Chapter Nineteen -- X-Static

wait until the time has come
figure that's where time comes from
leaving all my senses numb
is heaven

-"x-static," foo fighters


[Syd's POV]

"I don't believe it. There's no way you, Little-Miss-Perfect, sucks at hockey. I refuse to believe it."

God, is it humanly possible for anyone to look better than this man standing before me? I think not. I mean...The stick. Oh lord, I'm far too dirty for my own good.

"Well, you better believe it," I say as I skate up to him, "hockey was just never my thing."

"Not your thing?!" He exclaims in shock as he skates up to me. "I don't know if this relationship will last if my girlfriend says hockey's not her thing." He takes the stick from my hands and skates away.

"Hey!" I call out as I start to chase him. It's so clear that he's more adept with the skates than I am, since now he's turned himself around and is skating backwards so that he can taunt me face to face. "Give it!" I call out, stretching my arm in attempts to get my stick back.

"Syd, I don't think we're meant to be together. I'm sorry to break up with you like this." He says in between laughs.

"Mich--" Before I know what's going on, my ass lands on the ice with a thud. And damn how that thud hurt.

"Oh God, Syd," Michael calls out, his voice filled with concern as he raced toward me. All of a sudden, I start laughing hysterically. He smiles as he leans down and offers a hand to pull me up. If there were really such a thing as a million dollar smile, his would certainly be it. "Silly, silly girl..." He says as I reach my hand towards his. My grin grows as I pull him down with me.

"Silly, silly boy..." I say, unable to wipe the lovesick grin off my face as I lean towards him. Before either of us know it, we're making out like rabid animals in the middle of the Stuckeyville Ice Rink.

I swear I whimper as Michael pulls his lips away from mine. I reach out and try to pull him back down, but he gets up, stifling a laugh as he looks over to the entrance, where Warren, Diane and Mark are standing. I quickly stand up, embarassed and grab Michael's hand.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say we just walked in on our teachers gettin' hot and heavy on the ice. And I'm not gonna lie, I'm a little creeped out," Mark says as he sits down and laces up his skates.

"Aw, I think it's cute," Diane responds, smiling, "it's like you guys are back in high school or something."

"Eh get a room," Warren scowls. I guess Warren hasn't quite moved on with his life...

Michael laughs and wraps his arm around my waist. "Sorry about that guys."

"You best be apologizin. I don't think my parents would condone such a blantant display of sexuality from anyone, my own teachers at that." Warren replies matter-of-factly as he skates out onto the ice.

"Cheswick, since when did you give a crap about what your parents condone?" Mark retorts, following Warren and Diane on the ice.

"Well, we're sorry for exposing you to such gratuitous sex but I hate to break it to you, Warren..." I lace my fingers with Michael's and lean towards the kids as we skate by them, "PG13 movies have far more than what you just walked in on."

"Just goes to show you why the youth of America has such issues. Corrupted at such a young age. I don't think I'm going to take it any longer...In fact, I'm gonna write to my congressman." Geez, Warren can really get himself worked up over nothing, can't he?

"You do that, Warren." Michael says, patting him on the back as we pass by them and get off the ice. "We'll see you guys in class tomorrow. On time." Geez, he's starting to sound like my sophmore year history teacher. Oh God, nasty mental image...Michael with a big bushy gray beard, slightly overweight and balding. For the love of God, why do I put myself through such torture.

Fine, you got me. I'm slightly aroused by this image. Maybe I'll pick up a Santa costume one of these--

GOOD LORD, NO!

"Nice going, Cheswick." I hear Mark say, knocking Warren as Diane laughs while they start skating around and we sit down to take off our skates.

"Shut up." Aww, poor Warren. I used to know guys like him in high school. They used to idealize girls and other teachers to unfulfillable levels and just follow them around like puppy dogs, becoming suddenly incoherent when any of them actually wanted to talk to him. We need to find Warren some good old fashioned lovin'. Someone that he's already comfortable with...

Hell, who am I kidding. Warren isn't comfortable around any girls.

"Hey, Mikey," I say nonchalantly.

"What did you just call me?!"

"Umm, Mikey...?" He sighs and laughs then puts his arm around me again.

"I'll never get you, Bristow. But yeah, what's up."

"Give Warren lessons."

"Lessons in what?"

"In how to get 'the ladies.'"

"'The ladies'?"

"Yes, the ladies. Clearly, you have mastered the art of getting action over the years, and I want you to teach a thing or two to Warren. Not like sex, but you know...Just so he's not always so nervous. It can't be healthy for someone to sweat that much just at the sight of a pretty girl or someone that they like."

