*Cause we like having fun at other people's expense, and
Cutting people down is just a minor offense, and
It's none of your concern, I guess you'll never learn
I'm sick of being told the way to turn (?)
I don't wanna waste my time
Become another casualty of society
I will never fall in line
Become another victim of nonconformity
Back down*
*Sum41 - Fat Lip*
Lunchtime, at the local high school. They were on block scheduling. Four classes a day, with about an hour's free time between second and third period. One of the things you could do during that time was eat. Most people used the time to eat, and chat with friends. The overachievers studied with teachers and did their homework, while the "bad kids" smoked pot behind the gym.
Angel kept to herself, as she always did. Eat a quick lunch, then find somewhere quiet to be away from the chaotic jumble of minds that often threatened to overwhelm her limited psychic abilities. So many minds in a small space... it was a wonder that she was still sane, and even then she had to wonder.
Today she was walking the halls, in the classic Angel pose of her head bowed and her hands stuffed in the pockets of the ever-present trenchcoat. With lunchtime at hand, most of the kids were eating. For some reason, it calmed her down to hear her footsteps echoing back to her from the nearly-empty hallway. Then she spotted an Army recruiter standing in the lobby next to a table of brochures, pens, and buttons. He looked bored out of his mind, so Angel ambled over to him and asked him if he had any war stories. He didn't, being fresh out of cadet training, so told her about that instead. She was an avid listener of anything that was remotely violent, and stayed to hear his horror stories of demanding drill sergeants and all the tests they had to take.
Distracting sounds reached her sensitive ears, and she quietly excused herself. There were shouts, many of anger and one of fear. That fearful voice was accompanied by an equally fearful mind, and Angel's blood boiled as she recognized the angry minds. Bullies. Absently she popped her knuckles as she strode toward the noise, coming from an empty classroom.
"I said gimme your lunch money, you little wimp!" The speaker was a harsh gang-girl named Jolene, the de facto leader of an all-girl gang called the Pink Panthers. Angel found the name to be irritatingly cute, and made sure to rub it in whenever possible.
The victim was a blond girl with striking aquamarine eyes. A freshman, getting her first taste of the pecking order in the high school. She was cowering in the corner as Jolene and a group of Panthers taunted her mercilessly.
"Listen, slut, if you want to live, then I suggest that you follow our rules." Jolene towered over the poor freshman, her hand raised and ready to strike.
"If you want to eat dinner with that hand tonight, then I suggest you put it down now," came the harsh voice from the doorway. Jolene whirled to see Angel standing there, with a look in her eyes that would have thawed a glacier.
"You stay out of this, freak!" Jolene snapped.
"Fat chance, Pinky."
Another Panther, Heather, stepped forward. "Leave now, or we'll break her in half!"
"Try it and I'll drop you where you stand." Angel refused to budge. Heather was forced to turn away from the icy flames in Angel's eyes.
Lesser Panthers knew a fight coming when they saw it, and rushed to scoot the empty desks out of the way to clear room for the combatants. It looked to be Jolene and Angel.
"I win, you leave her alone. You win, you get to kick her ass all over the place." Angel's tone was firm. There was no possiblity of her losing. She had never lost a fight before. Ever. She'd kicked ass on well-trained men three times her size, and this was a simple street-gang thug.
"Hers won't be the only ass I'll be kicking!" Jolene snarled. She balled up her fists in what seemed to Angel to be an ameturish fighting stance, at best.
Angel stood like a statue, hands folded in front of her. Inwardly she felt just a bit of pity for her opponent. Jolene had no idea what she was getting into. Then a thought occured to her. She was already in enough trouble at school. This one wouldn't be self-defense, because Angel had challenged the fight. The principal, "Iron Balls" McGinty, was just itching to suspend Angel. It frustrated the poor woman to no end to be unable to get Angel for fighting, since Angel was always the victim. Not so this time.
Jolene came forward, fists up, bouncing like a boxer. Angel stood impassively, almost bored, her arms folded. Then Jolene threw a swift jab. She hit nothing but air as Angel flexed her upper half to one side, then straightened and stood as motionless as before. Jolene tried again, with a 1-2 combination. Both of them were dodged effortlessly. Jolene muttered something and tried to tackle the living statue, who sidestepped the attack neatly and turned to face her opponent again. Her hands hadn't moved an iota.
