CHAPTER 6: "Oh Goddess, what NOW?!"
BEEP; BEEP; BEEP; BEEEEEEEEEP!!!!!
Awww! Come on! Why the hell did you have to cut through my dream like that?! Not that I was dreaming with anyone interesting *cough* Warren *cough*. But I can't loose it again, unless I want him to come back down again and, even though that would be a perfect wake-up call, my brain is still fuzzy from sleep, and I don't need to cut my neurones' air supply this early on. I turn to look at the bed-side clock. It reads 6:46 am. Meh! Might as well get that shower going.
So after taking a (very rare) 15-minute-shower, I'm standing here, in my underwear. I am taking a risk and I know it because if a certain pyro should choose to pull of another one of his visits like last night and open my door without my permission... I'll kill him! But that's only if he's dressed. If he's not yet fully dressed, or at least wearing a shirt, then my brain probably won't register that I should be trying to kill him. Have you noticed how my whole world seems to be swirling around him? It's becoming annoying!
But, in the mean time, let us get back to my current and most urgent problem. What to wear? I start pulling clothes out of the closet and was about to throw them on my bed and leave a complete mess when I remember this isn't my house, so I can't just create the hurricane-room I'm used to. Darn it. Oh well, I guess I'll have to do this the proper way. So pulling a piece of clothing out and putting it back in, I finally settle for a jean Capri, a white tank, a red bolero top and my pretty high heeled red Mary Jane shoes. I look good, if I do say so myself. So after checking my school messenger bag has everything, I walk out to get some breakfast. Make up can wait until after. Therefore, I walk out of my room.
Air-deprivation alert! Or a perfect first sight for this sunny morning. Warren Peace, in dark, low-riding jeans and pulling a tight red t-shirt over his head. I walk out just in time to get a new angle of those perfect abs. Damn, who wouldn't want a piece of that? Earth to Sammy! React! Wake up girl! Okay, breathe! There! Shirt finally on, my brain can resume its normal functions. I look up only to see him smirking at me. ALREADY?! It's not even 8 o'clock and he's already caught me staring?! WTF?!?! Damn him!
"Morning Tempest." He says as he walks past me and down the stairs. Tempest? He gave me a nickname? And a Shakespearean one at that? I'm impressed. Not many people read Shakespeare these days, as far as I know. I personally love it. Of course, there is no way of knowing if he meant the play. But I can think whatever I want. Or... I suppose I can always ask....
I giggle, which is very unlike me, and dash down the stairs. I arrive at the kitchen to see that Warren and I are the only ones already up. Is this safe? For either one of us? But I might as well take whatever chance I'm given.
"Why did you call me 'Tempest'?" I ask, with a curious look. He turns around. He's making pancakes?! Yum!
"You're Storm's daughter, right?"
"Yeah."
"And you got your mom's powers, correct?"
"Yes. Hey, how do you know about that?" he smiles. He looks even better than when he smirks.
"I saw you." HUH? "Yesterday? You and your mom caused that rain, then you focused on making it go away. Your eyes lit up like hers."
"And you saw this... how?" I say, astonished that he was so observing.
"I was one of the last ones in, since I don't really mind getting wet." Alright I have to stop giving his words my own connotations! I shivered at that one! Fortunately he doesn't see that one, so I just nod, and carry on with my interrogation.
"But why 'Tempest'?" he looks at me. After a moment of silence, he moves his hand, motioning for me to elaborate. Déjà vu to yesterday at Mad Science. "I mean, where did you get the name from?"
"What made me think of that word?" I nod again. "The play." He says, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Oh, right, I think I forgot to mention that, beneath the whole, hottie, badass pyro act, the guy's a bookworm. How cute is that?
"You've read it?"
"Yeah. I really liked it." Okay, I have to stop having things in common with this guy.
"Why?"
"Why did I like it?" he suddenly flipped some pancakes, setting on a plate nearby the ones that were ready. I forgot he'd been cooking all this time. It makes me feel kinda bad cause he's been multitasking while I have been struggling to form coherent sentences.
"Uh hum."
"Because of the ending." Alright, he got me there. He smiles at my confused look. I'm about to melt, but first, I want to hear this. "Everyone thinks that, in the end, Prospero will have his revenge upon his enemies, yet he doesn't. He turns out to be a good person. He's not blinded by revenge, he thinks things through and makes the right choices. At least that's how I see it."
