True
North
Chapter
2
Pairing:
2x1
Category:
AU
Warnings:
OC child
Disclaimers:
Gundam Wing is copyright Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu
Agency.
"The Eternal Rhapsody" is copyright Midori Saiha/Ringo
Zaidan.
Beta
read by the lovely Diamroyal.
"Can I get out of the wheelchair now?"
Duo
groaned. "We haven't even reached the parking lot. Are
you
sure you don't want to wait until we get to the car?"
Heero
shook his head. "No, I want to try walking by myself."
Today,
he was finally leaving the hospital and going home. He still
had
to go back in a few days for another IV treatment, and there were
at
least three bottles of pills that he had to take daily, but he
was
going
home, and that was the important part.
"All
right." Duo stopped the wheelchair and came around,
holding
his arms out. "Take my hands." When Heero didn't move,
Duo
thrust
them further out. "C'mon. You can walk, but at least let me
help
you out."
Heero
reluctantly took both of Duo's wrists, and hoisted
himself
up. The first few steps were uncertain; he tottered and
nearly
fell into Duo's chest, but soon, he got it and was walking
by
himself,
if slowly. The gene therapy had been taxing, as Duo had
warned,
and he didn't have the strength to walk around the hospital
floors
while trailing the stupid IV pole behind him.
At
least the hard part was over; he still felt under the weather, but
it
was much better than hunkering over the toilet at least three
times
a day, vomiting whatever he'd managed to eat. One invaluable
lesson
he'd learned; hospital food was a lot nastier going up than
it
was the normal way. The delirium hadn't been at all welcome,
first
the
crazy energy surges followed by extreme sleepiness, and
the
particularly
vivid hallucinations. He'd woken up from one episode
only
to find a frightened, wide-eyed Moira peering out from behind
Duo
while clutching tightly to his lab coat.
No, Heero wasn't going to miss the hallucinations very much.
The
first thing he'd have to do once he had more strength was to get
some
clothes that fit him. Right now, he was borrowing an old
gray
sweatshirt
and black track pants from Duo. The sneakers he had on
were
a size too large and they made an annoying shuffling sound
whenever
he moved. Duo's clothes were also too big; they'd had to
roll
up the sleeves and pant legs before they left the hospital room
at
least five times before there wasn't any risk of Heero tripping
over
himself. But they'd do for now, at least until Moira's
graduation
ceremony. Then he'd have to find a good button-down shirt
and
dress pants.
The
car wasn't parked very far; Duo had been lucky today, apparently,
and
soon they were both inside, driving back home, the white
blocky
hospital
growing smaller and smaller in the side mirror.
"You hungry?" Duo asked, flipping on his turn signal.
"No. Why?"
"It's
almost dinnertime, and if you want, I can ask Moira to set
another
place at the table. She's been home since noon because today
was
her last exam."
"I
see," Heero said. "No, don't bother, my appetite still
isn't
there."
Duo
made an understanding noise. "All right. I'll ask Moira to
set
something
aside for you anyway. I'd like you to get something down
tonight,
okay? You're not vomiting anymore, are you?"
"No."
"Good. No nausea?"
"Duo,
I'm fine!" Heero snapped. "Stop fussing, will you? I'll
eat
when
I feel like it."
Duo
sighed. "Look," he said, "you need to get some
nutrients in
there.
You'll recover faster that way. I know your appetite isn't
much,
but try to eat something, or you'll die of starvation before
you
even recover."
"Fine,"
Heero snorted, turning his head to stare out the window. They
drove
the rest of the way home quietly.
The
tomatoes slid out of the can, red pulpy things whose skins came
off
when Moira prodded them with her spoon at the bottom of the
pot.
Today
she was cooking pasta; they hadn't had it for a long time, and
she
figured it was about time she fixed that.
