Chapter One Hundred and Thirty Five
...
Connor looked at Victor, taking in the intense expression on his face, and wondering what he was thinking. "Are you all right, darling?"
Victor blinked and looked at Connor properly. "Hmm?"
"Are you all right?"
"Oh. Yes. I was thinking about Mrs. Quinton's house and how we can never call it by her name when we've moved in or I'll never be able to think of it without thinking of her," Victor said with a shudder.
"You can't just call it home?" Connor asked curiously.
"Well, yes, obviously I can call it that, but then I have this as home as well. It'll get confusing."
"Home and your mother's home, neither of those work?"
"You're being very practical about this, Connor," Victor said with a pout.
"You want to name the house?"
"Yes. They do it overseas and, well, I just thought it would be a cutesy thing we could do together. Like, a... like a family," Victor finished in a rush, his cheeks bright red.
Connor's heart stopped at the word. For so long, Ry had been all he had ever needed to have a family. Andy, Yuki, and their kids were family, too, and a few others from the Army, but they weren't regular features in his everyday life. He had Ryuu and that was it.
"Connor? Is... is that okay? I mean, we don't have to, of course. I just - mff!" Victor cut off as Connor kissed him firmly, stealing his words and breath.
"It sounds perfect, darling."
Victor blushed as Connor kissed him again and again, clinging to Connor's broad shoulders for dear life. His phone started to ring loudly but Victor ignored it in favour of kissing Connor again.
Connor pulled away with a grin, loving how Victor looked so dazed because of him. "It's Trixie, darling. Do you want me to talk to her?" he asked, Victor nodding and not trusting his voice right then. "Hello, Trixie, this is Connor."
Victor watched as Connor talked to Trixie, colours swirling with brown worry, yellow excitement, and pink love. It really wasn't a good combination, Victor mused. Then, before his eyes, the colours washed away with a wave of grey. Relief?
Connor ended the call and kissed Victor firmly again, wrapping his arms around Victor and lifting him up. "She accepted the offer."
"Told you," Victor murmured against Connor's lips, holding his shoulders tightly and trusting Connor to keep him aloft.
Connor held Victor under his thighs, squeezing firmly and relishing in the gasp he made against his mouth.
"Oh! Sorry, keep doing... that," Edith said in the doorway, her face bright red. "Um. Actually, can I just... squeeze past? I need the throw pillow."
Victor groaned and slid down to his feet, keeping his eyes closed tightly and refusing to look back at his mother. "Connor? Can you get me out of here before I die of embarrassment?"
"I don't think I should move right now, darling," Connor admitted, his cheeks red and chest heaving with his breaths.
"You know what? Why don't I get the throw pillow later?"
"Mother!"
"No need to get snippy, dear."
Victor buried his head against Connor's shoulder and groaned loudly. "We're having sex every damn day when we move into our home, okay?"
Connor laughed and nuzzled Victor's cheek so he could hear his breath catch when his stubble rubbed against Victor's soft skin. "It's an ambitious goal, darling, but I'll try my hardest."
Victor muttered under his breath about his hardest, and Connor tried not to laugh again.
...
"Good morning, Josie. Do you mind if I talk with you for a minute?" Magenta asked, biting her lip.
"Of course, dear. Here, let me put this away," Josie said, grabbing handfuls of paperwork and moving them aside.
"It can wait until later if you're busy?" Magenta offered, worrying at her lip.
"No, no. It's just real estate things, they can wait. First, you need to stop biting your lip like that Magenta. You've got a potential contract for MAC makeup and you don't want to ruin it with chapped lips, do you?" Josie asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh. No. Of course not," Magenta said, using a name brand lip balm and hoping the makeup contract landed soon.
"That's better. Now, what did you want to talk to me about?"
Magenta wondered if this was a good idea, but she didn't really have anyone else to ask. Her mother would overreact and her father would probably take her mother's side, and Cyan didn't exactly have the best finances to start with, which is why he and his girlfriend were arguing more often than not. "I think Will used my bank card at a store on Wednesday. I don't know what to say to him to get it back. What do you think I should do?" she asked, the words practically blurted out.
Josie frowned. "Will hasn't left the house at all this week. Why do you think he used it?"
