A/N: The events of Tuesday and Wednesday.
**********
Tabitha took a seat in the back of the room and pulled out the answer sheet Pietro had given her. Mrs. Hawkins came in from the hallway and clapped her hands to get the class's attention.
"Everyone in your seats!" she said loudly.
There was a screeching of chairs against the tiled floor. Tabitha noticed that everyone sat as far away from Jack Lander as possible.
"Pencils out, notes away," Mrs. Hawkins ordered. "You have until the end of the period." She began to pass out the test papers. "Notes away, Miss Smith," she repeated as she passed Tabitha's desk.
"They're not notes," Tabitha said matter-of-factly.
The teacher took a closer look. "Miss Smith, this is the answer sheet!" she exclaimed.
Tabitha nodded and picked up her pencil to begin the exam. Mrs. Hawkins took the answer sheet and the test. "You get an automatic F for cheating!" she said angrily. "You will spend the rest of the period in the detention room!"
Tabitha shrugged, picked up her backpack, and left.
**********
The lone BoM female plopped into her usual seat in the detention room. "Hey, Tabby," said a familiar voice behind her.
She turned around. "Hey, Toad," she sighed. "What are you here for?"
"Man, they busted me for adding a little slime to whatever we was makin' in chemistry," Toad ranted. "Not *that* much stuff caught on fire, yo."
"Mrs. Hawkins sent me for creative study habits," Tabitha answered the question Toad hadn't asked. "It's not like I stole those answers or anything."
"Yo, I hate this place," Toad grumbled. "I wish somethin' interestin' would happen once in a while."
**********
Kurt suddenly despised Wednesdays. Normally he was pretty impartial towards the days of the week, but the BAMF meetings made him want to rip all the Wednesday pages out of his daily calendar. The rest of the school, on the other hand, seemed pretty enthusiastic.
The usually slow middle-of-the-week day sped by in record time, and Kurt found himself standing once more behind the dreaded podium. Hundreds of faces looked at him expectantly.
"Your President is unfortunately absent today," he began, "so I'm going to be running the meeting. I'm happy to say we've identified more of Bayville's mutants!"
The crowd cheered, urging him on. Reluctantly, Kurt began to name the unpopulars who had shown up in the submission box.
"Emily Parks is a mutant!" he declared. The crowd roared.
"Mark Stengelberg, that weird junior, is one too!" Kurt continued. The audience's excitement spurred him on.
"And so is Raquel Spinoza!" he shouted. "I can't believe I never noticed!" Kurt was thriving on the enthusiasm of his public. Against his will, he was almost enjoying himself.
"And Quentin Blake, the kid on the math team!" It was times like this Kurt was thankful for his overactive imagination. "He was born with a calculator in his brain!" The crowd was really going wild, with the exception of their unlucky targets.
"He's getting carried away again," Scott whispered to Jean. "This isn't going to end well."
"We knew that from the beginning," Jean whispered back.
"You'll never guess who else is a mutant!" Kurt yelled into the microphone. "Duncan Matthews!"
The cheering was suddenly interrupted by the sounds of confusion. "I am not!" Duncan called from somewhere in the stands. "No one will believe that!"
"Sure they will!" Kurt shouted back. "Come on, people! How could anyone play football that well without some kind of special powers?"
The spectators seemed pretty unsure about this accusation. Kurt was disappointed about losing his audience until he reminded himself that this was the plan. Working a crowd was one of his skills, and he led them further into their uncertainty.
"Amy, your President, is a mutant too!" he announced. "Isn't it brilliant? No one would ever suspect her!"
That was enough. "No way!" said more than a few people.
Suddenly, Kurt saw a blur of motion out of the corner of his eye. The next thing he knew, he was lying on the floor with Pietro sitting on top of him.
"What are you doing?" Kurt asked in confusion.
"Giving the people what they came for," Pietro sneered.