"...'cause
I'm best known for failure, best known for giving up,
there's
nothing that I can say that could matter..." she sang along
with
the music coming out of the Seashell in her right ear. Since it
was
the very last day of school before her graduation, she felt like
it
was a punk' day, and New Found Glory always got her moving.
Who
cared
if they were ancient? Most of today's music was a crapfest
anyway,
with the exception of The Shippers, Sara Campbell, and Nick
Watanabe
Harris.
She
poured some cream into the waiting pot on the stove, stirred it
until
it all mixed well and then pressed the "LOW/WARM" setting
on
the
LCD panel. While the sauce cooked, she filled a larger pot
with
water,
threw in some salt and put it on the burner next to the
sauce,
pressing
"HIGH". It'd take a while for the water to boil, so
until
she
could add the pasta, she danced along the kitchen floor,
pretending
to be the lead singer with the wooden spoon as a
microphone.
"Let's
get down to business now, I'm saving myself the trouble in
the
end..."
she shouted, jumping up and down to the beat of the guitar
riffs.
She almost had this song down, just some more practicing and
she'd
have it cold.
Singing
and dancing in front of the stove started when she was
thirteen,
when she'd gotten the Seashell that was worn on only one
ear
instead of two, along with a copy of the latest Bambi Bouquet
mp3
stick.
While Moira hated Bambi with the passion of a million fiery
white-hot
suns, she would have surgically bolted the Seashell to her
ear
if it was at all possible.
Her
favorite part was coming up, and she took a deep breath,
squeezing
the wooden spoon so hard splinters were about to dig into
her
palms.
"I'm!
The! One! To! Blame! For! It! Yes! I'm! The one! To blaaame!"
she
yelled, in a voice so loud she felt her vocal cords rupturing.
"To blame for what?"
Moira
whirled around, seeing Dad standing in the doorway with his
hands
on his hips, trying unsuccessfully to suppress a grin.
She
screamed.
"W-when did you get back!?" she stammered. "H-how much did you see?"
Dad
held an invisible spoon in his hands, pretending to sing
while
swinging
his hips from to side to side. "I saw that," he
said.
"Anyway, not too loud. I just drove Papa here and he's
going
upstairs
to rest."
Moira
retied her apron strings. "Um, okay, got that. And I do
not
swivel
my hips like that," she muttered.
"Yes
you do," Dad said. "The first boy you take home gets to see
a
picture
of you dancing with a sheep apron over your capri pants,"
he
said
slyly, "right after the embarrassing fairy video."
She growled. "You wouldn't." Dad shrugged his shoulders.
"There's
something boiling on the stove. Better check it," he said.
Moira
shrieked, running over. The pot for the pasta was about to
bubble
over the edge, and she hurriedly poured in some extra water,
allowing
herself a small "phew!" as the foam subsided.
"Should I cook some for Papa?" she asked. Dad nodded.
"He's
not gonna eat now, but I'll make sure he does tonight. After I
show
him the school photo where you tried to cut a heart into
your
bangs."
"Get
out of the kitchen!" Moira yelled, swinging a bare foot at
Dad's
retreating
leg. Assuming the sauce didn't burn while she dumped in
the
pasta and stirred it, dinner would be ready within
fifteen
minutes.
The
keypad beeped softly as Duo punched in the code for the shower:
hot
water, full strength, from the shower head only. Hopefully this
time
he didn't accidentally pick up Moira's shampoo; when he did
that,
Professor G had made some comments about how he'd thought there
was
a cheerleader in the room until Duo sat next to him at a
meeting.
Personally,
he didn't think lavender jasmine shampoo was all that
strong,
and at least Moira didn't have that godawful stuff with
glitter.
As
the water poured down on him, Duo realized that he'd need to
take
some
time to guide Heero around the house. In Heero's time, they
didn't
have controls for the shower nor the laundry machines. The
sinks
and toilets still worked the same way, with sensors, and were
really
only more streamlined.
And that was just the plumbing.