"I... well, Will was having a bad day and I let him use my card to buy himself lunch, but then I never got it back and forgot to ask about it. I got paid but then all my money's gone, and he must have left the house because it's a Super Joe's store, and they don't do online orders. I checked," Magenta added.
Josie blinked. "Super Joe's, you say?"
"Yeah, they have really expensive food, organic things, and it doesn't even make sense because Will doesn't even like organic food. I've seen him eat a whole share bag of Doritos for lunch before," she muttered.
"Oh, you have, have you?" Josie asked, pursing her lips. "Well, I believe it was a mistake."
"Okay. But what about my money? I worked hard for that," Magenta said, trying to sound firm.
She should confront Will and demand he return her money, right? It was her money, after all.
"Yes, I know you did, Magenta dear. Look, I'll pay you back myself. It was four hundred and thirty, right?"
Magenta frowned. "How did you know that?"
"You told me, dear."
Magenta frowned, thinking back over the conversation. Had she told Josie?
"Have you thought of getting a joint bank account? Now, I know you probably haven't thought about this, but it's something a lot of married couples do. When you and Will get married, your money will become Stronghold money, and you know what people say about Stronghold money. In fact, I can show you how to make this four hundred dollars into a thousand with the stock market. Wouldn't you like that?"
Magenta didn't know what to say, her thoughts going around in circles. When she and Will get married? How did you make four hundred into a thousand? What did people say about Stronghold money? Was Will going to propose to her? She wasn't even seventeen yet!
...
"I know Daisy is working to sell Greta's house, but there's also the matter of the storage facilities. As well as a significant number of priceless artworks and belongings within those storage facilities. I got the storage sites' access codes from people on Craigslist and had a look with Donny and Honey," Ethan added when Layla looked at him in confusion.
"All right. She was actually using them? I thought it was just a decoy so she could torture Victor?"
"The front sections were all set up the same way, but she must've been bored or trying to hide things from the IRS because the back sections were full."
"You're sure they're hers?" Warren asked, frowning.
"Positive. Adam taught me how to follow a financial trail."
"When? Super Jesus, how much spare time do you actually have to learn that on top of everything else?" Warren groaned.
"You have my timetable, you know how much time I have," Ethan said, raising an eyebrow.
"Not the point, Ethan."
"Ethan, do you have a list of the artworks and priceless artifacts?" Layla asked, patting Warren's hand and smiling at Ethan.
"Of course. They're listed in estimated cost from most expensive to cheapest, and I included pictures. I have also prepared recommended museums, charities, and other places that may benefit from the cultural significance. Not all of the items, of course. Some are too valuable and would probably be stolen within a matter of weeks. Not to mention, we could benefit from some culture ourselves," Ethan said, looking at the blank walls briefly.
"Are you saying we're not cultured?" Warren asked.
Ethan focused on cleaning his glasses and didn't respond.
"Thank you for preparing this, Ethan. We'll go through it now and give it back by the end of the week," Layla said, flipping through pages of text and pictures.
"The police are getting closer than I'd like. Can I have it back by tomorrow morning?" Ethan asked. "Honey can move them or allow the items to be found by the police. If it's the latter, you'll have to wait for the items to be processed before you can do anything with them. I suggest items on page five onwards for that process, no one wants the Frida Kahlo to be locked in Evidence for years."
Layla blinked and returned to the front of the small booklet. "Frida Kahlo is on page three?"
"Like I said: they're sorted from most expensive to least. Oh, that doesn't include sentimental items; be careful looking at the jewellery, she may have hidden your mother's belongings in there," Ethan advised.
"Thanks for this, Eth."
Ethan nodded and left Layla and Warren to look over the document in their ever decreasing deadline.
...
"For the financial folks out there: Morton Holdings bought out Walton and Dalton and Colton last night for an undisclosed sum. Mrs. Morton released a statement this morning... " Brian Anderson said, smiling as the TV showed Ellie on screen.
"For the employees of Walton and Dalton and Colton: your jobs are not under threat. I have a system at Morton Holdings that ensures employees who do their work are rewarded. This same system will be implemented at Walton and Dalton and Colton. If you work hard, you will be rewarded. If you don't work hard, prepare to start now. Or, you can quit, it's no skin off my nose. HR will be sending out a template for resignations this morning. Please email them through to me directly. All of this information will be included in the announcement email and template email. Just read your emails."
