Chapter 10: Green-Eyed Monsters

The principal's office. It wasn't the first time Warren had been summoned here, and in all probability, it wasn't going to be the last. But he had a feeling that this was unfamiliar territory to Layla. She looked appalled when they passed her in the hall.

Warren's skin still tingled. It was as if a dull hum was coursing through his body; he could sense the sap flowing through each and every plant on the school grounds. The trees, the flowers, the grass… He had no idea there was so much vegetation at the school. The colours in Principal Powers' office were too bright, they made his eyes sting. All of his senses were heightened to an almost unbearable level, it was as if he were conscious of everything.

Warren focussed on steadying his breathing, gripping the armrests of his chair and keeping his gaze on the polished surface of Principal Powers' mahogany desk. The cactus on the principal's window sill quivered in its pot and released its sharp spines like a flurry of darts. With a small sigh, Principal Powers calmly removed one that had hit the back of her hand and held it up to Warren.

"Do you call this being in control of your powers?"

Warren didn't answer, he was too preoccupied with trying to manage his breathing. Slowly, he could feel Layla's body return to its normal state.

"I tried to be understanding when you refused hero classes. Indeed, I admit I respected your integrity, however misplaced I thought it might be. But this just isn't like you, Layla."

Principal Powers gave Warren a concerned look. "Are you having problems at home?"

"No," he replied. But that's probably going to change when Layla's parents find out that she's been given detention for fighting, he thought.

"I heard about you and Will Stronghold," Principal Powers said in a softer tone. "Believe me, I understand what you're going through. I know it's somewhat trite to say that the first cut is the deepest, but it will get better, I promise you."

Warren said nothing. He had long ago learnt that it was best to be as tight-lipped as possible in these situations, and to never, ever volunteer information. Stronghold, on the other hand, with his tell all mentality, Warren could well imagine 'fessing up to every misdeed he had ever committed, including the time he over-fed the class goldfish in second grade.

Principal Powers sighed again. "Oh, Layla. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I would have had difficulty believing you would attack anyone, but Warren? I thought you were friends?"

Warren stayed taciturn, refusing to look at her. He'd seen disappointment in those grey eyes before and he didn't really need to see it again.

"Go easy on him. He's had a lot to deal with for someone so young, and he may think otherwise, but I do like him. He's got a good heart beneath that gruff exterior and he needs friends like you and Will."

Principal Powers folded her arms. "Don't look so surprised, Layla. You and Will Stronghold have been a good influence on Warren. He's never been one to make friends easily and it would be a real shame if you two fell out."

"Yes, ma'am," said Warren obediently, but he was surprised. He always thought that Principal Powers viewed him a troublemaker with no redeeming qualities. Will had said to him once that sometimes Warren's paranoia was his greatest enemy, which had seriously pissed Warren off at the time. With his background, Warren thought it was only natural that he could be a bit defensive on occasion. But Will had been right, sometimes Warren was so determined to believe that everyone saw the worst in him that he was distorting reality.

Warren wasn't paying much attention to the principal as she continued to talk. She was saying something about the hero/hero support streams, how it was flawed in some ways but was necessary. The subject didn't interest him. Only liberal moralisers like Layla could believe that everyone should be taught in the same way. Which would be fine if everyone had the same ability. But they didn't. Could someone with dyscalculia cope with advanced algebra? Could a numbers genius flourish doing remedial math? After a few moments silence, Warren realised that Principal Powers was waiting for a response from him.

"Layla, I asked why you are so against being moved to hero classes."

"Umm… I'm not ashamed to be hero support?" replied Warren, but without much conviction.

"And no-one should be," the principal said firmly. She picked up an ornate silver picture frame from her desk and turned it around so that Warren could see the photo. It was of two women, both with matching wide smiles and both wearing costumes and masks, but one was dressed head to toe in white whilst the other was clad in black.

"This is me, back in the day with my hero support. My sister. Coach Clamp didn't think that control over shadows was a hero-worthy power, so Darcy was put on the sidekick track when we were both in Sky High. Whether I agree or disagree with that decision is immaterial. Fact is, I was proud to have her as my hero support. We were a great team."

