Chapter One Hundred and Forty Four

...

Pat tried not to be nervous as he waited for the frog squad to arrive. They'd spent the weekend talking when they weren't kissing and he didn't know which he wanted to occur now on the way to school. Maybe both.

"You are nervous, Master Patrick."

"No, I'm not. Shut up."

"Sweat glands are like hips, Master Patrick: they don't lie."

"Shut up, Nigel."

"Of course, Master Patrick."

Maleah stuck her head in the door and grinned. "Good morning!"

"Get in the car already," Kiara groaned somewhere behind her.

Maleah rolled her eyes and slipped into the car, sitting in her usual window seat. Kiara sat on her usual seat, curling an arm around Lorcan and promptly falling asleep. Lorcan rolled his eyes and used one hand to put his headphones on awkwardly. Najair shook his head and adjusted the headphones for his brother, Lorcan smiling broadly.

"Close the door so we can leave, please."

"Sorry, Nigel."

"Good morning, Nigel. Did you have a good evening?" Maleah asked. "Do cars dream?"

"Yes. Electric sheep."

Maleah giggled. Pat tried not to feel too put off that they were just doing their normal routine and not paying him extra attention. It sounded clingy and needy.

"You okay, Pat?"

"Fine, why?"

"Cause you've been glaring at that door like it offended your Mam," Najair said, shuffling a deck of cards and dealing between him and Maleah.

"Oh. Uh... no, I'm fine."

"We can see that," Maleah said, giving him a once over.

"What?"

He received a text a few seconds later, Pat glancing at Lorcan's message and wondering why he couldn't just say it aloud.

Lorcan: you look cute in that kilt ;)

Najair: are you still chafing? I can check for you.

He'd only felt a brief spike in lust last night around nine; Pat didn't know if Layla and Warren had worn the cuffs or gained that much control that fast and, so long as he slept soundly, he truly didn't care.

Maleah: we all had a very good sleep; Lore sang us to sleep ;)

Kiara: Shut up, I'm sleeping.

Kiara: Want to be my pillow, Pat?

Oh, god. This was going to be the best car trip he'd ever had in his life.

"Master Patrick, your heart rate has increased. Are you well?" Nigel asked, sounding innocent but Pat knew that he knew he was fine, and glared at the roof.

"Shut up, Nigel."

"Of course, Master Patrick."

...

Magenta had repented so much over the last week that she was sure her future sins were already absolved.

She'd gone to church every day, went to the soup kitchen twice, and even removed the Crimson Love Letter from the Internet, just like her mother had asked.

Okay, she'd changed the posts from public to private drafts, but it was still the same thing.

Principal Powers had wanted to see both Magenta and her mother before school started, so they'd arrived at Sky High super early. Magenta answered Principal Powers' questions, ensuring that she looked and sounded contrite.

Her voice coach had been surprised at her dedication to sounding sweet and innocent, but it worked. She'd even managed to get out of the soup kitchen duty the third time because of her training.

"I'd like to talk to your mother for a moment. Can you wait in the waiting area, please?"

"Of course, Principal Powers," Magenta replied with a sweet smile, leaving the office.

She played on her phone while she was waiting, tugging on her uncomfortably long sleeves and stretching legs around the long material of her pants. The heat suppressors she was taking meant she couldn't rumblestrut anymore - Justina's threat still made her shudder - but there were human ways of showing dominance that worked far better. One of the girly magazines had said to dress like your partner so she was practically covered from head to toe, just like Lorcan.

She knew that he would see her outfit and fall in love with her all over again.

...

Craig grinned and practically launched himself at the frog squad, Lorcan catching him. "I knew you'd catch me. Whatcha doing?"

"Carrying you, apparently. I was trying to get ready for class."

Craig thought about it, then grinned. "Fine, let me down and keep getting ready. Magenta will be out in a minute."

Lorcan practically dropped Craig to gather his things. "Ready. Hide me?"

