My apologies for the shoddy progress, but my schoolwork beckons me, even in my sleep. Enjoy.
"I thought I told you to stop following me," Zelgadis growled at Xellos as he pushed his way through the crowds of slow-moving students. After being thrashed verbally by Lina during detention, he wanted to be as far from the accursed building as he could get, and even farther from Xellos, if physically possible.
"So, I hear you got it from Lina today. You two really do seem to have some sort of delightful S&M thing going, huh? I will admit, I'm jealous." Xellos said, his trademark smirk and optimistic attitude shining through like a glaring light in Zelgadis' eyes.
"Shut up," Zelgadis shot, and stopped when he ran into someone, knocking the diminutive figure down. He looked down, and immediately cursed his luck.
Rising from the floor and dusting himself off was Phibrizo, the child prodigy who, while only 11 years old, was in advanced placement calculus and a favored student in his uncle's chemistry courses.
"I'm sorry sir," Phibrizo said, backing away slowly, "I didn't mean to get in your way; I was just trying to…"
"Zip it Phibrizo: it was my fault for not looking," Zelgadis muttered, not wanting to give up his image, yet not taking out his anger on Phibrizo. Pushing past the boy and farther down the hall, he felt a tug on his shoulder. Looking back, purple hair still catching the light, Xellos still smiling behind him
"Wow, a portion of the iceberg finally chipped off! Ladies and gentlemen…"
"Xellos, I'm warning you, do not cross me today," Zelgadis cursed, seeing the light pouring in from the open doors, fresh afternoon air streaming in. Freedom was his at last. With only twenty more feet to go, there was no way he could be stopped.
That was, until he collided with something else that caused him to trip and fall forward. Throwing one leg ahead and one leg behind he managed to keep his balance, his glare seeking out the culprit. His temper flared when he found out who it was, his eyes meeting a fierce pair not far behind him.
Sadistic smile crossing the space between them, green hair spiked up above his bandana, the rest falling about his shoulders, stood a pallid figure in black corduroy pants with a banded belt, heavy metal band t-shirt, army surplus boots, plus a spiked leather choker to finish the ensemble.
"Valgarv," Zelgadis hissed, knowing that this day simply ceased to even be a bad day for him. Valgarv was lead singer and lead guitar in his own heavy metal garage band that went by the name of Dark Star. Glavos and Seigram played bass guitar and drums respectively.
"Graywords," Valgarv said, "I hear you were talking to my girl, Lina."
"Being verbally molested is more like it," Zelgadis countered, "By the way, hasn't she spurned you several times already?"
"She's only denying what she truly feels. She feels sorry for losers like you, so she talks to you to make you believe there's something more to your pitiful existence." Valgarv finished, stepping forward in challenge. He would get Zelgadis to back down.
"Need I remind you who gave you those scars on your belly?" Zelgadis spat, the memory of that particular fight burned deep into his memory, the scar on his own right hand a sting he still felt across his palm. His fists curled tightly, knuckles growing painfully white, as he stood tall against Valgarv, their stares intense with hatred.
"Now gentlemen, I want you to stop this," a sage voice interjected between them. Zelgadis looked to the source, and found an old, bearded and wrinkled face staring at them. He took a step back, and then watched as the old man ushered Valgarv back as well.
"Mr. Gabriev," Valgarv started to explain, "Zelgadis and I were just discussing…" But, with a sudden glare, Mr. Gabriev silenced Valgarv, his voice shaky with age but still strong enough to lecture history courses.
"Valgarv, keep your excuses to yourself. I know you two have had it in for one another for years," he said, turning his attention to Zelgadis, "Now, I want the two of you to go your separate ways, Zelgadis first, and I want to see no more of this kind of attitude in school. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"
The two watched one another for several moments, the air between them thick and charged with anger. Zelgadis broke this stare down by smirking at Valgarv. It wasn't worth his time today.
"Yes Mr. Gabriev, you're crystal clear," Zelgadis said, giving Valgarv an over-toothy smile, "Have a good day, Valgarv."
"Shove it, Graywords," Valgarv cursed as Zelgadis walked towards the doors, "This isn't over yet!" But, his words fell on deaf ears as Zelgadis walked out of the school and into the afternoon sun.
Quickening his stride, Zelgadis moved across the main lawn. He was going home: getting verbally abused by Lina was bad enough, but meeting up with Valgarv and having that kind of conflict had completely ruined his day. He was going to lock the door to his room, warm up his electric guitar and earphones, and drown out the rest of the world.
Looking down at his right palm, the jagged line running unnaturally across the flesh stinging once again. It was a miracle they didn't have to use reconstructive surgery on it. He could still remember Valgarv's words, now almost four years past since that day.
