I have three stories going so bear with me. On top of that, I'm computer illit. so this is all a challenge for me. Have mercy! Or whatever....
-I don't own jack-squat-
He found himself staring up into vast, ceasless blue... Sheilding his eyes, he forced himself into a sitting position with a low grunt.
Suddenly a face came into his veiw causing him to lurch back wards with a growl and jump to his feet, watching his intruder stand, swipe a hair from her eyes and say, "Who the hell are you?"
He found himslef fighting a smile and glaring at her in disgust, "I should be demanding the same of you...," he started past her, brushing her shoulder some what intimidatingly. She only turned her head slightly, and called, "Why don't you 'demand' the same of me?"
He rolled his eyes, she noted how his muscles contracted as he tensed and turned abruptly, glaring her down, he sneered, "Because I don't really give a rats ass."
She only smiled ruefully, shrugged and turned back the way she'd been going, walking back to a large building.
Her smile intrigued him and so he followed but before getting a chance to enter the building a man grabbed his lower arm and stopped him, saying, "Young man..."
"Don't touch me low class bakka!"
The growl hit the man hard and he jumped in immediate surprise, loosening his grasp, which was soon lost as he jerked his arm to himself possesivly.
"I'm going to have to ask you to change your clothes."
He looked down at himself, then at others strolling around the campus and realised none of them were clad in shredded spandex and small shards of armor. He frowned at the man.
"If you'd like... I could find you something..."
He brought his face closer to the man, "Show me."
. . .
He looked at his reflection closely, a five foot, six inch, muscular green eyed blonde, clad in a leather jacket and baggy jeans stared back at him.
He ran a hand thru his tangled hair and watched the man behind him with boredom.
"What's your name kid?"
He turned, "What business of yours is my name?"
The man gave him a mixed look, "I'm Principal Mower, you are...?"
"I am..." He frowned to himself, turning back to the mirror, watching himself frown.
"I..." He glanced up at the principals reflection, "I am.... I can not recall..."
"You don't remember your name?"
He turned once again, to stare at the sceptical man.
"I think I can help ya', come with me."
He watched him pass him, then followed down the hall, keeping a bit of distance.
His seat spun and he faced him, "Welcome Shane!"
"Shane?" He asked the balding principal, raising one perfectly shaped eyebrow.
"Yes, Shane. I'm sure it sounds different, but I assure you, that is how it translates."
"Hm."
"We wern't expecting you, so take this slip and follow this map, you may take part in any classes you choose today."
"Hm."
He stood, turned toward the door but froze, hand on knob, as Principal Mower said, "Oh, and Shane?"
He didn't look back at the older man, "Hm?"
"Stop in here after school."
He gave a short nod, the door slammed behind him, leaving a pile of glass in his wake.
The principal stared down at the mess of glass and letters that used to spell 'principal Mower', in shock.
"Hm," was his only response as he tried to walk past the girl who was blocking him.
Her eyes were glazed over, hands clasped over her chest as she gazed up at him so intently he felt his skin begining to burn under the fervorus girl's look.
"Would you like me to show you around school?" She repeated, a little more forcefully this time.
After waiting, staring and cutting off the blood circulation to his hand, she jerked him hard and they flew down the hall. "Of cource you do!"
Shaking her off his arm, he stopped and stared at the room she'd brought him to in awe,
many people were laying around forcing laughable amounts of weight from them selves and pulling it back down. He peered at them in shock, only two hundred and the guys sweating? with one last jerk he freed himself from the girl and she stood, watching him in confusion, "Shouldn't we go on?" She grabbed for his hand again, "There's lots more to see..."
"No, I will stay, you leave."
She frowned, walked away slowly, he entered the room, "You must be the exchange student." A tall man exclaimed. He looked up at the man. "No. Apperantly, I am Shane."
The man laughed heartily, "Well, Shane, why don't you get to work? Get a belt and spotter and hit the weights."
"Hm," he looked around. "A spotter is...?"
He laughed again, slapping him on the back wich sent him into a fighting stance, fists clenched, fully prepared for action.
"Whoa, sorry son." He stepped back, hands raised in humility.
He dropped his fists, stared at the man, "I am your son?"
The man laughed and walked out of the room.
