Summary: Luke and Grace's worlds collide…literally.
Spoilers: None really. This is purely pre-season one speculation. Though I suppose there may be some minor spoilers for things to come, but nothing you would know were spoilers unless you saw the episode.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, especially Joan of Arcadia or the actors. I own a 6 pack of ramen at the moment. That's it.
A/N: Okay…I know I have another story, and contrary to popular belief, I am working on it. This just happened to come to me first, thanks to the proddi…I mean encouragement of Diminished 9th. Diminished was also beta #1. Payton was beta #2. So thanks to the both of them for that.
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Force of Collision Luke
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The warm rays of the sun came pouring through the window, even though he'd made sure to close both the curtains and blinds. Who knew the sun would rise this early in Maryland? Of course, it wasn't really early, unless you were one of those people, much like his sister, who considered nine in the morning to be early. Luke Girardi slowly pulled himself out of bed, knowing he'd never be able to get back to sleep with the sun violating the vicinity of his room. It wasn't as if he had anything to do, since he'd finally finished unpacking and situating all of his things the day before. The job was completed none to soon for the young scientist, considering his family had already been in Arcadia for three months, and he was set to start school the following week.
Throughout the summer, he'd taken his time unloading his belongings, making sure everything was in just the right place, setting up whatever experiments he was able to bring along on the move without disrupting, though he still had plenty he'd been forced to abandon. For him, that was the most aggravating part of the move, unlike his sister, who was more angry about having to start a whole new social life. He'd put a lot of time into many of those experiments he was forced to leave behind. Restarting them was going to be a lot more difficult than his sister making a few friends.
He would have been perfectly happy keeping himself locked away in what he called his "lab" for the rest of the week, except his mother had been bothering him for the last three weeks or so about needing to get outside and get some air, get himself familiarized with the town. So he decided to appease her and spend a day at the park collecting plant samples. His mother had convinced him getting out of the house would be good for him, before he had to be stuck in a school five days a week. He didn't really consider it "being stuck." He was one of those rare teenagers that considered school to be his sanctuary. It was the one place he could free himself from his family, especially now, after his older brother's paralyzing accident had made the tension rise. He'd always been the center of attention, the jock, the kid that never had to do anything around the house unless their father got into a mood and decided he needed to "act like a man." Of course, then he'd have some stellar performance at some game for some team he was on and he'd be the hero again. It took Luke forever to admit to himself that he may have actually been happy when he heard his brother would have to spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair, though he wasn't sure why. He'd have been fooling himself if he thought that it meant he wouldbe receiving more attention. He was always invisible to the people in that house. He didn't really complain, he'd always wanted to be invisible when he was a kid reading comic books. But there was something different about dreaming of a superpower and actually being invisible. He figured it was a completely different feeling when actually being able to move about in the real world without being noticed. It wasn't natural, nor was it spectacular, but it was a gift he knew he possessed.
That was evident enough when he realized he had made it all the way to the front door before anyone noticed that he was even leaving, let alone he had his backpack with him. "Hey, dog boy," his sister called groggily from the staircase, "school doesn't start for another week."
"Right, which makes this the perfect time to go to the park and get some samples for this experiment with photosynthesis I was planning on…"
"Okay," she said, cutting him off once again. "Need food. Don't care." With that she headed for the kitchen. Luke rolled his eyes as he opened the door. He was on his way out when he heard footsteps approach from behind him.
"Luke?" his mother's voice called. "Where are you going this early?"
"To the park. See, I'm trying this new experiment with photosynthesis where you use artificial energy to…" He didn't have a chance to finish before his mother spoke again.
"Okay, just don't be out too late."
"Got it." With that, he was out the door without any further questioning. That always seemed to be the case whenever he started spouting out random scientific facts or discussing any of the projects he found himself working on. It was a surefire way to get out of any parental questioning. Well, it would have been, had he ever had a logical reason to avoid it. He was the good kid, after all.