Brian Anderson smiled as the screen returned to his face. "Who wouldn't have loved to be a fly on the wall of the meeting between Mrs. Morton, and the Walton and Dalton and Colton leaders?"
Adam rolled his eyes and turned the TV off. "It was boring. Walton, Dalton, and Colton begged Ellie, she laughed in their faces, then offered them a hundred thousand dollars each. They demanded more, she refused, and they accepted. End of story."
"There was more to the story than that and you know it, Ace," Pat said, rolling his eyes.
"Ehh, your mum bought them, she's got the business, who cares about the finer details?"
"You mean you don't know what's happening to Chad, Tad, and Brad?"
Adam snorted so hard his nose hurt. "Nope. I couldn't care less about them; they're douchebags and they were mean to you."
Pat couldn't argue that and shrugged. "Did I tell you what happened when we were five?"
"Nope. What happened?"
"Jesus fecking Christ! Where did you come from?!" Pat exclaimed, eyes wide and heart pounding as Craig appeared out of nowhere.
"I've been here the whole time. I was trying Invisible Girl's power, but I didn't want to miss out on this. Adam probably would've said no and left it at that. I, on the other hand, need the goss!"
"Okay, drama creep. Go get Pat some water since you almost killed the man," Adam said.
"Sorry, Pat," Craig said, patting his shoulder gently as he left.
"You want the others to hear this story, or just me? Or just me and Craig? And Ry, if he gets his ass in here."
"I'm meditating," Ry called.
"Right in front of my door? I call bullshit."
"I don't mind if everyone hears it. Hell, I'm surprised Mam or Da haven't already told you all," Pat admitted.
"C'mon, in the kitchen, then," Ry said eagerly.
"They're all drama creeps," Adam muttered, shaking his head.
"Don't care!"
"Why are you all screaming? Warren's trying to handle the bees, can this wait five minutes?" Layla asked.
"But Muuuuum," Craig whined.
"Oh, no! I am no one's mother here!" Layla said.
Ry snickered under his breath. "Yes, Mum."
"Hey, mummy issues are left at the door along with the daddy issues. In fact, all parental or guardian issues are left at the door."
"Or in the dirt. Like Greta, get it?" Craig said, grinning broadly.
Layla rubbed her temples as Zach and Ethan walked into the kitchen.
"Who upset Mum? Dad's going to be angry!"
"Zach, not you, too?" Layla asked a little hysterically.
"Nah, I'm just screwing with you. But the dynamic kinda works, so I don't blame 'em," he said, Layla muttering under her breath and probably cursing them all.
"Hippie, what's going on?" Warren asked at the door behind her.
"They're acting like, like, children!"
Craig burst out laughing at her phrase. "Sorry, Mum!"
Warren decided he didn't want to know and put his beekeeper hat back on.
"Oh, no. You're staying with me," Layla said firmly, tugging Warren inside and pulling his hat off. "The bees are covered, right?"
"Yes, I covered them. I didn't even get a chance to get the trays out," he muttered. Seeing that everyone was arriving thanks to the call through their brands, Warren decided the bees could wait for now and pulled his beekeeping suit off, hanging it beside Layla's.
"So, why did you call us here?" Layla asked, looking around the room as more of their friends gathered.
"We need a bigger table, Lay. I'm practically sitting in Ethan's lap."
"You haven't scheduled that in," Craig snickered.
"I can't make the table bigger without losing more of the dining area. We'll find somewhere else soon."
Feeling as though there was another conversation happening, Pat frowned but decided not to push it. "What do you mean they called you? No one picked up their phone," he said.
Okay, maybe he was going to push it a bit.
"Never mind that. We're all here; what's going on?" Wendy asked.
"We're not all here. Where's Justina? Or Donny?"
"Vet clinic, there was a thing about a goat," Terrence said.
"Ice cream parlour. I'm heading there to pick him up after this," Wendy said, looking at her watch.
"He doesn't finish work for another hour; it doesn't take that long to get there, does it?" Zach asked curiously.
"Donny wants me to flirt with him to stop some citizen high schoolers from hitting on him. It's a game to them: see what they can steal from Hot Topic, flirt with my boyfriend, and go home to get ready for their Catholic school upbringing. I might fry them later, just so you're warned."
