Part 7

Buffy sipped her coffee, carefully blowing on it to cool it down. She glanced over at Giles, who hadn't said a word to her since dinner the night before when he had asked her to pass the salt.

"Giles? What's with the cold shoulder?" Buffy asked, setting down her still-steaming mug of coffee on the glaringly white tablecloth on the much too long banquet table.

"Pardon? Oh...don't worry about it. It's nothing," Giles dismissed, turning his attention to his newspaper once more.

"It's something. You've got something-face," Buffy stated, nodding her head pointedly.

Giles sighed. "It's nothing, Buffy. Please, continue eating breakfast. You'll be late for school."

"Not until you tell me what's bothering you."

"Okay, okay. No more pestering. I was just concerned about you and your new friend." Giles paused, "Friends."

"I'm not supposed to have friends? Why?"

"Well, frankly enough, it's a tad worrying. You can't afford to have any romantic ties whatsoever. It would, quite possibly, only end badly," Giles said without making eye contact with her.

"You don't have to worry about me. I doubt that anything is going to happen anyway," Buffy said, half-truthfully. **Uh-huh...keep telling yourself that Buffy.**

*****

Buffy stepped out of the limo with a smile plastered across her face. She could already hear the dramatic 'da-da-DUM' sounding itself in her head. She accepted her stuff from Gunn—her books, bag, etc—and closed the door behind her.

She waved as the car started up again and left for parts unknown. **Knowing Gunn, probably for a spin around the block and then...well...parts unknown...I suppose. I bet he uses that thing to pick up chicks all the time...**

Buffy scanned the crowd...no one she recognised except for Cordelia. Not exactly a sight she currently wanted to recognise.

Clutching her things to her chest, she started toward the front doors. She found herself swamped with people—guys offering to carry her books, girls telling her that they were her 'absolute biggest fan in the world'—all gushing and plain wanting to be close to her...as if they thought she was a figment of their imagination yesterday.

"Buffy! Can you please sign this for me?" A voice said from beside her. An unpopular-seeming girl stood expectantly with a notebook and pen in hand, her short, dirty-blonde hair hung limply around her round face, hope shining in her extraordinarily blue eyes.

Buffy frowned. A few years ago she wouldn't have even given the time of day to a girl such as the one standing beside her. She wasn't that person anymore, though, never again. **Ooh...déjà vu. I swear, I've seen this girl before. And it wasn't from class...** "Sure," Buffy smiled. "What's your name?"

"Marcy," the girl replied, timidly casting her eyes downward.

"Here you go, Marcy," Buffy said, handing back the notebook. "Hey, aren't you in my Advanced Chemistry class? With Doctor Gregory?"

"Yeah. I am. I'm in your homeroom as well," Marcy replied. **How does she remember me? Dr. Gregory hardly even remembers me.** "How did-"

"I have good memory," Buffy beamed before leaving the awestruck girl standing there in favour of checking out the noticeboards for the cheerleading recruit lists.

Marcy Ross looked down at what was written in her notebook. "Dear Marcy, As Gustave said in Ever After, 'You look down to no one'. I always wanted blue eyes. Best wishes, Buffy." Marcy closed the notebook and slipped it back into her backpack. She bit her lip and smiled.

*****

After only a few minutes of them following her around, Buffy was getting irritated with the attention and had persuaded her groupie-guys that she didn't need the help. After all, she'd put all the stuff into her locker, she didn't need the help anymore. And if she really needed it originally, she would've asked Gunn to help. **But no...they just had to- Ooh...noticeboard.**

Buffy moved her finger down the list. "Yes! I got in..." she whispered under her breath.

"Hey, Buffy," a familiar voice said abruptly from behind her, startling Buffy so much that she jumped. Buffy turned around and leant on the noticeboard, clutching her hand to her chest.

"Willow! Don't ever do that again! I get frightened too easily. Scared, no. Frightened, yes," Buffy nodded her head emphatically.

"Aren't they the same?"

"No."

"Well, then, I didn't mean to frighten you," Willow said, frowning worriedly. "I mean, you know, c-come h-here and-"

"Don't worry about it, Willow. I'm just jumpy...I guess," Buffy said. "And hey, I got on the cheerleading squad," she said proudly.

"I didn't think you *wouldn't* make it. I mean, as far as talent goes around here, you probably wouldn't have needed to even audition."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Uh...I'm not entirely sure...but it was meant to be," Willow said cheerfully. "Xander's around here somewhere, but I can't find him. He's got this huge crush on you and I know I wasn't supposed to tell you that so it'd be good if you either forgot or didn't mention it to him or, or, or...something. I'm babbling aren't I? Not good. No more babbling."

Buffy giggled, "You're funny like that. And I kind of figured that whole Xander-crush thing out yesterday when he was looking at me weird the whole time I was talking to him. It was kinda...awkward."

"Elaborate...?"

"He was kinda...all twitchy and nervous. And his eye did this really weird thing...like a wink spasm. It was actually kinda interesting...you know, in a creepy kind of way."

"Oh, that's just classic Xander symptoms of nervousness—specifically around girls," Willow said. She leaned over to whisper in Buffy's ear, "Especially girls he has crushes on," Willow teased.