The
computers, for example, were now thinner, probably no thicker
than
a few sheets of paper. The newest laptops now could be folded
down,
then over twice until they were the size of a deck of cards.
Moira
was getting one for a graduation present. It made sense, since
she'd
use it for years, and she was pretty damn good with doing
upgrades
on her own.
He
picked up the shampoo (the right one this time, he could tell by
the
gold label) and lathered it up in his hands. One advantage of
having
shorter hair was that it took less shampoo to clean. Duo had
cut
his hair after going back to his own time with the baby in
tow,
because
the braid had reminded him too much of Heero. He'd always
liked
Duo's hair, though he'd been hard-pressed to admit it,
especially
when the damn braid had knocked over a beaker. Now, Duo
didn't
know whether or not to start braiding his hair again, but he'd
gotten
used to the ponytail, and it was a lot easier, though he could
pick
up braiding easily if he wanted to.
After
all, he taught Moira to braid her own hair as soon as it got
long
enough. That hadn't been too long ago, maybe when she was eight
or
nine.
There
was a knock on the door when he was rinsing off
the
conditioner.
"Dad, time to eat," Moira said from behind the bathroom door.
"Wow,
didn't know you were that quick, kiddo. Look, I'll be down in
about
five, let me get some clothes on. Oh, and Moira?" he
asked,
stepping
out of the shower.
"Yeah?"
Duo
grabbed a towel and started drying his hair. "Would you
mind
showing
Papa around the house sometime this week? You know, getting
him
familiar with the appliances and all that?" She and Heero
hadn't
gotten
off to a good start, he thought, and now that Heero was
recovering
more from the gene therapy, hopefully they could start
over
again.
There
was a long pause, and then, a hesitant "okay," from
Moira
before
he heard her walking down the stairs.
"Thanks, sweetie," he called out.
Everything
in this house was new. New furniture in the dining
and
living rooms, new light fixtures that were built into the house
so
that there were no lamps at all, and the plants outside in
the
garden—the
ones that Heero recognized, at least—had grown taller
and
thicker.
The
carpeting was the same beige color he'd seen last time, but it
was
softer, even though Duo said that they'd have to actually try
if
they wanted to stain it. Moira had happily demonstrated this
earlier
by taking a glass of juice and dumping it on the stairs.
After
she'd wiped it up, it was like she'd never spilled anything in
the
first place.
The
mop, he didn't like so much. Moira had yanked him out of the
way
before
this shin-high machine rolled in, spraying water within a half
a
meter's radius before proceeding to cover the area with a thick
layer
of foam. Then it mopped everything up in a widening circle,
and
smoothly
rolled back out.
Now,
Moira bent over the dishwasher, pulling out a plate. "Here,
check
this out," she said, passing it to Heero. The white china
was
now
spotless, gleaming in the sunlight.
"That's
all sonic waves at work there," she continued. "No water,
no
soap.
I've never used those to clean dishes before, but Nana says
that
they're not as effective anyway."
"How long does it take to clean?" Heero asked. "An hour?"
Moira
snorted, taking the dish and putting it in the cupboard. "Not
even.
Fifteen minutes. Put the dishes in, press the button, and
that's
it. Come on, I'll show you how the TV works," she said,
walking
briskly to the living room. The TV itself hung on the wall
like
a painting—that was nothing new—but when Heero was about to
ask
where
the remote control was, Moira shook her head, smirking, and
snapped
her fingers.
The TV switched on automatically.
"It's
keyed to our movements," Moira explained smoothly, ignoring
his
surprised
expression. "Snapping your fingers turns it on. Snapping
twice
turns it off. Now, this is how you change channels."
She
turned to face the screen. For a few seconds, she didn't look
like
she was doing anything except blinking randomly. But then the
current
channel, a news program, changed to a kids' show where
brightly
colored things danced about in the grass.
"You
blink if you want to change the channel. It works like a
remote
control
in that you don't blink fifty-six times to get, oh,
channel
fifty-six.