Principal Powers set the picture frame back down on the desk, a faint smile on her lips as she cast a final glance at the photo before looking Warren in the eyes. "Historically, the coaches at Sky High have always conducted power placement. Humans are fallible and it's a very subjective process, so I don't doubt that mistakes happen." At this Principal Powers' features hardened. "As I believe was the case with you, Layla. I don't like to speak ill of my colleagues, but you should never have been put through power placement without showing your power."

She continued, "And don't think I haven't noticed your grades. You're effortlessly getting straight A's, which indicates you're finding hero support too easy. But then, maybe that's what you're scared of, facing some real competition among the heroes and the possibility of failing."

Principal Powers paused, looking at Warren intently.

"Would you agree, that you're not up to the challenge?"

Warren massaged his temples. Oh, that Principal Powers was a sly one. He thought for a long moment as he examined her ever-so slightly smug expression. She had him backed in a corner and she knew it.

"No," he said wearily. He could hardly say yes, could he?

Principal Powers' grin grew. "Then prove it. Sadly, you demonstrated today that you need further training to ensure you can handle your power safely. I'm afraid I don't really have much choice about this decision."

Warren suppressed a groan. He could tell that Principal Powers had been waiting for a while for Layla to slip up like this. He had a sneaky suspicion that the hippie was going to be pissed at him for more than getting her detention.

Layla let the rich, velvety sweetness melt in on her tongue. Mmm… Chocolate ice cream would make it all better. Specifically, triple chocolate ice cream topped with whipped cream, hot fudge sauce and extra sprinkles. After school she had gone to Sundae Best, the ice cream parlour at the mall, with the sole intention of ordering the most calorific item on the menu. It was the ultimate guilt-free dessert – Lash could probably do with a few extra pounds anyway, she justified. Although he seemed the type to have a high metabolism. The bastard.

Her parents were going to be furious with her. Not so much for getting detention per se. God knows that they'd gotten in enough trouble with authority figures themselves in their younger days. But they had been protesting against animal testing and nuclear weapons at the time. Non-violent protesting. She had been fighting another student. And how improbable was her excuse – sorry, Mom and Dad, it wasn't my fault because my body was being possessed by a hot-headed pyro with anger management issues? She spooned more ice cream into her mouth. She couldn't talk to anyone about how bad she felt, so now was the time for some major comfort eating.

Some guy singing a whiny love song was playing on the radio. She snorted scornfully into her ice cream, but the more she listened, the more it seemed to make sense. She tried to ignore the lyrics, which spoke of losing love, losing a friend. Losing the person you thought was The One. Layla plunged her spoon deeper into the ice cream dish and pulled it out again, but somehow it managed to miss her mouth, ice cream splattering against her cheek and chin.

It had been about a week since she'd last cried about Will, but it hit her all over again. It was as if the scab had been ripped off and someone had poured salt into the gaping wound beneath. What was wrong with her? Why didn't he want her? Layla knew she was a good person. She didn't think she was the prettiest girl in the school, but it wasn't as if she was unattractive. If Will, who had known her practically all her life didn't love her, then who else would?

Layla's eyes blurred with tears. Ice cream wasn't helping at all. She began to sob, oblivious to the strange looks the other diners were giving her. Her life was too horrible at the moment.

"'sup, man?"

Layla looked up at the person who had pulled up the chair opposite her. Oh wonderful, she thought, just what I need.

Speed stared at his friend Lash. His friend Lash who had chocolate ice cream smeared around his face and was shamelessly crying in public.

"Dude, what the hell is up with you?"

Layla quickly wiped her face.

"It's nothing," she said after blowing her nose noisily into a paper napkin. "You wouldn't understand anyway."

"O-K," Speed muttered, shaking his head as if to erase the sight he had just seen from his memory. Layla sighed deeply and pushed away her ice cream dish. She had suddenly lost her appetite.

"What are you doing here anyway?" she asked. "I mean, haven't you been grounded or something?" Layla was not in the mood for being friendly, especially not to the likes of Speed.