"I'll bail you out," Layla promised with a smile, squeezing her friend's hand.
"Thanks. Now, what's going on with Pat?" Wendy asked, looking at him.
He was positive he saw lightning flash in her eyes, but that was another thing he wasn't going to push. "I was going to tell you what Chad, Tad, and Brad did to me when we were five."
"Is it sexual? I will go beat them up."
"No, Craig, sit down. Chad decided he hated the sound of my voice so they had a vote on whether I would need their permission to talk. I thought they were joking but any time I tried to talk without their permission, Chad slapped me. It was on the arm, we were five; it didn't really hurt."
Noise exploded around him, questions and outrage and what he was sure were threats to their manhood, and just as suddenly, it was quiet. They were all frozen, a green glow to their eyes, anger and disbelief on their faces. Pat stared, looking around the table, his gaze landing on Layla and Warren.
"Pat, why?" Layla asked.
Pat shrugged. "Three to one: majority wins. They were just jealous that I have a superpower and they didn't."
"No, why did you stay friends with them?" Warren clarified.
"I didn't have much of a choice; I was five and we were homeschooled as kids." Pat looked at the others, still silent and glowing. "What's going on?"
"You don't seem scared or even surprised," Layla said instead of answering.
"They're not struggling so they either know this would happen or it's voluntary. If it's the former then it's likely that it's happened before and therefore temporary; if it's the latter, they wouldn't agree to something that would cause them pain. Besides, they're your friends; you wouldn't knowingly hurt them."
"Your friends hurt you," Warren said.
"You're not them and they weren't my real friends. Friends don't make friends do their homework, or pants them 'cause a girl was talking to him at a party, or - y'know what? None of that shit matters. I knew you were going to be my friends and that got me through."
"How did you know?" Layla asked.
"Honey," Warren guessed, Pat nodding.
"She contacted Mum about Morton Holdings when I was three, told her not to merge with Walton and Dalton and Colton. She gave me an encyclopaedia set with a note in the front: they won't hurt you for long, I promise. She helped me get away from the other three as often as possible and when it wasn't possible she gave me books and later audiobooks to escape. Two years ago she gave me a code word to keep an eye out for and I've spent every day since then trying to find you. What Honey didn't say is that you were across the damn cafeteria," he muttered, rolling his eyes. "I'm so telling her off next time I see her!"
"I'm right here, Pat," Honey said, coming into the room carrying a cardboard box. "And you two: limit the vines to people in the room next time, maybe? I almost crashed the van. You're lucky I had Grant and Jewel in the back, that's all I'm saying. Wendy, you have to go save Donny before he gets fired for smacking someone with either an ice cream scoop or a waffle cone."
The green faded from the others' eyes and Wendy blinked a few times, shaking her head.
"I hate it when you guys do that! Thanks for explaining, Pat; I promise to zap 'em if I run into them at the mall," Wendy called over her shoulder.
Honey sighed and sat in the place Wendy had vacated, setting the box on the table in front of her. "They'll be late coming back; Wendy is going to see Tad at The Gap and keep her promise. He won't be too badly hurt, but the static will be there for the rest of the week."
"Why would he be there? Tad never goes to the mall," Pat said in confusion.
"His father pulled a lot of strings to get him a job there. Don't worry, it won't last."
"Send us pictures, Wendy!" Craig called.
"Nah, I'll just get into their security feed and - oh, gross, he's picking his nose! And he wiped it on the register, I'm gonna puke," Adam said, looking disgusted.
"That's disgusting; he should at least do it under the counter. What?" Craig said when a few people backed away.
"Stop stirring them up, Cee," Jewel said, rolling her eyes even though she kissed him a second later.
"It's fun. Where's Grant?"
"Downstairs," Honey said before the others could respond.
"What? How is there a downstairs here? It's a one-storey house!" Pat said incredulously. "What else aren't you telling me, Honey?" he asked, eyes narrowed.
"Oh, about thirty million things. Don't worry, you'll find everything out eventually."
"We can show him?" Jewel asked in surprise, her arms around Craig's shoulders.
"Yes," Layla replied, Warren squeezing her hand gently.
They'd felt the sharp spike of pain ever since Pat had started talking about his former friends. Using the vines on their friends to make them be quiet was nothing more than a test and Pat had passed with flying colours.