He made it a few blocks away from the house before he realized that he wasn't exactly sure where he was going. He had ridden around town with his parents before, going to the store or out to eat or some such thing, but he'd never walked the streets and didn't even know if Arcadia even had a park, let alone where it was or how to get there. He decided it would be best to just walk a straight path. He remembered that was the way they always used to get to the main section of town. If there wasn't a park around there somewhere, there would certainly be people around he could ask for directions.
He had been walking for about ten minutes when he took notice of a house on the other side of the street. Not so much the house, but the front lawn which was filled with all sorts of intricate sculptures made of twisted metal, glass bottles, and all other sorts of random junk. He stood there studying the pieces, trying to see something in each one of them, but was only able to see sheets of metal and painted glass shards. He had never had a very good eye for art, despite the fact his mother was an artist. She was more focused on landscapes anyway. He wondered who had made them; if it was a hobby of whoever owned the house, or if they were just bad gifts given to them by annoying and strange relatives only on display because they had run out of space to hide them in the garage. He had turned to walk on when he heard a voice call out from behind him.
"Watch out!"
"Huh?" He turned back around to see where the voice was coming from, only to see a blur moving quickly towards him. Before he had time to react, he felt the impact of the speeding body followed by the sidewalk. It took him several seconds to collect himself and piece together what had just happened.
"I told you to watch out, dude!"
"Sorry," he said as he picked himself up off the ground. "Sorry. I wasn't…" he looked back down to the sidewalk to see a girl on the ground, looking extremely angry. "I guess I wasn't really paying attention." He'd always considered himself a gentleman, so he did the only thing he could think of at the time, completely unsure of how the girl would react. "Here," he offered her his hand, which she immediately smacked away.
"I don't need any help," she growled. She lifted herself off the ground and picked up the skateboard that was laying beside her.
"Sorry," he said again. "I was just trying to, uh, be nice. Are you okay?"
"Save it." She readjusted the messenger bag she had slung across her shoulder and brushed herself off. "You should've got out the way."
"Right, of course. Sorry." Apologizing seemed to be the only thing he could bring himself to do. He wasn't sure if it was because he truly was sorry for being in her way, or if it was just because he was afraid she would beat him up if he didn't show complete remorse. He figured it was the latter. While she was fairly small in size, everything else about her radiated with an air of a soldier hardened by years of vehement warfare. Her eyes alone should have been enough to scare him away. Cold, gray pools shrouded in anger and mystery, closed off to anything good the world might have for them to see. She carried herself with a bit of a slouch, weighed down by the load of scars from a life filled with confrontation, heavy with memories of vile things she'd seen. What they were, he had no idea, only that they were enough to make this girl who looked to be around his age appear with the same coarse coldness as the soldiers captured in photographs in a history text.
"Whatever, dude." She started to walk past him, but for some reason he found himself with the urge to at least try and get her name. He hadn't really made an active effort to get acquainted with anyone over the summer. The only people he knew were two girls in his neighborhood that his sister started hanging around with, and the three of them together provided conversation about as stimulating as watching paint dry. Besides, he figured from the look of her that she'd been in more than her fair share of scraps in her time, and having one of the tough kids on his side for once might not be such a bad idea.
"Uh, hey," he found himself moving in front of her to block her way. "Hi. Um…I'm new here." He mentally kicked himself for using such a cliché to introduce himself, though he still figured it as good a place as any to begin. He held out his hand once more. "I'm…"
"In my way." Again, she shoved his hand away, but this time with more force than when he'd tried to help her up.
"Right, sorry. Again." He let out a small, nervous laugh, but against his better judgment, he didn't move.
"Move it, string bean!" she snapped, shoving him to the side. He shook his head in disbelief as she started to cross the street. He followed closely behind, with no idea why he felt the need to follow her, let alone explain himself. She was rude, contemptible, and obviously completely unconcerned with becoming his friend, but a strange curiosity pulled him toward her, like an oppositely charged magnetic pole.