Ah, so that's why he likes it so much. I think we all know that Warren's dad is no other than Barron Battle, a super villain who was taken down and thrown in jail by the Commander and Jetstream. I guess it does make sense that he sees a bit of himself in Prospero. Don't you just love this guy? Where else are you going to find a deep, sensitive, sensible, smart, hot guy that can melt you with a smile, cooks, can make swirly chocolate mousse, AND is a pyro? This guy is husband material of such a great quality! But I try not to let all this out. I just smile back, nod, yet again, and go over to the fridge to see if there's any orange juice.
"Orange juice is on the lowest shelf on the door." I turn around as fast as I can. I'm starting to think he's also a telepath. "Lucky guess."
"Yeah, right! 'Lucky guess' my ass! How did you know I was thinking about orange juice?" this is important, and it may also explain why he always seems to press exactly the right buttons.
"You know my mom?" I half-nod, half-shake my head. I know his mom is a super heroine, I just don't know her power. Or name. "She's Pace. Which is actually Italian for 'peace'. Anyway, her powers consist of knowing people's emotions, thoughts, past traumas, you name it, and controlling them, in order to calm down her enemies. She's never used it to bring people against each other though. And she's also a healer. There's been talk of having her be ambassador for all super humans but with this 'war' there was never time. I inherited a part of her powers." Oh Goddess, somebody save me. "It's not quite telepathy, it kinda like... reading people. Knowing what they want, what they need, what they're looking for." Alright, I'm about to panic. "Don't. I keep it off most of the times. But I'm still slightly sleepy, which tends to make my control on my 'reading' slip a bit. That's how I knew."
"Long answer. But I guess honesty's better than anything." He smiles and nods. "Anyway, as long as you stay out of my head or what ever it is you can do, we're good."
He smirks. Oh Goddess, why - ? No! He's still sleepy!! He may catch whatever it is you're thinking so shut it! 'And what exactly is it that you don't want me to read?' Thanking the heavens that I didn't faint I turn to look at him, to see him smirking widely, putting the pile of pancakes on the table.
"What happened to 'it's not quite telepathy'?!" he laughs.
"It's not, but how did you expect my mom to control people? She has to be able to project her thoughts!" he says, the smirk back in place. I'm so fucking doomed. I look at the kitchen clock. It's 7.20 am. Doesn't that mean we're late?
"Will is, in any case." Warren says from over his shoulder as he moves towards the stairs.
"I thought you said you kept it off most of the time." I retort angrily. He chuckles.
"Yeah, but it's fun keeping you on edge. WILL!" he yells, making me jump. Who knew he had such a strong voice. This guy could make Boomer shut up! "WILLIAM THEODORE STRONGHOLD! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE, OR YOU DON'T GET PANCAKES!" we hear a crash from upstairs, and laugh. Apparently Will doesn't want to miss the pancakes.
"I though that was Mrs. Stronghold's job." I mention, with my own smirk.
"Perhaps, but they were out late, last night. Emergency call from downtown. So I get the pleasure of making him squirm today." He really doesn't seem to mind. "I don't. She's like a second mom." This time I don't mind having him read me. He is one sweet guy, when he wants to.
"But wouldn't yelling wake them up?" he nods.
"Yeah, but that's actually a good thing. By doing this I let them sleep in a bit, but that doesn't mean they don't have a day life. So I wake them up, take care of breakfast and get Will to school, in one go. After that, they organise their time as they need to." I'm impressed. And he doesn't need to read me to know that. He smiles at the look on my face. "It's the least I can do. When I became friends with Will, they didn't judge me, they welcomed me. And now that my mom has to go to fight, they offer me a room. I owe them." I wait for him to turn over to a boxer-clad Will before I think again. Of course, the sight is nowhere near as stunning as Warren's version. Okay, now it's safe to think this: I LOVE THIS GUY!!!!!
"We're going to be late." I state. It's a fact. There's just no way around it. Will had to even call Ron, bus driver, and tell him we were going to be late. Apparently again.
"Little ray o' sunshine aren't ya?" Warren smirks. I make a face and turn to Will.
"Now what?" he also smirks. Uh oh.
"Now, we fly to school." I brighten up.
"Awesome! Do you know where the school is?" he handed me a device that looked suspiciously like a GPS. I turn it in my hand and read the back: "Sky High Locator". Cool...
"They give all flying seniors this. They'll probably give you yours today, since you weren't in tutor period yesterday." Warren says. I shrug.
"What are we waiting for?"
"Nothing."