"You know I have," Speed grinned and gave her a conspiratorial wink. "But what the folks don't see they don't know, right? Man, I love being superfast!"

They sat in silence, Layla thinking hard for an excuse to leave. Speed fidgeted as he eyed her ice cream.

"You done with that?"

"Sure, go knock yourself out," Layla shrugged.

Speed swiftly consumed the rest of the dessert. Layla was on the verge of telling him that she had to go and finish some homework, not caring whether he believed her or not, when he clapped his hands and laughed.

"Oh-h-h! I know exactly how to cheer you up, man!"

"I doubt it," she said under her breath. What was he going to suggest, that they find some kittens to kick or something?

Speed jerked his thumb to the window. "Look who it is, our favourite supervillain's son."

Lash was looking at the window display of The Vinyl Frontier (God, what humourless goon came up with these poorly-punned shop names, Layla asked herself), the music store across the way from Sundae Best. Before Layla could even blink, Lash had fallen to the ground, clutching his shin and Speed had plonked Warren's backpack onto the table back in the ice cream parlour. He wasn't even out of breath.

"Speed!" Layla hissed. "We're not supposed to use our powers outside of school!"

"Duh! Like when has that stopped you before?"

"Someone might see you!"

"Come on, Lash!" Speed said, throwing her Warren's bag. "This'll be fun. I promise."

Anyone other than Lash might have wondered what had just happened. One second, he was looking through a shop window, the next he was sprawled on the ground, a sharp pain throbbing through his left leg and the weight of his backpack absent from his shoulder. It had all the trademarks of a Speed attack – confusing, painful and, needless to say, quick. Lash got up and looked around in trepidation. He really did not want to see Speed while he was in this body.

Something heavy slammed against Lash's ribs and he was knocked back into a concrete pillar, his assailant was an indistinct blur. Oh yeah, it was Speed, alright. As Lash staggered forward, there was another rapid blur of movement and a sudden shooting pain in his right shin. He stumbled to his knees, gasping.

"Why hello there, Peace! Missing something?"

Speed dangled Warren's backpack in front of Lash, whipping it back as Lash lunged for it and hurling it at Layla. Layla, who was still having co-ordination problems in Lash's body, missed, forcing Speed to race over to it and pick it up before Lash got there. He shot Layla a dirty look before continuing his torment of Lash.

"That's rather rude, Peace. You know, its common courtesy to say 'please' if you want something."

Layla knew this was poetic justice. Lash deserved to find out what he had put so many people through, what it felt like to be on the receiving end of such victimisation. But as she looked at the bewilderment and pain on his face, she knew she couldn't allow it. She had a conscience, dammit!

"Speed, just give him his bag back and leave him alone!" she said, snatching the backpack from his grasp and tossing it to Lash.

Speed looked disgusted. "Man, what is with you?"

Lash felt torn. He didn't exactly want to be Speed's new punchbag, but then he didn't want Layla to wreck his friendship with Speed either. He could see that Speed was already starting to think he was being weak.

Suddenly, something red, white, blue and very, very, angry hurtled towards Speed, knocking the breath out of him and sending him flying. Will had always had a bit of a saviour complex, Layla observed dryly, though Warren wasn't exactly typical damsel-in-distress material. Speed panted as he got up.

Will helped Lash to his feet and stood between him and Speed. "You touch him again and, so help me, I'll crush every bone in your body." His voice was quiet, dangerous. Beads of sweat had already started to glisten on Speed's brow.

"Come on, Warren," Will said gently, putting his hand on Lash's shoulder. "I thought we were doing some training for the competition tonight." Lash nodded silently and they made their way out of the mall together.

Layla was more than a tad perplexed by Will's reaction. Why was he being so ultra-protective of Warren? It wasn't like he was some delicate flower. This was Warren Peace for crying out loud!

"Well, well, well. So glad you could join us, Layla."