"I've got a better idea," Craig said with a wink.

...

Mrs. Yolanda didn't look entirely pleased as she left Principal Powers' office, but she hadn't looked pleased all morning. She spent a few minutes hugging her daughter and checking she had food and ensuring Magenta would behave - one more slip and she would be expelled - and asking yet again why she was wearing so much clothing when it was such a nice day outside.

"Mama, I'm fine. I just felt like wearing this outfit. I've got a change of clothes in my bag if I get too hot, just like you said," Magenta added.

"Okay, querida. I just worry," Mrs. Yolanda replied, her voice thick.

Magenta smiled. "I know, Mama. I'm a grown woman, I can take care of myself."

Mrs. Yolanda bit back a comment at that - her daughter couldn't even cook without supervision, so she was definitely not able to take care of herself! - and smiled. "Of course, querida. You be good. I will make fajitas for dinner tonight," she said, patting her daughter's arm.

"Oh, thank you. They're my favourite!"

"Si, I know. But only if you are good," Mrs. Yolanda said firmly, leaving for the parking lot.

Magenta grinned and waved. Fajitas and Lorcan? Could today get any better?!

Turning to head to her lockers, Magenta's foot caught on a thread from her jeans. She tumbled head over heels, shifting abruptly into her guinea pig form to avoid hurting herself. Magenta landed in soft material, squeaking in alarm as she made her way out of the darkness and towards the light.

Somehow, she'd shifted without her clothes!

If she could blush in her shifted form, Magenta would have been bright red from her ears to her tail. Darting for the nearest dark space, Magenta huddled in the corner, her heart pounding so loudly it almost drowned out the sound of the locker door closing with a heavy gust of wind. Darkness swallowed her and she let out a squeak of distress as she heard the lock spin and clunk closed.

Someone had to save her! Maybe Lorcan would. Oh god, she was going to be naked in front of him. That wasn't until step twenty-three!

"Hello? A little help in here!" Magenta squeaked, trying to sound calm, but her heart was beating too rapidly for her to tell.

"Let her out!"

Her saviour! Sound was distorted in the locker and darkness and over her pounding heart. Still, she was sure it was Lorcan!

Light filled the small space, blinding her for the moment. Magenta stepped out in her human form, collapsing against her saviour.

"I knew you'd find me," she said, her voice breathless and lustful.

"Uh, Maj? You're practically naked," Will whispered, face red as he realised she was only wearing underwear.

Magenta's eyes flew open. Will had found her?! Where was Lorcan? Looking up and down the hallway, she saw Lorcan walking with Adam, Craig and Ryuu, and completely ignoring the crowd that had gathered behind them. The crowd that was seeing her naked!

Shifting to her guinea pig form again, Magenta scurried up Will's leg until he picked her up and settled her on his shoulder. "Get my clothes, please?"

"Where are they?" Will asked, looking around.

From Will's shoulder Magenta could see out the window. Two long swathes of material were blowing out in the distance, both of which she'd been wearing only minutes ago.

"I have spare clothes in my bag."

Will didn't question her and headed to Magenta's locker. "You're lucky I heard you in there, Maj. Mr. Boy went to get the locker key from the janitor; if he was faster, he would've seen you in your bra and underwear, not me."

Eww.

...

Josie flicked through the mail - bill, bill, dentist reminder, bill - and frowned as she saw another bill from an unfamiliar address.

Veruca? That was the name of their voice coach - in fact, she had suggested the woman to Magenta only weeks ago.

Veruca was a horrible woman, always demanding payment upfront and making Josie wait months before she booked in a lesson for Will. Will had seen Veruca for the basic five lessons, and Josie wished he hadn't learnt as well as he had. His... nightly activities were now loud enough to be heard in the secret sanctum.