Now Jolene rushed like a boxer, continually dancing forward as she threw jabs, hooks, tried thows, tried using her fingernails. Angel became a silvery whirlwind as she leaned, dodged, sidestepped, and slipped away. Angel's arms stayed firmly in place as the albino GrandMaster snaked away from many would-be devastating hits. The anger and frustration in Jolene's mind mounted exponentially as she continued to box with this living shadow.
***********************************
In the lobby, the army recruiter heard the snarls and cries, and loped down the hall, to that classroom. His shout died on his lips and he watched agape as Angel effortlessy dodged the pitiful attacks of the tiring Jolene.
***********************************
Now Angel was tiring of the game, and decided to put her plan into action. She continued to dance around her sweating opponent, this time dragging her foot behind her in order to back away more than sidestep. Jolene took the bait and followed Angel like a snarling puppy, shouting curses and throwing round after round of ineffectual hits. Angel merely gave that cocky, knowing smile as she continued to lead Jolene around the room.
Then Angel slammed into one of the walls, her back firmly pressed against the painted cinderblocks. She adopted a look of terror, and seemed to freeze in place.
Believing her prey to be trapped, Jolene smiled evilly as she cocked her fist and threw a strong punch, wrapping all her might into it.
Angel saw the fist coming, and waited to the last second to twitch out of the way, ducking down and to the side, as Jolene's fist whistled past her head--
--and slammed full-strength into the wall. The girl's face contorted with pain, and she cradled the mangled hand in her other. Angel had danced away again, and was now standing as impassively as if the contest had never taken place.
"What'd you do that for, bitch?" screeched Heather as she rushed to Jolene's side and was hit with a striking slap by Jolene's good hand.
"Yeah, like it's my duty to stand there and let her cream me," Angel replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Then her arms finally moved, coming in front of her as she took a fighting stance. "You want some more? This time I'll fight back!"
Jolene muttered random obscenities as she hobbled out the door and to the office, her injured hand now bleeding and turning black around the knuckles. Probably broke it, Angel thought.
There was an impasse, as the girls all stared at each other. Then there was the sound of voices in the hall, and locker doors slamming. The kids were back from lunch. A trio of boys squeezed past the Army recruiter and filed into the classroom. Apparently this was their next-hour class, but then one boy's face grew wide.
"Christie!" The youth dropped his books and raced over to the terrified freshman. "Christie, are you okay?" Angel noted that the two bore a striking resemblance to each other, and correctly guessed that they were siblings.
The little blond girl, Christie, looked into her brother's eyes. "I'm fine, Jeff," she said shakily and tried to stand.
The youth, a bleach-blond, helped his sister to her feet. Then he turned to Angel, and stuck out his hand. "I'm Jeff Clay. Thanks for your help."
"I didn't do it for you," Angel replied brusquely, and ignored the hand. "I have no respect for people that can't take care of themselves."
A look of annoyance and confusion crossed his face. "Then why did you?"
She stared him deep in the eyes, her lavendar orbs fixed intently on his own, the same startling aquamarine color as his sister's. Then that stern mouth opened slightly. "Perhaps I hate bullies more than I hate weaklings." That said, she spun on her heel and quickly exited the room, headed for the office where she knew she would be summoned quite soon.
Jeff's jaw dropped, and he sputtered, trying to think of a reply to shoot at the disappearing back. Christie only whimpered and buried her face in her brother's chest.
Stern faces greeted Angel at the office, and she silently followed Iron Balls McGinty to the back rooms. Jolene was just leaving in an ambulance, her hand indeed broken. Angel took a seat in one of the chairs surrounding the bare folding table. Standing around the room were Principal McGinty, Officer Todd, and the Army recruiter, who had witnessed nearly the entire thing. Officer Todd, the school corrections officer, left to fetch Christie Clay. With her exceptional hearing, Angel had no trouble listening to the quiet but animated conversation between the Principal and the Army recruiter. He was reliving what he'd seen of the fight, repeatedly expressing awe at the way Angel had dodged the attacks. He'd never seen anything like it in his life.
Principal McGinty turned to the seated Angel. "You know I'm going to suspend you, right?"
Angel shook her head. "With all due respect, I think not. I mean, in all technicality, it wasn't a true fight."
"Beg pardon?"