Warren smirks, jumping into the air with a jet of fire under his feet. Show off. Will also takes off, holding the GPS out in front of him. Calling the air around me, I lift myself into the air for the first time in weeks. I'd almost forgotten the thrill. I smile, happier than I've been in a while, close my eyes and let the wind twirl me around for a moment. I feel a pair of strong, warm hands hold my waist and I open my eyes and look behind me to see Warren, with a smile on his face, nodding towards Will, who's already heading towards the school, wherever it may be today.
I nod, then head off. He follows me closely, then stretches out his hand. I look at him.
"Give me your bag, you seem as if you haven't flown in a while." I could kiss this guy. But I just stuff my shoes, and bolero top into the bag, hand it over, and start zooming around, relishing in the feel of the wind against my skin. I'll be a bit tired when I get to school, but who cares? No tiredness can compare to the feeling of the wind in my hair, the freedom of my current weightlessness. It's relaxing to say the least. I can feel Warren's eyes on me, as scorching as the fire in his veins. I have no idea why he's staring at me. But at the moment I don't have a care in the world. I suppose I must be a bit of a show: my wild, white hair, my bare feet, twirling and zooming, so happy that there's not a cloud in sight. What can I say? I like poetry, and I like corniness. It's fairly noticeable in the way I talk sometimes.
Finally, we get to school. It's way outside of Maxville. The skies are clear, but there is no danger of being seen cause the school produces its own cloud cover. My hair is looking wild, but I just pull it into a particularly messy bun and forget about it. Warren pulls out my shoes and top before we land and throws them at me. Catching them, I put the shoes on, throw the bolero top on, and land next to Layla, Maj, Zach and Ethan, who did manage to catch the bus. But I think the flight is more than worth being late.
"Hey guys." I say as cheerful as I've been in a while, taken my bag from Warren, and smiling at him in thanks. He smiles back. Thank Goddess Layla and Maj were there. After the flight, and that smile, my legs are so not working properly. LOL. Alright, time for school. It appears we landed just in time. That's the bell. We head straight off to class. Hold on. What class do I have? I can hear Warren snorting so I just turn to him for an answer.
"You are in every single one of my classes so you might as well stick by me." Oh no. How am I supposed to concentrate in class, let alone pass if he's in all my classes?! But wait a minute! Logan gave me permission not to give a shit about classes! YAY! Now, I just have to hope he doesn't catch me staring and he hasn't read all this. What are the odds? No snort so far, so the odds are good.
"Well, care to tell me what class it is I'm supposed to be following you to?" he chuckles. Uggh! Why does he have to make it so difficult to stay angry at him?
"Hero History." I stare at him. Is that even a class? "Unfortunately for us, there is such a class, and it's THE most boring class ever. And the teacher is just like Harry Potter's History teacher, safe for the fact that ours is very much alive. A pity really. Because this one doesn't even make a grand entrance."
Warren was right. Again. This class has to be the most boring class ever devised in the history of schools. How can someone manage to make grand battles between the greatest heroes and villains of the world sound so fucking boring? I will never know. I've been sitting at the very back of this class, next to Warren, for 30 minutes, and I'm already on the verge of falling asleep.
'Warren?' I think. And I hope he's listening.
'Yeah?' YAY ME!
'Why didn't you warn me about this?'
'I did.' He thought back. He's not even bothering lifting his head. He's just trying to sleep resting his head on his arms. Which is really a great view if you consider the fact the, by bending his arms as he is, he continuously flexes his arm muscles. But I suppose it's not a good idea for me to be thinking about it in the middle of a mental conversation. Suddenly he lifts his upper body fully, stretching and flexing until I'm a hair away from drooling.
'You so totally did that on purpose.' I mentally throw at him accusatorily. He smirks.
'Admit it. You completely walked into that one! You need to get a hold of your thoughts.'
'Did NOT!' I mentally squeal, pouting as only I can. Or so I've been told. Did you know you can mentally squeal?
'Did too. And that is a very cute pout. So cute, in fact, that I might just give in. To what I have no idea. But I didn't know you could mentally squeal. Leave it to you to find out.' I half-pout half-smile. He let's out a breathless chuckle, trying to be as quiet as possible.
'You're supposed to give in to my charms and go on a guilt trip for trying to knowingly seduce me!' I retort, looking around to make sure no one's noticed. Not that we're being particularly loud (is it just me or does that sound... wrong?) but a couple of pointed looks and hand gestures are sometimes enough to make people turn to look at you. His smirk becomes wider.
'I don't do guilt trips for that. And I didn't know you needed further seducing .' I gasp as quietly as I can in my indignation. How dare he say that?! He tries to keep the laughter at bay. Then...