What you do is you blink five times," she demonstrated
this,
closing and opening her eyes deliberately, "then you pause for
a
second, and then blink six times. That's five-six."
"It's
different if you want to scan or change the volume,"
she
continued.
"For scanning channels, you look from side to side. To go
up,
you move your eyes to the right, like this. And then, to go down,
you
move to the left. Volume is the same way, except you move your
eyes
up and down." She cocked her head at Heero, a few strands
of
loose
hair falling over one side of her face. "You think you can
try
it
now?"
He
nodded, moving to stand in front of the screen. Assuming the
channels
hadn't changed on him, forty-two should work. It was a
documentary
station, one that Duo had dismissed as dry and boring as
all
hell. That hadn't stopped him from plopping down on the
couch
whenever
Heero had been watching it.
He
blinked rapidly four times, paused, and then blinked twice.
The
brightly
colored dancing things disappeared, only to be replaced with
loud
moans and a naked woman writhing on a bed.
"Yes,
yes, yesss...keep doing that, keep doing that, don't stop,"
she
panted.
"I can't believe it feels so good, don't stop..."
Heero
heard a strangled giggle to his right, and he glanced over.
Moira
was bent over double, holding a hand over her mouth, shaking
with
laughter.
"What? This isn't funny!" he said.
She
shook her head, snapping her fingers twice. The screen went
black,
and she straightened up, smoothing her T-shirt over
her
stomach.
"Show
me how you blinked at the TV," she said, still giggling.
He
blinked
the channel at her, and she clucked her tongue.
"You
blinked too fast," she said, now without laughing. "It
has
to
be a complete movement for it to read properly. Guess the TV
didn't
pick up some of those blinks, because normally
forty-two's
Documentary
Central. Dad loves it to death."
"He does?"
"Oh,
totally. If it's not CNN, it's that. C'mon," Moira said,
walking
briskly
ahead, "there's the bathroom stuff to show you too."
The
weather outside was fantastic. It was currently
seventy-five
degrees
out, with miles of pure blue sky. Moira checked the clock on
her
cell phone. She had about twenty minutes before Amy came to pick
her
up to get their graduation robes.
Hanging
out on the roof seemed like a perfect way to kill
time.
Besides, she could say hi to Amy before she rang the doorbell.
She
pushed the window in her room open, grabbing her sneakers in
her
other
hand. The shingles could be hot, and she didn't want to burn
her
feet. Then she climbed outside.
She
pulled on her sneakers, tying double knots in the laces
so
that they wouldn't come undone, because tripping on this roof
and
falling
down was not her idea of fun.
"Wow,"
she murmured in awe, standing up. The leaves on the
trees
had long unfurled, so now below the sky was a lacy canopy of
green.
It wasn't really good as seeing it from the school roof, which
was
taller, but it was still pretty neat. She'd been up here for
years
and still felt thrilled about seeing everything from a higher
place.
It looked so different.
Different. Like how things were now.
One,
Moira had a summer to look forward to. The last time
she
had summer was when she was eleven. Just thinking about it made
her
so giddy and bouncy that Audrey had to punch her in the
shoulder
during
class to stop. But it was so exciting to think about getting
to
sleep in late and have nothing to do for a month and a half! It
meant
more hanging out with Amy, Audrey and Gwen on things that
weren't
related to studying, more time to take pictures with the
digital
camera she got from Nana for Christmas, and more time to
putter
around on the roof, from just doing stuff on the laptop to
taking
out the guitar and playing until she felt like her fingers
were
falling off.
This
was good because once she started going to Blair
Institute,
she didn't think she'd be really able to do all of those
things.
Maybe the guitar, because it was a good excuse to unwind
between
studying, but the camera would have to sit for a while. Hell,
she
needed to spend more time with Amy and Gwen, because they'd be
going
to different schools this fall—both in the colonies—and
they'd
only
be able to see each other online.