"Hey, I was just trying to be nice."
"I don't do nice," she picked up her pace, keeping her eyes straight forward.
"I couldn't tell." He continued walking behind her until they reached the other side of the street. She stopped and turned around, looking at him with a glare so cold it could freeze molten lava. He took a small step back, almost certain his plan to avoid getting beat up had fallen through. "Um…is…" he swallowed in an attempt to hide his nervousness. He had known her type before; they could smell fear. "Is this your house?" He indicated the house behind her, with all of the strange and abstract pieces of art that had him so intrigued only minutes before.
"Why? You planning to stalk me?"
"What? No…uh, no. I was just…" He let out a sigh, finding it increasingly difficult to try being friendly to this girl. He still wasn't even sure why he continued to try, but for some reason, he found himself unwilling to back down. "I was just curious."
"That can be hazardous to your health."
"I'm willing to take the risk." Her glare hadn't changed. In fact, he believed it became even colder with every word that escaped his mouth. Talking to this girl certainly wasn't the most intelligent partaking he'd ever had. Still, he refused to let himself turn away. He didn't know what it was that was causing him to risk having every bone in his body broken. All he knew was that despite all his mind was telling him, he wasn't backing down.
The girl folded her arms and narrowed her eyes even more, something he didn't think possible. "You really are a extraordinary moron." Luke was taken aback. No one had ever called him a moron. "Back off, four eyes, or I will rip those glasses off your face and cram them in your…"
"Hey, Grace!" The girl turned to look in the direction the voice came from. Luke looked over to see a boy emerging from around the side of the house. He was dressed much in the same manner as the girl; layers of baggy, worn clothes that had to be too much in the eighty degree weather. Thinking about it, he decided they reminded him of the stoners from his old school that always hung around behind the gym and had a tendency to threaten him on a daily basis. "Who's that?" the boy asked without coming much closer to them.
"No one," she called back. Luke was about to reply when the girl turned back to him. "Consider yourself lucky this time, freak." With that, she walked down to meet the boy standing in the lawn.
Luke watched as they greeted each other with a nod. The girl then opened the bag she was carrying as the boy leaned in closer to examine it's contents. An approving and excited smile came over his face as the two of them headed around the corner of the house and vanished from Luke's sight. He had no way of knowing what was in the bag that made the boy so happy, but he had a few guesses, none of which were legal. He shook his head as he finally continued walking down the road, thoughts of his encounter dashing through his mind. He had done nothing but attempt to be nice to this girl and she had done nothing short of threatening him with bodily harm. He made sure to make a mental note to keep as far away from her as he possibly could.
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The following week passed rather slowly for Luke as he constantly found himself wanting time to skip ahead a few days and make it Monday. Once that day finally came, Luke found himself awake and ready to leave by seven. Despite the fact that he didn't need to be at school until eight, he found himself rushing out the front door by 7:15. His first class was advance placement chemistry, and he knew there was no way he would let himself be late for that class. Science was his forte, what he did, who he was. It was the basis of the logical rationalization he used to describe the irrational things that had been happening in his life lately. It was the one thing he could count on to never let him down.
Once he finally found his way to the school, it was around 7:45. He pulled his schedule out of his pocket to double check the room number before walking through the front door. The interior of the school was much like that of his former school. It appeared to be a little larger, though it didn't take him very long to find his destination. He entered the room to find place cards with students' names on each of the lab tables. He glanced at each of the cards until he found his own at the end of a table in the second row. His two seatmates were already there and discussing all of the things they hoped to learn over the following nine months. He placed his backpack on the table and took a seat next to a curly haired boy who, for some reason, was wearing a turtleneck with a short sleeved polo. Beside him was a girl with long blonde hair and glasses.