He frowned to himself as he watched him go then turned to the class.
"You can work with me handsome..." A small voice whispered.
He looked down, finding himslef face to face with starteling green eyes, dancing in anticipation, his thoughts were cut short when another voice cut in, "No me," a black haired girl was now pushing the girl aside and gazing up at him. More and more began to surround him, Where did they come from? he asked himself, watching them gather into a tight circle forcing him back until he felt a wall stop him, they came in closer still,
"Hey girls."
He looked up at the owner of the voice, at his savior, the same girl he'd awoken to that morning. She stood at the edge of the group, hands on hips, glowering in disgust at them. He begged her with his deep ebony eyes and she ablighed, yet, did so after much hesitation, she lifted her lip in a sneer and said, "Girls, Kevins out in the hall, he wants to see one of you about a dance..."
The crowds gaze shifted from him, to her, to the hall and without another hesitation, they were running to the door in a herd of coo's and gasps, leaving onlt her, him and a few confused guys. She grinned, shrugged and walked off, swining her hips in a proud swagger as she made her way to a squatting rack.
He watched her go, wrapped a belt he'd snatched from the shelf he'd been pinned against, around his waist as he'd witnessed others do, and made his way to a metal structure that held many round, iron like, objects, he stared at them, unsure as to what they were for.
"Thoes are for lifting oh brilliant one," the girl once again appeared, smirking at him the same way she had when he'd woken earlier.
A sudden look of amusement and comprehension over took his features and he smiled as he bent, grabbed two metal rods and heaved it easily above his head, smiling broadly.
"How is this woman?"
She didn't respond, only stared, he grew irritated and turned on her, still holding the weight rack over his head. "I asked you a question!" He reminded her warningly.
"I... I...Hm," she cocked her head to the side and stared at him.
"Respond...NOW!" Every head turned, every mouth hung open, at the sight.
"There... There must be...," she moved around him, counting off the weights on her fingers, as she went on, she paled more and more until she finally stopped.
"Well...," he growled impatiently, at the same time curious to see what was so amazing to her, and the rest of the class, who had dropped their weights to gape at them more readily.
"You're holding well over six hundred pounds!" She finally managed to gasp.
"So?" He asked, clearly perplexed now.
Her hand shook, "Well... I... I mean.... you... damn..." She felt the room spin, darken and a hand caught her as she began to fall.
He shifted his weight to lower her to the ground safely, but had trouble balancing the weight rack with one hand since she was much lighter.
Gasps rang throught the room and he looked around, trying to fathom what was wrong, as he set the rack down slowly. People began inching closer, but when he looked up at them they flinched and stopped abruptly. "What are your damned problems?" He demanded. hotly, he watched as some tried to for words and shook his head in disgust. "Never mind! Bakka's," he looked back down at the unconsious woman, "Get a wet rag or something idiots!" No body moved.
"NOW!" He growled, "Morons," he watched them trip over eachother and scurry out of the room, he fought the urge to laugh. It takes twelve of the imbasils to fetch a wet rag? Bakkas...
. . .
He glanced down at her, They sure do pamper themselves... Her eyes fluttered open at the sound of a door closing, she caught a blurry vision of him leaving and grinned, easing her eyes closed again.
"Shane!"
He turned to the voice, graoning inwardly as Mr Mower rested a hand on his shoulder.
"Guess you'll be leaving early huh?"
He responded with a questioning look.
"You mean to tell me you don't know who she is?"
He 'hmphed', crossing his arms, "I said nothing," he grummbled.
"That is Ali, she's your host..."
"That does not explain why I am to leave early."
"Well, you can't expect her to stay here, when she's fainted," he looked at the blank look on the boys face and continued, "She must be taken in for observation..."
"For passin out!" He gaped in shock.
"Of course..."
"Puh, weak humans," he turned away a bit.
"Um, well, okay then..."
He watched him go out of the corner and leaned against a wall, waiting until another hand came down on his shoulder. He turned in agrivastion, "Must you people always touch?"
He was satisfied to see the mans smile fall, he recovered a bit and extended a hand, "I am Ronny Grimbly, Ali's father."
He fought the urge to ask why he would care, roll his eyes, and demand food, instead he just watched the man expressionlessly.