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As The Tables Turn
Chapter Three
Lash climbed out of his mother's car the next day, almost forgetting to grab his bag before he shut the door. His alarm clock had decided it didn't want to work, and his mother had woken him up not five minutes before they had to leave. She'd probably done it on purpose, but he'd never accuse her of it. Just as he was shutting the door, he was able to hear the bell from inside, signaling time for first period. He cursed under his breath and started towards the doors, yanking his schedule from his pocket. He hadn't even had time to try and find Morgan or Marion to see what classes they had.
He wouldn't admit out loud, probably ever, but he liked them -- a little. It was weird, but around them, he felt like he didn't have to impress anybody. In a school full of superheroes, you were stuck spending a lot of the time trying to find out who had the stronger powers. And then the other time was spent trying to prove to others why your power was better. In Sky High you couldn't be too sure about your friends, because maybe they were only your friends because they liked your powers.
As he started up a set of stairs inside, his mind jumped to Speed. Lash hadn't seen him since he'd got out of jail, and he wouldn't lie; he missed the other boy. His parents sure as Hell didn't want them hanging out, so if he mentioned a visit to them they'd probably ground him for even longer. He regretted ever helping out Royal Pain, not because of a change of heart or anything like that, but because he couldn't use the internet unless it was school-related, he couldn't watch TV, he couldn't go anywhere, and his cell phone had been taken away.
He rolled his eyes as he entered the classroom he'd be spending first period B days in -- Astronomy. There were only about thirteen students in the whole class and they were Morgan's type of people. Lash sighed as he walked up to the teacher's desk; Shady Oaks would be the death of him.
English was second period, oh whoopee. First period had been a complete drag, the only highlight being that they were watching a movie on sunspots which meant for Lash -- naptime. Entering the second class of the day, still blinking back his grog, he almost didn't recognize Marion when he saw her. She wore a black Go-Go's tee shirt that made her blend in with everyone else considering what she'd been wearing yesterday. When she caught sight of him from her seat in the back of the room, she threw him a wave, and smiled brightly.
Something inside of Lash seemed to swell up, but he ignored it and nodded at her, allowing a small smirk to fix upon his lips. Then he went to the teacher who was standing at the blackboard, scribbling some kind of drill.
She noticed Lash and quickly dropped the piece of chalk, wiping her hands on the thighs of her black dress pants. "Hello there," she said cheerily. "New student?"
He nodded, and held out his schedule. The elderly woman grabbed it lightly, and turned to the desk grabbing the grade/attendance book to add him to the class list.
"Josh," she said, before cocking an eyebrow up at him, "I'm sure you're sick of hearing this, but do you go by anything else?"
"Yeah actually; Lash." he said quickly.
"L-a-s-h?" she wanted to make sure, and he nodded, before she quickly added that to the list.
As she filled in his student I.D. and all that fun stuff, he looked around. The desks, which were set up in groups of two, went back in three even rows, and most of them were full up. Marion was sitting near the back in the middle row, and as he'd have thought, the desk next to her was empty. She smiled at him again, seeming excited to have him in yet another class.
"Alright Lash," the teacher said, regaining his attention. "I'm Mrs. Marzac, and obviously I'll be your English teacher for the rest of the semester." she handed him back his schedule, and flipped through her book to a seating chart. "Let's find you somewhere to sit." She glanced around the room to find a chipper-looking Marion and she turned to Lash. "How about we sit you next to Marion; she's the best in the class and I'm sure she could help you out since you're new and have yet to get settled." She smiled. "And you seem to know her."
She must've noticed the way he'd relaxed slightly, and he nodded, before she bent to write that down in her book. She straightened and looked to the board.
"Since this in your first class and all," she said, "I doubt you'd be able to answer these questions -- did you have to read Death of a Salesman at your old school?"
Lash shook his head, but remained silent. She nodded, and gave him a small smile again.