"How does it feel to be an even worse freak?" He had taunted Zelgadis ever since he had come back to school, body covered in scars.
"Just a stupid freak, like your stupid freak parents," he taunted further, and then took the stained glass picture his grandmother had given him and broke it against the locker. Zelgadis had only wanted to show it to his art teacher. Trembling, he had begun picking up the pieces of broken glass, one piece making a nice slice into his left thumb.
"Awww, did I break the stupid freak's glass picture?" Valgarv coddled, and then broke into a fit of laughter.
Without warning, Zelgadis grabbed the largest piece of stained glass remaining and sliced hard across Valgarv's belly. Though it cut his hand deeply, it also made its mark on Valgarv.
Not hesitating for a moment, Zelgadis struck again, finding another, longer score on Valgarv's now partially exposed stomach.
Crying out in shock and pain, Valgarv had punched Zelgadis, and then proceeded to keep his distance, cursing and spitting on Zelgadis until a teacher arrived and took both to the principal's office.
The blast of a car horn brought Zelgadis back to walking, and he looked quietly in the direction of the horn. As the metallic blue convertible rolled up alongside him, three smiles, a squint, and two pairs of friendly eyes met his gaze.
Golden ponytail flashing in the sun, Gourry waved him down, "Hey Zel, do you want a ride?" Gourry was the school's leading runner for the football team, on his way to college football and possibly to professional playing. He was a good guy at heart, but his ability to completely miss what was going on was what drove Zelgadis away from him. He had little time for the clueless.
"Yes, Mr. Zelgadis, it would be no trouble at all," said Gourry's soft-spoken and kindly passenger, the star player's girlfriend, Sylphiel Nels Lahda, "And besides, Mr. Xellos has already accepted our offer." She was a pretty young woman with long, straight purple hair and beautiful deep green eyes. Of course, the two were a match made in heaven: she was a cheerleader, and one of the nicer ones as well. She was interested in becoming a nurse, an occupation that seemed to fit her like a glove.
He looked to the rear seat and saw Xellos smiling, who only patted the side of the car.
"Come on Zel, we don't want to hold up traffic. Get in, and we can cruise in luxury." The invitation was tempting, but he wasn't sure if he really wanted to be seen with the three happiest people in the high school; the stupid people might actually believe he was up to something.
Finally, he gave in, crossing to the car, "Alright, why not? Xellos, move over." He put the closest thing to a grin he could muster on his face as he climbed into the back seat, looked over to Xellos, and then let his head fall back against the head rest. He would never admit it, but this car was really comfortable.
"What a show back there Zel," Xellos nudged with his elbow, "Think you could beat Valgarv again?" Xellos leaned against Zelgadis' shoulder, remembering the attack Zelgadis had made on Valgarv several years ago, "Feels almost…nostalgic, doesn't it?"
Zelgadis, grimacing slightly, poked Xellos in the ribs to get him to back off, and stated rather matter-of-factly, "Probably, but only if I had to. I don't want to fight, not if I don't have to."
For several moments, Xellos sat in silence, curiosity and astonishment written into his face. Could he truly be hearing these words from Zelgadis, the stone cold student turned soft?
"Wait a minute, did I hear what came out of your mouth correctly?" He placed his hand against Zelgadis' head before continuing, "Hmmm, no fever," grabbing Zelgadis' wrist, "Pulse is normal," and then hit Zelgadis' knee quickly. When Zelgadis punched him in the shoulder, he scooted back over to his side of the back seat and rubbed his shoulder, smiling thoughtfully, "Reflexes are normal."
"Don't assume things Xellos; I still would pop him if I had the chance to. I just don't feel like carrying it that far this time." Why was it that Xellos could never take anything seriously? Since they had been kids he had always been the joker, always willing to make a fool of himself for attention and the sake of others.
"So, that means that if Mr. Gabriev hadn't been there, I would have seen the high school's two darkest heavyweights go at it in a brawl to end all brawls," Xellos asked, imitating a boxer with his fists in front of his face, throwing two punches into the face of a fake opponent, "That would be something to watch, and definitely worth betting on."
"Oh, you shouldn't say that, Mr. Xellos," Sylphiel said, her voice rising sharply for a moment, and then returning to its soft, feminine tone as she continued, "Violence is never the right way to solve anything."
"Tell that to Ali over here," Xellos motioned with his thumb. Zelgadis punched him in the shoulder again, and through a pained smile pointed to his sore shoulder, "See?" He rubbed his shoulder again as he looked down at his shoes: Zelgadis was either in a really bad mood, or he was in a good mood and trying to hide it.
