Man colors and posters. It was really cool, you would like it.
Sam: Thank you so so much for your comments! I really appreciate them! I'd love to move to Prince Edward Island, like you have no idea how much I want to move or just visit. Is it beautiful?! :D
OH! And I found an awesome song I absolutly love! It's called High and Dry originally by Radiohead, but I love the smash version. Some of the interpretations are pretty rediculous, but if you just read some of the lyrics and take it sort of out of context, it sort of relates to poor Bruce/Hulk like the lyrics:
"You'd kill yourself for recognition,
Kill yourself to never ever stop
You broke another mirror,
You're turning into something you are not."
Or maybe you heard the song from the Script called Science and Faith. It's got a nice beat, but it can be annoying. I just think it's so cute. :D
Anyways Enjoy the update everyone!
Chapter 29
"Hey Bruce!" Se runs to him with a smile on her face, parking beside her friend at the fountain.
He weakly returns her smile, eyes focused on his notes from the nuclear physics course;
"Hi Angela."
The blonde nudges him lightly, realizing he's preoccupied, "Do you remember when Mr. Lock had those doctors come in to give us information on new procedures?"
He nods, scribbling names of substances over his pad to find a proper equation. Her eyes read over his gibberish, trying her best to make sense of something she'll never understand;
"Well, Dr. Austin called me in for an internship this summer. He said it might lead to something more permanent."
Angela feels her heart drop when all Bruce does is turn his pencil over to erase the 'solution'. Banner's whispers are for himself when he moves the pencil frantically over the page;
"Ugh, stupid! You forgot...um,' he looks up at her blue eyes, feeling guilty for seemingly ignoring her, 'That's great Angela. Where's his office."
"Right off the main road. Did you get a call yet?" She crosses her knees, content with his current attention until he starts to scribble more gibberish up the side of his notebook.
"Call for what."
"An internship."
He shakes his head, glasses slipping down his nose, "No."
She narrow his focus, thoroughly confused for a number of reasons;
"I thought you had the highest average. Didn't you get a 100% on the latest exam?"
"99%."
She rolls her eyes at his correction;
"Same difference. Bruce, with the exception of you, the high for our class was an 84%."
He gives her a look, "What did you get?"
She shrugs, "The 84%. So why haven't you gotten a call?"
Bruce shrugs his shoulders, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose before tugging on the sleeve of his sweatshirt;
"I don't know."
"Don't you think that's a little strange?"
He shrugs, repeating himself, "I don't know."
Angela drops it, seeing his defensive attitude kicking into high gear. She crosses her knee, brushing a loose strand behind her ear, "So...tell me what's going on with nuclear physics. Did you get a call for that?"
He sighs, running his free hand through his thick locks, "No, but I keep getting scholarships to other schools, and college grants, or whatever."
"That's good."
"Yeah, but it's a little weird."
"Why?"
He shrugs, "Well, all these people are writing me to come and work for them and, I don't know who they are. I haven't even finished school yet."
"Because they know you're an intelligent young man."
Bruce drops his pencil, removing his glasses before he looks at her, "But all they see is numbers. Anyone can get a good grade, even if they don't know anything about the field. All the tests show is how well you know the textbook not necessarily what you know about, let's say being a doctor. The book won't give you bedside manner."
She nods, "Okay, I see your point. But what about when a student excels, gets the highest grade in the entire college, and has an excellent reputation? Don't you think they're going to pay a little more attention to someone like that?"
"They shouldn't. Grades don't make, him, better then anyone else."
Angela contorts her mouth when he tugs on his fingers, "You're just saying that because you know I'm talking about you. Don't you have any self-esteem? There's nothing wrong with being a little proud of your accomplishments."
"Yeah what accomplishments...They're just numbers-" His pencil point snaps the instant he starts to write again, making a face of pure disgust when it happens.
She's quick to reach over and take it from him, replacing one of her own within his grip. He barely nods before frantically writing over the bottom of a covered page. Bruce gives a final glance over his work before returning her pencil, "Thanks."
