Chapter 8: Trouble Brewing

The blade's edge was cutting into Warren's throat. He felt a warm trickle of blood run down his neck. There was that scratchy sound of a zipper unfastening. Clumsy hands pawing at him. A hard knot of fear formed at the pit of his stomach.

Then instinct kicked in.

After his father was imprisoned, Warren went off the rails. His mother couldn't control him. When he was eleven, Warren was packed off to his grandmother in China in a last ditch attempt to instil some discipline into him. Zhen Zhixiao Peace was an esteemed sifu in Hei Hu Quan kung fu, and her daughter hoped that a spell in her kwoon would help Warren develop some self-control. That spell ended up lasting a whole year, and in that time Warren never did manage to fully tame his temper, despite the interesting punishments his grandmother administered. But Warren was a natural athlete and he did learn a number of nifty martial arts techniques.

Being blessed with an inbuilt flame-thrower and being cursed with a villainous parentage meant that Warren didn't practice much these days. He didn't need to, most people just stayed the hell out of his way. But now the old moves resurfaced from a dark recess of his subconscious.

With a quick twist, he knocked away the knife and kicked Denim Jacket sharply in the groin. As he was doubled over and grunting in pain, Warren dealt him another kick to the back of the head, and he collapsed to the sidewalk, unmoving. Warren spun around quickly, ducking a poorly-executed punch from Shaved Head and delivered a sweeping kick to his shins. Shaved Head fell to his knees, swearing, and Warren thrust a punch into his face. He felt the man's nose split open under his fist in a burst of scarlet.

He had to get out of there. Layla wasn't as fit as him and he was fortunate that he had both the element of surprise and the fact that his two attackers were drunk on his side. Without another thought, Warren sprinted away, sticking to well-lit main streets, cursing himself for his stupidity.

When he reached the Williams' front door, the key kept tumbling from his unsteady fingers. After picking it up from the porch for a fourth time, Warren finally managed to unlock the door. He shut it slowly behind him and rested his forehead against the cold, painted wood. He couldn't stop shaking. He had never felt so vulnerable before. His strength and his fire were things he took for granted, he never imagined he could feel so threatened. So helpless.

Layla couldn't remember the last time Will had kissed her like that. It was incredible, his mouth felt amazing. His fingers brushed her arms, leaving a wave of goosebumps in their wake. Their bodies seemed to be melding together as the kisses grew stronger and Layla buried her hands in his messy hair. His mouth travelled from hers to her neck, to her collarbone, then lower… Layla groaned as she twisted her fingers into his hair. His hair… which had suddenly become darker and a little longer, if no less messy. He lifted his face to look at her and she realised it wasn't Will. It was Lash. He smiled at her and resumed the kisses, his lips continuing their descent on her body. It felt so good, she didn't want it to stop…

Then she woke up. She was still in Lash's body. It was unmistakably Lash's body. Oh God, it was all just too hideously, unpleasantly, horribly weird. And she needed a shower. A really cold shower. Preferably followed by a long lie down in a bathtub of ice. Eurgghh… It really was no picnic being inside the body of a teenage boy and having to deal with… boy things. And what was with that dream, anyway? She could understand Will, but Lash? The bodyswap was seriously eroding her sanity.

One freezing shower later and Layla resorted to one of the few things that helped soothe her nerves. Donning a baggy t-shirt and a pair of jogging pants, Layla stood in the middle of Lash's spacious bedroom. The grey morning light shone through her closed eyelids as she inhaled and exhaled in deep, controlled breaths. She was feeling much calmer even before she went through several rounds of the sun salutation. So, there were some benefits to being in Lash's stupid, bendy body, Layla thought as she started going through some more complex poses. She had been practising yoga for a while, but knew she could be doing it for years and never be as limber as Lash.

