CHAPTER 5: "Come again, Say WHAT?!?!"
Alright, so just because it was the first match of the year, and Will and Warren had made a bit of a show of it, then the class finishes early and seniors start flooding the halls to get to their lockers and get the hell back home. I personally want to fly down but I am told by Layla that if I don't know where the school is I won't know where to land and I would get lost unnecessarily. I have to agree.
So, ever the loyal friends (NOT), we wait for Will and Warren to finish changing and then set off for the bus. Remember my mom had told me that I was staying with the Strongholds? Well now I had to introduce myself. Yippee. So NOT. So we get on the bus, and, surprise, surprise, the only seat available, (no, that's not true, there are other seats available but if I try seating somewhere else, Layla and Maj will have my head) is next to Warren. I plop down ungracefully, mumbling under my breath about backstabbing new friends. He smirks, chuckling lowly and it takes everything I have NOT to look at his lips in that entranced manner only he's to blame for. I still don't have the guts to consider the possibility of actually kissing him, aside from the fact that we are seating in a bus full of people looking at me. I hate the "new kid" syndrome!
The landing was smooth enough and Layla, Will and I get off.
"Warren, when are you - ?"
"Some time before 7. Apart from a short shift, I have to get something for Mrs. Young. She gave me some bills to put away, I told her where I put them, and she still can't find them." Will nods, shaking his head with a smile, and waves. Warren didn't even get off the bus, so we walk straight for the Strongholds' house.
"I think your stuff has already gotten here so all that's left is to move it into your room. We can bring the gang over the weekend to help out with the decorating and everything, you know? And if you want to paint it, Warren can help with the drying!" Will says enthusiastically. I laughed at the likelihood of the pyro accepting to act as paint-dryer.
We arrive at a nice house, big, homey, classy. It screamed Stronghold.
"Come on, you have to meet mom and dad!" we finally entered the house and the smell of freshly baked cookies wafted over to us. American dream much?
"Mom, dad, we're home! Come meet Samantha!" Great way to introduce someone right? But it is working. In less then a minute, Mr. and Mrs. Stronghold are in the living room and smiling first at Will, then at Layla and finally at me.
"Hello, Samantha, I'm Josie, welcome! How was your first day?" I smile. This woman has "mother" written all over her. She seems really nice. And she most likely is.
"Hi Mrs. Stronghold, thanks. It was fine. Actually, it went way better than I expected." I say, brightly enough, sharing a look with Layla. She smirks, knowing exactly what, or rather who, brightened up my day. Mrs. Stronghold notices the exchange and seems to smirk at us. Well, if Will and Warren are as good friends as they appear to be, she ought to know what I'm talking about. LOL.
"Hi, Samantha, I'm Steve. I'm glad you seem to have made friends already!"
"Hi Mr. Stronghold. Well, Layla basically pulled me into the gang so, yeah, I am now considered part of it. They're, bearable enough..." I say, trailing off sarcastically. Mr. and Mrs. Stronghold chuckle and Layla nudges me, jokingly.
"Well, your things have already arrived, so it is just a matter of getting them upstairs. I'm sure the guys can help you with that." Mrs. Stronghold says. I nod.
"Will has already offered his and the gang's help for the weekend to help me settle in and take care of decorating and stuff. So tonight, if you don't mind, all I'll do is get my boxes upstairs." Literally, I had boxes of stuff! They smile and say it was perfectly alright. I smile back. I think I'm gonna like it here!
So, finally, Will, Layla and I start moving the boxes over to my room. Will carries them to the back yard, and form there, Layla and I can work our magic. LOL. It's a very effective system really cause Layla can boss the trees around for help and I can summon wind currents, lifting boxes to my room. Again, very effective.
Can you believe I have over 20 boxes of stuff? And that, at least, 5 of those boxes are clothes? Probably about 7 or 8, to be honest. What can I say? A girl has to be able to dress herself. Decently. The room, by the way, is very nice. Spacious, breezy, with a small balcony, sufficiently big closet, vanity, big mirror, desk, double bed. All in all, a fine room for a teenager. Apparently I share bathroom with the room that's right next to mine, but that is no problem. There doesn't seem to be anyone in that room so, quite frankly, there is no reason for me to complain. Alright, time to entertain myself with putting everything in its place.
Alright. Time to work. Uh oh... see I've never been one for working much. Unless it's biology, powers, or dancing -related. And I'm not much of an orderly person either. But let's just keep that between you and me. So let's start easy. One box at a time. Simple really. So I open the box closest to me. Full of books, sketch books, desk stuff. Oh brother, here goes to nothing.
..... .... .... ....
