Disclaimer: I really don't own X-men: Evolution, but maybe if I say that
enough times, Marvel will take pity on me and maybe make me a stockholder,
or something. I also don't own VW Beetles, SUV's, sedans, or even Hot Rod.
(That last one belongs to Hasbro and their Transformers franchise. But
that's a whole other fic.) I don't own The Club (copyrighted by some
insanely intelligent inventor), Vanna White (duh), Ray-Ban, the Three
Stooges, Batman, or Pop-Tarts. Oh, and Spam musubi actually exists! I've
had some, and it tastes oh so yummy!
And on a completely random note, I actually saw someone who looks exactly as I picture Lorna, minus the green eyes the other day. I figure it's someone up there saying "Get a move on!"
Here's to you, someone up there...
Lorna
I think I've found a little piece of heaven, right here, in this moment. Riding in a convertible with the top down, and my hair blowing crazily. I don't care; I've got a brush in my pocket. And I'm sitting in the backseat next to the guy I love. We can't do anything because his brother is driving the car, but this is enough. The crazy terrorist who is deluded enough to think that I'm his heir is temporarily off my back. And, to top it all off, I've got my forearm resting on the side of the car, with my hand cupped just enough to move up and down with the airflow. That's the greatest thing to do in a car. If I concentrate just a little bit, I can imagine we're going to the beach instead of school.
But, really, I can't concentrate too hard on the beach when Scott pulls into the school parking lot. After jockeying for a prime parking spot against the various Beetles, SUVs, sedans, and hot rods, both Scott and Jean hop out of the car without bothering to even open the door. It must be exhausting, trying to look cool like that...
Alex wrestles with the fold-down chair in front of him, and I finally give the metal frame inside a little nudge to help it decide to let us out. I'll risk using my powers in order to show up at school on time.
Scott and Jean are walking away from the car by now. That doesn't make sense. Better ask about this. "Hey, Jean?"
"Yes, Lorna?"
I pointed at the car. "Are you just going to leave the top down? You're not even going to put The Club© on the wheel?"
Both Scott and Jean turned to me as if I had just asked the stupidest question in the book. "Why would we do that?"
That car is just screaming "steal me", that's why! "Well, don't you have any anti-theft stuff?"
Scott shrugged. "I never thought about that. Jean, you could um...think something around it, couldn't you?"
I just know that girl's not dating him for his conversational skills... "Um, sure, Scott. I don't see why not." ~I don't see why, either,~ she thought to me. Wait, she's thinking TO me?! Something to block her! Flaming sheep!
For some reason, Jean looks at me like I'm crazy. Actually, I doubt that she's all that far off on that one. She starts to escape, and then turns back around. "Look, I've got to get to my locker before class starts. You sure I can't help you find your classes, Lorna?"
Like I'd want her to make me her little mini-me. Wait, she's not still reading my mind, is she? Flaming sheep attacking a village! "No. I'll be late to everything anyway. Don't want you late too."
She looks like I just took a big burden off of her shoulders. Well, that and that she thinks I'm completely off my rocker. I wonder how she would've taken it if I'd taken her up on the offer. I'll never know, because she just takes off like a bat out of hell after I say my piece.
Scott's about to take off, too, when he turns around and says to Alex and me, "You know, you're going to be labeled the minute you walk onto campus. You know, like Jean and I are labeled as, um..."
"Jocks?"
"Preppies?"
"Valedictorian?"
Scott scowls a little, but nods. "Yeah, that's exactly right. But I just want to warn you both that BHS students are a bit more stereotyping than any other high school that I've been to."
Alex asks, "So, what about Lorna and me? What'd we be labeled as?"
I speak up before Scott can talk. "Alex, you could be labeled as only one thing! Surfer!"
He smiles at me and asked, "Really? That's a label? It isn't in Oahu." I smile back, but I don't say anything. I figure that doesn't really merit a response.
"And what about me?" So they can judge me to my fullest, I stand in a Vanna White pose: both arms straight out, making a sort of diagonal, with one up, and one down.
Scott studies me, and comes up with, "Well, since your hair is not really considered to be natural color... How about punk?"
Pfft! Young grasshopper not know so much. "Come ON, Mister Ray-Ban! Note the trombone named after a Stooge? Note the classic Batman TV show t- shirt! I am no punk." I smile my best scary-smile. "I am a psychopath."
Now, I don't really mean that, I just hate being labeled as much as the next insane person does. 'Specially if they're wrong labels.
A little guy bounces up and stops dead short of the three of us. He looked too young to really know Scott all too well. "Hi, I'm Lurve! I'm a mutant! Wanna know what my power is?"