She lifts an eyebrow, "Okay. So what was your solution?"
"Just, fundamental forces that lead to a specific interaction. I'm not going to bore you with specifics."
Angela nods politely, changing the subject, "So, what did you do for vacation?"
He folds his notebook before tossing it into his backpack, glasses ready to fall off his lap before she catches them, "Um, work. You?...Thanks."
She smirks, handing him those corrective lenses. Her blue eyes shift up towards his pretty brown ones, "I went to visit my parents."
She drops her possible question on family, hesitant to bring up something that might shut him down. Bruce gives her a nod, slipping his glasses back onto his face. She sighs, wishing he kept them off a little longer.
Miss Lipscombe spots that lock over his forehead, eyes nervously shifting back down to her bag. He's adorable, sharp, and awkwardly charming;
"I was, wondering, if you wanted to go grab something to eat with me. Just down at the pizza place."
He shifts his focus back at the ground, standing up and tossing his backpack over his shoulder, "Thanks for the offer, but I can't. I have to study."
She sighs uncrossing her legs, "What if I order in. You can come to my place. My roommates away...and I'll help you study after."
Bruce gives her a strained smirk, free hand tugging the back of his neck, "I-."
Angela cuts him off, standing up as she takes up his wrist, "-have no excuse. Come on Bruce. And I'll let you go home at a reasonable hour."
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
She's quick to cover her mouth to block her snickering as she reads off review questions from his textbook. He seems to have a sarcastic answer for every question, rubbing his eye and forehead when she gets to the last one. Angela closes his book and leaves it on her table keeping an eye on her friend, "You're not getting enough sleep are you?"
Banner shakes his head, holding it up by the heel of his palm, "Probably not. I should get back,' he glances at her clock, 'Oh snap. I'm sorry Angela."
She rests a hand over his, pausing him in his frantic motion, "Bruce! Bruce, relax. I, I don't want you going back to your apartment at 1 in the morning."
He scoffs sleepily, getting his stuff together, "I'll be fine Angela."
She grabs his arm, loosening on her grip when he jumps. She keeps forgetting about his anxcious nature and preference not to be touched;
"Sorry. Bruce, not for nothing, but you don't live in the most respectable of locations. I'd feel a lot better if you just stayed here for the night."
He repeats himself, unzipping a few inches off the top of his sweatshirt for air. Her heart goes racing the instant she sees him in something less baggy, eyes dropping in pure nervousness, spotting his more form fitting button down. It's still baggy, but much more formable for his delicate nature. He's no jock for sure, but his build is just enough to be considered attractive.
Bruce obviously spotted her at a loss for words, misunderstanding her action;
"Are you alright?"
She nods, startled by his comment. She practically whispers, "Yeah, I'm fine...' she catches herself, 'So you're staying for the night?"
He takes a step back, free hand running through his thick curls, "No, but thanks for everything."
Angela smiles weakly, leaning against the wall, "Thank you. You paid for the food."
"So, I'll see you tomorrow?"
She nods, "At the fountain?"
"2:15?"
"Sure thing. Um...see you later Bruce."
He nods, hand wrapping over her knob, "Yep."
Angela takes a step towards him, "Bruce,' her head rests against the wall beside her, 'um...good luck with your test tomorrow."
"Thanks." Bruce smiles, an odd feeling pooling through his gutt when she makes eye contact with him. She's pretty, he'll give her that; with her long blonde hair and pretty blue eyes...
Maybe he was staring for a second too long, giving her too much food for thought and an oppertunity to plant a kiss on his tender lips. She keeps her hands to herself, remembering his hatred for physical contact, and she was pretty sure this was pushing it.
The instant they separate he bolts out the door and closes it behind him. She sighs heavily, pinning her back against the door before she holds onto her head. Guilt spills over her for letting him get away when she knows he should have stayed.