Moira
wasn't that scared of going to college. At least this
time
she looked more like an adult—when she'd gotten into high
school,
anyone could tell she was a kid, which sucked. Hopefully this
time
she could blend in age-wise.
Another
thing she could do this summer was try and get to
know
Papa. She walked further on the rooftop quietly and peeked into
Dad's
window. The bed looked empty, so either Papa conked out on the
couch
after she'd shown him around or he was somewhere else in
the
house.
Hope he's not too upset over the TV, she thought. She really didn't mean to laugh when he got the porn, but she couldn't help it. Still, just thinking about his expression had her giggling again. The whole thing with him wasn't going too smoothly, and she needed to fix that. But he was so hard to get used to; the expectations she'd had didn't fit whatsoever.
She'd
asked Nana and Dad two questions when she was little:
one,
if Papa would know what she looked like, and two, if Papa loved
her.
The answers were always yes and yes, no matter how many times
she
asked. Finally, Dad had told her that Papa loved her very
much,
which
put the whole thing to rest. So when Papa came here, at least
he
knew what she looked like, though he said that she'd looked
retarded
when she gaped, but she didn't think he liked her. Granted,
he'd
been loopy thanks to coming out of what amounted to six decades
of
sleep, but he'd been home for about a week and she thought he'd
have
shown some signs of interest in what his kid had been up to.
Dad
told her to be patient, that Papa was still adjusting to
being
sixty-four to sixty-five years down from his own time, and
that
things
would fall into place sooner or later. All Moira could tell
was
that he didn't really try to know her, and there were a few
times
where
he seemed all out irritated with her.
It
was beginning to frustrate her tremendously. She was
willing,
in fact, she wanted to know everything about him, now that
he
was here and not in the picture on her desk, and there wasn't much
on
the other end.
Unfortunately,
she couldn't do much about it right now. Not only was
Papa
recovering from his illness, there was the graduation ceremony
to
worry about. This year, they'd decided to let the students
have
charge
of part of the commencement, so what happened was that they'd
elected
her, along with Steve Barlow, to speak at the beginning. She
had
a vague outline of the speech written down, but there were only a
few
days left; today was Thursday, and the graduation ceremony was
the
following Tuesday.
The window to her left whisked open, making her jump.
"What
are you doing up there?" Papa asked. Moira gulped; he
didn't
look
happy.
"Uh...just
chillin' on the roof. I do it all the time," she said,
trying
to sound as casual as possible. "It's a lot of fun. You can
see
a ton of stuff from up—"
Papa cut her off. "Get down. Now."
"It's
not dangerous or anything," she explained. "Unless you walk
up
to
the edge on purpose, it's pretty safe up here. C'mon, I'll
show
you,"
she said, reaching out to him.
"No.
Get down," he said, this time beginning to sound really
pissed
off.
Moira put her hands on her hips, and opened her mouth to tell
him
that he didn't have the slightest idea of what he was talking
about
when she heard Amy pull up onto their driveway and honk
twice.
"Well,
I'm getting down now, happy?" she grumbled. Papa snorted
and
turned
away from the window. Moira crawled into her room and
headed
downstairs
and out, where Amy was waiting.
"Hey,"
Amy said, checking her rearview mirror, "on the roof
again,
huh?"
"Yeah."
Moira slid in, buckling her seat belt. "God, I hope getting
our
robes doesn't take too long."
Amy
shook her head, making her blonde hair swing from side to
side.
"Shouldn't. Check the back for me, will you? I'm about to
pull
out."
When Moira didn't say anything, Amy turned to her. "You
okay?
You're
real quiet."
"Uh...yeah.
Just a little argument with the folks," she replied
absently.
"Someone's a little upset about me being up on the roof."
Amy
guffawed. "Jeez, you've been doing that since forever.
Kinda
late
for your dad to be doing that now."
