December 14th
"You're offerin' second-in-command? What, should I bow for your hand-outs?"
There was the angry, arrogant Johnny that was so familiar.
The Pink Ladies and three of the other four T-Birds were standing a few feet over; Stephanie and Rhonda each rolled their eyes, while Sharon watched, while Paulette kept her gaze trained on Johnny. Delores had gotten a hold of the handlebars of Davey's wheelchair and was running him back and forth over a space of fifteen feet or so, popping wheelies, tilting the wheelchair as far back as Davey dared without it tilting over completely; the casts on his leg and wrist were now filled with messages, a fair few of them Christmas-themed. No girl's phone numbers, though, he'd promised Rio.
Michael paid him a glance and continued putting his English Lit book and binder away, gathering what he would need for his Economics class, his T-Bird jacket hanging up in the locker; closing the door and locking it, he answered, "If you don't want it, then don't take it. But they'll listen to you first. Even Davey. They have an easier time with you, because you think more of the way they do. Even Frenchy agrees that I'm too rational."
Hence, the motorcycle.
"Why ain't you wearing the jacket?" Johnny demanded, a hard gleam in his eyes.
Michael considered for a moment, then offered, almost cheekily, "Will I have a mutiny on my hands if I don't?"
"This ain't some damn game, Shakespeare! How many times you hear Zuko yammer on 'bout the legacy?!"
Michael exhaled, with a bite of impatience. "The jacket isn't the most important thing in the world to me, John. And especially considering that I didn't really do anything to earn it – "
"No shit." Goose cut in.
Michael looked at him, giving a light shrug of agreement, continuing, "It's not what makes me. I'll have it on when I feel it's necessary. And as for keeping the T-Bird legacy intact, if I were you, Johnny, I really wouldn't talk."
Before Johnny could start yelling in defense of what he worshiped, his mouth curling into a vicious scowl, Rhonda spoke up. "But you are a T-Bird, Carrington. More importantly, the head T-Bird. And just cos they might listen to Johnny first don't mean they won't listen to you at all. What happened at lunch two days ago proves it. Zuko wouldn't've handed it off to you if he didn't think you got what it takes."
"Hey, whose side is you on?" Goose sniped, and Rhonda flung him a dirty look, snapping back angrily through gritted teeth, "The side where no one has their head up their ass! Davey could've been killed, and all you can say is 'fuck Carrington for ruining everything'? Just stop givin' him grief, Bradley Samuel! So he won't do things the way Johnny has, so what?! So what if he doesn't conform to your ideals?! Keep in mind he saved you both and Louis the other day from having your butts tossed for gettin' into another fight. Bein' a Bird isn't all about the jacket, and that idiot was just waitin' on Johnny to take the first swing."
"Show me how to fight. Your moves." Louis demanded from out of the blue, mostly to redirect the conversation, while Goose and Rhonda stared each other down. Johnny stole a sideways look at Stephanie (so did Michael), but she wasn't paying him any attention, her perplexed, irritated, and mildly amused gaze now on DiMucci.
Michael looked Louis up and down for a moment. "That's likely not the best idea." he answered. "I'd end up doing more damage to you than you could probably ever do to me, I think. You each had and have a choice for knowing how. I never did."
Goose asked coolly, flippantly, "Why, your parents assholes?"
"That's putting it quite mildly, McKenzie."
"Meaning?" Goose wheedled, an obnoxious glint in his eye.
Michael gazed at him for a moment, his jaw slightly clenched, while everyone else who could hear the conversation stared, listening close. "It means that your childhood was comparatively easy. You never had to worry about anything."
The warning bell rang then, ending the conversation for the moment.
You have a lot of secrets, Carrington, Stephanie thought.
Later during lunch, sitting with Paulette out on the bleachers, Johnny was staring off ahead, thoughts turning over in his mind. Finally he looked over towards Paulette, who was walking the line between watching him and watching the seagulls.
"Why d'ya guess me and Zinone didn't work?" The question wouldn't leave him alone.
Paulette forced a mild shrug – she really didn't want to talk about Stephanie, and some part of her wanted him to just forget her all together, unlikely though that was, Stephanie had been there first, But that's all over, she wants nothin' to do with him, I'm here now – chewing at her ham and cheese sandwich in contemplation; after a few minutes, she answered with some strain, "I think it's cos you and Steph are so alike. Both stubborn as hell and bent on having it your way."