For all that Veruca was a horrible woman, she certainly taught people how to project their voices, Josie mused. Josie opened the envelope, wondering if it was a letter rather than a bill. Maybe Veruca had sent early Christmas cards this year? A bill? For more than the basic package, at that? Why on earth would her son want to "sound like Lustful?" Will wouldn't want that, Josie thought incredulously.

She saw the name the bill was addressed to - Magenta - and thought that maybe her son would want that, after all.

Stupid men and their stupid libidos over stupid women!

...

Honey checked her paperwork for a third time, ensuring everything was correct. Credit cards, social security number, passports, forged student records, birth certificates, bank accounts, and everything else that was needed for a person to become reborn in the world. Forged documents were usually for one person, a couple, or perhaps a family; Honey was creating documents for twenty-six different people, and only two were related. It was exceptionally difficult to keep track of, hence her third check.

On her desk, her coffee had gone cold, and the ice water she'd requested that morning had melted, the glass was ready to overflow with the slightest tremor.

There was a knock at the door, startling Honey, and her water spilled. Honey grabbed the paperwork and documents as fast as possible, watching the water as it spread into a lake across her desk. Her reflection distorted in the tremors of water, the room changing in the water from warm and familiar chocolate and mocha colours of the Labyrinth office to bright white and hospital olive.

A child's face looked at her directly, hair shaved in clumps, nodes attached to temples, wires attached to nodes, wires attached to generators. Their young eyes widened and their mouth dropped in a soundless scream that Honey felt in her own chest. As their eyes rolled back in their chest, Honey reached out for the child, hating her feelings of helplessness and pain at seeing them tortured.

"Oh, shit. Sorry, Honey. I'll get paper towels. You've got tissues, right?" Sarah asked, already leaving to get paper towels to dry the mess.

She returned in a matter of minutes, only to see Honey wiping her tears, and her arms suspiciously devoid of the bundles of paper she'd held a moment earlier. Sarah knew better than to ask and simply focused on drying the mess.

"Sorry, Sarah. You came to see me about something?"

"Just wondering if you know when Jared and I are meant to get married? Our mothers - as well as your mother, Edith, and Hyacinth - were so adamant about us getting married, but now they can't decide on a date to save their lives. What the hell's going on?"

"Betting pool," Honey said, Sarah groaning in response. "You had your own bet for Connor and Victor dating, what did you expect they were going to do when you're actually getting married?"

"We're already married, Honey; we don't need to do it again if they're going to be ridiculous about it."

"Tell them that, not me."

"Ugh, fine. I'm going to look like the bad guy, aren't I?"

"One person's bad guy is another person's good guy."

"Oh, shut up," Sarah muttered. "What are the odds?"

"You can't bet on your own damn wedding... reception, whatever," Honey said, rolling her eyes.

"Connor bet on him and Victor."

"Ooh, good point. Edith broke her own rules for that one," Honey mused. "She'll allow one, I'd go with the vacation spot for your fifth year anniversary."

"Seriously?"

"Well, the funeral one is a bit morbid, and besides, you wouldn't be able to collect it."

"Is that why Babel's been asking Jared about funeral plans? For fuck's sakes, he's been freaking out about it for two weeks!" Sarah said. "So, where are we going for our fifth year anniversary?"

"Labyrinth theme park."

"A what now?"

Honey grinned at Sarah's expression. "I know, right? They're supposed to start building it next year."

"It seems like a very niche market."

"Well, it's technically a Muppets theme park, but it'll be known as the Labyrinth theme park after Labyrinth's exclusive grand tour. No, you're not going on it; we have to send Thompson for their cover."

"Goddamn Thomspon, how come he always gets to report the theme parks?"

"He majored in architecture and, besides, his super ego is Roller. He can literally move as fast as a rollercoaster."

"Only while wearing roller skates!"

Honey shrugged. "The public likes his articles, and Thompson has his own roller coaster rating system; you don't know how fast a three-wheel roller skate down Russian Hills is."

Sarah winced. "I went on that Puke-rocket roller coaster once based on that rating and threw up twice."