"Well I guess we can let today's drill slip." she said, "Just have a seat and relax for a bit."
He turned and quickly made his way to the back of the room. As he reached the two desks where Marion was situated, he almost stopped in his tracks. So much for looking considerably normal -- Marion was wearing the ugliest pants he'd ever seen. They were tight to about the ankles and were a fluorescent shade of a hot magenta -- they were almost blinding. He bit his tongue to keep from commenting and quickly slid into the seat beside her.
"Glad to see you're in another one of my classes," she said brightly, though keeping her tone quiet.
"You and I both." he replied setting his bag on the desk. "God I hate having to do the whole new student thing."
She smirked, and looked down to continue answering the drill questions. Lash threw a small look around to see that everyone else had chosen not to do it -- Marion had been stuck in a class full of sport-os and stoners. Perfect.
"What level English is this?" Lash asked out of the side of his mouth.
A small laugh came from her. "Believe it or not this is a level three class." she said, then her tone lowered. "See, the people here are the type who do nothing in class until the end of the semester when we take finals. Then they magically pass with flying colors."
He nodded, but didn't know what to say. He didn't want to look at her because those damned pants distracted him -- how could anyone like them? Finally, he couldn't hold it in anymore.
"Why the Hell are you wearing those pants?" he asked in a hushed tone.
She burst out laughing, and he tensed as the whole class turned to look at them. He felt an unnatural heat crawl up his neck, and he gave glares to a few of the people looking. The teacher however, was completely engrossed in whatever she was doing. Marion calmed down and raised her eyebrows at him, before tugging at one of his sleeves.
"Why are you wearing striped sleeves?" she questioned.
Lash shrugged and without thinking answered, "Because I like them."
She grinned, before going back to work and he found himself rolling his eyes, and once again asking himself how anyone could like those pants. As she was finishing her work, he found himself watching what she was writing. Her handwriting was swirly and big, reflecting her always cheerful mood -- and the answers sounded extremely intelligent. It was practically sickening; she was probably a straight A student, and had probably been one since grade school.
She dropped her pen and turned to him, eyes lighting up just slightly. "It's good you're here," she said, "Mrs. Marzac said we'd be starting a project soon -- where we could pick partners." She paused briefly, gaze flickering down. "I usually work by myself," she said slowly, "But now that you're in my class you could work with me."
He smirked. "You automatically assume I'd want to be your partner." he said.
For a split second she was offended, but as he cocked an eyebrow at her, she realized he was joking and laughed again. Only about one or two people looked this time, but Lash ignored them.
"What's the project?" he asked, sliding down in his seat some and stretching his legs out in front of him.
She shrugged. "I don't know," she admitted. "I bet it has something to do with the book we're gonna start today."
"Which is?"
"The Grapes of Wrath."
Lash groaned in the back of his throat. He'd never read it, but he'd heard enough to not want to read it.
"Oh come on," Marion said, lightly hitting his arm. "It's a great piece of American literature; it's a classic, it's --" her voice trailed off at the skeptic look he was giving her and she grinned. "Well okay, it's about three hundred pages longer than it needs to be."
He grinned, but they both fell silent as Mrs. Marzac stood up. She neared them quickly, pulling at the ring of keys she kept hooked to her beltloop -- almost reminiscent of a security guard, which made Lash think of Speed again -- he'd have to find a way to visit him sooner or later.
"Oh, good Marion -- you're done. I knew you would be." Mrs. Marzac held up one of the keys to the blonde, and sighed. "I hate to do this to you, but I was supposed to pick up a few books from the storage room earlier. I didn't get around to it, but I need them for today's class."
Marion took the key almost happily. "No problem." she said standing up.
Lash's eyes almost widened in horror at the pants, but he ignored the color for a moment to appreciate how tight they were on her.
"Now, let's see -- you'll need someone to help you with them." Mrs. Marzac looked around to find someone else who was done.
"Uh, I'll do it." Lash said shortly.