"The longer you talk about fighting, the worse that shoulder is going to feel Xellos. Got it?" Zelgadis warned. He need only warn him once before Xellos got the hint and stopped trying to make light of the situation.
"I understand that much, but I don't see why you have to take it from Valgarv like that." Xellos flinched as Zelgadis began to throw a punch, then felt a rush of relief as he punched the seat cushion instead. Sylphiel jumped visibly in her seat, and Zelgadis looked to the carpeting as he forced his anger to subside.
"Screw Valgarv, it's none of your business anyway!"
For several moments a heavy silence hung over the group, tense like a cat ready to pounce.
"Listen, I don't know what you guys are talking about, but I agree with Sylphiel," Gourry said, shattering the silence, "Where does everyone want to go?"
"The mall?" Xellos piped up, "I'd love to pick up another Blessed Union CD."
"And I could get a blizzard at the DQ there," Gourry added, "Sounds good to me."
Zelgadis felt his stomach tighten. He couldn't let himself be seen at the mall, particularly with his present company. If anyone spotted him…
"Um, that's okay. You guys can just…"
"Take us to the mall. Great to see you're being a good sport about it, Zel," Xellos interrupted, pulling hard against a protesting arm, "And besides, how would it be if you went back while your uncle was still steamed about chemistry today?"
Zelgadis thought about it, for a moment halting his protest. Rezo would be pissed off at him for some time, and he knew he'd never hear the end of it if he went straight home. First there would be the chew-out, than the lecture, and finally the punishment, most likely a strictly enforced lights-out policy and grounding for a few weeks. If he had more of a social life, the punishment might affect him a little more, but mostly all it did was get him bored more frequently than usual.
Finally, Zelgadis stopped struggling and conceded, "Sure, why not go for a while? I could use a break from the monotony of my daily life." He was lying of course, but Xellos would be the only one who knew the truth. Sitting back and letting himself slouch, he watched Gourry shift gears to drive and take a left at the upcoming intersection, heading away from his house, thankfully, and hitting the highway.
The wind ruffled his hair as they made the five-minute car trip to the mall, a mighty structure of rampant capitalism and clique-oriented consumerism. It was the largest attraction of the Atlas Heights suburban area, and was the most common hangout for Cepheid's student body. If they wanted to go anywhere else, they would have to drive ten minutes or bus into Atlas City proper. Once there, a variety of clubs, larger malls, and countless other places waited to be invaded by the weekend-released students of the area high schools, including their rival school, Ruby-Eye Memorial, and the academic elite from Claire University, the ivy-league, world-renowned college where only the best ever made it to six-digit paychecks.
Pulling into the parking lot, Zelgadis quickly cast his gaze about. Surprisingly, there were no students in sight. Maybe they were early enough to beat the rush. Still, it was too suspicious for Zelgadis to feel comfortable as he got out of the car and followed the others inside.
The crowd inside was normal if not busy, with parents dragging their kids to different stores, several college kids window-shopping, and a handful of elderly. It had been five months since the last time he had been in the mall, and nothing had changed.
Feeling a quick jerk on his arm, he found Xellos starting to drag him around. Zelgadis quickly tried to put his foot down.
"Xellos, don't you dare think I'm going to let you drag me around." Yet Xellos didn't hear him, or was simply not paying any attention to his words as he proceeded to pull him from store to store.
"Wait Xellos, I don't want to…No. No! I refuse!"
"Zel, its only a bath and body store. Relax; you could use some of these aromatherapy candles anyway."
"Put that spray down! I will not let you make me smell like," he seized the tiny spray bottle, reading the label, "Summer Breeze."
Moments later, Xellos grabbed him and dragged him to another store, where he forced Zel to look at clothes he would never wear.
"You know Zel, if you wore less black and more vibrant colors, you would have no trouble finding girls who'd want to date you," Xellos suggested as he lifted an ice-blue button shirt against Zelgadis' chest. Zelgadis looked at it, then into the mirror that stood adjacent to him. The blue really didn't look that bad…Wait! What was he saying?
"No way in hell," was all he needed to say. Despite his annoyed tone, Xellos continued to smile, irritating him even more.
"Oh, I just remembered; I have a store you'll love," Xellos suddenly perked up, and then grabbed Zelgadis by the arm again.
Zelgadis groaned, "Another store? Xellos, can't we just rest for a moment, maybe sit down for a few minutes?"
"Much to do, and so little time to do it in," Xellos replied cheerfully, and then pulled Zelgadis along.