"It wasn't a fight. Nor was it self defense." A tiny smile quirked the edges of Angel's hard mouth. "How can it be a fight if I didn't fight back? She never touched me, I never touched her, and she punched the wall of her own accord."
Principal McGinty could only stare, and Angel could practically see the gears turning slowly in her head. A woman in her late fifties, with blond-white hair worn grandma-style, and thick horn-rimmed glasses. She always wore pants, rumor having it that her ankles were bigger than her thighs. These were the same people that had claimed to find mouse bones in the mystery meat, but beggers couldn't be choosers in the information department.
Officer Todd returned with the two Clay siblings. Angel was surprised; normally only those directly involved in these little spats were brought back here. Then she realized that it was because Christie was about to dissolve, her mind still in shock after the attack. Jeff was along for emotional support, but Angel guessed that he'd been told to keep his mouth shut.
At an agonizingly slow pace, in Angel's opinion, Christie spilled out her story, and Angel's part in the whole thing. Jeff kept trying to catch Angel's eye, but she pointedly ignored him. He was still mystified as to her behavior, and his mind clamored for an explanation. She wasn't about to give him one, at least not now.
Principal McGinty desperately wanted to expel Angel, or at least suspend her. She was tired of late-night calls by parents demanding that Angel be punished for maiming their child, whereas Angel was always the victim. She was a bully magnet, and for some strange reason the bullies kept attacking even after injuries as severe as this one. This was the first time Angel had actually sought a fight, and even then she technically hadn't done anything wrong.
Angel smiled slightly as she registered the defeat in Principal McGinty's mind. She almost felt sorry for the poor woman. Almost.
There was another problem for the distraught woman. Angel was a walking harassment lawsuit just waiting to explode. She was being harassed all the time by bullies, but had yet to file any lawsuits. Part of that was that Angel enjoyed the exercise. Another was that if Angel sued, she'd name Principal McGinty as one of the defendants, and could drag it all over the town that the principal did nothing to "ease this poor child's pain" or some shit like that. Youths with physical deformities were always natural bully magnets, and the albino Angel was the meanest one yet. Therefore, she continually held it over the older woman's head that if she punished Angel, her own ass was on the line. A crude tactic, and one Angel didn't enjoy using, but it worked.
Angel didn't consider her albinism a deformity at all. In fact, she rather enjoyed her distinctive silver hair. People left her alone, and she was just fine with that. She wasn't much of a people person. The only person in the school that was even remotely her friend was Mr. Oehlschlaeger, the Japanese teacher. She was his student aide, and they would frequently hold fast-paced discussions in Angel's favorite language. Angel and Mr. O conversed on everything from bullies to politics to restaurants to TV shows. The only living adult besides Bryan and Jerry that she actually trusted.
With the stories of Jolene, Angel, Christie, and the Army guy all saying that Angel didn't even throw a punch, Principal McGinty reluctantly dismissed her charges and headed dejectedly to her office, wishing she were home with a nice movie and a tall glass of scotch. Angel didn't crack a smile as she stood tall and headed for the halls. They would be late for their third-hour classes, but Angel's third hour was Japanese, and Mr. O completely understood her bully problem.
She was digging through her locker for the Japanese book (why the hell did she need to study the textbook? She was not only his aide, she was practically a native speaker) when her mind registered another close being with intent toward her. She stood and turned, and saw Jeff heading toward her. Christie was nowhere to be seen.
"I want to know why you stuck up for my sister," Jeff said calmly, leaning against the lockers.
"I already told you why."
"But that can't be it! Nobody does stuff like that just because they feel like it," he protested.
She straightened and looked him in the eye. "Maybe I do. You got a problem with it?"
"No, no, it's fine," he said quickly, and raised his hands in peace. "I've just never met anybody that thinks like you do."
"Take a picture, it lasts longer," she snapped. Ignoring the hurt look on his face, she gathered her books and was walking away when she heard his voice again. She paused, without turning around.
"Hey, Angel. I know you don't like it, but... I just wanted to say thank you, anyway. I appreciate you standing up for my sister like that."
Angel stood for a moment longer, then resumed walking away without replying. A wave of frustration passed through his mind, to be replaced with intrigue. Curiosity. Not the 'hey, what are you?' curiosity she was used to. No, this one was different. He seemed genuinely interested in the way she thought.
Angel decided that she would tolerate the boy, because he definitely had intent to talk to her on future occasions.