'AHA! So you ARE trying to seduce me!' he stops laughing and turns to look straight into my eyes, with the most seductive smirk I've ever seen. ALERT, ALERT, oxygen levels in the brain are dangerously low!!!!! SHIT!!! What the fuck is he doing? He's leaning towards me! We could get caught! He's grabbing my arm, pulling me towards him. His hand is so warm! And strong, and right now, it's the only thing that's holding me up since I seem to have turned into a spineless pile of goo. Oh Goddess what does he think he's doing?!?!?!
"Oh I didn't do it on purpose... to begin with... but the results were so much fun... I just had to turn up the heat... and you haven't disappointed..." I don't think I ever truly grasped the concept of being turned on before this. Correct me if I'm wrong but I think I'm entitled to being this flustered if I can literally feel Warren Peace's lips brushing against my ear, his breath tickling my neck, and his deep voice whispering stuff like that , making me shiver, purposely making my thoughts go down the gutter. And if he keeps this up I'm going to stay in that gutter for a while. I swear to what ever higher being wants to listen that I've never been closer to grabbing his head and kissing him!
RIIIIING!!!! Okay, so I literally jump a foot because of the fucking bell. Warren let's go of my arm, grabs his bag, then my bag, then pulls me off my feet and out of the class. I have to thank the guy for it because there is no way in hell I could've left the class on my own. Not in my current catatonic state. Through the concrete-dense fog surrounding my brain, I begin to wonder what class we have next, and how the hell I'll be able to pretend to be paying attention.
"It's Mad Science. And don't worry, I think I can hold your interest for the next 40 minutes, until you recover your normal brain functions." I don't need to look at him to realise he probably has the biggest smirk ever. And I can't blame him. I would too if I had to be practically carrying myself to the next class. He chuckles. "How is it that you didn't see that coming?" that finally makes me react.
"You're the people reader, and I don't yet know you well enough to know all the crazy ways you have to.. to... UGHH!!"
For the first time in our... acquaintance, I hear him laugh. We're turning heads as we walk down the corridor towards Mad Science. Or rather he is. Although I don't suppose it's every day that Warren Peace half-carries, half-drags the new girl to a class. For apparently no reason. Girls left, right and centre are swooning for him and glaring daggers at me. But I can't care. Not after what he just told me. Goddess I can't get over that!
"Well get over it, cause we're mere steps away from Medulla's class." I glare at him. As much as I can.
"Oh shut it, this is your fault." He has the nerve, yet again, to look amused.
"My fault? I'm not to blame for whatever effect I may have on certain people!"
"HA! Don't gimme that! You may not be able to control said effect but - " we duck our heads and I shut up, as we pass in front of Medulla's desk, just as he is passing roll call. Finally, we sit at our desk. "but you can at least make sure you don't affect people so much that you actually have to carry them half-way around the school!" I finish in a loud whisper. He snorts quietly.
"Come on, Tempest, I'm a guy. Do you really think that if I have such an effect on girls, and that I know about it, I'm not going to use it on the one girl I find most interesting?" I do a double take. And it seems that the nickname has stuck.
"You find me... interesting?" he smiles.
"You should know you are a very appealing girl."
"Appealing? Seriously? Is that the best you can come up with?" he rolls his eyes at me.
"Okay, so what do you want me to say? That you're hot? Fine! You, Samantha Munroe, are hot! You're an extremely attractive girl, and you're very special, in your own "different" kind of way. Am I attracted to you? Of course I am! Was that what you needed to hear?" To say I'm surprised will be the understatement of the millennium. That wasn't what I expected to hear, but I sure as hell am pleased that I heard it. If that's what he comprehends in his definition of appealing I'll never complain to him calling me appealing again. He laughs quietly.
"You truly are one of a kind, Tempest." I smile.
"Aren't we all?" Warren huffs.
"Like hell we are. Sure, we're supposed to be, but so many people in this planet strive to be 'normal'. So many idiots around the world just want to be part of a group that requires a standard of... well, normalcy. Personality is underrated, attitude is sneered at, and being different is the world's greatest fear. It's a mass of people wanting to be exactly the same as the next person, not understanding that the beauty of this world lays in the variety of its people."
At this point, Medulla tells us to shut up, and keep quiet. Apparently we have a very important class right then. So Warren and I have to keep our traps shut and work, for once. Damn him.
After that, the day transforms into a flurry of classes during which I just can't talk to Warren. He had apparently finished saying what he had to say on the subject, but I can feel that there's something missing of his speech. Which, by the way was something I never expected. Is this guy deep or what? Finally, at lunch I see him sitting at our table so I go to sit next to him. I am about to open my mouth when Layla appears out of thin air, panting.