"And why, might I ask, is this coming up?"

I shrug and look back out at the kids on the ice.

"I don't know, it's just--I don't know. Warren's a good kid, and he shouldn't always feel like he's being rejected, ya know? And I think that maybe if he learns the 'tricks of the trade' per se, then maybe he'll gain the courage to talk to other girls and maybe get himself a cute little Warren girlfriend."

"And by cute little Warren girlfriend, you of course mean a blow-up doll of you, right?"

I laugh and push Michael lightly.

"Okay, you're fantasies are creeping me out."

"My fantasies?! Why would I need to fantasize about that when I have the real thing?" He always thinks he can get off by seducing me with that lovely tongue of his, but it's not gonna work this time. No sir--

Mmmmmm, Sydney likey minty Mikey.

No! Why do I lack all willpower whatsoever when it comes to this man?!

I push him away and plaster the best serious look I can on my face.

"Come on, Michael. For me. Please." Cue puppy dog look...

He rolls his eyes and puts his head in his hands. He looks up once more to see me still holding out strong with the look I have spent my whole life perfecting, and he finally gives in.

"Fine, fine, but don't expect anything as dramatic as you expect to take place." He says as he stands up. I jump up excitedly into his arms.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you." I say, giving him kisses in between each 'thank you.'

"Eh, whatever." He mutters as we walk toward the exit. "I still don't get why you're so eager about this."

I don't either. But hey, it'll be hella fun.

"Just think of it as a project or something. To redesign the life of Mr. Warren Cheswick. Maybe you can get Will in on it too and it can be a bonding experience. Bonding must ensue."

He groans and shakes his head as we step outside.

"Whatever you say. Because you clearly are the one who wears the pants in this relationship."

"Damn straight, and don't you forget it."

"It would be pretty tough to forget something as--"

"So, what were you like in high school, Mr. I'm-Too-Cool-To-Help-Out-A-Youth-In-Dire-Need-Of-A-Man-Makeover?"

Dude, this is gonna be so fun!

---

Monday Morning

"Oh my God! Oh. My. God. OHMYGOD!" I can barely contain my excitement as I walk with Carol into Stuckeyville High.

"My seniments exactly." She responds, grabbing my arm.

Carol. And. Ed. Hooked. Up.
Carol. And. Ed. Did. The. Nasty.
ALL. NIGHT. LONG.

Okay, so I may have embellished the story with that last one, but dude, you know they so did. But that's beside the point! Mr. and Mrs. Stuckeyville are together!

"So, what was it like? What did you say? What did he say?! Details, Carol! And pronto cuz I've got a class to be at in approximately, four minutes and 52 seconds."

"Okay, okay, okay." She says quickly as we turn the corner. "Well it started at the park when they were playing basketball and I was like 'oh God' and he was like 'hey Carol, what's up' and I was like 'Ed, I think we need to talk.' Then we talked. And then we kissed. And then we went back to his place. And then we had sex like the animals that we are."

Um, okay...? How...romantic...?

"Yeah, clearly, you are in absolutely no state to speak or convey any emotions but post-coital bliss coherently, so I'll save this chat for a bit later." I say, laughing. Suddenly, my eye is caught by a new glittery poster adorning the bulletin board. "Spring Formal? Isn't it a little early for a Spring Formal?"

"Oh yeah, it's a Stuckeyville High tradition to have the Spring Formal early. Don't ask me why, Stuckeyville-ians are odd folk." Carol responds as we make our way to her classroom.

"I can certainly attest to that." I joke.

Hmmm, Spring Formal. A month or so away. I think this gives Mikey plenty of time to tranform the Chez into a chick magnet. But him and will must move fast.

"Aww, Syd, come here!" Carol calls out, getting misty eyed as she covers her mouth with her hand and motions to the flowers on her desk. "He got me flowers. FLOW-ERS." She plops down and pulls the card out, staring at it in wonder.

I laugh and take a quick sniff before the bell rings.

"Oh crap! I have a class to teach!" I call out as I'm halfway to the door. "You're gonna have to tell me everything at lunch. Don't leave out anything. And try to regain some coherency by then!"

---

"Okay, slow down there, little lady."

The man works for the CIA and he can't even follow Giddy!Sydney. This is a sad, sad display. I sigh loudly, put my hands on my hips and roll my eyes.

"Don't be showin' no sass girl."

I stop dead in my tracks and stare at Michael with the most blank expression known to man before breaking out into a fit of hysterics.

"Michael! You are so not--Oh God, maybe I've gotten the wrong guy to do this for Warren. Before I know it he'll be telling people to stop 'talkin' sass' and he'll try to be ghetto, and you know what a disaster that'll be when he tries to befriend the ghetto white boys...They'll beat him to a pulp!"