Plus, he had a really nice smile.
Cutting people down is just a minor offense, and
It's none of your concern, I guess you'll never learn
I'm sick of being told the way to turn (?)
I don't wanna waste my time
Become another casualty of society
I will never fall in line
Become another victim of nonconformity
Back down*
*Sum41 - Fat Lip*
Lunchtime, at the local high school. They were on block scheduling. Four classes a day, with about an hour's free time between second and third period. One of the things you could do during that time was eat. Most people used the time to eat, and chat with friends. The overachievers studied with teachers and did their homework, while the "bad kids" smoked pot behind the gym.
Angel kept to herself, as she always did. Eat a quick lunch, then find somewhere quiet to be away from the chaotic jumble of minds that often threatened to overwhelm her limited psychic abilities. So many minds in a small space... it was a wonder that she was still sane, and even then she had to wonder.
Today she was walking the halls, in the classic Angel pose of her head bowed and her hands stuffed in the pockets of the ever-present trenchcoat. With lunchtime at hand, most of the kids were eating. For some reason, it calmed her down to hear her footsteps echoing back to her from the nearly-empty hallway. Then she spotted an Army recruiter standing in the lobby next to a table of brochures, pens, and buttons. He looked bored out of his mind, so Angel ambled over to him and asked him if he had any war stories. He didn't, being fresh out of cadet training, so told her about that instead. She was an avid listener of anything that was remotely violent, and stayed to hear his horror stories of demanding drill sergeants and all the tests they had to take.
Distracting sounds reached her sensitive ears, and she quietly excused herself. There were shouts, many of anger and one of fear. That fearful voice was accompanied by an equally fearful mind, and Angel's blood boiled as she recognized the angry minds. Bullies. Absently she popped her knuckles as she strode toward the noise, coming from an empty classroom.
"I said gimme your lunch money, you little wimp!" The speaker was a harsh gang-girl named Jolene, the de facto leader of an all-girl gang called the Pink Panthers. Angel found the name to be irritatingly cute, and made sure to rub it in whenever possible.
The victim was a blond girl with striking aquamarine eyes. A freshman, getting her first taste of the pecking order in the high school. She was cowering in the corner as Jolene and a group of Panthers taunted her mercilessly.
"Listen, slut, if you want to live, then I suggest that you follow our rules." Jolene towered over the poor freshman, her hand raised and ready to strike.
"If you want to eat dinner with that hand tonight, then I suggest you put it down now," came the harsh voice from the doorway. Jolene whirled to see Angel standing there, with a look in her eyes that would have thawed a glacier.
"You stay out of this, freak!" Jolene snapped.
"Fat chance, Pinky."
Another Panther, Heather, stepped forward. "Leave now, or we'll break her in half!"
"Try it and I'll drop you where you stand." Angel refused to budge. Heather was forced to turn away from the icy flames in Angel's eyes.
Lesser Panthers knew a fight coming when they saw it, and rushed to scoot the empty desks out of the way to clear room for the combatants. It looked to be Jolene and Angel.
"I win, you leave her alone. You win, you get to kick her ass all over the place." Angel's tone was firm. There was no possiblity of her losing. She had never lost a fight before. Ever. She'd kicked ass on well-trained men three times her size, and this was a simple street-gang thug.
"Hers won't be the only ass I'll be kicking!" Jolene snarled. She balled up her fists in what seemed to Angel to be an ameturish fighting stance, at best.
Angel stood like a statue, hands folded in front of her. Inwardly she felt just a bit of pity for her opponent. Jolene had no idea what she was getting into. Then a thought occured to her. She was already in enough trouble at school. This one wouldn't be self-defense, because Angel had challenged the fight. The principal, "Iron Balls" McGinty, was just itching to suspend Angel. It frustrated the poor woman to no end to be unable to get Angel for fighting, since Angel was always the victim. Not so this time.
Jolene came forward, fists up, bouncing like a boxer. Angel stood impassively, almost bored, her arms folded. Then Jolene threw a swift jab. She hit nothing but air as Angel flexed her upper half to one side, then straightened and stood as motionless as before. Jolene tried again, with a 1-2 combination. Both of them were dodged effortlessly. Jolene muttered something and tried to tackle the living statue, who sidestepped the attack neatly and turned to face her opponent again. Her hands hadn't moved an iota.