Luke thought about introducing himself, but the two were so deep into discussion they were barely able to manage small introductory nods as he sat down. Instead he took a composition book and pencil out of his bag and dated the first page of the book for any notes he would be taking and then began to study the contents of the room. It was definitely a science lab. There were posters of the periodic table all over the place. Each of the tables had its own Bunsen burner, scales, and several other small pieces of equipment used for lab work. A plastic skeleton hung by a pole next to the door, and across from that was a hollow model of the human body with plastic replicas of the major organs. As he contemplated the reasons why models such as these were necessary for a chemistry class, he noticed a familiar, spaced out face walk through the door. He recognized him as the boy from his…less than enjoyable experience the week before.
"Hey," came the voice of the boy beside him. "What's space man doing in here?" he asked, gesturing to the familiar boy who was then taking a seat at the table behind them.
"Excuse me?" Luke asked, with a hint of confusion.
"Space man? Stoner boy?" Luke raised an eyebrow. "Adam Rove, the kid sitting behind you."
"Uh, I don't…know who that is."
"You must be new," the boy reasoned. Luke nodded. "Well then, allow me to introduce myself. I am The Friedman."
"The…what?"
"Friedman, dude. Just call me Friedman." He then leaned back allowing Luke to get a better view of the girl beside him. "And this is Glynis."
"Hey," the girl replied shyly.
"Hi," Luke replied, as the bell rang. He looked up just in time to see the teacher walk in and close the door behind her.
"Good morning everyone!" she chimed in cheerfully. "Welcome to AP Chemistry. I'm Ms. Lischak, your instructor." She sat down at the desk and pulled a sheet of paper out of the blue folder she was carrying with her. "Now, before we jump in, let me just make sure everyone is here." She took out a pencil and began to read silently through a list of names, glancing up on occasion to make sure each student was present and in their respective seats. Luke noticed her pause once she reached one of the names. She looked straight to the table behind him, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Adam," she said firmly, catching the attention of the boy seated there. "Where is Miss Polk?"
Luke glanced behind him to see the boy shrug as he hesitated to answer. "Cha," he said after a few seconds, "haven't seen her."
"Mm hmm," the teacher murmured with disbelief before returning to roll call. Out of the corner of his eye, Luke noticed the two student beside him exchange amused glances.
"You're kidding me," the boy laughed. "I thought Lischak would've had her killed or something before having her in another class."
"I thought Price would have refused to give her access to the Bunsen burners after what happened last year," the girl replied. "Unless the school board invested in some fire insurance over the summer."
Luke turned to face them. "What are you talking about?"
The boy was about to reply when the sound of an opening door caught Luke's attention. He looked over to see yet another familiar face entering the room. "What is she doing here?" he thought out loud. It was the same girl he'd ran into the previous week. Or rather, the girl that had run into him. She certainly didn't seem to him like the type of person who cared about school, especially not to the point of taking an advanced placement course.
"Question of the day, my friend," the boy beside him whispered.
Luke watched as the girl handed Ms. Lischak a pink slip as she walked past her. "Ah, Miss Polk. Off to yet another lovely start, I see." The girl responded by giving the teacher a stiff, dismissive wave over her shoulder before taking a seat at the table behind him with the same boy he'd seen her meet up with the week before. He couldn't help but wonder how those two had ended up in any advanced placement course, especially chemistry considering it was supposedly one of the toughest courses on the Arcadia High curriculum. They didn't exactly give off any radiance of ideal students.
As the class began, Luke found himself glancing slightly over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of the girl putting her headphones on, looking less than enthused. "She won't last a week," he heard the girl at his table say as Ms. Lischak began her lecture.
Lischak's lecture was exhilarating, but perhaps a little too much so coming from a middle aged woman addressed to a room full of 15 and 16 year olds. While Luke had always loved science, he didn't actually love science, but Ms. Lischak apparently had a way of putting herself into her lectures. She pranced around the room with her pointer, going on and on about chemical bonding and atoms and potential and kinetic energy, all of the topics they'd be covering in class that year. Even though this was just the introductory lecture, and every topic she was touching on would be covered in full at some later date, Luke was avidly taking notes, jotting down close to every word that came out of the teacher's mouth.