She glanced at him while Marion smiled in slight gratitude; it was obvious she hadn't wanted any of the other people coming with her. Stoner or sport-o -- definitely a no-no.
"Are you sure?" Mrs. Marzac asked, "It's your first day."
He nodded quickly. "Yeah, yeah." he stood up. "I don't mind at all." Truth be told, he didn't want to be stuck with the rest of the class either.
"Great." Mrs. Marzac said to him, then to Marion. "Grapes of Wrath, alright?" Marion nodded. "I don't know how many are in there, there should be a box somewhere -- I want them all, but don't hurt yourselves."
They both nodded, and Mrs. Marzac went back to her desk. Marion threw a raised eyebrow at Lash before they started for the door. Outside the classroom, the hallway was dark and empty, and again Lash mused to himself over the extreme differences between Sky High and Shady Oaks.
"Thanks for coming with me." Marion said lightly as she led him to the storage room. "I would've hated to see who she'd pick if not."
He shrugged casually, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Better than sitting there doing nothing." he said.
She smirked to herself and unlocked the heavy door, before pushing it open. She stepped aside to let him in first, but for one of the first times in his life, Lash did something nice and gentlemanly -- he gestured for her to go first. As she did, he shook his head at himself. If only the people at Sky High could see him now; he'd never hear the end of it.
"Does she always make you do things for her?" he asked as they moved into the dimly lit room.
Shelves lined the walls, and old, dusty books lined the shelves. Marion grinned as she squinted at the books, trying to find the right one.
"She doesn't make me." she said, "I like doing things for her; she's the nicest teacher here, that's for sure."
He nodded, but didn't say anything as he followed slowly behind her. He wasn't looking for The Grapes of Wrath, instead leaving her to find it on her own -- no more nice and gentlemanly for him. Marion let out a short groan-like noise, and he glanced at her. Her gaze was locked on the highest shelf where, lo-and-behold, sat the Steinbeck classic.
"You'd think with it being in the curriculum they'd have it down lower." Marion grumbled to herself as she went to find something to stand on.
Lash grinned -- if this girl's biggest problem was not reaching a book or two in school, she seriously needed to get out more. His gaze returned to the two small stacks of books, and he wished that he was able to use his powers, just this once. Not only would he get the books, but it might even impress Marion -- he quickly pushed that thought from his mind. The last thing he needed was a crush on a weird, normal girl.
A sigh and Marion returned, walking like she was bowlegged as she carried a chair in front of her. She set it down in front of the shelf, and brushed the dust from it, before looking around again. She grabbed an empty box from the floor and handed it to Lash, but said nothing. Then she climbed up onto the chair.
One of the legs was slightly shorter than the rest, and it wobbled. She let out a short noise and grabbed the back of the chair as if she'd fall a million feet into lava if she were to slip.
"Lash," she said, "Could you hold the chair for me -- wobbly chairs scare the crap out of me."
His brow furrowed and he grabbed the back of the chair with one hand, the empty box in the other. "Are you serious?" he asked.
"Don't judge me." she said, straightening and reaching for the top shelf.
The magenta pants blinded Lash again and he raised his eyebrows. Already have. A moment later two books fell from the shelf and landed into the box, almost taking it completely out of Lash's loose grasp.
"Hey," he said, "Next time give me warning or something."
She glanced down and flashed him a small grin, before dropping some more books into the box. He rolled his eyes, and found his gaze wandering. He vaguely wished that she was wearing what she had been the day before; that skirt had been reasonably short. She suddenly turned, and he quickly averted his gaze.
"That's all of them." she said, sounding accomplished.
Lash glanced down at the box; it'd looked like so much more when they were on the shelf. "I hope she has more in the classroom." he said -- there definitely wasn't enough.
Marion shrugged and started to step down from the chair. The cheap boots she was wearing however, didn't have a good enough grip on the plastic chair, and she started to fall. Lash's first instinct was to step out of the way and let her land on her face; but she was his 'friend'; so instead he decided to try and catch her. But he spent too much time thinking about it, and not enough time actually doing it.