Now Jolene rushed like a boxer, continually dancing forward as she threw jabs, hooks, tried thows, tried using her fingernails. Angel became a silvery whirlwind as she leaned, dodged, sidestepped, and slipped away. Angel's arms stayed firmly in place as the albino GrandMaster snaked away from many would-be devastating hits. The anger and frustration in Jolene's mind mounted exponentially as she continued to box with this living shadow.
***********************************
In the lobby, the army recruiter heard the snarls and cries, and loped down the hall, to that classroom. His shout died on his lips and he watched agape as Angel effortlessy dodged the pitiful attacks of the tiring Jolene.
***********************************
Now Angel was tiring of the game, and decided to put her plan into action. She continued to dance around her sweating opponent, this time dragging her foot behind her in order to back away more than sidestep. Jolene took the bait and followed Angel like a snarling puppy, shouting curses and throwing round after round of ineffectual hits. Angel merely gave that cocky, knowing smile as she continued to lead Jolene around the room.
Then Angel slammed into one of the walls, her back firmly pressed against the painted cinderblocks. She adopted a look of terror, and seemed to freeze in place.
Believing her prey to be trapped, Jolene smiled evilly as she cocked her fist and threw a strong punch, wrapping all her might into it.
Angel saw the fist coming, and waited to the last second to twitch out of the way, ducking down and to the side, as Jolene's fist whistled past her head--
--and slammed full-strength into the wall. The girl's face contorted with pain, and she cradled the mangled hand in her other. Angel had danced away again, and was now standing as impassively as if the contest had never taken place.
"What'd you do that for, bitch?" screeched Heather as she rushed to Jolene's side and was hit with a striking slap by Jolene's good hand.
"Yeah, like it's my duty to stand there and let her cream me," Angel replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Then her arms finally moved, coming in front of her as she took a fighting stance. "You want some more? This time I'll fight back!"
Jolene muttered random obscenities as she hobbled out the door and to the office, her injured hand now bleeding and turning black around the knuckles. Probably broke it, Angel thought.
There was an impasse, as the girls all stared at each other. Then there was the sound of voices in the hall, and locker doors slamming. The kids were back from lunch. A trio of boys squeezed past the Army recruiter and filed into the classroom. Apparently this was their next-hour class, but then one boy's face grew wide.
"Christie!" The youth dropped his books and raced over to the terrified freshman. "Christie, are you okay?" Angel noted that the two bore a striking resemblance to each other, and correctly guessed that they were siblings.
The little blond girl, Christie, looked into her brother's eyes. "I'm fine, Jeff," she said shakily and tried to stand.
The youth, a bleach-blond, helped his sister to her feet. Then he turned to Angel, and stuck out his hand. "I'm Jeff Clay. Thanks for your help."
"I didn't do it for you," Angel replied brusquely, and ignored the hand. "I have no respect for people that can't take care of themselves."
A look of annoyance and confusion crossed his face. "Then why did you?"
She stared him deep in the eyes, her lavendar orbs fixed intently on his own, the same startling aquamarine color as his sister's. Then that stern mouth opened slightly. "Perhaps I hate bullies more than I hate weaklings." That said, she spun on her heel and quickly exited the room, headed for the office where she knew she would be summoned quite soon.
Jeff's jaw dropped, and he sputtered, trying to think of a reply to shoot at the disappearing back. Christie only whimpered and buried her face in her brother's chest.
Stern faces greeted Angel at the office, and she silently followed Iron Balls McGinty to the back rooms. Jolene was just leaving in an ambulance, her hand indeed broken. Angel took a seat in one of the chairs surrounding the bare folding table. Standing around the room were Principal McGinty, Officer Todd, and the Army recruiter, who had witnessed nearly the entire thing. Officer Todd, the school corrections officer, left to fetch Christie Clay. With her exceptional hearing, Angel had no trouble listening to the quiet but animated conversation between the Principal and the Army recruiter. He was reliving what he'd seen of the fight, repeatedly expressing awe at the way Angel had dodged the attacks. He'd never seen anything like it in his life.
Principal McGinty turned to the seated Angel. "You know I'm going to suspend you, right?"
Angel shook her head. "With all due respect, I think not. I mean, in all technicality, it wasn't a true fight."
"Beg pardon?"