Boredom was just about to claim Zelgadis and put him to sleep, when the powerful blast of punk rock mixed with gothic, techno, and heavy rock aroused his curiosity. Looking in the direction Xellos was dragging him, he felt a small pleasantness wash over him when he realized that Xellos was taking him to the only store in the mall he enjoyed going to. It was called Subject Matters, an entire shop dedicated to those who were skateboarders, punk, gothic, grunge, or any combination of these subcultures. It was a haven for the school outsiders, and for those disaffected few who simply didn't care.
Walking into the shop, Zelgadis took in the scenery. About a dozen people were in the shop; each with their own kinds of dress, from fishnets and bondage pants to pleather pants and mesh shirts, arms adorned with spiked wristbands and black lace, and enough piercings to make earrings for at least 40 people. These were his kind of people, with his kind of attitude, and he felt very happy Xellos had actually drug him here.
Suddenly, his eyes caught a familiar flash of red hair near the back of the store. He watched, and sure as it was daytime Lina emerged from behind a rack of shirts, several of them already tucked under her arm.
He wondered what he should do. If she saw him, she'd probably chew him out for his earlier comments. But, there was no real place to duck out of sight. He had to think of something quick. It's not that he was afraid; he just didn't want to deal with it again.
"Lina," Xellos called as he began to move, pulling Zelgadis along helplessly, "How goes the world?"
She turned to him and gave him a half-smile, "Other than the usual stupid people in my life, things are just peachy. What're you doing here?"
"Shopping with Zelgadis," he said, motioning to the now stiff and stunned figure next to him.
"Oh," Lina responded, sounding bored, and then perking up again, "Say Xellos, you're still interested, right?"
Zelgadis looked to Xellos curiously. How out of it was he? Since when did Lina ever talk kindly with anyone, particularly Xellos?
"Yeah, I'm still interested," Xellos said as he checked his watch, "Holy hell, it's that time already?" He looked up from his watch, "Lina, would you care to join us for some ice cream? We have to meet up with our ride, and you and I could work out some of the specifics."
Lina's expression changed from halfway pleasant to an unpleasant bothered face, "I don't know Xellos; I'm already low on cash, and…"
"Don't worry, I'll pay." Xellos added.
Lina perked up again, "Sure, why not?"
With that decided, the three of them walked to the food court and took over a small table. Xellos volunteered to go up and get the ice cream. Zelgadis started to protest, but stopped himself; he didn't want to look like a dick in front of Xellos, and he sort of liked this more friendly side of Lina, certainly much preferred to the witch who'd chewed him out earlier.
"I'll take a strawberry hot fudge sundae with pistachio nuts," Lina said, and then leaned back in her chair, putting her boots on the table.
"Vanilla," Zelgadis said, and relaxed as he slouched and looked about at the surrounding crowd. The high school students had arrived, nearby tables of Cepheid's cheerleading troupe particularly loud, laughing about something he couldn't make out.
"Sort of sad," he said to himself.
"What is?" Lina asked.
He looked to her in confusion, and realized she had overheard him. He nodded and continued, "Well, the whole caste system our school is divided into, making for the future only problems and not solutions."
"Right," Lina agreed, "Why worry about it though?"
"I'm not worried about it," he countered, "I just think it's sort of sad. I mean, there is so much pointless struggle for dominance and popularity. I just don't get it."
"You're not meant to," Lina said, "And besides, most people are so stupid about it anyway that it'll never change, particularly those who are popular."
Zelgadis stared at her in surprise. He had never expected to hear Lina talking peaceably with him, let alone agreeing with him. She was the ultra-witch, the girl who seemed to hate everything male and all forms of authority; the activist who tore into people that claimed heavy music, video games, and television caused violence. How could he be sitting here, and she not try to tear his views down?
"Well, if it isn't the two people in the school that everyone hates," a voice interrupted his thoughts. He looked to the source and cringed. Two green, curled bangs helped to frame a pair of gleaming blue eyes, and a smug expression that was all too familiar.
"What do you want, Martina?" Zelgadis asked, rather annoyed that she was even in his presence. Martina was the head cheerleader at Cepheid, and was one of the snobbiest people Zelgadis ever had the unfortunate luck to know. Her father was an important politician and member of the school board, her mother a simple figurehead in Atlas Heights that no one ever saw.
"Why do you think, Zelgadis," Martina replied cheerfully, "To be the first to let you see my beautiful new outfit." Zelgadis looked at her. The gaudy pink sundress she had bought was pulled tight against her body. From his vantage point, her could clearly tell that the dress was not only three sizes too small for someone of Martina's frame, but that Martina was also not wearing a bra.