"Everyone did. That's why it closed down."

Sarah looked vaguely nauseous and wrinkled her nose. Throwing the wet wad of paper towels in Honey's bin, she looked around to find the tissue box in case she needed to replace it after the mess they'd cleaned up. She saw papers sticking out of Honey's filing cabinet - Honey was usually pedantic about keeping the cabinet neat and she realised where the armful of documents had been poorly hidden - and glanced at Honey's red puffy eyes. Sarah sighed and hugged her friend, tight and brief. "I'll make sure you get dinner, okay?"

"Thanks, Sarah. I'd prefer Japanese over Italian, please."

"Fine, I'll get the pizza for myself, then."

Honey laughed and shooed Sarah out of her office, locking the door behind her, and opening her filing cabinet to check the documents for a fourth time and ensure none were damaged by the spilled water.

...

Fisher looked over the documents, flipping back and forth as he tried to reconcile what he read with what he was seeing in front of him.

"Fisher, what are you doing now?" Mia asked, a sigh escaping.

Her partner was brilliant, but ever since the precinct had been ravaged by the flu, Fisher had been acting weird. He hardly talked on his phone or radio, just using short bursts of information and looking hesitant even then, and spent more time writing by hand than it did for the conversation to end.

Still, he'd managed to tell her in one of his write-and-tells that he thought someone was listening to their conversations. Mia wondered if the flu could make someone become a conspiracy theorist, and was contemplating requesting a transfer to another partner. The only reason she avoided doing that was because Fisher really was a great detective, and she'd hate to go from brilliant but crazy to a sexist and racist detective like Tyrone. The very thought made her shudder in revulsion and she kept with Fisher for another day, another week, learning to guess what he was trying to say or write - he alternated between excessive cursive that no one could read to straight block letters that took him an age to write - with moderate success.

Mia wondered, not for the first time, if Fisher was doing it as a way to train her to be a better detective. She certainly felt like she was seeing things differently and more clearly when she was forced to see through his eyes. Determined to keep thinking of it that way, at least for her sanity, Mia looked from the manilla folder Fisher was holding to the empty storage container.

"Tell me what you see," Fisher said, handing the folder over to her.

"A report?" Mia guessed, Fisher not looking impressed as he waved at her to continue. Taking a deep breath - it was just to make her a better detective, she reminded herself - Mia looked at the paper again. "A report of Greta Auden's storage unit, number 9, completed by the company last June."

"And, what else?"

"They sprayed the unit to stop bugs from getting inside, checked security, moved the storage box blocking the fire extinguisher to ensure it kept to safety standards. Greta told them in... very descriptive terms what she would do to them if anything was damaged. That's not fair, they were just doing their jobs," Mia muttered.

"Now, tell me what you see when you look at the storage container," Fisher said, as though he was the one losing patience.

"An empty unit... So where's the box they moved? Greta didn't come here between June and her death, according to the visitor log."

"Call the other storage units, see if they have visitor logs and any similar reports that they sent to Greta. I've got a hunch that this won't be the only empty one, and I'll bet my last dollar that none of them were empty when those reports were done. I'm going to check the cameras," Fisher said, rushing off with an energy that belied his age.

Mia looked from the report to the unit to the retreating back of her partner. Brilliant but crazy, just as she'd thought.

...

Josie wandered the store, smiling genially when passing other shoppers. She was wearing her glasses and her alter ego was firmly in place. She was just another mother shopping for her child, and it was only natural that she would look at the toy section.

Pardon, the action figure section, she amended, Steve's mutter in her mind.

Eye level shelves held action figures of herself and the Commander, just as it should be. The shelf below was Airborne, Shifter still on the shelves as well, though with significantly less space than Airborne's figures. Wondering if that meant the dolls were selling, Josie looked at the size of the packages to determine how many should fit on a shelf.

"'Scuse!" a young voice piped from near her knees.