Michael laughs, and the sound of it breaks me out of character. Dammit. I still am at a loss for will power.

"Okay, okay. I get it. No more. What's the deal?"

"Okay, first things first." I say, walking up to his desk and placing my hands on them so that I can lean my head closer to his.

"Spring Formal. March fifth."

"Aw, Sydney, are you asking me if I'll go to the Spring Formal with you? I don't know what to tell you, I'm flattered, but Cindy Jenkins already asked me and I said yes. Maybe another time though."

"Michael!"

"Ouch, not one much for the witty sarcasm you usually seem to love to so much, are we?"

"No, we're not. We've got business at hand."

"Isn't March fifth a little early for a Spring Formal? It'll be freezing." He starts leafing through his papers and pulls out a red pen to start grading. Here I am trying to have a heart to heart with him, and he goes Mr. Kotter on my ass. Where are we, a school?!

Wait, scratch that.

"Michael. Listen to me. Clearly you aren't making the connections that your usually astute mind picks up. There will be a Spring Formal, March fifth. Get it so far."

He looks at me and shakes his head in disgust. Fine then, be that way.

"You," I point to him, "and Will," I step back and put a goofy grin on my face and pretend to be writing on the newspaper he has on his desk.

"Ooh, I love charades. Journalist!"

"Yeah!" I point to him and give him a triumphant high five. "Are going. To give. Warren. Cheswick. The ultimate man-makeover. By the time kids start looking around for dates."

He looks up, shakes his head, and looks at me confused. "Sorry, Syd, I stopped paying attention when the charades stopped coming. I rock chrarades like no other."

I smack his head lightly as he starts to laugh.

"Silly, silly boy." I say, shaking my head as I sit back down in one of his students' desks.

"Wait a second here, Syd. Do you think it's really so smart to first of all, spring this up on poor Warren out of the blue? I mean, what do you expect us to say, 'Hey dude, your style and your personality kinda sucks. We're gonna change it and make it so that girls like you and so that you're less nervous around them. Because, you know it, we know it, you can't get a girl for your life.'"

"Geez, that was harsh."

"No! That's what I'm saying! What are we supposed to do here that won't make us out to be the bad guys! And what do you want us to do? Totally change his personality so that he'll suddenly be attractive? That's just not right. Warren should be who he wants to be, and whether people like that or not, it's their problem."

"No, Michael, I'm not saying that. Just trust me on this one. I see Warren everyday in English, and I know for a fact that if you and Will just went up to him one day and started a conversation about school, girls...the dance...He'd open up to you guys. He really likes you, Michael, and if you extend a hand and offer to help him out, he'll take it and he won't be in the least bit insulted. I'm not saying you should go and completely change his personality and his style. I guess "man-makeover" wasn't the best term--"

"But bravo for coining it, nonetheless."

"Thank you. But yeah, I'm just saying help him gain some confidence. I don't know what that will entail but just help him out. How much would you have loved it if two stylish thirty-something guys came up to you when you were in high school and told you to that the mullet had to go? And then became friends with you? So that you'd have someone to talk to that had been through the same experiences and could help you out and make your high school experience, which for most people sucks ass, a Hell of a lot better?"

Michael sighs and stands up, making his way towards me.

"Sydney, I don't know what has gotten into you," he says, leaning on my desk, "but you're right. And I'll do it."

I smile and wrap my arms around him, bringing him down for a kiss.

"But Will??" He asks, as we part.

"Yes. Will." I respond, grinning.

"Okay, fine," he says with a hint of attitude. He walks back to his desk and puts all his papers and books into his shoulder bag and picks it up. I stand up, walk over to him and grasp his hand.

"So, did you hear about Ed and Carol?" I ask excited to spread the good news.

"No, what happened?"

"Let's just say that there might just be some little Ed and Carols running around Stuckeyville Day Care in no time..."

Michael stops in his tracks and turns to me with a shocked expression on his face.

"He asked her to marry him?! They're getting married?! They haven't even gotten together and they're getting married?! I'm one of Ed's best friends and he didn't even tell me...Wait, how can they be getting married?!"

Sometimes, I just wonder how on Earth he became an Agent.

I shake my head sadly.

"No, my dear Michael. I'll have to be sure not to use hyperbole when I talk to you, and instead speak absolutely literally. They finally got together. And by 'got together' I mean got TOGether."

His eyes light up like a kid in a candy shop.

Two words: Double. Dates.

Weeee!

END CHAPTER NINETEEN