"Brrrr," Lina said, "Seems a bit nippley, right Martina?" Zelgadis watched Martina's face take what appeared to be a thoughtful expression, but knew that Martina was lost. He was forced to bite his lower lip to keep from bursting with laughter.
"No Lina, it doesn't seem that cold in here," Martina said, and then returned to her dress, "I love how it fits; it shows off my beautiful body."
"As if anybody needs to see that anymore," Lina said, rolling off her tongue like an absent thought, "With the way you've been showing it off. I'd be afraid to touch you, if half the stories I've heard are true."
Martina and Zelgadis' jaws dropped at the same time. Zelgadis could barely believe his ears: She made the insult seem so nonchalant, so easy to say. He didn't like Martina, but even he would've pulled that verbal punch. He took a sideways glance at Martina, who had gone from her normal, cheerful face and demeanor to one of bitter anger. The two of them had spent most of their lives fighting, even as children they had bickered and fought over toys and swings in the park.
"Well," Martina started, "At least I have a body that someone would want. Who could ever enjoy that pathetic body of yours? Why, your breasts are so small. Oh, I'm sorry, it looks like you don't have breasts, or a figure, or a halfway passable face."
Zelgadis watched this bombardment in horror. Lina's eyes were closed, but he could see the tension rising in her tightened fists and slightly quivering jaw line.
"Oh, and another thing Lina…"
"Get over it Martina," Zelgadis interrupted, "And besides, you only bring this image upon yourself. Actions speak louder than words."
"Keep out of this," Lina shot to him.
"And what makes you think you have the right to harass us? Just because your father's some big-shot politician and you have money. You make me…"
"Shut up, you, you freak!" Martina shouted at him, "You've always been a freak, just like Valgarv says. One big scar; a giant, ugly scar, that's all you are. You should have died with your parents!"
"Shut up Martina," Zelgadis warned, hands tightening on the table and his teeth clamping tightly, chewing on the scar tissue inside his cheek.
"Nothing but a burned, cut-up freak. Your face looks like someone ran it through a blender!"
"Shut up Martina," he warned again, louder this time, blood coming to a boil. If she did not shut her mouth soon…
"I wonder Zel, are you completely intact, or did you lose something in all those surgeries. It's not a wonder you don't try to get laid!"
"Martina, shove it!" Lina snapped, rising to her feet. Zelgadis stopped gripping the table and looked at Lina, who was tensed to pounce. Why was she standing up for him? No one, except for Xellos, had ever stood up for him after the accident.
"No Inverse, you shove it," Martina screeched back, "Shove it as far as you can get it in."
"Um, did I miss something?" Xellos asked, the three ice creams sitting on the tray he was carrying.
Lina, still angry about Martina's disrespect, grabbed an ice cream dish from the tray and shoved it down the front of Martina's sundress. While Martina sufficiently screamed, Lina laughed, "Here's a little accessory to go with that horrid dress of yours."
Between tears Martina snapped back, "Damn you Lina," a small sob escaped her throat, and she took off for the nearest bathroom, melting vanilla ice cream running down her dress and making it stick to her skin.
Zelgadis' jaw had dropped again. Not only had Lina defended him, but had countered the snobby brat with a punishment that should have been photographed.
"Well done Lina," Zelgadis congratulated, "And thanks."
"Eh, she was being a bitch, and I hate to see people bullied." Lina said, then let out a laugh of delight as Xellos set down her sundae, then sat down with his own, a monstrous sundae with huge portions of chocolate ice cream.
"What the hell is that?" Zelgadis asked, staring at the chocolate mountain that lay before him.
"Chocolate Heart Attack," Xellos announced with delight, "Seven scoops of chocolate ice cream topped with chocolate chunks, both milk and dark chocolate sauce, chocolate jimmies, mini-chocolate chips, brownie bits, and Oreo crumbs." He licked his lips and grabbed a spoon, then realized something, "Oh Zel, I'm sorry, but unless you want to collect your ice cream from Martina, which does sound like it could be fun, you're out of luck." He handed Zelgadis the third spoon.
"Here Zel, you can have part of mine," Lina offered as she pushed her sundae to the middle of the table. Zelgadis smiled thankfully and reached with his spoon, which was promptly parried with hers.
"But keep in mind the majority of it belongs to me. Eat too much and I'll have your hide." Her voice was low and deadly, and Zelgadis watched as her hand suddenly shot to Xellos', laying the plastic surface against his flesh with a hard smack. He didn't understand why she did it until he noticed how close his spoon had been to her sundae.
"I don't care how nice you are Xellos, hands off my sundae."
Zelgadis shuddered. He would take no more than three bites, and the cherry was definitely hers.
