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