Josie looked down and smiled at the child. "Can I help you?"

"I want that," he demanded, pointing to an action figure on a lower shelf.

It was a shelf that was at his eye level, rather than hers, and Josie had to step back to see it properly, hoping it wasn't Robot Warrior. Lady Peregrine's toy was all right, if she had to concede to another super, but it certainly wasn't Jetstream's action figure with removable cape and pull string to say her top ten sayings. (That reminded her, she needed to say a few on air or people would think she truly didn't match her action figure, and Josie couldn't have that!)

As soon as Josie was out of the way, the small child darted forward and grabbed the box, hugging it to his chest. It wasn't one of their red, white, and blue official Stronghold boxes.

"Wait. Don't you want a Jetstream toy? Or the Commander? What about Airborne? Or Shifter?" she asked, almost desperately.

"No, they stink!"

She didn't stink, thank you very much!, and Josie was fairly positive that they hadn't released a scented action figure.

The boy ran off to his parents with an excited high-pitched babble of noise.

Josie crouched down and saw the toy, her face paling as she saw the box.

Who had given Earthstone his own action figure and, more importantly, why?

Standing abruptly, Josie left the store. She tried to keep her pace to a human stride, not to mention on the ground, muttering under her breath and people swerving out of her way as she stalked over to her car. As soon as she was seated, ignoring the urge to fly and work out her excess energy, Josie called Will.

"Will, why the hell does Earthstone have an action figure?" she asked as soon as he'd picked up. "The action figures for Jetstream and the Commander are - "

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Stronghold, this is Mr. Medulla," he interrupted. "Your call is currently on speakerphone to ensure this is an emergency, as your son has assured me. Is there an emergency? Have the Commander and Jetstream action figures come to life and taken over a shopping store?" Medulla asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Um... No, they haven't. I must have dialled the wrong number."

"You said your son's name, Mrs. Stronghold."

Josie turned bright red and stammered something, ending the call abruptly.

Mr. Medulla levelled Will with a glare. "I suggest you ask your mother to tell you about personal issues like that in person at home, rather than on the phone."

"Hey, Mr. M? If I get someone to call me, can you answer my phone, too?"

"The class has already been delayed once, Mr. Forge."

"Next time?" Craig asked hopefully, Adam and Ry shaking their heads beside him.

"No."

...

"Good morning, Stronghold Realtors, this is Steve Stronghold."

"Hiya, Stevie. I'm lookin' to buy that building out on First Ave. This lady's givin' me a real good deal and I want you to do me one better."

Steve hurried to flip through his book of properties, trying to find the one the caller had mentioned. "The... I'm sorry, do you mean the skyscraper on First Avenue? There are several hundred office spaces in there, do you know which one you - "

"No, no. Not one office space, Stevie, I'm lookin' to buy the building itself."

"The what? I... I'm not sure that's possible, I mean... Can I call you back?" Steve asked a little desperately, hoping he could call Josie and ask her what to do. He'd never had anyone want to buy a whole skyscraper before and was at a loss as to what to do.

"You've got three minutes, Stevie. This Trixie lady's drawin' up my paperwork to offer to the investors, an' it's lookin' sweet."

"Right, of course. Your number?" Steve prompted.

He scrawled the phone number, ended the call, and called Josie.

If he got this deal, Josie would do that thing he liked, he was sure of it. They'd go to Hawaii again and Josie would be happy and Will would think he was so cool because he'd sold a whole building. A really tall one, not like a house building, of course.

"Josie? Josie, someone's called asking to buy the skyscraper on First Avenue. The whole thing, what do I do?"

Josie's eyes widened at Steve's frantic tone, barely parsing his words, and then understood. "Holy shit. Call them back, say you'll organise a meeting with the investors. Say we're handling it, not the Stronghold's. Use anything you have to do to get them to meet with us. I'll be right there."

"I have... two minutes before he signs with... uh, Trixie," Steve said, wincing.