A petite woman in a dark orange kaftan with Layla's keen brown eyes and a mane of brown curls stood before Warren with her arms crossed. Strings of beads hung around her neck and several silver bangles adorned her wrists. Mrs Williams, Warren deduced. Warren saw instantly where Layla had gotten her crazy hair and dress sense. Mr Williams stood next to his wife, his expression indecipherable. Mrs Williams, on the other hand, clearly looked livid.

Warren had been dreading this. It was bad enough sitting in the detention room with Lash for an hour after school. Luckily, that oddball sophomore who ate paper was also in detention, which meant that Lash couldn't say anything incriminating. To delay the showdown at the Williamses, Warren had spent some time in the library afterwards, borrowing unnecessary books, knowing he wasn't doing himself any favours by trying to put this off.

"Sorry I'm late, but I had…"

"Detention," Layla's mother interrupted him. "Yes, Principal Powers has informed us that you have had a very interesting day."

Warren gulped. It had been a while since he had got such a speaking to for getting in trouble at school. Of course his mom didn't approve when he landed himself in detention, but lately it was if she couldn't even muster the energy to tell him how disappointed she was, let alone get angry with him.

"I walk through the door after being away for two weeks and the first thing I hear is that you have been abusing your powers, attacking people and damaging school property!" The bangles jingled on Mrs Williams' wrists as she gesticulated at Warren.

"I'm sorry…" began Warren, but Mrs Williams cut him off again.

"I just cannot believe this, Layla!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms up in the air. "Didn't we raise you better than this? I thought we taught you to use words rather than force unless there was no other choice?"

"I really am sorry, I just lost control, I didn't mean for it to happen," Warren explained truthfully, but this did not seem to pacify Mrs Williams, who was still flushed with anger.

"Young lady," she said, wagging a finger at Warren for emphasis. "You are grounded and I don't need to tell you how disappointed we are!"

Warren trudged up to Layla's room. The sight he encountered on entering made him draw a sharp intake of breath. Most of Layla's plants seemed a little worse for wear, they were either an unhealthy brown colour, generally wilting or, in some cases, both.

This is why I don't keep plants, he thought grimly, because I forget to water the damn things.

Warren located a watering can and tried his best to rectify the damage, but suspected it may be too little too late for some. He attempted drawing on the power he used earlier to revive one of Layla's orchids. Nothing. Warren sighed. It figured. Seemed like he could only use Layla's chlorokinesis to either make plants die or to assault people.

Laughter drifted through Layla's open window. He looked out into the darkening dusk and could just make out Will and Lash chatting at Will's back door. It was strange, Warren felt like a spectator of his own life. Warren guessed that they must have been practising for the Save the Citizen tryouts. Will had that hyper perkiness about him that he usually did after powering up and training.

Lash grabbed Will in a jokey headlock and Will flung him off easily, sending him smashing into the garbage cans. Will helped him up, apologising, as usual forgetting how powerful he could be. Warren could only hear snatches of their conversation.

"You know, it's gonna take a lot more than that to cause me damage, Stronghold."

"Sorry, sometimes I forget what a big, scary badass you are!" Will laughed as Lash hit his shoulder playfully.

Warren's hands balled into fists. Really, was it necessary for Lash to be that… tactile?

Will seemed to be inviting him in as he opened the door. Warm, orange light spilled out into the Stronghold's backyard, clearly illuminating the faces of the two teenage boys. Warren could hear Mrs Stronghold's muffled voice greeting them as Will entered. Lash turned and looked up at Layla's window before he went in, giving Warren a smile and a cheery wave.

Warren didn't know what Lash was playing at, but he didn't like it. Not one bit.

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A/N

The song that made Layla cry is Goodbye My Lover by James Blunt, and is quite possibly the most depressing thing you can listen to when you've been dumped by someone you've known for years and regard as your best friend. Edit 22.01.07: Lyrics from this chapter snipped to make it compliant with ffnet rules.

As always, thanks for the reviews boys and girls (I know at least one boy is reading this – thanks for your lovely PM, Adam). Keep 'em coming – my motivation/inspiration is dependent on feedback! And to answer Tigitiki's question: no, he isn't, but there is a bit of angst in his past which will be revealed either next chap or the one after…

AzulTigress