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Chapter Sixteen: Starting Over by the Flagpole
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Nat's stomach felt hollow, a drum with its leather skin pulled too tight. For the eighth or ninth time, she glanced at the glowing green face of the clock on the bedside table and, always finding it only a few minutes later than the last time she had checked, stood to examine herself in the mirror. Reasonably presentable, she concluded, brushing a stray tendril of hair behind her ear and smoothing the front of her pale pink sweater. Jean had dug up a pair of tiny, glittering, rose-colored barrettes that adorned the dark hair falling over Nat's temples, and Kitty had helped her put together a small but adequate makeup bag. As silly as it sounded, Nat felt very grown up, and ready to start a new life, in her form-fitting sweater and a smear or two of lip gloss. Squashing down a little bubble of anxiety, she hoisted her new bag over her shoulder and headed down to meet the others.
In the two weeks since she and the professor had returned from England, she'd gone through every emotion she could name, as well as a few that were pretty much foreign to her and may or may not have been simply the products of exhaustion and mental fatigue. At first she had been thrilled by the success of their trip, which in a matter of days left her drained and utterly weak. This had quickly passed into a dull haze of numbness and nightmares, a little anger for a small number of hours, followed by almost a week of tears. Some were of joy, some of sadness, and more than a few of confusion. To make it worse, she hadn't felt ready to talk to Kurt or any of the other students about what had happened, seeing as how they still thought she had gone back to England to deal with the issue of her citizenship. Finally, just when she was beginning to feel a little better, Professor Xavier had sprung something fresh on her: school enrollment, which, of course, was the source of her current jumpy nerves.
When she reached the foyer, Scott and Jean were just exiting the house. Jean waved and Scott gave her a little nod of his head as the door slipped shut behind them, leaving Nat to feel vaguely regretful that she wouldn't be able to see them again until later.
"Hey, Nat! Wait for me!"
Nat turned and saw Kitty springing down the staircase, a stack of books as wide as her slender body perched on her hip. The younger girl flashed a wide, white-toothed smile and took hold of Nat's sleeve, steering her toward the living room and chattering happily.
"This is going to be so, like, fabulous! I can show you where everything is, and the best places to eat lunch around town, and the coolest people to hang out with, and—"
"Oh, please, as if you know what you're talkin' about." Rogue, sitting cross-legged on the couch with the television remote balanced on her knee, rolled her eyes and gave Kitty a dismissive wave. Some bizarre Japanese cartoon, all flashing colors and obscure subtitles, was blaring across the screen. Beside Rogue, Evan was pretty much ignoring the arguing girls, trying to gobble down a bowl of Lucky Charms before "Auntie O" could come in and tell him to take it into the dining room.
"Whatcha watching?" Nat settled herself on the carpet at Evan's feet, and he smiled at her around a massive bite of cereal, a bit of milk dribbling down his chin. He caught it with his sleeve and looked sheepish.
"Something with lots of robots and big explosions. It's pretty good."
Still engrossed in her own project of annoying Rogue, Kitty tossed her books onto a chair and bent down over the older girl, hands on her hips, intentionally blocking the TV screen. "I know more about the lives of social people than you do, Miss 'Sit-Inside-and-Read-Vampire-Novels-in-the-Middle-of-the-Day'."
"Get outta the way, you little mall rat, or Ah swear!" Rogue swung at Kitty's shoulder in a good-natured swipe with the remote, which passed harmlessly through Kitty's suddenly wispy, insubstantial body. Kitty crossed her arms and grinned, waggling the fingers of her right hand in the air. She giggled and reached down to the floor, hauling a laughing Nat to her feet.
"Oh, never mind! Nat, let's leave the Infantile Twins alone with their cartoons and bad attitudes. We've got better things to do." She made her way back up the stairs, Nat all but stumbling along behind her up the stairs, and Kitty glancing over her shoulder to stick her tongue out at Rogue.
"Let's go see if Kurt's up. He's, like, always late if we don't do something about it." She watched Nat out the corner of her eye, trying not to sigh at the almost embarrassing blush spreading across the other's cheeks. Kitty flicked her ponytail back and, to Nat's rapidly fleeting horror, phased her head through Kurt's bedroom door. She reappeared a few seconds later, looking perfectly calm with not a hair on her head disheveled. Nat blinked hard a few times, unsure of how to react. I guess this is still going to take a little getting used to, she thought.
"He's in bed. Of course. So, let's wake him up!" Kitty gave an evil grin and rubbed her palms together like a villain in a bad melodrama, Nat almost expecting her to start twisting an imaginary mustache around her little finger.