"Now," she continued, "let's see what this class knows." Luke immediately perked up at the mention of a verbal pop quiz. Ms. Lischak twirled her pointer in one hand as she walked around the room. "Who can tell me what chemical compounds are necessary for a combustion reaction?" Hands all across the room shot up, including Luke's. However, he saw that Lischak had another plan in mind when she whacked her pointer if front of the girl at the table behind him. "Grace, perhaps you'd care to enlighten the class."
The girl slowly pulled her headphones away from her ears and looked up at the teacher. "Sorry, what?"
Ms. Lischak rolled her eyes, though she didn't look overly surprised and attempted to try again. "What is necessary for combustion?"
"A match." Luke raised an eyebrow as he looked over his shoulder to see the girl sitting there with a small smirk. The boy beside her was trying his best to stifle a small laugh, but wasn't doing a very good job at it. Ms. Lischak looked less than thrilled by the answer she'd received.
"Let's try that again." She repeated the question slowly, making it perfectly clear that she wanted no more nonsense. "What chemical compounds are required in order to produce a combustion reaction?"
"C2-H6-O."
Luke was unable to conceal a chuckle. Ethanol. He'd certainly started his fair share of reactions using that particular catalyst. The two students beside him exchanged disapproving glances.
Ms. Lischak was, of course, not pleased. "See me after class, Polk." The girl mumbled something to herself as the teacher began scouring the room once again. "How about someone who can give me the right answer?" Luke felt her eyes fall on him. "You. What's your name?"
"Uh, Luke. Girardi."
"Mr. Girardi, can you tell me what compounds are required for combustion?"
"The substance being reacted is combined with oxygen which leads to the production of carbon dioxide, CO2 and water, H2O," he rattled off as if it were a programmed response.
"Thank you, Luke," Ms. Lischak smiled before returning to her lecture, satisfied that she'd finally received the correct answer. The girl at his table leaned forward and eyed him with a slightly dreamy look on her face. Luke managed an uncomfortable smile in response. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the girl behind him raise an eyebrow slightly before narrowing her eyes.
"Right," he heard the girl say to the boy beside her. "As evidenced by C2-H6-O. Or C3-H8 if you're good."
"Propane?" Luke asked as he turned around to face the girl. "Working with the, uh, go big or go home theory, I see."
The girl looked straight at him, eyes narrow just as they'd been every time he'd looked at her. "What, have you memorized every chemical compound known to man?" Her voice dripped of sarcasm, yet he answered truthfully, as if her question had been sincere.
"Of course. The memorization of chemical compounds is merely the beginning if you're to understand the scientific..."
"You need to get out more, Poindexter," she said as she placed her headphones on her ears once more. "Unless you plan to marry the periodic table."
Luke sat there slightly stunned for several seconds before spinning back around in his stool to return his attention to Ms. Lischak's lecture. Unfortunately, his mind refused to let him revisit to the sanctity of science and his thoughts remained focused on the girl behind him. He couldn't understand what her problem was. In both of his encounters with her, he thought he'd been perfectly kind and polite, and yet all she did was threaten him or make fun of him. He figured it would only be a matter of time before he started counting down the minutes until she threw him in a trash can or shoved him in a locker. It had been bad enough that one day on the sidewalk; it never even occurred to him that he would have to see her every single day. So much for his plan to avoid this girl at all costs.
He very cautiously turned his head slightly, taking one final glance in the girls direction. Her headphones were still on and she was now carving fiercely into the desk with a metal ruler. Before Luke could turn back around, the girl looked up for her work in time to catch his glance. Her glare was so cold that if the room had been any warmer, Luke figured he would have seen steam coming off her eyes. Oh yeah, he thought sarcastically as he returned his focus to the notebook in front of him, this is the beginning of a beautiful relationship.