Alex put his hand on my shoulder, just in case Lurve's power is dangerous I guess. I dunno. He seems too cute to have a really dangerous power.
Scott mutters, "Don't ask. Just walk away..."
Of course, now that he's said that, I just have to say, "What is your mutant power?"
"I lurve you!" and Lurve bounces away. Just like that. I'm so confused...
"Who was that?"
"Your fellow local psychopath."
The rest of the day zooms by faster than I can keep up. This is so stupid. Magneto just had to pick the last quarter of school to attack, didn't he? All of my teachers hate the fact that I haven't done any of their assignments, and I don't know how I'm going to catch up. Thankfully, the professor managed to convince all of them to start me off today with the grade that I had had in each class back in Oregon. So at least I start with an A or a B in each class. Hopefully I'll keep 'em above C for the final month of school.
Well, I'll manage. Maybe Alex and I could help each other. Or I could get some of the other juniors to help me. A lot.
During lunch, I had the hardest time finding a place to sit. I mean, it was hard enough back home, but all of us band geeks basically just sat together. Here, though, I noticed something weird. There were the usual class breakdowns, and my usual type of group was at their little corner of the quad. But there was a group of all types over in this one other corner, which no one would really see if they didn't look for it. All the Xavier kids were there, with the exception of Rogue, who sat a couple of tables over with another Goth girl. All those people with different styles... It's probably pretty obvious to everyone else that there has to be *something* they had in common. I'm about to go sit with the band when I see Alex head towards his brother at the X-men table.
What the hell. I head to the X-men table, too, branding myself a mutant. As I sit down, everyone acknowledges me with a wave.
Alex waves, and says, "So, Robin, decided to join us in our quest for the Riddler?"
I decide to play along. What could it hurt? "Holy mermaids, Batman! Could you have already figured out what his riddles mean?"
Out of the corner of my eye, I see all of the others at the table inch their trays of food about two inches away from ours. A few of the younger ones were looking at us like we'd just quoted an ancient dialogue or something. Well, you can't say that these kids have great taste...
I start to dig into my food, but I just know there's something missing. I rummage around in my backpack and pull out a silver pre-packaged set of Pop- Tarts. I open it up, and pull out two tasty toaster pastries. "You want one? It's cherry."
Alex shakes his head and pushes it away. "No way. That sounds almost healthy! Remember what I brought when we were surfing?"
I thought back. "Actually, I was too busy being kidnapped by a terrorist with a God complex to see what flavor Pop-Tart I was eating..."
"Brown sugar and cinnamon." Well, that answers everything. Why didn't I realize that before? The others at the table have all stopped talking together, and stared at us like we were going to jump up on the table and start dancing.
Give me credit here. I'm really not that crazy.
(A/N: Okay, I know... Jab at Nightcrawler... But hey, it's comedy. Sort of.)
I continue the...discussion...with Alex, saying, "But if you eat something that's almost healthy, you won't run out of energy ten minutes into your day."
"Ah, but if I eat something almost healthy, I'd be going against my own morals. It's either healthy or not. Well... except for Spam musubi... that stuff tastes good, and I can't tell what its health factor is..."
"What's... Spam musubi?" Ray looked like he really was afraid to find out, but had to for the good of the team.
"You know what sushi is? Fish and rice wrapped in seaweed?" At the collective nods we all made, he went on. "It's cooked Spam sushi. It's really good."
There were definite mixed reactions to that. Kitty exclaimed, "Eeeeuww! Like, how could you ruin perfectly good sushi like that?"
Sam, however, said somewhat quietly, "Why do that to perfectly good Spam?"
Everyone else just seemed to hate both foods indiscriminately.
After a bit of discussion that basically consisted of everyone complaining about Spam, then just food we don't like in general, the bell rang for classes to start again.
The worst is over; I've only got a little more to go.
If I keep telling myself that, I might just believe it.
I trudge through the rest of the day, skulking in the back of classrooms and being piled with homework and glares. At least the Professor had taken special pains to get me into most of my classes with someone else from the institute. I ended up in the same classes as Kurt and Rogue more often than anyone else. Kitty and I talked a bit, but really... the teachers seemed bent on keeping a sharp eye on me no matter where I was.
After all our classes were over, I caught up with Jean and we made our way to Scott's convertible. Miraculously, it was still there. And it wasn't even keyed. What type of insurance does that boy have?
Alex arrives, on Scott's heels, and Scott and Jean greet each other. Enthusiastically. While Alex and I awkwardly averted our gazes. After they were done, we head back to the institute. Just going back to the place is making me feel sort of safer. But still, I've got so much work to do now, and a bunch of projects that'll be due. I'm going to be snowed for a long time... Especially with a psychopath on my trail.