She wanted to giggle then, but knew Johnny didn't find the situation all that amusing. "How long d'ya think before Carrington really makes a move?"
Johnny snorted. "Flap jaws ain't got a backbone for it. He ain't her type anyway."
By his tone, Paulette let the matter drop – Please get over her – turning the topic to the dress she was planning on wearing for the winter dance; Andrianna was allowing Johnny to attend, provided she be there to keep an eye on him. Take it or leave it, she'd barked.
Paulette herself knew she was going to catch some hell from her mother for sneaking out, but that felt easier to live with than leaving Johnny alone.
December 20th
Guillermo Jimenez had been transported to the Alhambra City Jail, and his trial had been set for Friday, January 13th at 2 p.m. He had yet to learn of what had become of all the money, and of his wife and family.
Ivaleigh and Lailea, meanwhile, had moved into the Olsen house over the weekend (Lailea took over Sandy's old bedroom after winning the dart-throwing contest), and it took all of one day for them to get themselves situated; over holiday break, before their departure for Hattiesburg, was when they planned on some shopping with the ten grand a piece that Caitríona managed to get to them. Items within their lists included (but weren't limited to) Christmas gifts for one another, with cards for everyone else, a small plethora of new clothes and shoes, some makeup, a shoulder tattoo for Lailea, of an artfully colored hummingbird, and a new camera, flash, tripod, and black and white film for Ivaleigh.
"You're really gonna go through with gettin' inked?" Ivaleigh asked, remembering Lailea's dislike of needles.
Lailea nodded, looking a little uneasy, but determined. "Bastian said he'd go with me, an' that I should go small t' get a feel for it." She blushed, murmuring, "... goin' on 'bout how ya never forget your first time ... "
Ivaleigh snorted, wolf-whistling teasingly, before asking thoughtfully, "Maybe I'll come too? Get somethin' t' cover the cigar burn mark? See what the fuss is 'bout?"
Lailea shook her head a little. "I'd say yes, but I'm only allowed one guest, an' I want Bastian t' be there more. He knows all 'bout this stuff."
Ivaleigh smiled, pressing a hand to her heart dramatically, pretending to swoon in pain. "I'm so wounded! I've been betrayed!"
Lailea threw a pillow at her.
Ted had agreed to put a small shed together in the backyard for Ivaleigh to use as a dark room; Ivaleigh had yet to stop thanking him for it.
Lailea also wanted to purchase a used car or truck, while Ivaleigh was leaning towards a motorcycle.
And there were ground rules that required following:
Rule #1: Clean up after yourself.
Rule #2: No Lying. No drinking, no drugs, no smoking.
Rule #3: No boyfriends behind closed doors.
Rule #4: Curfew is 12 a.m. If you know you're going to be late, and are neither dead nor unconscious, CALL.
Rule #5: Dress accordingly.
"Dress accordingly t' what?" Ivaleigh and Lailea asked Michael in unison.
"Well ... Christmas dinner, for example. Wear something pretty and festive. We also have a unstoppable habit of weekly lunches or dinners, either on Saturday or Sunday. Those are always casual."
"Hm. Somethin' steady." Lailea murmured with a cautious smile.
The adoption was proving to be far trickier than anticipated, due to the racial difference (the social workers at Three Hearts in Altadena were dragging their feet), and she was wondering now if there wasn't some alternative.
"If they won't help us, can we help ourselves?" she'd asked Caitríona at one point.
"Probably. Maybe. Carefully." Caitríona had answered after a thought-filled moment.
Ivaleigh had agreed to introduce Michael to Pickard's Gang as soon as was possible, which would very likely be in the first week of January, for the way things were going. Meanwhile, the mid-term finals were over, and every Rydell High School student was too energized and rowdy on this last half-day before Winter Break to pay much attention to anything.
Michael, for his part, was wondering how on earth he was going to get through five and a half days of not seeing Stephanie (he would stalk her all over Rydell if that was what it took to catch one glimpse of her come December 27th).
Just breathe ... one breath at a time ... she has my breath, she could crush the air right out of me ...
What if she meets someone else in the five and a half days?
His chest squeezed painfully, with small gasps shallow.
I need to stay on her mind.
