"TELL ME!"
"Willow! Calm down. You're getting hypersonic and it really isn't even a big deal."
"Yes it is! It's a big, huge, giant deal! Full of... of bigness! I couldn't even concentrate on my chemistry notes--"
"Wills, you wrote TWO pages. Front and back!"
Admittedly, that's not a lot for her. My notes, on the other hand, usually consist of my name and the date, plus some very educational stick people in the margins. Sometimes I branch off into hangman games, but I usually reserve those for algebra...
"That-- that's not the point. The point is that you met a guy and--"
"Whoa! What... Buffy met a guy? When? Why-- why would you do that?" Xander has a way of suddenly appearing and interrupting girl talk. And he's making a weird face. It's not THAT far-fetched that I might actually meet someone, is it?
"Yeah! Isn't that great?" Willow answered.
"Sure. Great. Now, Buff, when you say 'guy'... you mean big, brotherly, and old, right?"
"First of all, WHAT are you talking about? Second, Willow, you're seriously blowing this out of proportion. And please don't say anything weird when he shows up, okay?"
"Shows up? You mean he goes here?" Willow asked excitedly.
"Yep. Today is his first day. I told him to meet me here after his first period so I could show him where the gym is. He's in our class."
"Today's his first day?" Xander asked. "So, where was he getting his schooling before now? Prison, right? Or maybe he just had to take time off to be with his eleven illegitimate children and--"
"Angel!" Being short can be an extreme pain when you're frantically trying to wave someone down in a crowded hallway. I try to tone down the jumping and flailing when I notice several people looking at me as if I'm having some sort of seizure. "Over here!"
Angel saw me and is now picking his way through the crowds and over towards the three of us. And my oh my, I love the way he walks. It's almost more of a... lope.
And I've always been a fan of a good lope.
"Hey Buffy."
"Hi! How was your first class?"
"Good. Miss Swenson seemed very nice."
Oh DID she? Could that possibly be because Miss Swenson is a big giant HO?
...
Oh, wait... isn't she sixty-five? Gah.
"That's nice," I said. Willow cleared her throat loudly and then waggled her eyebrows at me in a completely unsubtle manner. "Oh, right! Angel, I want you to meet my best buds Willow and Xander. Guys, this is Angel."
"Hi! N-nice to meet you!" Willow greeted cheerfully. "You've got an accent! But-- but not in a bad way. In more of a 'Top O' the Mornin' to Ya!' kinda way. And I'm shutting up now."
Angel smiled patiently and shook her hand. "Pleased to meet you."
He's just so very polite. You could bring him home to Mom without ever worrying about him, like, picking his nose at dinner... or stealing your silverware... or scratching himself with your expensive salad tongs...
"So, Angel..." Xander interrupted my inner musings. "If that's your REAL name, of course. How long have you been on parole?"
"Xander!" He did NOT just ask that!
He at least managed to look sheepish. "What? I'm just making conversation..."
I rolled my eyes at him before smiling up at Angel. "Angel is from Ireland. He's staying at my house for the cultural exchange program."
Willow and Xander's mouths dropped open in shock.
"But he's got boy parts!" Xander blurted. "And... and... he's not so much a girl. Weren't you supposed to have a girl? We should take him back."
"He's not a SWEATER, Xander," I mutter. What is WITH him today?
"Hey, I'm just saying I bet they'll exchange him for you... 'cause, you know, it IS an exchange program."
Willow shot him a look. "We just thought you were going to be a girl. But here you are in a boy way! And that's nice, too."
"I think my name being 'Angel' confused some people at the program office," Angel explained. "I checked the box that said 'Male' under 'Sex', I swear."
And I'd like to check the box that says 'male' under YOUR sex, too.
... and I'm a horrible, horrible pervert!
When I lived in LA, there was a subway station that I used to get to the mall on weekends. Sometimes there was this weird guy there who used to carry around these two ferrets.
He also had major B.O., but that isn't really part of the story.
Anyway, Ferret Guy used to slither up to girls in the subway terminal and say, "I'm diiiiiirrrrtty!" and then leer at them before security dragged him away.
The moral of the story?
If this keeps up, in ten years I'm going to BE that guy.
But I've decided against having ferrets. And also B.O. Just because you're a subway perv doesn't mean you can't maintain certain standards of hygiene...
"Summers. I should have known you'd be loitering in the halls instead of actually migrating with the rest of the mindless herd towards your next class. After all, it's quite clear that simple instruction is well beyond your realm of comprehension." Principal Snyder had apparently snuck up behind me while I was busy feeling like a lecherous old maid. I could feel him pinning the back of my head with his patented 'Glare of Doom'.
I wish he'd slither back under his rock and die.
"We were just going," I mumble before grabbing Angel's arm and tugging him along behind me. I try to restrain myself from groping his bicep.