After Scott pulls up into the driveway, we all pile out of the car and head to our respective destinations. Alex and I both unload our backpacks in the middle of the kitchen table and sit down to piles of assignments. Kurt shows up a little while later and offers some help. We immediately recruit him and his mad math skills, and Kitty helps me with my Physics lab write- up. But even after all that help, I still have a pile of homework.
I tackle it for a while, but finally the whole thing is just too much. Not only am I stuck with mountains of work that seem to be endless, I'm in a new place, with people doing who-knows-what all around me, and I'm staying only because some guy with a God complex is trying to make me his newest disciple, and on top of all this, I have to worry about my grades?
My head falls forward onto the tabletop. I don't like the way my forehead hurts after it hits the wooden tabletop, so of course, I continue to hit my head against the surface. Welcome to the life of the soon-to-be flat- headed Lorna Dane. How spectacular it is.
I turn my head slightly when Alex clears his throat. "What is it?" BANG!
"I just wanted to say..." BANG!
"What?" BANG!
He taps me on the shoulder. "Tag! You're it!" He bolts off, laughing all the way. What the-?
I take off after him. I can't just let him get away with tagging me! He must be tagged back! As I'm running, I skid into random people, hitting random mutants wandering down the hallway. Oops. Well... I'll apologize later.
I let out a little gaspy laugh, and sprint directly between the gap that Jean and Scott leave. I only make two exceptions when I'm running. I avoid collisions with Rogue and Jamie as much as possible. No need to make this difficult for me.
I manage to keep Alex in my line of sight for this entire chase, and see him duck into one of the doors in the hallway. I skid to a stop, and slowly pry open that door. There he is, hiding in a broom closet. Ah well. I tiptoe in, and kiss him on the cheek. "Tag!"
Alex chuckles. "Feeling better?"
"Let me see... I'm sitting in a small, dark room with you, and have to practically sit on top of you in order to fit. Yes. I'm doing much better."
"Good." He places his hand on my cheek and turns my face to his. "You're going to be fine." Then, he kisses me. A real kiss. On the lips.
I'm not going to say how it felt... that's too private. But let's just say, if I thought I found heaven in the convertible this morning, I had only had a glimpse. This time was like there were angels singing "HALLELUJAH!" all around our heads.
The room suddenly lightens. "Oh! Um... I'll... uh... get a broom from somewhere else..."
"Mah gawd! Get a different room!" The room darkens again. Yeah, it's bad here... but not too bad.
And on a completely random note, I actually saw someone who looks exactly as I picture Lorna, minus the green eyes the other day. I figure it's someone up there saying "Get a move on!"
Here's to you, someone up there...
Lorna
I think I've found a little piece of heaven, right here, in this moment. Riding in a convertible with the top down, and my hair blowing crazily. I don't care; I've got a brush in my pocket. And I'm sitting in the backseat next to the guy I love. We can't do anything because his brother is driving the car, but this is enough. The crazy terrorist who is deluded enough to think that I'm his heir is temporarily off my back. And, to top it all off, I've got my forearm resting on the side of the car, with my hand cupped just enough to move up and down with the airflow. That's the greatest thing to do in a car. If I concentrate just a little bit, I can imagine we're going to the beach instead of school.
But, really, I can't concentrate too hard on the beach when Scott pulls into the school parking lot. After jockeying for a prime parking spot against the various Beetles, SUVs, sedans, and hot rods, both Scott and Jean hop out of the car without bothering to even open the door. It must be exhausting, trying to look cool like that...
Alex wrestles with the fold-down chair in front of him, and I finally give the metal frame inside a little nudge to help it decide to let us out. I'll risk using my powers in order to show up at school on time.
Scott and Jean are walking away from the car by now. That doesn't make sense. Better ask about this. "Hey, Jean?"
"Yes, Lorna?"
I pointed at the car. "Are you just going to leave the top down? You're not even going to put The Club© on the wheel?"
Both Scott and Jean turned to me as if I had just asked the stupidest question in the book. "Why would we do that?"
That car is just screaming "steal me", that's why! "Well, don't you have any anti-theft stuff?"
Scott shrugged. "I never thought about that. Jean, you could um...think something around it, couldn't you?"
I just know that girl's not dating him for his conversational skills... "Um, sure, Scott. I don't see why not." ~I don't see why, either,~ she thought to me. Wait, she's thinking TO me?! Something to block her! Flaming sheep!