Kurt saw what was coming. "I could take this somewhere more private," he said. It wasn't a suggestion, nor was it a threat. It was just a simple statement of fact.
"Would that really be any better for your reputation?" Pietro laughed. "Disappearing with an innocent student?"
It wasn't really a choice Kurt wanted to make, but Pietro didn't give him any time to weigh the options. In one smooth motion, he turned off the image inducer, stood up, and dragged Kurt to his feet.
Some people gasped. Some screamed. Some shouted in anger. One came down from the stands and pushed Pietro.
Kurt looked up. "Jack?" he said in surprise. "What are you doing?"
Jack Lander looked at him, with no trace of fear or hatred in his eyes. "Helping you out," he said.
"Why?" Kurt was even more confused. "After what I did?"
"It's okay," Jack smiled. "I understand now.
"Ha!" he shouted, turning to the crowd. "See the terrible curse I have put on Kurt Wagner, to make him turn into a demon like me!" The crowd roared in outrage.
"But I see the evil of my ways!" Jack continued. He turned to Kurt and waved his fingers. "I remove the curse of the demon from Kurt Wagner's head!" He winked slyly, and Kurt caught on.
He turned his image inducer back on and exclaimed happily, "The curse is broken! I am back to normal!"
"No!" Pietro waved his arms to get the crowd's attention. "It's a lie! Kurt is the real demon!"
"No, I am!" Jack shouted over him.
"It's a publicity stunt!" Kurt said even more loudly.
"You're all crackpots!" someone yelled. Apparently many people were of the same opinion, because entire rows began to file out of the gymnasium.
Jack glared at Pietro. "Get out," he said. Pietro did.
"Thanks," Kurt said awkwardly. "But I still don't-"
"My cousin is a mutant," Jack explained. "Sometimes you just have to..." he trailed off, staring into space. "Everybody here hates me," he continued, his eyes suddenly refocusing, "but I'm transferring to a new school next term anyway. So...bye."
"Bye," Kurt said weakly. Jack turned to leave, and didn't look back.
**********
Tabitha took a seat in the back of the room and pulled out the answer sheet Pietro had given her. Mrs. Hawkins came in from the hallway and clapped her hands to get the class's attention.
"Everyone in your seats!" she said loudly.
There was a screeching of chairs against the tiled floor. Tabitha noticed that everyone sat as far away from Jack Lander as possible.
"Pencils out, notes away," Mrs. Hawkins ordered. "You have until the end of the period." She began to pass out the test papers. "Notes away, Miss Smith," she repeated as she passed Tabitha's desk.
"They're not notes," Tabitha said matter-of-factly.
The teacher took a closer look. "Miss Smith, this is the answer sheet!" she exclaimed.
Tabitha nodded and picked up her pencil to begin the exam. Mrs. Hawkins took the answer sheet and the test. "You get an automatic F for cheating!" she said angrily. "You will spend the rest of the period in the detention room!"
Tabitha shrugged, picked up her backpack, and left.
**********
The lone BoM female plopped into her usual seat in the detention room. "Hey, Tabby," said a familiar voice behind her.
She turned around. "Hey, Toad," she sighed. "What are you here for?"
"Man, they busted me for adding a little slime to whatever we was makin' in chemistry," Toad ranted. "Not *that* much stuff caught on fire, yo."
"Mrs. Hawkins sent me for creative study habits," Tabitha answered the question Toad hadn't asked. "It's not like I stole those answers or anything."
"Yo, I hate this place," Toad grumbled. "I wish somethin' interestin' would happen once in a while."
**********
Kurt suddenly despised Wednesdays. Normally he was pretty impartial towards the days of the week, but the BAMF meetings made him want to rip all the Wednesday pages out of his daily calendar. The rest of the school, on the other hand, seemed pretty enthusiastic.
The usually slow middle-of-the-week day sped by in record time, and Kurt found himself standing once more behind the dreaded podium. Hundreds of faces looked at him expectantly.
