A Day in the Life of Chapter Three
Damia got off the bus as it stopped in front of her house. Thankfully, her aunt and uncle were gone, so she had the house to herself. In the few hours the spell had been working for, she had discovered that she no longer had to be Taleah and that the memory blocks were leaving and the non-existent skills she had were bleeding over. All that really meant was she could attract guys if she tried and could mix drinks. But mixing the drinks would attract the men anyway.
Damia threw some clothes and important things from her top and bottom dresser drawers. Instead of keeping things like porn in the bottom drawer, Damia had things like her "Gambit" comics and CDs.
Throwing the things into a box, Damia wondered what they were going to do. She would be glad to get out of this house and away from the wicked witch of the west. When she was done, she grabbed her stuff and left the house to wait at the curb, hoping her aunt wouldn't get home in the meantime.
When Remy finally got to the house, he knew there was one thing he had to grab. The comic collection. He opened the door and walked over to it. He knew he would be killed if he failed to take all sixteen boxes with him; he just had no idea how to get them into the car. He thought the trunk could hold probably half of them. What he would do with the rest, he had no clue. He'd make it work somehow. He threw clothes into another box along with some movies, music and books. He threw the box in the trunk and started to load the comics.
I haven't said much in awhile. See, I've got my babies. Sixteen of them to be exact and Remy knew if he left my comics, he wouldn't have some semi-important body parts after I found out he left them. The way I see it, if I can't have my babies, he won't be able to have any either. Only problem might be finding those semi-important parts. They're very small targets.
When Remy pulled up, Damia found the trunk and half the backseat full. She threw her stuff in the other half and got in the front asking, "Did you pack everything?"
Remy grinned. "Does it look like I packed everything? No, most of the stuff is comics. You know Jazz would throw a fit if I left them."
As Remy pulled away from the curb, Damia cringed. "She would kill us. Where're we going?" she asked, realizing that he had to have somewhere in mind, or he would have parked before this instead of driving like the mad-man he just might be.
"She might kill you. Me on the other hand…" he trailed off. "I want to get back to school for lunch."
Now Damia was suspicious. She knew Remy wouldn't go near school food with a ten-foot pole, let alone touch it with one. He would only eat things like chips that were prepared elsewhere and sold other places too. He had no reason to want to get back to school. Plus, she was under the impression that they were leaving and not going back to school.
She stared at him. "Remy…why do you want to go to school for lunch? You hate school lunch."
Remy started to chuckle, which in a few minutes turned into a full-blown laugh. Damia was beginning to believe his sanity was suspect.
"I don't want t' eat there," he gasped. "I wan' t' have a 'chat' wit' Thomas."
Damia was slightly shocked. He had always talked about doing that, but she never thought he would try. Then again, she never thought his would happen either and she HAD seen pigs fly, thanks to friends, so anything was possible.
"Remy, you don't have to…it's not like he ever did anything—ever hurt me," she said, and then noticed the accent. "Wait, your accent is showing through."
Remy looked startled. He didn't notice because its how he spoke all the time. "Okay, now dat's weird. Dis shoul' jus' be de spell dat's showing t'rough, no' a full body switch, righ'?"
He was starting to seriously worry about his and he showed it the only way he could currently—he turned up the music. He wondered about how far the switch might go. He suddenly burst out laughing.
Damia looked at him, wondering what would happen to Thomas, not that she cared, but she didn't want him dead. "What's so funny?" she asked, hoping it wasn't how Thomas would look with his face rearranged. Actually, he might just look better. Right now, he looked like a Picasso creation, after Remy was done, maybe a few parts would be in the right places. That made Damia smile, even though she wasn't normally cruel—she just didn't like Thomas.
"Remy wa' jus' wonderin' 'ow far dis migh' go. Wha' woul' happen if yo' stuff came back…den yo'd actually be psychic. Wonder 'f Jazzes blocks are comin' down. Dat's really de on'y t'ing dat 'splains dis."
Damia gasped as he suggested her abilities might come back. "Don't say things like that," she said, horrified. She didn't want her abilities there, let alone here. They were a pain, sometimes literally.
Damia's only skills weren't just attracting men and mixing drinks. She was also a telepath, a sensitive, had enhanced senses, and was "magical" in more ways than one. Remy can testify to that. She rarely uses them, but she still gets headaches from her mind being overwhelmed by others.
They finally arrived at the school and made it in time for lunch. Remy quickly pulled into a parking spot near the cafeteria where he knew Thomas would be. Thomas and his sister hung out there before school, during lunch and even after school, waiting for their ride.