His back is pinned against the wall, outside of her door. His eyes are closed, image of her pretty face burning in the back of his mind. Bruce holds his head, unsure of how to handle her affections. He feels overwhelmed, emotions running strong.
He hates contact, so why is he craving it? Is he craving it?
He keeps a firm grip on his head, butterflies pooling in his gutt.
Why? Is he sick?
Bruce closes his eyes, having a strange desire to run back inside and kiss her.
But she might touch him again!...He squeezes his eyes subconsiously, ready to deal with it when he reopens her door.
He gives her a quick glance, realizing she's just as shocked as he is before he presses his mouth over hers with less restraint. He's shaking, completely afraid and thoroughly confused.
Angela feels her head press against the wall, proving he's the one pushing back. When her eyes crack open, she smirks. It's sweet, but beyond obvious that the boy has no experience. Angela wraps a gentle hand around his head, guiding him through the motions as she turns in between kisses.
He knew she was bound to grip his hair and he hates it. Still, there's something about her gentle lips and big heart that keep him right where he is.
His backpack falls off his shoulder as she kicks the door shut with her foot.
. . . . . . . . . . .
"Jen, come on we're going to be late."
The girl sighs, clicking her phone off for the fifth time that morning, "Coming Daddy."
There's a smile over the face of the proud father, eyes fixed on his pretty daughter;
"You okay sweetheart?"
She shrugs, twirling her graduation cap over her finger, "Yeah, great, why."
"Still trying to call Robert?"
Jennifer looks down, taking a step towards the door, "No why would I do that. Come on Dad let's go."
Her comment is far from convincing. Her father knew better, and just how much her cousin meant to her. He leaves it, noticing that look on her face;
"Baby, wait. I need a picture."
She groans, "Dad! Not now!"
He hovers a finger over the shutter, "Smile!"
The girl gives a sarcastic expression, "Dad! Are you going to do this all night?"
He smiles, "Why not? My girl's going to be a Criminal Lawyer! That's a big deal! You're your Daddy's daughter, but you got your mother's face."
She smirks half-heartedly, remembering her original dreams of being a dancer; "Mommy always said I looked like you."
He shakes his head, holding the door for them, "No, she was just trying to make me feel better."
Jennifer climbs into the passenger seat when her father starts the car, "I love you daddy."
Morris gives a heavy sigh, wrapping his arms around his daughter with the car in park;
"I love you Jennifer. And I don't care how big you get, you'll always be my little girl."
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
The blonde jumps from the opposite bed, lifting up a buzzing cellular before she yawns, "One new voicemail Bruce."
His eyes peel open, barely awake and still in his sweatshirt and jeans, "From who?"
She sits up straighter eyes narrowing suspiciously, "Jennifer?"
He jumps up, running a hand through his messy curls in a groggy haze. He's quick to open his message, much to Angela's dismay, "So is that why? Because there's someone else?"
Bruce narrows his focus in confusion, "Why what?"
"Why you didn't sleep with me last night?"
He rolls his eyes, disturbed by her comments as he refocuses on Jenn's message as he picks up his backpack;
"She's my cousin Angela!"
She sighs, regretting her tone, "Sorry, I didn't know."
He snaps, hearing Jenn's brief voicemail, "And I missed her graduation. Great. Probably hates me right now..."
Angela sighs, standing up beside him as she rests a hand over his arm, "Easy, just breathe. I'm pretty sure she doesn't hate you Bruce. Just take it easy."
He breathes heavy, trying to calm down quikly. His eyes look up towards her, "Do you hate me?"
She leans forward planting a quick peck on his mouth, "Not at all."
"Are you mad at me?"
"Why would I be mad at you?"
"I don't know, are you?" He drops his hand to the side in frustration.
"No! Bruce, I- I like you, a lot."
He's shocked, eyes roving down in pure insecurity, "Still?"
She shrugs, leaning her head forward in an attempt to look him in the eye, "Surprised?"
He scoffs, but she doesn't give him a chance to answer, "Go ahead hon. You've got class in an hour. I see you later."