"That's not fair! Call and stall them, I'll deal with Trixie myself," Josie said, ending the call and pushing the speed limit.

Steve's hands shook as he dialled their number. Stall, he could do that. He did that all the time, he could... Shit, he broke the phone again.

Opening his desk drawer, Steve unplugged his broken phone and plugged in the new phone, a message appearing stating the system was setting up and his patience was appreciated. His patience was worn thin, and Steve moved over to Josie's desk, grabbing her receiver and dialling, carefully, this time.

"Stevie, I'm hopin' that's you with good news?"

"I'm going to organise a meeting with the building investors and... the Commander will be there. So will Jetstream, of course, and there's... food. And beer, and... hookers?"

Silence met him and Steve could feel the sweat gathering under his armpits.

"Mr. Stronghold, my name is Mr. Veers, and I am one of the board members for the Realtor's Council. This was meant to be a test to see how you would handle a competitor's sale and the unrealistic deadline I set for you. I have to say that in all of my years dealing with realtors, none have ever offended me as much as you have in the last thirty seconds."

Oh, fuck.

"I... uh, I... This is a prank call?" Steve said, hoping Mr. Veers would believe him. He was going to hang up, but then he heard his wife's voice on the other end of the call.

Josie arrived at Trixie's Realtor Service, this damn close to flying inside, and stormed over to Trixie's desk. Ignoring the cries of surprise that surrounded her and the people that attempted to call out to her, Josie glared down at Trixie. "This is the last straw! How dare you steal a whole building from me! This is unforgivable, Trixie, and I'll report you to the Realtor's Council!"

The man sitting at Trixie's desk was on the phone and seemed to be interested in the proceedings, but not enough to end his call, of course.

Trixie smiled at Josie. "Please, be my guest, Josie. I would like to know what you'd tell them, considering it's not possible for me to steal a building from you. We're competitive realtors, not enemies."

"That skyscraper is a Council building and we have a contract with the Mayor to ensure we get government-owned buildings first! You can't sell the whole building, anyway! There are investors who've each bought office spaces to lease out at a higher profit than they'd get for selling to a single person. Besides, why would anyone want to buy a whole skyscraper?" Josie asked, getting more breathless and hysterical as she tried to stop this whole debacle. "Would you get off your phone? If you're going to buy a whole damn building, at least explain why!"

The man smiled thinly and stood up, slipping his phone into his pocket. "I don't have to explain myself to you."

Josie's eyes widened at the man's tone. Didn't this man know who she was? She'd show him! And she'd show Trixie, too, standing there and watching her with that damn smug smile and fake teeth and fake everything else!

Jetstream stood in the office a moment later, hands on her hips to Control a Situation. "This is a matter of Maxville's security, which is the real business of superheroes. Now, villain, why do you want to buy the skyscraper? Is it for nefarious purposes?"

Trixie's phone rang, shrill in the stunned silence, and she patted on her desk to find it since she didn't dare tear her gaze away from this train wreck. "Trixie speaking. Oh, Honey. Really, right now? All right, I'll set it up."

Jetstream barely glanced at her, staring the villain down, but her lip curled in derision at the term of endearment; she would never call her clients 'honey'. It was informal and totally unprofessional.

The villain adjusted his tie briefly - he was obviously the cruelest of villains with a black tie like that - and smiled at Jetstream even more briefly. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Stronghold. My name is Mr. Veers, and I am one of the board committee members for the Realtor's Council."

Jetstream's pose faltered, her arms fell from her sides, and her face morphed from triumph to horror.

...

"Jetstream has become the new reaction meme for the dawning horror of realisation. Jetstream embarrassed herself in public today after revealing her identity to a room full of citizens at Trixie's Realtor Service. This has occurred less than a month after her son revealed his own identity at a barbecue for renowned local architect, Curtis Spattle, and - "

Will turned off Maxville's Evening News, his cheeks red at the sight and sound of Tasha, and needing to calm down before Magenta arrived for their date. He was trying to make up for his thoughts about Ry by showing everyone - himself, his mother, Magenta, anyone at the school who gossiped and speculated - that he wasn't gay.