Layla was just finishing an extremely difficult inverted pose, which involved her resting her bodyweight on her elbows, raising her legs and curving them upwards so that her body resembled a reversed 'c' shape, when Lash's cell phone started ringing. Her concentration broken, Layla collapsed into a tangled heap on the floor, Lash's elasticated legs somehow managing to wrap themselves around the back of her head.

There was a hesitant knock at the door.

"Son, are you alright in there?"

Layla felt a furious blush burn her cheeks. She tried vainly to free herself, but was steadfastly stuck. "Umm… I could do with a little help…"

"What in the world…" said Mr Langford as he entered Lash's bedroom and saw the state Layla had gotten herself into.

"Laurence, what on earth were you doing?" he asked, disentangling his son.

"Vrschikasana," Layla muttered feebly, getting to her feet.

"Excuse me?"

She sighed as her blush deepened. "The scorpion pose."

Mr Langford looked at Layla like she was unhinged. She tried to explain that it was a yoga move, but it didn't seem to help any.

"Son, I really think you need to get out more," said Mr Langford, pulling out his wallet and cramming a couple of twenty dollar bills into Layla's hand. "It's a Saturday. Why don't you call some of your friends and go catch a movie or something? In fact, I think I heard your cell ringing earlier. Find out who it was and enjoy your youth before it's too late."

Layla picked up Lash's sleek, black cell phone as Mr Langford left the room. A message blinked on the display screen.

1 missed call

Speed

She switched the phone off. She may have been lonely, but she wasn't desperate.

Warren was a foetal ball curled beneath Layla's quilt when Mr Williams tried to rouse him at an ungodly hour earlier that morning. He reminded Warren that he was supposed to be helping at the animal shelter like he did every Saturday. Warren tugged the covers tighter around himself and muttered that he was unwell.

He did feel bad about lying to Layla's dad, but there was no way he could face tending a bunch of vomiting, defecating animals. He was still shaken over what had happened the night before. Warren touched the small cut on his neck with his forefinger. It was more like a scratch, but he still felt the now familiar sensation of guilt wash over him. He had been in Layla's body for all of two days and in that time he'd managed to kiss Will and get attacked. Really, was he any better than Lash?

Warren pretended to be asleep when Bonnie came into Layla's room. He felt a sticky kiss on his cheek and a chubby, little hand clumsily pat his forehead in what Bonnie probably thought was a very grownup way. After Bonnie had noisily shut the door behind her, Warren opened his eyes and saw that she had left him her Teletubbies book and a one-eyed teddy bear. This just made him feel even worse. Why did the Williamses have to be so goddamn nice?

From under the comforting, cocoon-like warmth of the bedcovers, Warren heard Mr Williams' car pull out of the driveway. Silence blanketed the house and Warren shut his eyes and tried to force himself to sleep, but as the hours passed, he knew it wasn't going to happen.

When the door bell chimed, Warren remained where he was. But the caller was persistent and continued to press the bell, alternating between long and short rings for a couple of minutes. Warren groaned and pressed the pillow firmly against his ears. Eventually, the ringing stopped, but there was a tap on Layla's bedroom window, followed by a louder thud. Now they were throwing stones at the window. Whoever it was, it was clear they were not going to give up easily. With a final groan, Warren threw off the bedcovers and flung open the window to find a tall, fair-haired boy in very loud clothes and a short, dark girl in purple. Zach grinned and waved, Magenta's raised eyebrow said 'about time.'

"Yo, Layla! We stopped by the animal shelter, but your dad said you weren't feeling well, so me and Maj thought we'd…" Zach paused and squinted at Warren. "Jeez! What's happened to you?"

Warren's hand went to cover his neck. Shit! He had hoped that the cut wasn't noticeable.

A worried frown that matched Zach's had also settled on Magenta's face. "Whoa, it must be bad if you can't even get out the straightening irons!"

What the hell is she talking about? thought Warren.

"Sorry?"

"The hair, Layla. It's a little more pre-Raphaelite than your usual look."