"Okay!" The enthusiasm in her voice was unintended, and she giggled nervously when Kitty gave her an odd look. "That is…I mean…if you really want to…"
With a roll of her large blue eyes, Kitty grabbed her wrist again and gave an annoyed shake of her head. There was an odd tingling sensation that spread through Nat's body, and she subdued a gasp of terror as they shot forward suddenly, finding themselves inexplicably on the other side of the door. Kitty looked quite bored, but the expression on Nat's face was enough to leave the ponytailed girl trying desperately not to burst into a jolt laughter.
Nat glanced around, getting a tiny, sick pleasure out of being in Kurt's room without his knowing it. Warm April sunlight streamed in through the curtains and played across the beige carpeting, bathing the room in a bright yellow radiance that somehow reminded Nat of the forest. A chandelier sparkled on the ceiling high overhead, but somehow the room kept its homey feel. A stereo was playing softly from the corner and lightning bolts were flashing across the screen of the computer on his desk, which was scattered with school books, magazines and an assortment of burned CDs. Apparently, Kurt's tidiness came and went as if with the tides. An enormous bed stood with its headboard against one wall, and on it a huge mound of blankets and pillows obscured a humanoid shape smothered beneath. Two long, lean, blue legs stuck out at an awkward angle from underneath the sheets.
Kitty tiptoed around the side of the bed, snickering, and jerked her head at Nat to indicate that she should do the same. Nat, unsure of exactly what was going on, leaned over the lump that she assumed was Kurt's upper body, and eased the covers back, biting her tongue to keep from laughing at the sight that greeted her.
Kurt was sprawled face-down across the mattress, his cheek squashed unattractively against a pillow and his hair terribly unkempt. His limbs were lost in a tangle of knotted quilts, his tail wrapped around the bedpost as if he were using it to hang on for dear life. A thick copy of a hardback book (something in German that neither girl recognized) was under his torso, jabbing him in a way that didn't seem like it could be at all comfortable. He shifted and rolled onto his back when Kitty jerked the book out from under him and tossed it unceremoniously onto the dresser.
Stifling a torrent of giggles with her hand, Nat glanced up at Kitty, who looked mildly amused but not at all surprised. Moving slowly, Kitty placed her hands on either side of Kurt's head, pressing ever so slightly on the mattress. Kitty paused and Kurt stirred, wrinkling his nose as if to scratch an itch, but when he didn't open his eyes she continued her light pressure. Soon, she was mere inches away from his face, holding perfectly still. Nat's heart had gone dead in her chest with anticipation.
"Wake uuuup!" Kitty howled suddenly, bouncing up and down on the mattress, making Nat jump and yelp in fright. Kurt's reaction was even more delicious, and he was sent shooting out of bed, a look of unadulterated horror on his face. To Kitty's delight, Kurt vanished in a puff of thin, pink smoke, and when Nat glanced around in shock she found him hanging upside-down by his feet from the chandelier. At this point, he no longer looked terribly surprised, only faintly pleased, which Nat wasn't sure how to interpret.
He smiled crookedly, his tangled hair hanging like a fan from his inverted head, and let his body flip backward so his hands replaced his feet in their grip, and dropped with a quiet rustling to the mattress below. "You're getting better at that, Kitty."
Nat's eyes were huge, her mouth an open circle of surprise. "Wh-whoa! That was awesome! I had no idea you were such a great gymnast."
Kitty sighed, turning on her heel and heading out the door, her task apparently completed. "Don't get too excited, Nat. Trust me, as soon as he thinks you enjoy it, you'll be getting, like, the morning, afternoon and evening shows."
Cupping his hand around his mouth, Kurt shouted after her, "Don't pretend you don't love it, Liebchen!"
He laughed and turned to Nat, scratching his head and yawning. "I hope das ist nicht a new custom for the two of you." He grinned and winked as he walked past her into the bathroom, shutting the door most of the way but leaving it open enough that they could still talk while he brushed his teeth and hair. "Othervise, this elf may need to get a lock put on his door."
Nat chuckled a little, raising her voice over the sound of running water. "Would that really help? I mean, Kitty…"
He spat his toothpaste into the sink and rinsed with a bit of mouthwash. She heard him slap the countertop, and he stuck his head out through the door, pretending to frown. He snapped his fingers in the air with a little flourish of mock exasperation, making Nat chuckle. "Verflucht! I knew there vas a problem vith that plan…"
Neatly combed and quickly dressed, he exited the bathroom, dusting his hands together. "Vell, I'm not too late, am I?"