"Dibs on showing him!" Zach called, guiding Pat out towards the library before the others could respond.
Honey, Layla, and Warren watched as the others rushed to the library. Adam waited until they stopped bottlenecking to get up to go to his room.
"Oh, Adam, can I get that antibacterial sanitiser for the Hive's counter, please? I'm pretty sure Craig was joking, but I honestly don't want to risk it," Layla said, wrinkling her nose.
Adam snorted. "Yeah, I'll replenish it and bring the gloves and the bucket out, too. Craig can clean it when he's done with Jewel and Grant."
"Thank you," Layla said, smiling at him.
"Sure thing. Warren, you got a box delivered here earlier. I didn't want to know what kinky shit you ordered, so it's still sitting in the Hive," Adam said, standing to get a glass of water.
"What kinky stuff?" Layla asked, frowning at her boyfriend.
Warren rolled his eyes. "It's a box of first aid stuff; I found out where Mrs. Woo bought the things in bulk for the Paper Lantern, and I got a bunch of things delivered here. I just bought what we have at work; Robin will have to tell me if they're good or not," he said, shrugging.
"Aww, I wanted the kinky stuff," Layla said with an exaggerated pout.
"You two can talk kinks later. In fact, I'll send you Darla's latest email; the Sweet Spot is running a promotion for twenty percent off," Honey added.
Adam groaned and closed his door loudly.
Honey grinned. "She did send an email, but it's fun to tease him, too. Now, we've got to talk about Milo. He's being resistant because he thinks Craig is being insincere in his offer of friendship."
"I never joke about friendship," Craig said seriously, walking into the kitchen.
"Why aren't you with Grant and Jewel?"
"More importantly, why aren't you wearing a shirt?"
"Um, I am with them. Well, five versions of myself are, at least. Maybe six. Don't ask. The shirt thing is... y'know what, I don't think you want to know. Here," Craig said, shifting his form so a shirt was on his body. "So, why doesn't Milo want to be my friend? I'm an awesome friend!"
"You are," Layla agreed, laughing when he kissed her cheek.
"Same goes for you, Lay. Now, Honey, talk to me. I want Milo on our team because bubbles are fucking awesome and I think our boy can make them outta more than soap, if his thing with Patricia's anything to go by. Well, creating bubbles out of an existing gas form is different than just creating them, but you know what I mean."
"I do, and you're right. Milo can make bubbles out of nothing and in everything, but he won't find that out until he gets a brand. Due to his emotions, Milo won't be able to switch to the Hero track. He's... uncomfortable," Honey said, not liking her own word choice but not sure how else to explain it properly.
"What? Uncomfortable, like, 24/7? Uncomfortable around people? Or uncomfortable in a different way?" Warren asked, frowning.
"Uncomfortable in his clothes. He wants to wear skirts but the school rules didn't allow for it. I know that the rules have changed now, but he's been forced to wear pants and trousers for so long that it's difficult to change overnight."
"I don't wait 'til night to change, I just get home and tear everything off," Craig said, grinning and drinking his water when they groaned at his bad joke. "I'm hilarious, you love me."
"How do we make Milo comfortable? We don't care what he wears so long as he's... well, useful just sounds cold and unfeeling. We want him to be at his best and he needs to be comfortable for that," Layla amended.
"Useful works, too," Warren said, shrugging.
Honey grinned and looked at Craig. "Remember those twenty kilts you wanted?"
Craig's eyes widened. "You bought me a kilt?"
"I bought you thirty. There was a sale, don't give me that look."
"Holy shit."
"Warren, I bought you one, too."
"I'm not wearing a kilt; if I power up, it'll be gone!"
"It's leather," Honey replied, grinning.
Craig snickered. "I'm telling the others; they'll want to see it themselves. Oh, wait. Your long hair and I'm assuming you're jacked after carrying a shitton of dishes every night for the last billion years, and you add a leather kilt to all of that? Super Jesus, now I want to see it."
"Stop objectifying me. Both of you," Warren muttered, glaring at Craig and Honey.
Layla grabbed Warren's forearm. "Uh, for completely unrelated reasons, can we see that kilt, Honey?"