Warren stole a quick glance in Layla's mirror. Layla's thick, long hair, usually glossy and poker-straight, was a dense snarl of red curls. Well, Layla's hairstyle was the least of his worries right now.

"So, are you going to let us in?" asked Magenta, twirling the strap of her purple messenger bag impatiently between her fingers.

"Yeah," said Zach. "We're going to visit Ethan later, but we just wanted to come over and make sure you're OK first."

Warren was half-tempted to tell them to leave him alone, but thought he better not add 'alienating friends' to the growing list of ways he was wrecking Layla's life.

"OK," Warren said with a sigh, grabbing Layla's dressing gown. "I'll be right down."

Magenta and Zach sat in the kitchen as Warren fetched them glasses of organic orange juice.

"Uhh… So, Layla, how've you been feeling lately?" Zach asked awkwardly.

Warren shrugged. "Same as usual, I suppose."

"It's just that… uhh…" Zach drummed his fingers on the table. "Uhh…"

Magenta heaved a sigh. "What Zach is trying to say is that we've both been worried about you." Magenta's face was completely free of her trademark sarcasm as she continued earnestly. "Things have been pretty rough for you lately, but don't think that just because me and Zach are a couple now we don't want you hanging out with us, or that you can't talk to us about anything."

"Yeah," Zach smiled, hitting Warren softly on the shoulder. "Us sidekicks gotta stick together!"

It struck Warren that in the past year, he hadn't really gotten to know Zach and Magenta that well. Everyone was peripheral next to Will and, to some extent, Bianca. But it looked like he'd missed out on a couple of good friends.

Zach drained his glass quickly and went over to put it in the sink. He suddenly started banging his fist on the window and waving. It wasn't long before a rumpled-looking Will Stronghold walked through the Williams' back door.

"What is this?" Magenta smirked. "National Bad Hair Day? Or did I miss the memo that said the bed head look was back in?"

"I've been at the Maxville General Hospital all night," Will said, drawing up a chair and collapsing into it. "Didn't Layla tell you about Warren?"

Will filled Magenta and Zach in on the details and added that Warren was much better and had just been discharged home.

"Mrs Peace said she was only gonna be gone a couple of hours," Will continued, yawning widely. "But she didn't get back till about 7.30 this morning."

"Really? Did she seem OK?" Warren asked, unable to mask the anxiety in his voice.

"I guess," Will said suspiciously. "Why?"

"No reason," said Warren quickly, but he could tell that wasn't going to satisfy Will. He could have kicked himself for asking, but he was concerned about his mother. "Umm… I know Warren's been worried about her lately, that's all."

Great, thought Warren. I'm playing the third-person game again and revealing too much.

Will scowled. "Hmph. I was beginning to think getting Warren to open up was like getting blood out of a stone, but I didn't realise you were both so close."

Will was pouting like a spoilt brat who wasn't getting his own way. Warren felt himself reddening. Stronghold was so goddamn infuriating sometimes!

"Get over it, Will," Warren snapped. "You're acting like a girl. So Warren doesn't share every minute detail of his life with you. So what? What's the big deal?"

Will opened and closed his mouth soundlessly. Warren knew that he was being unfair, but, illogically, that knowledge just served to intensify his anger.

Zach decided to hastily, and obviously, change the subject.

"Dudes, did anyone else notice the freaky ass weather last night?"

Magenta blinked and stifled a groan. Zach meant well, but she rather doubted a nice little chat about the weather was going to diffuse the tension. Little did either of them know of the effect Zach's seemingly innocent question had on Warren.

"What do you mean?" he asked Zach sharply.

"Don't tell me you didn't hear it," said Zach. "It was like hurricane force winds or something. Man, I woke up 'cause the whole house was shaking."

"You sleep like a log in a coma, Zach," Maj snorted. "It must've been strong if it woke you up, though I can't say I heard anything last night."

Zach lived a couple of blocks away from Bianca, Warren thought wildly. Mom disappeared for hours last night. My aerokinetic mom, who had the ability to control the wind…

"So what happened?" asked Warren, panicky.