Nat flopped down on the edge of his bed, bouncing a little. She started flipping through the pages of the book that Kurt had been sleeping on, all of it a blur of incomprehensible ink smudges. She glanced up from the book and bit back a gasp of terror at the sight of a stranger standing before her. It was, of course, Kurt. His eyes were "normal"-colored, his skin flesh-toned and smooth with hands and feet hidden behind a peach-colored veil. Her eyes practically bugged out of her head when she realized what was going on.
She pointed at him, temporarily at a loss for words. "H-how…? Is that 'cause of that watch thingie you told me about?"
He laughed, pretending to preen in the mirror. "Not bad, nein?"
"Not at all!" He laughed again, less smoothly this time. "I was just surprised to see you…like that. I mean…you look…different. Not in a bad way, really…only…well, different."
There was a long pause, neither quite able to think of something to say.
She cleared her throat uneasily. "So. You ready to go now?"
"Ja. Komm mitt!" He grinned, pushing a pile of books off his desk and into his backpack, tossing the strap onto his shoulder. He linked his arm through hers and switched off the bedroom light, the two heading for the stairs together.
On the front porch, which was wide and pillared, Kitty, Rogue and Evan made their way to the garage. Rogue, muttering to herself, was going to drive them to school, and seemed none too pleased with her assigned chore. Kurt, on the other hand, was happily jangling his own keys in his pocket, eating a bagel as quickly as he could. "Sorry, Nat, but my car's not exactly vorking at the moment. Do you vant to go vith Rogue and the others? Or vat do you say to a nice valk? It's not too far."
Nat shrugged, trying to squelch a funny butterfly-feeling twittering around her insides. "Sounds good to me. What's wrong with your car?"
Kurt grinned with a hangdog expression. "I had a little accident vith a stubborn tree."
She groaned. "Ouch!"
"Vell, okay, then! Go go go!" He waved his hands at her backside, shuffling her down the walkway with a hoot of laughter.
By the time they made it to Bayville High, they were easily half an hour tardy, but neither was too worried about it. Nat figured that she wasn't going to get into trouble for being late on her first day, and Kurt didn't seem bothered by it anyway. They had stopped for coffee as they walked, and Nat tossed her mostly-empty cup into a trash bin as they entered the tall glass doors. There was no way to claim that she had simply gotten lost on her way if there was evidence that proved she'd been lingering at a coffee house instead.
The halls were lengthy and open, windows perched high on the walls letting sunlight brighten the linoleum flooring and the rows of gleaming blue lockers. There were still a few students loitering outside of classroom doors, talking and ignoring the clock that beckoned them to class, but they scattered at the sight of a tall, thin woman in a business suit clattering toward them on sharp-toed pumps. Beside her, Nat felt Kurt's frame go rigid, and when she glanced at him his jaw was set, his eyes cold. Ms. Darkholme, Nat thought, an inexplicable shiver running through her. She had been told about the principal of Bayville being a less-than-friendly mutant acquaintance of the X-Men, but before seeing the intimidating woman she hadn't let the idea trouble her.
Now, it was as if her blood had been sucked out, iced, and poured back into her veins with a funnel. The woman's face was pointed and lean, looking pale against her dark hair, her spine straight and unyielding. Her lips were drawn into a tight, heart-shaped blot of red, and her eyebrows were thin black lines above the frames of her glasses.
To Nat's horror, Ms. Darkholme noticed the two young mutants standing together by the entrance, and came click-clacking over to them, her thin arms folded over her chest. She looked considerably less than pleased, and stopped in front of them. Nat felt the urge to turn and flee, but pressed it down within her. Kurt, on the other hand, was looking almost defiant, his chin held upright and his light-colored eyes flashing.
"Don't you think that the two of you ought to be in class?"
Kurt said nothing, just looked at the woman with a cool expression. Nat swallowed, getting the impression that Ms. Darkholme was a bit more than just an acquaintance. "It-it's my first day, ma'am." Beside her, she felt Kurt's eyes flicker over her, irritated, and she wanted to whimper at the unaccustomed feeling of being the source of his displeasure.
Ms. Darkholme's lips curled into a delighted smile, and she placed a slim hand on Nat's shoulder, drawing her closer. Kurt was pushed out of their new little circle, but Nat was led toward the door of the office. "Than I suppose you're Natalie Fairbanks. Come with me, young lady, and we can get to know one another a bit better."
She could feel Kurt watching her, and glanced over her shoulder. He mouthed, "Be careful," and she nodded. There was a terrible nausea welling up within her, but she couldn't help but feel comforted by the fact that Kurt wouldn't have left her alone in a situation that he didn't think she could handle. Nat clenched her teeth and balled her hands into tight fists, ready to sit back and take whatever needed to be taken.