The necklace he spotted in the window of Jade's Jewelry along Clintock Avenue (on the 19th) drew up and threw a plan into action.
I must be insane. She's worth it.
Michael ducked out of the English Lit class on this last half-day, claiming to need to use the men's room; thankfully the hallways were empty, even as noise, and plenty of it, was spilling out from behind every classroom door. He moved fast, his hands shaking a little as he taped the small gift box and the card to Stephanie's locker.
For A Sunflower –
Merry Christmas.
The first thing that Stephanie noticed was that the note was written in that same deep blue calligraphy as the previous one –
To the wildly beautiful, and the beautifully wild ...
And inside the box was a necklace: From a chain hung an all-gold sunflower, painstakingly detailed, with an opening down the middle; pulling gently at either side of the opening revealed a silver piece, gleaming and shaped like a blown-up balloon. Engraved onto this were the words 'You Are A Badass'.
"Wow." Sharon breathed, impressed (and envious, Louis had never given her a gift so nice). "Someone around here definitely has a crush on you."
"Who's it from?" Paulette asked from one side.
"Doesn't say." Stephanie answered quietly, staring at the necklace, her thoughts quickly running a slow race.
I know that handwriting he shouldn't have done this why did he do this?
Michael was just across the hall, talking quietly with Ivaleigh and Lailea, and she marched over to him, the necklace clenched in her fist, the card in the other, the other three Ladies just behind her, ever curious. "What's your game here, Carrington?" she nearly snarled, as the Storm twins took a few steps back.
Michael blinked, looking at her, taking a moment to drink her in – the sight of her when she's angry – before asking, honestly a little confused (and nervous), "What do you mean?"
"This!" Stephanie bit out, letting the necklace swing from her hand.
"It's a very lovely necklace?" Michael offered questioningly after a moment, his eyebrows arched. Please don't – please like me, no, it – please keep it –
I love you.
For one terrifying heartbeat, he thought he said the words out loud. God knew how they were clamoring to be set loose.
One breath at a time.
"She thinks you got it for her." Sharon clarified, and the reality returned in an even more terrifying (heartbreaking) rush.
I want to be enough for you, I'm scared senseless that this won't work.
"What's goin' on?" Johnny demanded, as he, Davey, Goose, and Louis appeared at Rhonda's elbow. "What's that?"
"A necklace, from the looks of it." Ivaleigh answered, and Michael had never been more grateful to her for the diversion. "I'm gonna guess, from what I heard so far, blondie here's got a secret admirer."
"So put it on, Steph, it's very pretty. Someone around here really gets you." Paulette encouraged with a bright smile.
An explosion of wild noise dragged all their attentions away, as members of the football team, in celebration of it being the last day before winter break, began hurtling footballs back and forth to each other with all their might, whooping and hollering as they did so. The basketball players, meanwhile, had brought their own game to the table, and were now running up and down the hallway, firing paint guns at everyone they saw.
The teachers watching didn't even bother in trying to tell them off.
By the time Stephanie looked back to enter round two with Michael, he, Ivaleigh, and Lailea were nowhere in sight.
He sat away from her during Economics, chatting with Elena, and she couldn't quit glancing towards him, after seeing a small but unequivocally pleased smile momentarily curve along his mouth when he noticed that she was wearing the necklace. After class, she didn't see him again for the rest of the day.
What the hell is your game here, Carrington?!
The dream she had that night left her whirling.
He sat away from her during class, and they were the only two in the room, in the world, and she couldn't quit watching him, after seeing the unequivocally pleased smirk that curved along his mouth when he noticed that she was wearing the necklace.
What if there is no game, Stephanie? What if –
What if ... what?
Their eyes met again, and she could feel something in her gaze pleading with him. Tell me the truth.
He gazed back, a deep, burning glint in his eyes.
And some part of her finally recognized what it meant. The enormity of it. She lowered her gaze, felt herself shying away.
In an empty hallway, he tugged her off to one side, one strong hand curving along her cheek.
Stephanie?
I.
She couldn't look in his eyes now. Deep blue eyes.
What if he kisses me?
I can't. The necklace was back in her hand. I can't take this. You should have it back.
His voice in her ear. The necklace? Or my heart?
Stephanie's eyes snapped open wide; the time on her wall clock read 3 a.m.
Michael.