He'd considered getting flowers delivered to Magenta in class, but flowers were kind of Layla's thing and Will didn't want people thinking of him and her, so he'd tried to organise a gift basket to be delivered. It had led to Mr. Medulla catching him on his phone, his mother calling, and her embarrassing thing about Larry getting an action figure.

Will didn't even get why Larry had an action figure. All he'd done was pick up three thugs and drop them in front of the cops. He'd done that a thousand times over!

The doorbell rang and Will flew downstairs to meet Magenta at the door. She was dressed in a purple shirt and dark purple jeans, boots on her feet with purple laces. Will noticed the boots looked worn and had a hole, but didn't want to look ignorant by pointing it out; Magenta's punk outfits usually had holes in them, right?

"You're wearing glasses," Magenta said in surprise.

Will looked cute wearing them, kind of like a younger and fairer Superman as his alter ego. Holy spandex, she was dating a real-life Superman!

Magenta had read the Superman comics covertly, of course, just like everyone else. Not only had the Jetstream and the Commander's comics outstripped and outsold most comics, but Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster had been sued by Captain Stronghold when they released their Superman comic in 1939 due to their character's uncanny likeness to the super.

Superman was obviously based on Captain Stronghold with an additional power to fly, and it was debasing to everything he had done for humanity, the media had stated, a public outcry following.

Despite the court order and most copies being destroyed, a few had survived. Recently, someone had put them up online, the comics making the rounds of most schools in whispered conversations. Magenta thought that Superman was kind of cute, even if his backstory of being an alien from outer space was just weird.

"Yeah, Mum and Dad are making me wear them to help with my disguise. It really helps. You should get a pair to help your disguise in public, too," Will said. Seeing that Mr. and Mrs. Yolanda were still waiting in their car at the kerb, Will waved to them with a broad smile.

Magenta waved as well, her cheeks red as she tried to discreetly tell them to leave already. They weren't happy with her decision to go out on a date with Will, and both of her parents had argued with her in the car on the drive over. Cyan's girlfriend had just dumped him and her going on a date with Will that same day was making him upset and jealous. Well, Magenta didn't care, so there!

"How are you feeling?" Will asked, guiding Magenta down the street as her parents left; he'd fly them when there were less people around.

"Fine. Oh, uh, yeah... I'm feeling better," Magenta said, remembering that her mother had told several people - including Mrs. Stronghold - that she was sick, rather than admit that she'd been suspended.

Somewhat grateful that Will was keeping the act up so she'd remember later, Magenta smiled and took his hand as they walked along the quiet street.

"This is nice. Are we really going on a date at The Silver Fountain? I've never been there; my family doesn't eat Thai often," Magenta admitted.

"Of course we're going; what else would we do on a date together?" Will asked, his voice projected louder.

Wow, Will must really love her if he was using their voice coach lessons to tell the neighbourhood! Magenta thought, a twist of guilt in her stomach for the first time since she'd seen Lorcan.

"Good evening, Mrs. Kibbitch; have you met my girlfriend, Magenta?" Will asked, waving to his neighbour with a smile.

Magenta wished that Will would have told her he was going to introduce her to people he knew; she would have worn a better pair of shoes. She smiled and waved to Mrs. Kibbitch, then tugged on Will's arm, hoping that he'd keep walking with her before Mrs. Kibbitch made it across her expansive lawn. "We've got a reservation, Will," she prompted when he didn't move, his strength far surpassing hers.

"Okay. Bye, Mrs. Kibbitch!"

"Bye," Magenta called as well, glad that Will started walking.

Once they were alone, Will put his arm around Magenta's waist and flew them both up into the air, flying for the Thai restaurant in Westville.