The door to the office slipped closed behind her and she jumped slightly, nervously taking in her new surroundings. It was a neatly furnished room that reminded her strangely of the way Kurt's bedroom was decorated, only with a colder, sparser feel, softened only by a number of leafy houseplants that made lacy shadows on the floor. A heavily polished wooden desk sat like a crouching beast beneath the windows, and Ms. Darkholme seated herself silently behind it, nodding Nat into a chair opposite herself.
The older woman folded her hands on the desk blotter, leaning forward with a thin smirk gracing her penciled lips. "Welcome to Bayville High, Miss Fairbanks. The professor faxed me your academic records and all the necessary paperwork just last night, and I have been eagerly awaiting your arrival ever since." Somehow, she managed to say all this with as little sincerity as possible without sounding outwardly hostile. Nat shivered, and watched Ms. Darkholme stand, staring out the window with her hands clasped behind her back. "And I'm quite sure that he has also told you that you are to behave properly around here."
"Y-yes ma'am, he certainly has." She wiped her damp hands on the thighs of her khakis.
Making Nat go cold, Ms. Darkholme whipped back around and leaned forward, bracing her knuckles on the desktop. "Then you realize, of course, that class begins precisely at half after eight, not a minute earlier or later."
Nat gulped, forcing the lump in her throat down into her stomach. She was beginning to get the definite impression that she was being watched very closely. "Definitely, Ms. Darkholme. I'm very sorry, and it won't happen again."
"See to it that it doesn't." Slowly, the principal of Bayville High crossed her arms over her chest, sneering down at Nat as if she were a creepy-crawly thing inching across her desk rather than a terrified teenaged girl. "Now. Don't you have a history class to be attending?"
Nat leaped to her feet, trying to mask her fervor to escape with a false desire to get to class. "Yes, ma'am!"
She fled on winged feet, Ms. Darkholme shaking her head behind her. Out in the hall, she jumped slightly as a movement by the library doors caught her attention, but smiled when she recognized the familiar puff of smoke from which Kurt, now an olive-skinned teenager, emerged. He gestured for her to come over, and she ignored the thought that Ms. Darkholme may still be watching them, racing over to him.
"Sorry to leave you alone like that to deal vith her," he said, shaking his head apologetically. Nat placed a hand on his shoulder and grinned.
"Don't worry about it. Just show me where I can find—" she glanced down at the schedule in her hand "—Jameson's history class, and you can make it up to me by walking me home this afternoon."
His sad expression melted instantly. "Wunderbar! Das ist the vay." He beckoned down a hallway, but rolled his eyes at some memory. "I had Jameson last semester. Vatch out for Thursday morning quizzes. They're her specialty."
Nat laughed, the cold encounter with Ms. Darkholme almost forgotten. Something still troubled her, though. "Kurt?"
He paused in front of the door that was apparently their destination, his hand on the knob. "Ja?"
She bit her bottom lip, remembering Kurt's strange reaction to Ms. Darkholme. He was usually so affable, even to people who were not so to him (her own original rude encounter with him was still fresh in her mind) but he had seemed so easily irritated by the appearance of the dark-haired woman in gray. "What have you all got against Darkholme?"
Kurt's eyebrow, now against fair skin rather than indigo, raised. "Didn't the prof tell you about her?"
"Yeah. I mean, sort of. I know she isn't exactly one of the good guys, so to speak, and she really isn't very friendly, but…well, you seemed almost angry at her."
There was a long silence in which Kurt looked very occupied with the task of peeling a sticker off the side of a nearby locker. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, but he met her eyes firmly. "I have some…issues to vork out vith Raven Darkholme."
Nat was quiet, not sure how to take that but too surprised by his reaction to press for further details. Suddenly, Kurt let out a huge sigh and turned around to her, his expression somber but not annoyed, at least not at her. "She's mein Mutter, Nat. My mother."
She felt her eyes widen, her mouth open in astonishment. Kurt glanced at her, waiting for her to respond, and all she could do was sputter out, "Oh."
"I guess I should have told you before now."
She turned away, and for a moment he thought he saw the tiniest traces of a tear glimmering in the corner of her eye. Is she angry? Scared? Why should she be? The thoughts were pushed quickly aside, and the sound of her voice a few moments later almost surprised him.
"Don't worry, Kurt. We all have our secrets."
He shifted his weight from foot to foot, unsure of just what was going on, but entirely sure that he didn't want to be the one that upset her. Gently, he put his arm around her shoulder, and she turned her head back to him and smiled, her eyes slightly red.
"I'll meet you by the flagpole at one for lunch, okay?"
He smiled slowly, squeezing her shoulder once before he let go and opened the door. "Ja, Nat. The flagpole at one."