For some reason, Jean looks at me like I'm crazy. Actually, I doubt that she's all that far off on that one. She starts to escape, and then turns back around. "Look, I've got to get to my locker before class starts. You sure I can't help you find your classes, Lorna?"
Like I'd want her to make me her little mini-me. Wait, she's not still reading my mind, is she? Flaming sheep attacking a village! "No. I'll be late to everything anyway. Don't want you late too."
She looks like I just took a big burden off of her shoulders. Well, that and that she thinks I'm completely off my rocker. I wonder how she would've taken it if I'd taken her up on the offer. I'll never know, because she just takes off like a bat out of hell after I say my piece.
Scott's about to take off, too, when he turns around and says to Alex and me, "You know, you're going to be labeled the minute you walk onto campus. You know, like Jean and I are labeled as, um..."
"Jocks?"
"Preppies?"
"Valedictorian?"
Scott scowls a little, but nods. "Yeah, that's exactly right. But I just want to warn you both that BHS students are a bit more stereotyping than any other high school that I've been to."
Alex asks, "So, what about Lorna and me? What'd we be labeled as?"
I speak up before Scott can talk. "Alex, you could be labeled as only one thing! Surfer!"
He smiles at me and asked, "Really? That's a label? It isn't in Oahu." I smile back, but I don't say anything. I figure that doesn't really merit a response.
"And what about me?" So they can judge me to my fullest, I stand in a Vanna White pose: both arms straight out, making a sort of diagonal, with one up, and one down.
Scott studies me, and comes up with, "Well, since your hair is not really considered to be natural color... How about punk?"
Pfft! Young grasshopper not know so much. "Come ON, Mister Ray-Ban! Note the trombone named after a Stooge? Note the classic Batman TV show t- shirt! I am no punk." I smile my best scary-smile. "I am a psychopath."
Now, I don't really mean that, I just hate being labeled as much as the next insane person does. 'Specially if they're wrong labels.
A little guy bounces up and stops dead short of the three of us. He looked too young to really know Scott all too well. "Hi, I'm Lurve! I'm a mutant! Wanna know what my power is?"
Alex put his hand on my shoulder, just in case Lurve's power is dangerous I guess. I dunno. He seems too cute to have a really dangerous power.
Scott mutters, "Don't ask. Just walk away..."
Of course, now that he's said that, I just have to say, "What is your mutant power?"
"I lurve you!" and Lurve bounces away. Just like that. I'm so confused...
"Who was that?"
"Your fellow local psychopath."
The rest of the day zooms by faster than I can keep up. This is so stupid. Magneto just had to pick the last quarter of school to attack, didn't he? All of my teachers hate the fact that I haven't done any of their assignments, and I don't know how I'm going to catch up. Thankfully, the professor managed to convince all of them to start me off today with the grade that I had had in each class back in Oregon. So at least I start with an A or a B in each class. Hopefully I'll keep 'em above C for the final month of school.
Well, I'll manage. Maybe Alex and I could help each other. Or I could get some of the other juniors to help me. A lot.
During lunch, I had the hardest time finding a place to sit. I mean, it was hard enough back home, but all of us band geeks basically just sat together. Here, though, I noticed something weird. There were the usual class breakdowns, and my usual type of group was at their little corner of the quad. But there was a group of all types over in this one other corner, which no one would really see if they didn't look for it. All the Xavier kids were there, with the exception of Rogue, who sat a couple of tables over with another Goth girl. All those people with different styles... It's probably pretty obvious to everyone else that there has to be *something* they had in common. I'm about to go sit with the band when I see Alex head towards his brother at the X-men table.
What the hell. I head to the X-men table, too, branding myself a mutant. As I sit down, everyone acknowledges me with a wave.
Alex waves, and says, "So, Robin, decided to join us in our quest for the Riddler?"
I decide to play along. What could it hurt? "Holy mermaids, Batman! Could you have already figured out what his riddles mean?"
Out of the corner of my eye, I see all of the others at the table inch their trays of food about two inches away from ours. A few of the younger ones were looking at us like we'd just quoted an ancient dialogue or something. Well, you can't say that these kids have great taste...
I start to dig into my food, but I just know there's something missing. I rummage around in my backpack and pull out a silver pre-packaged set of Pop- Tarts. I open it up, and pull out two tasty toaster pastries. "You want one? It's cherry."
Alex shakes his head and pushes it away. "No way. That sounds almost healthy! Remember what I brought when we were surfing?"
I thought back. "Actually, I was too busy being kidnapped by a terrorist with a God complex to see what flavor Pop-Tart I was eating..."