Wills and Xander trudge along after us, and once we were out of earshot, I heard Xander shout back, "I love your hair, Snyder! All six of them!"
I was very amused.
"So you're one of the exchange students, huh? You look like you're in pretty
good shape! Nice to have you in my class!" Coach Foster punctuated her
greeting by slapping Angel in the ribs. Three times. He tried to smile politely,
but kept glancing at me as if I could explain her behavior. I just shrugged.
"It's good to see you've got some meat on you!"
You know what else would be good to see on Angel? Delicious chocolate sauce.
"Angel doesn't have his gym uniform yet," Willow reminded her.
"We'll just have to get him one, now won't we!" Coach replied. She blew into the stainless steel whistle she had hanging around her neck and made a sound come out of it that probably killed many nearby dogs. "Rodney Munson, get your skinny ass over here!"
Willow and Xander both grimaced, and I wondered what was up. "Who's Rodney Munson?" I whispered.
"He's... a boy," Willow supplied.
"Oh really? I thought that had never been proven," Xander muttered.
Angel and I gave the two of them an odd look, and Willow adjusted her backpack nervously. "He's kind of..."
"Dumb?" Xander finished.
Willow looked alarmed. "No! No. It's not that he's dumb, it's just that... he's... slower... than some people."
"But smarter than most monkeys!" Xander added sarcastically.
Willow nodded. "Yeah! J-Just not the ones that know, like, sign language. Because those monkeys are REALLY smart."
This didn't sound good. "Is he really that bad?"
"Just don't make any sudden moves," Willow instructed.
Xander snorted and shook his head. "Yeah. He might confuse you for a savory turkey and start gnawing on your arms and legs."
I don't THINK so! If anyone's gonna be nibbling on Angel, it's going to be ME.
Rodney slunk up to Coach Foster and hunched his shoulders. She slapped him on the back and he staggered forward a few feet and made a strangled whimpering sound. "Nice of you to join us, Rodney!" she said, before turning towards us. "We're playing softball today, and we're not supposed to let Mr. Munson here anywhere near the aluminum bats. So since he has to sit out anyway, I think it would be a great idea for him to show Angel around the boys' locker room and help him pick up his gym clothes!"
Willow looked vaguely ill, but Xander suddenly had a strange smile on his face.
I wasn't liking this idea at all.
Rodney made a non-committal grunt, and Coach Foster grinned at him. "'Atta boy! You two gentlemen get to it, then. The rest of you, hit the lockers and get dressed. I expect you out on the field in ten minutes!"
I tried to catch Angel's eye to offer him an encouraging smile, but he was too busy watching in sick fascination as Rodney began to chew at a scab on his hand.
Willow tugged at my sleeve, and I reluctantly started towards the girls' locker room.
But let me tell
you something... if Rodney even THINKS about touching Angel, he's going
to be nibbling on a LOT bigger scab.
"This whole student exchange thing has been a horrible nightmare."
Gym lockers are (unfortunately) given out alphabetically according to first name. Which means that mine is right between Aphrodesia Vargas, Aura Glidden, and Cordelia Chase. The three of them were lumped together and having what might be called a 'conversation', but was probably more similar to a scene from 'Valley Girls'.
"Excuse me," I mutter, trying to squeeze between them to put my bag down. I kept my eyes glued to the floor in hope that this would prevent them from trying to include me in their little chat.
Of course, life can never be that kind.
"Oh. It's Buffy," Aura drawled, before clicking her tongue at me. "Nice outfit."
I glanced down at my blue sleeveless tank and black embroidered skirt self-consciously. And okay, so maybe it WASN'T straight out of the Versace spring catalogue, but it's not like I was wearing castoffs from the CK 'Destitute Bag-Lady' collection.
"I love those shoes you're wearing, Buffy," Cordelia pitched in. "It's obvious you shop at only the finest garage sales."
"As opposed to you, who shops exclusively at Abercrombie and Bitch." Nobody insults my favorite Chinese Laundry heels!
She narrowed her eyes at me, but I just smiled and started changing. "Hmph. Before you so rudely interrupted, we were TRYING to have a conversation."
"Don't let me stop you," I mutter, before carefully tugging off my beloved shoes and setting them inside my locker. Poor babies. Did the mean, scary lady hurt your feelings?
"Oh trust me, I won't," she remarked, before turning back to her friends. "So like I was saying, the exchange program is a total nightmare. They don't even speak American!"
I try to stifle my grin. Just because I ended up with Lord Luscious the Savory Irish Bon-Bon doesn't mean I have the right to enjoy the misfortune of others. Even if they HAVE been rubbing their 'Swedish Boy Wonder' in your face for the past two days.
Now, hopefully Rodney Munson has been keeping his teeth to himself. Because if I see just ONE bite mark on Angel's perfect skin, there won't be a protective cup on this EARTH big enough to save his groin from my size five heels...