Thomas and Sara had a strange relationship. Sara is bisexual and has a cruel sense of humor. She would make fun of anyone's weaknesses and laugh at death and destruction. Thomas liked to stalk girls he like from a distance and write creepy poetry to impress them. They never seemed to go anywhere without the other and insisted on standing within two inches of each other. She would also stand between his legs as he would lean against walls and such. They also both had crushes on Damia. She said no to both, but it might have made for some interesting nighttime recreation.
Remy put the car into park before it stopped rolling and was out almost before the engine turned off. He took off for the cafeteria, mind set on his target. Damia was startled at how fast he was going and she got out of the car more slowly so had to run to catch up.
"Remy?" Damia asked, and when she didn't get his attention, she asked again. "Remy?"
Remy stopped dead to pay attention. "What?"
"Don't kill him."
Since killing Thomas was the last thing on his mind, Remy happily agreed. He started back on the path to the cafeteria. He threw the door open and scanned the lobby. He spotted them over by the vending machines where it looked like they were doing something naughty. He stalked toward them and threw Sara into the machines.
"Wha' de hell d' yo' t'ink yo' doin'?" Remy asked.
Damia had stopped just inside the door so she wouldn't look like she was involved, but could still see what was happening. They wouldn't recognize her and so she wouldn't be able to defend him or even help, really. She didn't want him to make a fool of himself, but realized it would be Remy making a fool out of Thomas.
"Well, I was eating," Thomas said matter-of-factly.
Remy put his forearm to Thomas' throat. "Non, wit' Damia. Remy know wha' yo' be doin'. Bot'erin' 'er, stalkin' 'er. Makin' 'er miserable. Yo' better kee' yo' hands off 'er an' any ot'er girl who tell yo' non. 'f Remy hear dat yo' no', he gon' come back an' yo' be hurtin' a lo' worse. D' yo' un'erstan'?" Remy eased the pressure on Thomas' neck enough for him to answer.
"Yeah, but I didn't do any of that stuff! Just leave me alone!" Thomas begged as Sara stayed on the ground, not wanting to confront the strange man. Damia would have stepped in if either of them had tried to fight back, but she was starting to believe people when they said Remy was scary when he was mad.
Remy completely removed his arm from Thomas' neck. He was shocked that he could tell Thomas was lying, even though he knew he was. Thomas sat there, rubbing his neck. Remy backed out of his personal space so he could have room to swing. Remy suddenly punched Thomas square in the jaw and followed it with one to the gut, both were stronger than they should have bee, even for Kristen who never pulled punches. They threw Thomas back against the wall hard enough to knock whatever breath he had out of him.
Damia suddenly pulled on Remy's arm, trying to lead him away before they got in serious trouble. Sure, they didn't have to worry about getting expelled, but they could still be arrested. Damia realized this. She was about a second too late. Someone must've reported them. The officer rode up on his little bicycle and told Remy to back away and get on the ground
Remy did what was probably the worst this in this situation. He turned and laughed in the face of the school police. They would try to subdue him if he didn't do something soon. It was his job and they were the only people on campus allowed to have guns.
Remy stepped out from the corner made by the wall and vending machine and laid down on the floor. He would comply until he found an opportunity to fight back. Damia wasn't sure what to do or what he was doing. She hadn't even thought about the school police, but with all the fights they'd been having, they were on high alert.
"Go to the car," Remy ground out as the officer ground his knee into Remy's back and slammed his head into the floor. "I'll be fine."
She nodded and left the building reluctantly. She didn't have a clue what she was doing—he had the keys. She had learned to trust him, but couldn't really see how he would get out of this without a warrant for his arrest, or he could get arrested and leave her stranded out here.
Remy allowed himself to be cuffed, but as soon as the officer relaxed a bit, got a knee under himself and unbalanced the officer. He had called for any backup he could get, which might include teachers or more policemen. They hadn't gotten there yet, so he used the same knee to get up and to his feet while shaping a bobby pin he had slipped from his waistband. He had grabbed them from a TV tray where they were put after the ROTC ball when Damia had her hair done up "all pretty". They suddenly went from cat toys to lifesavers. As he ran out to the car (thank god for handicapped-friendly doors), he managed to get the cuffs off and threw the keys to Damia who unlocked the doors and placed them in the ignition. He started the car and left the school.
Damia smiled at him. "Not sure how you did it, but nice to see you anyway."
Remy laughed. "Dose poo' policemen. Day have not'in' t' g' off. I be a tall, white male. Day can't e'en say anyt'in' 'bou' de eyes," he said, gesturing at the ever-present sunglasses. Now that he was himself again, he wouldn't go anywhere without them. "An' 'f dey try a DNA tes'…"
He actually wanted them to. White men with violent tempers have been in jail, so they're probably in the system, which now includes DNA. They'd either not recognize the patters or it would be a girl. He was either an alien or an unnaturally tall girl.