I've been at this for, at least, 3 hours. It's amazing how time flies, whether you're having fun or not. One box after the other. Organising a room can be awfully boring. Fortunately, I found a way around that! Music! I didn't know I have about 5 hours worth of music in my I-pod. Anyway, I am currently emptying the very last box. WHEW! This house is a lot quieter than what I'm used to, you know? Back in the mansion, there are kids going around all day, and the greater part of the night. Here, the last time I heard something was about 30 minutes ago, when the front door opened and closed, and I heard Will saying something. I look at the brand new clock standing on the bed-side table. It's 7 o'clock. Just in time to hear my stomach growling, Mrs. Stronghold knocks.
"I'll start dinner right now. Anything special you may want Sammy?"
Sammy. I love that nickname. Don't really know why. I just do.
"No thanks, Mrs. Stronghold, I'm fine with whatever you'll cook."
"Okay!" I'm starting to think cheerfulness in this family is genetic. And I haven't even met Layla's parents yet!
THERE! All done. Can't believe I made it before dinner. I suppose it's about time to go down. Maybe I can help with something. I'm not the type to help out, really, but seeing as the Strongholds took me in, I feel like I have to help. You know what I mean?
I haven't even changed from what I had on for school so I quickly grab a pair of short shorts, my favourite, most comfy ones and a black tank. If I'm not wearing heals, I just go barefoot. And with this sort of attire, you just don't wear heals.
So, finally, I jog down the stairs, pulling my crazy, wavy, white hair into the classic messy bun.
"Hey, Mrs. Stronghold, anything I can help with?" She turns around, smiles and shakes her head.
"No, Sammy, don't worry. I already have the perfect kitchen assistant." Wonder who that is, neither Mr. Stronghold or Will strike me as the type. "Did you like your room?"
"Yes, it's great!" it really is, I love having my own space. Having nothing to do, I snoop around the fridge. Whatever she's cooking smells great. So great, that some one's already following their nose down the stairs.
"Oh and don't worry about having to share bathrooms, cause Warren normally uses the one in Will's room."
HUH?! I freeze, still half-way inside the fridge.
"Warren? What Warren?" Mrs. Stronghold looks at me, and it apparently dawns on her that I really have no idea what she's talking about.
"This Warren."
Hey I know that voice. Oh yeah! It's the same voice that's been turning my knees to jelly all day! WHAT! SHIT!! And... yep! I turn around (and thankfully I was holding onto the refrigerator door cause I am NOT ready for the sight that meets me) to see THE Warren Peace, pyro and Sky High hottie extraordinaire leaning against the counter, as if posing just for me (I wish!) in nothing more than dangerously low sweat pants and a black wife-beater, one so tight, it leaves little to nothing to my currently overactive imagination. Classic. It just had to happen. Man the guy's fine! Please tell me I'm not drooling. Damn it Sam, snap out of it!!!! So I do. Or try to.
"Y- You!" did I just stutter? Since when? I don't stutter! What is this guy doing to me? On second thought, I'd rather NOT answer this question!
"Me." He answers smoothly, the smirk back in place. Damn him. His hairs dripping wet, obviously having just stepped out of the shower. Goddess, don't let me be staring! "What are we cooking tonight?" he asks. Wait, he's the cooking assistant? I'm gonna start making a list of all the things this guy can do! Or rather, make that a list of all the things he CAN'T do. I bet they fit in a post-it! He pulls a hair band from his wrist and starts pulling his hair back into a bun. Much like back at the "Save the Citizen" game. Only this time I can have a much closer look at every single muscle in his perfectly defined arms. I'm fainting here people!
"Well, I've already started it, just a cheese sauce, it's nearly done. Can you get the pasta?" Mrs. Stronghold asks him as if it was the most normal thing. I still haven't stopped staring. He nods and starts walking to the cupboard behind me.
"I would've imagined that, by this point in your life, someone would've told you that it's rude to stare." I'm sure, by now, you're wondering why I haven't kicked his ass yet, right? One would think, after what he just said, he so deserves it, right? But, see, when Warren Peace whispers into your ear, all you can hope to get done it to suppress the shiver currently running down your spine. Which is exactly what I am trying to accomplish. I'm surprised I can still think coherently. Somehow, through the fog currently clouding my brain, I hear Mrs. Stronghold's voice.
"Sammy, dear, could you please call Will and Steve, so they can set the table?"
"Sure thing." I nod. As I leave, I see her shaking her head and saying to Warren in an amused voice,
"You just couldn't help yourself, could you?" he chuckles. Thank Goddess the stairs have a railing I can hold onto.
Finally on the second floor, and with a clear enough head again, I knock on Will's door. He opens, sees my face, and half-grimaces, half smirks.