"Brown sugar and cinnamon." Well, that answers everything. Why didn't I realize that before? The others at the table have all stopped talking together, and stared at us like we were going to jump up on the table and start dancing.
Give me credit here. I'm really not that crazy.
(A/N: Okay, I know... Jab at Nightcrawler... But hey, it's comedy. Sort of.)
I continue the...discussion...with Alex, saying, "But if you eat something that's almost healthy, you won't run out of energy ten minutes into your day."
"Ah, but if I eat something almost healthy, I'd be going against my own morals. It's either healthy or not. Well... except for Spam musubi... that stuff tastes good, and I can't tell what its health factor is..."
"What's... Spam musubi?" Ray looked like he really was afraid to find out, but had to for the good of the team.
"You know what sushi is? Fish and rice wrapped in seaweed?" At the collective nods we all made, he went on. "It's cooked Spam sushi. It's really good."
There were definite mixed reactions to that. Kitty exclaimed, "Eeeeuww! Like, how could you ruin perfectly good sushi like that?"
Sam, however, said somewhat quietly, "Why do that to perfectly good Spam?"
Everyone else just seemed to hate both foods indiscriminately.
After a bit of discussion that basically consisted of everyone complaining about Spam, then just food we don't like in general, the bell rang for classes to start again.
The worst is over; I've only got a little more to go.
If I keep telling myself that, I might just believe it.
I trudge through the rest of the day, skulking in the back of classrooms and being piled with homework and glares. At least the Professor had taken special pains to get me into most of my classes with someone else from the institute. I ended up in the same classes as Kurt and Rogue more often than anyone else. Kitty and I talked a bit, but really... the teachers seemed bent on keeping a sharp eye on me no matter where I was.
After all our classes were over, I caught up with Jean and we made our way to Scott's convertible. Miraculously, it was still there. And it wasn't even keyed. What type of insurance does that boy have?
Alex arrives, on Scott's heels, and Scott and Jean greet each other. Enthusiastically. While Alex and I awkwardly averted our gazes. After they were done, we head back to the institute. Just going back to the place is making me feel sort of safer. But still, I've got so much work to do now, and a bunch of projects that'll be due. I'm going to be snowed for a long time... Especially with a psychopath on my trail.
After Scott pulls up into the driveway, we all pile out of the car and head to our respective destinations. Alex and I both unload our backpacks in the middle of the kitchen table and sit down to piles of assignments. Kurt shows up a little while later and offers some help. We immediately recruit him and his mad math skills, and Kitty helps me with my Physics lab write- up. But even after all that help, I still have a pile of homework.
I tackle it for a while, but finally the whole thing is just too much. Not only am I stuck with mountains of work that seem to be endless, I'm in a new place, with people doing who-knows-what all around me, and I'm staying only because some guy with a God complex is trying to make me his newest disciple, and on top of all this, I have to worry about my grades?
My head falls forward onto the tabletop. I don't like the way my forehead hurts after it hits the wooden tabletop, so of course, I continue to hit my head against the surface. Welcome to the life of the soon-to-be flat- headed Lorna Dane. How spectacular it is.
I turn my head slightly when Alex clears his throat. "What is it?" BANG!
"I just wanted to say..." BANG!
"What?" BANG!
He taps me on the shoulder. "Tag! You're it!" He bolts off, laughing all the way. What the-?
I take off after him. I can't just let him get away with tagging me! He must be tagged back! As I'm running, I skid into random people, hitting random mutants wandering down the hallway. Oops. Well... I'll apologize later.
I let out a little gaspy laugh, and sprint directly between the gap that Jean and Scott leave. I only make two exceptions when I'm running. I avoid collisions with Rogue and Jamie as much as possible. No need to make this difficult for me.
I manage to keep Alex in my line of sight for this entire chase, and see him duck into one of the doors in the hallway. I skid to a stop, and slowly pry open that door. There he is, hiding in a broom closet. Ah well. I tiptoe in, and kiss him on the cheek. "Tag!"
Alex chuckles. "Feeling better?"
"Let me see... I'm sitting in a small, dark room with you, and have to practically sit on top of you in order to fit. Yes. I'm doing much better."
"Good." He places his hand on my cheek and turns my face to his. "You're going to be fine." Then, he kisses me. A real kiss. On the lips.
I'm not going to say how it felt... that's too private. But let's just say, if I thought I found heaven in the convertible this morning, I had only had a glimpse. This time was like there were angels singing "HALLELUJAH!" all around our heads.
The room suddenly lightens. "Oh! Um... I'll... uh... get a broom from somewhere else..."
"Mah gawd! Get a different room!" The room darkens again. Yeah, it's bad here... but not too bad.