Craig snorted, his water bubbling in his glass, and he waggled his eyebrows at their pink cheeks. "Kinky."
"Shut up and go back to... whatever you were doing. Take your kilts," Warren said.
"Take yours first. Hey, Jewel, you're gonna wanna see this! I'm taking a video for Wendy."
"Would you stop?" Warren groaned, his cheeks turning red, even as Honey opened the box and handed him the leather kilt on top.
"All right, Mr. January," Craig teased, his phone already in his hand. "Come on, just one photo?"
"You're going to send it to everyone," Warren muttered, arms crossed over his chest.
"Why does Mr. January sound familiar?" Layla asked, frowning as she tried to recall the memory.
"Zach joked about Warren being Mr. January on the firefighter calendar, like, last year."
"Oh, I forgot about that!" she said, bursting into peals of laughter.
"Shut up," Warren groaned. "You all suck."
"You love us," Layla said, kissing his cheek. "Come on, let's go downstairs. Craig, stop teasing Warren before he sets you on fire. Look how embarrassed he is."
"I can just shift to your form and avoid the flames. Ooh, I can wear the leather kilt as you! Did you get a leather one for me, Honey?"
"Oh, gods. Hippie, I'm going outside and I'm pretending none of this is happening."
"I'll bring the kilt," Layla called, kissing Honey and Craig's cheeks before following Warren outside, the kilt in her arms.
"Don't have sex near the weapon trees! If I hear screaming, I'm leaving you in there!" Craig called after them.
"Good!"
Honey waited until Layla and Warren were both out of sight before handing the box to Craig. "The leather one's on top. Don't let Jewel or Grant take a photo, no matter what either of them promises you."
"Aww, but - "
"I can give or take the kilts, Craig," Honey said in warning.
"Fine, no photos."
"Or videos."
"Damn. Promise."
"Good. Oh, and talk with Victor soon, would you? Wait until... Monday afternoon and he'll be more agreeable."
"Why? Ohhh! Yuki's winning the bet, is she? Damn, she's good."
"She is," Honey agreed with a laugh.
...
"Why are you making me go out for coffee, Geir? I'm too tired to have coffee in a public place with people," Malik groaned.
"That's why we're having coffee and not doing something else. I could've woken you for sunrise yoga," Geir pointed out.
"You wouldn't dare!" he hissed, glaring at his cousin, who just grinned broadly.
"I would dare, and you'd do it out of social obligation, so just say thank you, Geir," he said.
Malik sighed. "Thank you, Geir."
"Now say: Geir, you are the best in the world and I love you more than cat videos."
"Don't push it. Can we just get the coffee now? You're paying; Mrs. Stronghold still hasn't paid the bill for Magenta's tutoring."
Geir sighed. "Fine, spoilsport. You really need to sue that cow; she shouldn't get free tutoring."
"Yeah, but that means I have to see her again," Malik said, shuddering. He opened the door to the coffee shop, stepping back as someone came towards the door with a tray full of coffee cups. "Oh, hey, Terrence. How are you?"
"Hey, Malik. Hi, Geir. I'm good, how are you?"
"I'd be better if I had coffee," Malik asked.
"Why do you have that many coffee cups? Did you just rob the coffee shop?" Geir asked, narrowing his eyes and trying to look behind Terrence.
He laughed and shook his head. "Nah, man. It's my turn to do a coffee run for the Hive. No one's allowed to operate the coffee machine without Warren's supervision. I mean, I'm pretty sure he's joking, but no one wants to risk it," Terrence said with another laugh.
"I remember him; he looked like he wanted to murder everyone at that barbecue. Except his girlfriend," Malik mused.
Terrence snorted. "Nah, dude. Warren's a total softie. Just... don't tell him I said that?"
"I wouldn't," Malik said, shaking his head.
"I would," Geir said, grinning.
"Shut up, Geir," Malik said, rolling his eyes. Realising that he didn't want Terrence to leave quite so soon - and not thinking of why he wanted that - Malik tried to think of a way to continue the conversation. "Oh, hey. You should come over sometime and have a look at the Blickensderfer Electric. The typewriter needs to be loved and appreciated by someone who'll love and appreciate it," he said, grinning at Terrence.