"It wasn't a fight. Nor was it self defense." A tiny smile quirked the edges of Angel's hard mouth. "How can it be a fight if I didn't fight back? She never touched me, I never touched her, and she punched the wall of her own accord."
Principal McGinty could only stare, and Angel could practically see the gears turning slowly in her head. A woman in her late fifties, with blond-white hair worn grandma-style, and thick horn-rimmed glasses. She always wore pants, rumor having it that her ankles were bigger than her thighs. These were the same people that had claimed to find mouse bones in the mystery meat, but beggers couldn't be choosers in the information department.
Officer Todd returned with the two Clay siblings. Angel was surprised; normally only those directly involved in these little spats were brought back here. Then she realized that it was because Christie was about to dissolve, her mind still in shock after the attack. Jeff was along for emotional support, but Angel guessed that he'd been told to keep his mouth shut.
At an agonizingly slow pace, in Angel's opinion, Christie spilled out her story, and Angel's part in the whole thing. Jeff kept trying to catch Angel's eye, but she pointedly ignored him. He was still mystified as to her behavior, and his mind clamored for an explanation. She wasn't about to give him one, at least not now.
Principal McGinty desperately wanted to expel Angel, or at least suspend her. She was tired of late-night calls by parents demanding that Angel be punished for maiming their child, whereas Angel was always the victim. She was a bully magnet, and for some strange reason the bullies kept attacking even after injuries as severe as this one. This was the first time Angel had actually sought a fight, and even then she technically hadn't done anything wrong.
Angel smiled slightly as she registered the defeat in Principal McGinty's mind. She almost felt sorry for the poor woman. Almost.
There was another problem for the distraught woman. Angel was a walking harassment lawsuit just waiting to explode. She was being harassed all the time by bullies, but had yet to file any lawsuits. Part of that was that Angel enjoyed the exercise. Another was that if Angel sued, she'd name Principal McGinty as one of the defendants, and could drag it all over the town that the principal did nothing to "ease this poor child's pain" or some shit like that. Youths with physical deformities were always natural bully magnets, and the albino Angel was the meanest one yet. Therefore, she continually held it over the older woman's head that if she punished Angel, her own ass was on the line. A crude tactic, and one Angel didn't enjoy using, but it worked.
Angel didn't consider her albinism a deformity at all. In fact, she rather enjoyed her distinctive silver hair. People left her alone, and she was just fine with that. She wasn't much of a people person. The only person in the school that was even remotely her friend was Mr. Oehlschlaeger, the Japanese teacher. She was his student aide, and they would frequently hold fast-paced discussions in Angel's favorite language. Angel and Mr. O conversed on everything from bullies to politics to restaurants to TV shows. The only living adult besides Bryan and Jerry that she actually trusted.
With the stories of Jolene, Angel, Christie, and the Army guy all saying that Angel didn't even throw a punch, Principal McGinty reluctantly dismissed her charges and headed dejectedly to her office, wishing she were home with a nice movie and a tall glass of scotch. Angel didn't crack a smile as she stood tall and headed for the halls. They would be late for their third-hour classes, but Angel's third hour was Japanese, and Mr. O completely understood her bully problem.
She was digging through her locker for the Japanese book (why the hell did she need to study the textbook? She was not only his aide, she was practically a native speaker) when her mind registered another close being with intent toward her. She stood and turned, and saw Jeff heading toward her. Christie was nowhere to be seen.
"I want to know why you stuck up for my sister," Jeff said calmly, leaning against the lockers.
"I already told you why."
"But that can't be it! Nobody does stuff like that just because they feel like it," he protested.
She straightened and looked him in the eye. "Maybe I do. You got a problem with it?"
"No, no, it's fine," he said quickly, and raised his hands in peace. "I've just never met anybody that thinks like you do."
"Take a picture, it lasts longer," she snapped. Ignoring the hurt look on his face, she gathered her books and was walking away when she heard his voice again. She paused, without turning around.
"Hey, Angel. I know you don't like it, but... I just wanted to say thank you, anyway. I appreciate you standing up for my sister like that."
Angel stood for a moment longer, then resumed walking away without replying. A wave of frustration passed through his mind, to be replaced with intrigue. Curiosity. Not the 'hey, what are you?' curiosity she was used to. No, this one was different. He seemed genuinely interested in the way she thought.
Angel decided that she would tolerate the boy, because he definitely had intent to talk to her on future occasions.
Plus, he had a really nice smile.