"Eh,
not Dad, but I hope it blows over." Moira stared out the
window,
trying
to forget the last few minutes ever happened. After all, she
had
that speech to work on, and she didn't want it to sound
pissy.
Dinner
that night was not too comfortable for anyone. It had started
out
fine, but when Moira brought up getting her graduation robes for
the
ceremony, that was when Heero put down his fork and asked Duo
about
their daughter spending her time up on the roof.
"Well,
I never had a problem with it," Duo said, pausing to take a
bite
of salad. "It's not like she's tried to walk off the edge
on
purpose."
"That's
still not safe. What if she slips?" Heero asked. Moira
rolled
her
eyes, sipping her water and shoving a forkful of fish into
her
mouth.
"The
shingles are rough. Besides, they have labs in summer where they
go
out at night to hang out on the school roof. There's no point
in
freaking
out over her staying on the roof here when she spends time
on
one that's two stories higher." Duo shrugged, mopping up the
sauce
on
his plate with bread.
Moira
exhaled loudly after swallowing her fish. "So I got
my
graduation
robes today, and I tried them on, and they're so long.
Like,
really long. They reach the floor on me and I think I
could
trip.
But the cap fits okay and the tassel's all perky and cute and I
even
got a special ribbon to wear around my neck because I'm speaking
at
the ceremony and of course I got the special silver cord
because
I
got good grades and—"
"Don't
change the subject." Heero's words were sharp and
abrupt,
accompanied
by a nasty glare aimed at the younger girl.
"Fine,"
Moira snapped. "Don't talk about me like I'm not here,
then.
Especially
when I can see and hear you perfectly." Her lip was
curling
into a sneer and Duo could see one of her eyebrows
slightly
twitching.
But
before he could warn her to cut the smartass act, she got up from
her
seat, picking up her fork and knife and putting them on her
empty
plate.
"I'd
like to be excused," she said. "I need to work more on
my
speech.
If you want, I'll be back down to do the dishes." She left
the
table before Duo could say yes, her hair trailing behind her as
she
walked.
He
waited for Heero to finish eating before leaning back in his
chair
and
saying, "Looks like you're hitting some rough spots with
each
other."
Heero
stood up and starting clearing the table. "She shouldn't be
on
the
roof," he insisted. "I was in the bathroom and then I saw
her
walking
up there, and she acted nonchalant about it. Like I was
making
a big fuss over nothing." He reached for Duo's plate. "I
don't
know.
She's so...different."
"She's
not a baby anymore. When they put you in coldsleep, she was
only
six or seven months old, remember?" Duo got up and circled
his
arms
around Heero's shoulders and burrowing his chin into the dark,
silky
hair. "Give it time," he whispered. "I can talk to
her, but
you've
got to be patient. She adores you, okay? I'm not lying here."
He
felt Heero nod, after a moment's hesitation. Duo smiled,
tightening
his arms around the other man briefly.
"It'll
all work out. You'll see." He kissed the top of Heero's head
and
then released him. "/I'll/ take the dishes. You go and
rest."
Moira
groaned; even with shoes on, the purple graduation robe still
dragged
on the floor. Everyone else's hung at least six inches above
the
ground. This wasn't fair; even Ella over there was just as tall
as
she was and hers wasn't dragging. But then again, Ella had
huge
boobs.
"When
are we going to go in?" she asked Audrey, who was standing
next
to
her.
"They
said any time now," Audrey replied, "which means not in
the
next
five minutes. I want to go now and get this over with, man. At
least
I'm not you, you're the last one to go in." She grinned down
at
Moira.
"Shut
up," Moira grumbled. She'd spent last night trying to
memorize
her
speech so that she didn't have to look at her notes all the
time
while
she spoke to the audience. Now, where the hell was Steve? They
were
supposed to go in together for the ceremony. He said that he
was
going
to go to the bathroom for a bit, but that was about twenty
minutes
ago.