She fell into him and like in the movies, they toppled to the ground together with her on top. Books flew from the box as Lash let go of it, and unintentionally placed his hands on her hips. A sharp pain in his back erupted as it made contact with the floor and he winced slightly.
She placed her hands on his chest, and took a deep breath.
"Wow," she said, "Good thing you were here."
Lash made a face. "Well gee thanks," he said, "Glad I could be of service."
"I'm just kidding," she said with a laugh. "But thanks -- it wouldn't have felt too good to do a face-dive in here."
He shrugged as best as he could on the floor. "Don't mention it." He said.
A silence blanketed them and they were left staring at each other. It was then that Lash realized how close they actually were; their bodies were pressed tightly together, and the fact that he could feel her heartbeat stirred something in him, a feeling of sorts.
His eyes suddenly widened -- it wasn't a feeling that was stirring, it was something else. Marion mirrored him, her eyes widening as well -- apparently she could feel it too.
"Get up, get up!" he squawked, and she jumped up.
He scrambled to his feet, and turned away from her, shoulders squared and cheeks burning. This was not how he wanted to appear around her; he didn't need to embarrass himself like so, what was wrong with him? Normally he was calm and collected, normally he wasn't so...excited.
He slowly looked down and sighed irritably.Then he glanced over his shoulder at her. Marion was hugging herself, and although her back was to him, it was obvious in her body language how embarrassed she was too. He lowered his gaze mindlessly and discovered how low her pants were; her shirt had been pulled up in the chaos, and the top of a pair of white panties were showing.
As if she had eyes in the back of her head, Marion pulled her shirt down, and Lash spun back to facing the wall, mentally kicking himself. Looking at some chick's rear was not helping the situation.
"I'm sorry." she said quickly, and it almost sounded robotic.
He glanced over his shoulder again to find her looking at him; her cheeks were flushed like his, as if she'd been the one whose body had reacted. He tried to play it casual and shrugged again. "Don't be." he said. "It happens all the time." He closed his eyes and sighed. "I mean, it doesn't happen all the time." he said. "I mean, I don't walk around and randomly sport it or anything. I just...it wasn't because of you or anything."
She nodded slowly, and a half-smirk played on her lips. "Storage rooms are just that exciting, huh?"
He felt his face flush again, and he spun once more, letting out a noise that could've been considered a growl of sorts.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Marion said quickly. "Not helping."
She dropped to the floor and started gathering the books that had spilled as Lash tried to take even breaths. He tried to think of anything that would reverse the project; baseball. A guy's running around the field, yeah. Nothing exciting about that. But then he thought of Marion playing baseball.
"There we go." Marion said, her normal bright facade coming back to her as she stood, and picked up the box.
Without another word she started for the door.
"What are you doing!" Lash exclaimed.
She looked at him as if he'd grown three more heads. "Going back to class."
"We can't!" he hissed.
"Why not?"
He gestured to his lower half with an annoyed snort, and she seemed incredulous.
"It's not gone yet?" she asked.
He sighed, and rolled his eyes. "It doesn't exactly go away on it's own terms." he said.
"So what, you have to coax it or something?" she asked.
Lash groaned. "Please, Marion -- stop talking." he said. "This is embarrassing enough as it is."
Marion sighed, but said nothing, looking at the floor. Lash closed his eyes, and forced her out of his mind. The next person to appear was Speed. His best friend no doubt, but a disgusting slob of a guy. He remembered this one time when Speed had entered a pie-eating contest; God did Lash want to throw up that day -- and he hadn't even been in the contest. It'd been so gross to watch all those overly obese people scarfing down pies of every flavor.