"Your President is unfortunately absent today," he began, "so I'm going to be running the meeting. I'm happy to say we've identified more of Bayville's mutants!"
The crowd cheered, urging him on. Reluctantly, Kurt began to name the unpopulars who had shown up in the submission box.
"Emily Parks is a mutant!" he declared. The crowd roared.
"Mark Stengelberg, that weird junior, is one too!" Kurt continued. The audience's excitement spurred him on.
"And so is Raquel Spinoza!" he shouted. "I can't believe I never noticed!" Kurt was thriving on the enthusiasm of his public. Against his will, he was almost enjoying himself.
"And Quentin Blake, the kid on the math team!" It was times like this Kurt was thankful for his overactive imagination. "He was born with a calculator in his brain!" The crowd was really going wild, with the exception of their unlucky targets.
"He's getting carried away again," Scott whispered to Jean. "This isn't going to end well."
"We knew that from the beginning," Jean whispered back.
"You'll never guess who else is a mutant!" Kurt yelled into the microphone. "Duncan Matthews!"
The cheering was suddenly interrupted by the sounds of confusion. "I am not!" Duncan called from somewhere in the stands. "No one will believe that!"
"Sure they will!" Kurt shouted back. "Come on, people! How could anyone play football that well without some kind of special powers?"
The spectators seemed pretty unsure about this accusation. Kurt was disappointed about losing his audience until he reminded himself that this was the plan. Working a crowd was one of his skills, and he led them further into their uncertainty.
"Amy, your President, is a mutant too!" he announced. "Isn't it brilliant? No one would ever suspect her!"
That was enough. "No way!" said more than a few people.
Suddenly, Kurt saw a blur of motion out of the corner of his eye. The next thing he knew, he was lying on the floor with Pietro sitting on top of him.
"What are you doing?" Kurt asked in confusion.
"Giving the people what they came for," Pietro sneered.
Kurt saw what was coming. "I could take this somewhere more private," he said. It wasn't a suggestion, nor was it a threat. It was just a simple statement of fact.
"Would that really be any better for your reputation?" Pietro laughed. "Disappearing with an innocent student?"
It wasn't really a choice Kurt wanted to make, but Pietro didn't give him any time to weigh the options. In one smooth motion, he turned off the image inducer, stood up, and dragged Kurt to his feet.
Some people gasped. Some screamed. Some shouted in anger. One came down from the stands and pushed Pietro.
Kurt looked up. "Jack?" he said in surprise. "What are you doing?"
Jack Lander looked at him, with no trace of fear or hatred in his eyes. "Helping you out," he said.
"Why?" Kurt was even more confused. "After what I did?"
"It's okay," Jack smiled. "I understand now.
"Ha!" he shouted, turning to the crowd. "See the terrible curse I have put on Kurt Wagner, to make him turn into a demon like me!" The crowd roared in outrage.
"But I see the evil of my ways!" Jack continued. He turned to Kurt and waved his fingers. "I remove the curse of the demon from Kurt Wagner's head!" He winked slyly, and Kurt caught on.
He turned his image inducer back on and exclaimed happily, "The curse is broken! I am back to normal!"
"No!" Pietro waved his arms to get the crowd's attention. "It's a lie! Kurt is the real demon!"
"No, I am!" Jack shouted over him.
"It's a publicity stunt!" Kurt said even more loudly.
"You're all crackpots!" someone yelled. Apparently many people were of the same opinion, because entire rows began to file out of the gymnasium.
Jack glared at Pietro. "Get out," he said. Pietro did.
"Thanks," Kurt said awkwardly. "But I still don't-"
"My cousin is a mutant," Jack explained. "Sometimes you just have to..." he trailed off, staring into space. "Everybody here hates me," he continued, his eyes suddenly refocusing, "but I'm transferring to a new school next term anyway. So...bye."
"Bye," Kurt said weakly. Jack turned to leave, and didn't look back.