Now
that the speech was less than an hour away, she was as nervous
as
hell.
That was really weird for her; she normally didn't have any
problems
talking in front of anybody. But now her stomach was doing
jumping
jacks inside.
I
guess it would have been different if it was just Dad and Nana,
she
thought. Now that Papa was here, she felt like she couldn't
screw
this
up. If it had been Dad and Nana only, she could have
forgotten
everything
in her speech, and in the end it would be okay. They'd
laugh,
and it'd be fine, once she knew she could live it down. But
Papa
didn't look like the type to laugh at all. Right now Moira
was
wondering
if he even had a sense of humor to begin with. There /had/
to
be, if he could smile like that in the picture by her bed.
That
was the problem. The thing was that people that /didn't/ have a
sense
of humor couldn't smile like that, and at least from what she'd
heard
from Nana and Dad, she thought Papa would have found something
funny
or at least seemed more amiable. But it seemed like his face
only
had two modes: stony or pissed. Granted, he was still gaining
back
some strength from his stint in the hospital, but honestly, she
was
wondering if that picture she had was just a really rare thing
going
on.
Moira
heard the strains of "Pomp and Circumstance" beginning,
and
looked
around furiously, wondering if Steve decided to lock himself
in
the bathroom on purpose just to embarrass her.
"Steve
isn't here yet?" Audrey asked. "Tough, girl. Good luck on
your
speech,
maybe he'll show up on time." She gave Moira a quick hug,
taking
off her cap and ruffling her hair. "I gotta go get
into
alphabetical
order with the rest of em. See ya around."
"Great.
Terrific." Moira shuffled her notes around, going over
her
speech
one last time. Her classmates were disappearing quickly into
the
auditorium. They had at least two hundred graduating, right?
And
Steve
/still/ was nowhere to be seen.
"Come
on, come on..." She started bouncing up and down, watching
the
numbers
dwindle to fifty, then thirty, then ten. Their cue was coming
up
fast, and now the usher was looking at her, mouthing, "where
is
he?"
Moira
shrugged helplessly. "Good Lord above, I beg of you, strike
me
down
where I stand," she whimpered.
"Not
today, babe." She whirled around, seeing Steve walking
casually
to
the entrance.
"What
the hell is wrong with you? We just...oh, there goes our
cue.
/Terrific/," she said.
"Dude,
it wasn't my fault! I got lost on my way to the bathroom and
on
the way back."
"Save
it, Barlow," Moira snapped, "we're late." She
gathered up the
folds
of the purple robe in both hands and started running down the
aisle,
ignoring Steve's plea to wait.
Get to the podium, get to the podium, get to the podium now, she thought. Her classmates were a huge blur of purple, white, and silver all around. She'd been pretty fast, but at this point, she might just make it before the music ended, with a few seconds to catch her breath.
"Oof!"
Moira hit the ground hard, flat on her face. Head spinning,
she
slowly rose to her knees. Her palm was stinging, and her ankle
didn't
feel too good either. And she was only halfway to the podium.
She
felt someone lifting her arm. "Tsk tsk, Maxwell,"
Steve
said,
"Running isn't a good idea for short kids and long robes,
don't
ya
know." Before she could protest, Moira felt another arm around
her
knees,
and they were running the rest of the way up to the podium.
The
music had already finished.
She
didn't want to look up into the audience to see where her family
was.
The scenarios she had in her head were bad enough, and she
was
swaying
from side to side, looking out over a sea of giggling
classmates,
and trying to figure out what, exactly, were the closing
remarks
of her speech.
"Well,
we sure can say these four years have been a trip, eh?"
Steve
shouted
into the microphone, setting Moira down on her feet like she
was
a toddler being shooed out to play.
"I'm
going to get you for this," she hissed to Steve. Then she
turned
to
the audience, straightened her robes, and batted the tassel out
of
the
way. At least the speech was going to be good.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen..."