"Umm… that was it," mumbled Zach, scratching his head nervously. He couldn't understand Layla's sudden interest in meteorology, or why his friend had a half-crazed look in her eyes. "The wind was really strong for about ten, maybe fifteen minutes then it stopped. End of."

"Are you sure?" Warren seized hold of Zach's fluorescent t-shirt. "Tell me!"

"Hey, chill, Layla," said Magenta gently. "Just calm down."

Warren could almost feel the relief rising from the glow worm as he let go of Zach's shirt. He closed his eyes. Maj was right, he had to calm down. He was starting to freak them all out. Layla Williams did not go around threatening people. He had to be rational. His mom had to be OK, or else Will definitely would have said something.

"Sorry…"

"It's OK," said Zach, smoothing out his t-shirt. The look that he and Magenta exchanged did not go unnoticed by Warren.

Will got up and made his way to the Williams' back door, his broad shoulders sagging. "Well, if you're done, I'm going to go home and get some sleep. Catch you all later."

Later...

"Honey, you have a visitor."

Lash looked up to see Will Stronghold standing next to Warren's mother in the doorway of Warren's room, a red and white striped box in his hand. Mrs Peace had instructed Lash to stay in bed and he was much too weak to object, so he spent most of the day drifting in and out of sleep. There was something seriously weird going on with Mrs Peace. That morning when she took him home from the hospital she seemed energised, rejuvenated somehow, but she looked tired and worn-out again as she flashed Will a small smile before disappearing.

"Just came over to see how you were and to give you these," Will tossed the box over to Lash. "I know you like them."

Lash opened the box and inspected the contents. Licorice snaps? What was Peace, like five years old? Lash thought contemptuously as he grabbed a handful of the pastel-coloured candy and stuffed one into his mouth.

"I'll take that as a 'thank you'," Will remarked acidly as he sat on the end of Warren's bed.

He sat in silence for a while, watching Lash eat the candy.

"You really upset Layla last night," he said, glaring at Lash. "And me. We were really worried about you and then you go and say something like that. It's not fair, Warren."

Lash groaned. He realised that Stronghold wasn't going to leave him alone without an apology.

"Look, I'm sorry, Stronghold," he said with as much genuine-sounding remorse as he could muster. "I guess I just wasn't myself last night." Well, at least that much was true, he thought. "You could say I had other things on my mind, like a near death experience. And I'll apologise to the hippie later. How was she anyway?"

Appeased by Lash's words, the moody expression on Will's face became one of concern.

"She was pretty forgiving about it, actually. But I guess that's Layla; she always sees the good in people."

Will chewed his lower lip and ran his hands through his unruly hair.

"I'm worried about her, Warren. She's been acting really weird, sorta snappy and intense."

Lash didn't have to know Will to see that the younger teen was deeply troubled. Will's honest face was an open book. A heavily illustrated book with large print. He wasn't one to hide his emotions.

"She kissed me last night."

Lash started choking on a licorice snap. Will slapped him between his shoulder blades.

"Yeah, I know. It was a shock all right. I knew the break up hit her pretty bad, but I thought she was getting over it."

With a hacking cough, Lash managed to dislodge the candy from his throat.

"Funny thing is, she's never kissed me like that before. It was…" Will was silent for a few moments, clearly racking his brain for a fitting adjective before giving up.

"…weird," he finished lamely.

Lash held his fist to his mouth and tried to look thoughtful and understanding, but in reality he wanted to burst out laughing.

They kissed? How very interesting. Lash knew that he was going to have a lot more fun being Warren Peace than he first thought.

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A/N

Mmm… Much as I like Warren and Will, Lash is just so deliciously bad!

For all of you who reviewed last time, many thanks and sorry about the delay. Just started a new term at college, so life's been insanely busy! But am determined to finish this story, so please stick with it.

Hopefully I'll be back in a soonish update :D

AzulTigress