"Really? Holy shit, yes!" Terrence said eagerly, smiling broadly. "I mean, I'd hug you, but lots of hot coffee. Which I should probably get to the Hive before there is a murder. We've got some really obsessive customers," Terrence said, a mix of awe and horror in his tone.
"Sure. How about I text you and we get together sometime? I don't have much tutoring in the next few weeks; assignments don't start until the fifth week," Malik said, grinning.
"Sure, my number is... " Terrence rattled off his number, Malik entering it on his phone. "Seeya, guys! Enjoy your coffee!" he called over his shoulder, heading to Wendy's car.
Malik waited until Terrence was in the car to wave goodbye. He turned to finally enter the coffee shop and frowned at Geir. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"
"You like him and you're using my typewriter to get a date," Geir teased.
Malik's cheeks turned pink. "Shut up, Geir."
"No! You totally like him! I'm telling Ma and Aunt Naida!"
"Fine, then I'll tell them how you didn't shut up about Justina for two straight weeks. I'm sure Ma and Aunt Mokosh would be very interested to hear that!"
Geir's eyes widened. "You wouldn't!"
"I would," Malik said, smirking in triumph when Geir relented.
Feeling confident that his gossiping mother and aunt wouldn't hear about Terrence until he wanted to tell them, Malik turned to walk into the coffee shop, walking straight into the door. "Kurac!" (Dick. Croation)
Geir laughed so hard he almost choked on his tonsils.
...
"Are you wearing a skirt?" Will asked, his voice loud over the noise of the students surrounding them, several people looking over at Will and Craig.
"I was having a conversation, but y'know, why does that matter when the great Will Stronghold is talking to me?" Craig exclaimed, waving his hand with a flourish. "And to answer your question, it's a kilt. But there's nothing wrong with anyone wearing a skirt. What's that got to do with my ability to learn, right?"
"But... I can see your legs."
"You see them when I wear shorts, too; what's your point?"
"You're a boy!"
"I think this is as much of the great Will Stronghold as I can take, dude. You coming to homegroup?" Adam asked Craig, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
"Yeah, I'm coming. Oh, did you do the chemistry equations on the back of Mr. Medulla's homework? I didn't get the one about the properties of mixing ammonia with other household chemicals."
Will stared as Craig and Adam headed down the hall. He couldn't believe that no one else was seeing this; where were the teachers? Craig would lose points for this, surely!
Also, there were questions on the back of the homework? Shit.
Grabbing his things and rushing to homegroup, Will scribbled answers on the homework that looked vaguely correct. When he was done, Will looked at the group across the room, talking quietly as Mr. Medulla took attendance.
"Will Stronghold?"
"Yes, Mr. Medulla? Oh, right. Present."
Waiting until attendance had been taken, Will raised his hand.
"You have a question, Mr. Stronghold? I am not providing the answers to the homework," Medulla said sternly.
"Are you going to take points off Craig? He's wearing a skirt!"
"It's a kilt!" Craig called.
Medulla looked from Will to Craig and back to Will. "It is a kilt, though I don't see why the distinction between forms of fabric should matter. I am not taking points off Craig. I highly recommend you read the school paper that was released last week. Not only is there an article about student participation rates in Save the Citizen, there were applications for the school's council committee, as well as an article about the points system.
"In it, you will find that the points system does not take away points. If you do something good, you are rewarded. If you don't do something good, you are not rewarded. I believe that is a simple enough explanation for you to fully comprehend. If I am incorrect, please read the paper for yourself to gain further insight," Mr. Medulla added.
"But he's wearing a skirt! It will distract my ability to learn!" Will said, triumphant and matter of fact.
"It's a kilt and eww," Craig said, wrinkling his nose.
"Your inability to learn is not Mr. Forge's problem, Mr. Stronghold, it is yours. I suggest you sit in a place that is as far away from Mr. Forge as possible if this is the way you intend to behave today."
Will's cheeks burned. "I'm not gay!"
"I never said you were, Mr. Stronghold. Mr. Forge? Five points for knowing the difference between a kilt and skirt. Are there any other questions?" Medulla asked, looking at the rest of the juniors.
Blissful silence met him in response - Will was red and glowering at his pencil case - and Maxwell sat down gratefully, returning to his sudoku puzzle hidden under the attendance sheet.
...
End of the hundred and thirty-fifth chapter.