"You saw Warren didn't you?" which reminds me...
"I did. Care to explain what he's doing here?" I am starting to realise people smirking is NEVER a good sign.
"He's staying here."
"I figured out that much genius, I mean WHY?"
"Because his mom has also left to fight the Superhuman Registration Act, and he obviously can't stay with his dad." I nod. I know about that. Then...
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! You mean he's actually living here?!"
"What exactly did you understand when I said 'he's staying here'?"
"I thought staying for the night!"
"Nah! Mom won't let him stay home alone. So he moved into the attic. His choice by the way. Tell him to show you up there some time. He's got a pretty cool place up there." Sure thing I'm gonna ask Warren Peace to show me to his room. I'm doomed. Might as well start getting used to it!
"Anyway, your mom says to get your dad and set the table."
"Right, I'll get him. You go and tell her we'll be right down. Or up. I think he's in the secret sanctum." The WHAT? They still have things like that? WOW. Old school indeed!
"Mrs. Stronghold, that was delicious!" I'm not kidding. This was one of the best dinners I've ever had! We even had dessert! Chocolate mousse! One of my personal favourites! "You have to do that chocolate mousse more often! How do you make it all swirly with the black and white?"
"Thanks darling, but really, all I did was the cheese sauce for the pasta. Warren made that mousse yesterday, for tonight's dinner. It was really good wasn't it? And how did you make it Warren? You've had me wondering since yesterday!" Oh you gotta be kidding me! I could marry the guy! And I swore not to marry! EVER! On principle, don't get me started on the whole explanation. Let's just say I don't believe in marriage.
"It's bitter chocolate mousse with vanilla mousse, kinda like shaken not stirred." Even I chuckle. I'm starting to get used to his voice, so long as it's not whispered in my ear.
"Well, I think we should call it a night. You guys don't want to be late for your second day of school, like you nearly were today, right?" Mr. Stronghold said staring pointedly at the two teenage boys sitting at the table. They smirked and got up, taking their plates to the kitchen.
"Warren, dear, don't worry about the dishes, I'll do them. You boys go get a good night sleep. You too Sammy." I do as I'm told. I take my plate to the kitchen, get a "g'night" from each of the boys, I say "goodnight" to Will's parents and head off to my room.
Boy, wasn't this an eventful day. I change into my PJ's, a classic, tank top-shorts ensemble, though I through off my bra. Can't sleep with the damned thing on. I brush my teeth and throw myself on my bed. I'll shower tomorrow morning. To wake up properly. I hear Will and Warren say good night to each other and I can hear Warren's footsteps walk to the end of the corridor and up the attic stairs. Damn enhanced hearing. His steps are slightly muffled, but still clear as he walks over head. I can't help but think about the hot roomy I have, only a roof between him and me. I wonder what he wears to bed. Cause if he can walk around the house in just sweats and that wife beater... uh oh. Mind down the gutter alert! Too damn late.
I start getting that flushed feeling, and suddenly the whole room heats up, most likely the house as well. Shit. Suddenly I hear footsteps on the roof, then down the attic stairs and down the corridor. Then the knock on my door. Make that HOLY shit.
"Yeah?" he opens the door, regardless of the fact that I could've been changing. But the minute I lay eyes on him I stop caring, myself. I was right. The only thing he wears to bed, apparently, is a pair of illegally low-slung boxers and... yep, NOTHING else. There, standing on my doorway, is Warren Peace in all his dark, muscled glory. Ladies, that has to be the most defined eight-pack I've ever seen! Okay I'm definitely drooling now. What's worse is that I can't bring myself to care cause my brain is just not working. At all. How is it that those boxers haven't fallen down yet? I don't know if I want them to, or if I want to save myself from the cardiac arrest I'm sure to enter if that were to happen. How I can still be forming long, coherent sentences is a miracle! About a minute later I have some normal brain activity and I notice he hasn't even started to talk. All he's doing is standing on my doorway, smirking, as if giving me time to get used to his amazing physique. Damn him for knowing I need the time. As soon as he notices I'm thinking again,(and Goddess only knows how he did that!) he opens his gorgeous mouth.
"Look, I really don't mind, but the Strongholds can't deal with your constant temperature changes, so, please, avoid what ever it is that triggers them, if you can't control it." Sounds bad, right? But his voice is right now so low, so sexy, yet so caring for the family he's talking about, that I can't bring myself to be insulted. Unfortunately I'm still not thinking completely straight.
"Then get out of my room." Why, oh WHY did I just say that?! His smirk only gets bigger, he raises his hands, as if surrendering, bows and leaves, closing the door behind him. The guy's got one hell of a rear... no pun intended. Oh I'm never gonna live this one down....