Magenta found that dinner was surprisingly good; the Thai food was nice, though not as nice as her mother's food, although she certainly wouldn't be telling her that. Will was pleasant company, even if he was really practicing their voice coach's suggestions a little too much; by the end of their meal, the entire restaurant knew that she and Will were dating.

He dropped her off home once their meal had finished and digested, since they both knew the danger of flying too soon after food. Magenta was still in trouble with her parents for the whole thing with Lorcan, so she wasn't allowed to stay the night with Will, no matter how much he pouted. He'd finally relented and then kissed her like he couldn't get enough. Magenta went into the house, feeling warm inside and out.

"You look happy," Cyan muttered bitterly from the lounge room, splayed out on the lounge, their parents and younger brother nowhere in sight.

"I am. Where is everyone?" Magenta asked, untying her boots and leaving them by the door.

"Out."

"Where?"

"How the fuck should I know? I'm not with them, am I?" Cyan snapped.

Magenta shook her head. Cy was obviously upset by his breakup, and he was taking it out on her because he was an idiot. "All right. I'm going to my room. Good night."

"What's good about it? You're out there with that... that bastardo infiel, and I'm supposed to sit by and watch? You're being stupida, and he's going to hurt you!" (Cheating bastard. Stupid. Spanish)

Magenta's eyes widened. "What the hell, Cy?"

"Oh, don't give me that look! You know it's true, he's going to cheat on you, just like he did with Layla. You're only staying with him 'cause he's a hero and a Stronghold. You don't even like him, hermana! You've got nothing in common!" (Sister.)

"Shut up, Cy!" Magenta said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Everything she'd been feeling since they started dating began to overwhelm her: guilt over Zach, guilt over Layla, anxiety that Will would dump her as his sidekick, worry that Will wouldn't love her if she didn't have sex with him, awkward over the silences that stretched on forever, hating that Will didn't listen to her or her ideas, lust over other people, jealousy over Will looking at other people.

"No, Maj. You've gotta realise what he's doing! You do, don't you? He's just using you for sex and he'll leave you as soon as someone blonde comes his way," Cyan said.

Slap!

Magenta's eyes stung with tears and she covered her mouth, her hand stinging.

"Stop!" her father roared in the doorway, everyone shrinking back at the sound. "Both of you go to your rooms. Right now," he added, his voice leaving no room for argument.

They'd come home with ice cream for Cyan and this is what greeted them? Cyan looked ready to argue despite his tone and Mr. Yolanda bared his teeth at his son. Beside him, Mrs. Yolanda bundled Cerulean into the kitchen, his youngest's chin trembling with barely-repressed tears at the tension.

Magenta looked from her older brother to her father, then ran upstairs to her room, slamming the door closed behind her. She sobbed into her hands, her breath coming in hiccups.

In her small clutch, her phone rang with a bright and cheerful tone. Magenta wanted to throw the thing at the wall, but saw it was Layla calling. She would understand, Layla was her friend.

"L-Layla," she sobbed.

"Magenta? What's wrong, sweetie? Did Will break up with you?"

"No. Cyan... he, he said some awful stuff and I slapped him," Magenta admitted, sniffing loudly.

"Oh, that's awful. Tell me all about it," Layla said, her voice kind, even if her expression wasn't.

Magenta told her everything and then sniffled when she was finished, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. "What should I do?"

"Well, you don't want to go to bed angry. That's never a good start. I've been practising some meditation techniques at night before bed. Do you want me to teach you?"

Magenta frowned. It sounded kinda stupid, but whatever. "Sure."

Layla smiled now. "Close your eyes and breathe in deeply."

Magenta set her phone on speaker, closed her eyes, and breathed as Layla counted.

"Now, exhale; one, two, three, four - " she instructed.

Layla's eyes were green as she concentrated on the seed deep within Magenta that had been added to her water bottle all those months ago.

...

End of the hundred and forty-fourth chapter.