"Are you trying to set me up with Xander?" Buffy asked, alarmed at the possibility. She was feeling the growing attraction towards Angel and was hoping that maybe he'd ask her out—like, if he broke up with his supposedly evil, bitchy, annoying girlfriend. **Unless he was just joking... Hello? Happy thoughts? Where are you all gone?**

"No! Of course not! I mean, unless you want me to. Which I kinda assumed you wouldn't need me to do, since, you know, you're popular with everyone except the hippies, the Goths and those creepy people who wear 'Tool' t-shirts all the time," Willow said half-jokingly. **Boy, I bet some of them even think they're witches or something. Creepy, delusional people...I think. Actually, it'd be cool to have, like, magical powers. Is magic spelt with a 'k'? Okay, magickal powers then.**

"I won't ask. I don't think I've met any of those types of people yet," Buffy said with a smile.

"I still can't believe you're really coming to this school, being my friend and all," Willow exclaimed excitedly. "I mean, it's one thing to read about you in a magazine, but it's a totally different thing to meet you and all...I *still* think I'm dreaming."

Buffy spotted Oz and Xander approaching them and waved. "Hey."

"Oh my God, I totally forgot!" Willow said, smacking herself in the forehead. "I'm so sorry Oz. You were supposed to give me a ride to school but my mom drove me to school because she wanted to discuss the occult books available in the library for this article-thingumabob she was writing. Or something. I should've called." Willow gave Oz a quick kiss.

"It's okay. I kinda...slept in anyway," Oz said nonchalantly. "Forgiven."

"Really? Good. That's very good," Willow babbled, frantically nodding her head.

"Did you have coffee, Willow?" Xander asked suspiciously. "You know how coffee gets you like this. Not nice."

Buffy laughed, "It's either pre-pop quiz jitters or overdose."

"Overdose?" Xander asked in puzzlement.

"Overdose of caffeine," Buffy said. "You thought I meant...? No way."

"Hold on a sec. You don't...do you?" Xander said, eyes darting from left to right, keeping his focus on Buffy's every movement and gesture.

"Of course not! I'm not one of those...rocker types...with the weed and the groupies and stuff. Just lots of stalkers and screamers."

"Must be tough," Oz stated.

"Oz is in a band," Willow said proudly. "And you're right. I had some coffee this morning...just a little teeny-tiny bit, I swear."

"Let me guess...you play...bass?" Buffy asked.

"How'd you guess?" Oz asked.

"She's psychic," Xander joked, wriggling his fingers at Oz.

Buffy shrugged, "Not psychic. Just experienced."

"Are you playing tonight?" Willow asked, wrapping her arms around her boyfriend.

"Yeah, eight o'clock." Oz turned his attention to Buffy, "I'd ask you to come, but it could get a bit rowdy. Tight space, lots of young people."

"You're right, I can't. I have to stay at home tonight so that my voice trainer can come all the way from LA to do my weekly," Buffy sighed.

"You have a voice trainer? I thought you were, you know, naturally talented," Xander said nervously. His eye twitched and his hands couldn't seem to keep still—the workings of Xander-nervousness.

"My voice trainer helps me keep it in shape. It's like having a naturally buff bod, but still going to the gym every once in a while," Buffy said. Her voice training sessions were boring, sure, but it was 'necessary for her career', as Giles so kindly put it.

"A naturally buff bod? They exist?"

"You get the idea."

*****

Angel rushed to grab all his things, gym clothes, backpack and...binder. **Oh shit, I forgot to take those pictures outta my binder. Fuck! Oh well, it'll have to do... Shit...**

*****

"...and so x equals to...one and a third," Buffy's maths teacher explained on the board, writing down the working messily in hard-to-read chalk. Buffy had to squint to read the writing—it was too small and too faint.

To her left sat Willow, biting her lip in concentration in the next problem. To her right was Angel, who was struggling to read the writing on the board as well, even with his glasses on. **He looks so...academic with those glasses on... Cute in an educated kind of way, I suppose.**

"Do questions five to seventeen on page thirty-two for homework. I'll be checking it tomorrow," the teacher warned. It was only their first class and Buffy already hated her. **Too much homework...good teacher though.**

"Hey, Buffy, did you get any of what she just taught?" Angel asked, approaching her casually.

"I took notes. I *think* I got what she was saying."

"Good, cos I didn't. My ears—and glasses—fail me. It's really quite tragic."

"You could come over to my place to study, but I have plans," Buffy replied regretfully. **Damn voice trainer...** "You could pop over after dinner and I could go over the notes with you, though."

"Is eight o'clock okay?" Angel asked. He had a date with Darla for tonight, but at least he had a reason to stand her up. A good reason, too.

"Yeah. Just tell the guys at the gate that I'm expecting you. The code word is 'Dawn'," Buffy shrugged. "Security reasons. It's my sister's name."

"You have a sister?"

"Yeah. She spent the summer with my aunt in Illinois during the tour. She doesn't travel with me or any of that stuff. I'm never asked about my family...for some odd reason. I dunno. She just never comes up in interviews, I guess. She's annoying and bratty, I can tell you that much. But, yeah, I have a sister."

"Come on Buffy, we'll be late to class," Willow interrupted.

"Okay, study date, my house, at eight," Buffy said, "I'll see you there."

"Okay," Angel replied. **Plans? She has plans? I wonder who with...**

"By the way, I like your folder."