When Lash opened his eyes and looked down, he let out a small sigh of relief. He glanced back at Marion who was now sitting in the wobbly chair that had caused all this mess, box in her lap and looking quite bored. Lash wondered how long he'd spent trying to get rid of the unwanted company, but said nothing as he started for the door.
"It's gone?" Marion asked from the chair.
Without turning to her he said, "This gets repeated to no one."
After the incident in the storage room, it'd been hard for Lash to get comfortable around Marion again, and by the time English had ended, he'd been glad.
"Maybe I'll see you later." she'd said with a sympathetic look.
Lash had mumbled something of the like, before hurrying off to find his third period. Since he had Art, he had A lunch. He crossed his fingers and hoped to find Morgan there, but after at least five minutes of searching the whole cafeteria, he found no sight of the bird-watcher.
"Hey."
He turned to see a girl sitting by herself at a table. She was one of those stereotypical mall goths, dressed in black bondage pants and a Cradle of Filth shirt. Her hair which had been dyed black (and whoever had done it had done a horrible job) was in a messy ponytail, and a large nosering glinted on her right nostril. Lash almost wrinkled his nose at her -- didn't the black lipstick go out of style in the early nineties?
"You're friends with Rainbow Brite and the birdboy, aren't you?" she asked.
She had a way of talking that could drive a person mad; like she was some sort of badass. The nosering was probably fake.
"So what if I am?" he asked defensively.
She smirked. "Just wondering, man -- chill out." She studied him for a moment. "They really aren't the type of people I'd expect you to be hanging out with."
"You don't know anything about me." Lash sneered.
Still smirking she shook her head. "No, I guess not." she said, "But I do know that if you continue to hang out with them, you're in for a world of trouble, man."
He rolled his eyes. "What? Are you my trouble?" he asked.
"I'm just trying to help you out." she said. "Before you know it the jocks'll be shoving you in lockers, and locking you into janitor closets."
"They were locked in closets?" he asked.
"Not him." the goth answered, "That I know of. But I saw Andy Riley lock her in a closet. A teacher had asked her to get something for him, and Andy stole the keys and shoved her in there." she laughed in glee at this memory. "She knocked for hours."
Lash paused, unable to know if he should believe her or not. "And you didn't let her out?" he asked.
"I didn't have keys." the stranger replied, "And I was far too comfortable to find someone with a set."
Lash snorted and shook his head, but he didn't know what to say. He didn't know anything about this girl, but he didn't want to. He turned and started to walk away.
"Can't say I didn't warn you!" she called after him.
He left the cafeteria and headed for the library, gritting his teeth because he knew the reason he didn't like that girl was because her attitude reminded him of himself.
Lash sighed as he sat down on the bench in the locker room. Fourth period, gym class -- how exciting. He'd already talked to the teacher, Coach Houser. He was a rough man with dark skin and had a habit of spitting when he talked. He'd told Lash that even if he didn't have a uniform he'd have to participate today. Lash'd wanted to get away from this man so much he'd forgotten to say he preferred to be called Lash -- this would be fun.
"You're in this class!"
An overly-excited voice made him jump, and he spun to find Morgan pulling one of the Shady Oaks gym shirts over his head at a locker a few feet away. Lash felt a smirk come to his face -- at least he knew someone.
"Guess so." he said, sliding down the bench until he was closer to Morgan. "I'm glad to see a familiar face here."
Morgan nodded quickly and shut the locker he was at -- he was already wearing the ugly maroon shorts that were a part of their uniforms. He sat down next to Lash to retie his shoes.
"Is Coach Houser really as hard as he seems?" Lash asked.
Morgan made a face. "If you aren't good at sports he is." he said gloomily. "He hates me just because I have asthma."
Lash almost laughed; this kid was perfect. What was it with Shady Oaks and their stereotypes? Morgan suddenly brightened.
"But guess what," he said. "Marion's in this class too."
The memory of second period flooded back to him and Lash's stomach knotted up. "Oh...great." he said, but Morgan didn't notice the unease in his tone.