Out of the blue, Remy suddenly asked, "Le's ge' lunch?"
Remy pulled into a nearby Denny's for lunch, knowing they had sometime before Kristen's car was reported stolen, or they were reported missing. He also knew he could get enough cash to buy a car in that time. Kristen would be reported before Taleah because Deena would just think she was with her friend. That would be someone else he would dearly love to beat. Before he knew it, food was placed in front of him. Remy looked up, startled.
"Di' yo'…" he asked.
"Yeah, you were kinda out of it. And I figured you didn't want to wait or be interrupted," she said and started stealing food from him. He growled at her.
"Ge' yo' own," he said, glaring.
"But yours tastes so much better!" she teased.
Remy knew Damia never really ate. He was always trying to get her to eat more, but it never seemed to work, so he put up with her stealing from him. It was a privilege few people had, if they wanted to keep their fingers.
Remy sighed. "Yo' shoul' know by now t' ge' yo' own."
Damia shrank back in her chair, looking chastised. "I know, but I'm not hungry. I've already eaten today."
Remy knew when he had gone too far. "'ave yo' t'ought 'bou' wha' yo' wanna do 'bou' Deena? Yo' coul' d' anyt'in' yo' wan'. I peron'ly wan' t' bea' 'er 'ead in." And could do it too, he added mentally.
"Smooth," she said grinning, having already forgiven him. "You know I've wanted to strangle her for awhile, but I won't. I'd be happy if I never saw her again, which is looking more and more likely. If you want to go and beat her, you can do that, but leave me out of this. I'd rather we just leave." She was silently begging him to not do anything and just let it go. She was non-violent naturally. It came from Taleah's influence, but even without that, she wouldn't do something like that and she hoped Remy wouldn't either. She knew how he felt about Deena and knew he would follow through with his threats if he could. Now he could.
Remy sighed and continued eating with a scowl forming on his face. He knew that look in Damia's eyes. She didn't want him to do anything. His face softened. "'f yo' jus' wan' t' leave, we will," he said, reaching out to her. She slid down the booth and leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder.
She opened her mouth to say, "thank you," but found it full of food. She shook her head and after she swallowed said, "I should have known that would be what you wanted." She laughed and started to move away. "I'll only stay if you promise not to do that again."
Remy looked at her, offended. "Yo' t'ink da's why Remy wanted yo' close t' him? Yo' jus' look cute wit' a mout' full o' food."
Damia slid back next to him. "You'd say that even if I had a mouth full of crap with bugs crawling on it…" she paused and shuddered. Remy pulled her closer.
"Non, den he'd tell yo' t' wash yo' mout' ou' an' brush yo' teeth. Den he'd be wonderin' why yo' pu' shit in yo' mout'."
Damia laughed and playfully smacked his chest with her free hand. "You know what I meant."
Remy chuckled. "Oui, bu' i' made yo' laugh," he told her, signaling the waitress, who giggled as she came over.
"Would you like something else?" she asked as she discreetly glared at Damia.
Remy frowned at the waitress as she smiled sweetly at him. "Brownie á la mode," trying to keep the encounter short. He didn't like people glaring at his girl. He immediately tuned his attention back to the girl in his arms instead of playfully flirting with the girl as he normally would.
Damia looked up at him. "Are you going to make me eat some of that?"
Remy couldn't help but laugh at the look Damia gave him, but tried to hold it in. It didn't work. "Wai' 'til yo' see i'. Den we'll see 'f yo'll eat i' on yo' own o' Remy ends up feedin' yo'."
Damia considered it. "Either way, I think I would prefer you feeding me."
Remy got a flash of hostile feelings that made him jerk. He still wasn't used to getting any feelings through what should be non-existent empathy. He glanced around the restaurant as Damia sat up and asked, "What's wrong?" as he spotted an old man and woman. They had been glaring at them up until he noticed them. Damia glanced at the old couple and realized what was happening. The couple thought they were being inappropriate in public, but they were probably the kind of people who thought holding hands in public was obscene. Remy sighed, causing Damia to reclaim her spot on his shoulder. Then the food arrived.
"I' dere jus' somet'in' wrong wit' us?" Remy asked, taking the first bite.
"No." Damia was quick to assure him that it wasn't them. When he got into one of his moods, it was best to get him out of it as soon as possible. It might also be the sunglasses he wouldn't take off. "It's not us. It's them. They're just jealous of what we have." She snuggled deeper into his arms… and found a spoonful of brownie and ice cream awaiting her with a grinning Remy holding it. Well, as long as it made him smile. She took the bite and they finished the desert in silence.
Please reveiw. Any comments welcome.