"Warren, apparently the shock of a new girl saved you from yesterday's attack, but the senior girls have a whole parade ready for you. Go hide somewhere. Make it good."
"Aw, shit!" okay what is going on here? A parade? What are they on about? Is it his birthday? I look at Warren. "I'll tell you once we're safe." Oh, okay. Whoa, whoa, whoa! WE? What has this got to do with me?!
Apparently a lot. Warren grabs my hand and makes me run with him down a corridor. Suddenly, a group of girls turns the corner.
"He's HERE!" WTF?!
"Later!" he yells. He grabs my hand and runs in the opposite direction. I take a moment to look back, confident that he won't let me crash into anything and I see the biggest swarm of girls I've ever seen. They seem to be dressed for a special occasion. W...T...F...?
Then, the screaming started. But it was all so mixed up, and the running didn't help either. This school has a lotta turns! Plus, Warren was the one who was holding my hand and making me run away with him from a bunch of squealing teenagers. I was dizzy. All I could make out over the yells, was something along the lines of "Warren we love you" and "What's that bitch doing with him?!" I guess they didn't really consider the possibility of me just being an innocent bystander.
"Warren, have you considered the possibility –" I let out a small shriek at this point as he pulls me into a cleaning closet and bolts the door.
"I'm running away from those girls because they want to parade for me." He whispers. He says only just slightly out of breath. Man the guy's in some serious shape cause I'm already starting to positively pant for breath! He raises an eyebrow and smirks. I grimace slightly.
"Okay, change of subject. Is it your birthday or something?" he grimaces now. He looks very handsome when he frowns... but I shouldn't really be thinking that because he could catch it. Too damn late. Damn that smirk.
"No, it's not my birthday. Ask Layla later. It's so ridiculous. But thanks." Damn this man and his whispers and damn this fucking closet for being so small. I can feel his every breath on my collarbone. Damn him also for having at least a foot worth of height over me, heels and all.
"Is that why she gave you the heads up?" he nods. "And have you considered that they are most likely checking every single closet for you?" he looks at me as if I were stupid. Nice to know some things just don't change.
"One, I don't think you're stupid. Just a bit air-headed every once in a while. And two, I know they are looking. As annoying as they are, I have to admit they are thorough." I shrug.
"So, what now?" he shrugs. Then... "Hey, I have an idea!" he looks at me. He raises an eyebrow, still waiting for me to spill my master plan. "Let's go hide in the Principal's office!" so now he's staring at me as if I've lost my mind. "It's a good idea!" I can practically see the wheels turning in his head.
"You can't possibly see that, seeing as there are no wheels in my head. But I guess it is a good idea." I smile. Finally he acknowledges it! "I already told you. I don't think you're stupid." He adds with a smile. So no we have a plan. Only trouble is, his stalkers have apparently reached our closet. "Okay, NOW what?"
"Use your powers!" Come again say WHAT?! He huffs. So cute! BAD SAMMY! You're about to be attacked by a flock of killer girls with a crush on the pyro you're currently hiding with in a very tight closet! THIS IS NOT THE MOMENT!!!!
"You're right, it's not! But you can use your powers. Control what little breeze there is in the corridor, throw them off, while we run for the principal's office!" AHHH, NOW he's making sense. He smirks, shaking his head.
"Okay." I wait until they are close enough so that the attack will be effective but not too close so that we won't be able to escape. My eyes start glowing whiter than my hair and suddenly a gush of wind knocks half of the girls off their feet while the other half whines about not being able to pass through. Warren and I burst out of the closet, he grabs my hand, yet again, seeing as I have no clue as to where the frigging office is and we set off.
Apparently, the office wasn't that far. Either that or we've run a serious distance from the cafeteria. In any case, a few turns and corridors later, we finally make it to the office. Apparently, Powers' secretary is out for lunch because there is no one behind the counter. Taking our only shot, we jump behind it, laughing our asses off.
"Care to explain now?" I ask. I'm now down right panting, between the runs and the laughing.
"They're my... how can I put this... fan club." He practically spits out the last part. But I'm rolling on the floor with laughter. He's running away from the FANCLUB?! You gotta be kidding me! "I'm not kidding! Ask the hippie or purple girl! They'll vouch for it. Sometimes I just can't wait for graduation." I stop laughing and raise my eyebrows.
"Oh you think this is going to stop after graduation? Ever heard of college? You know, big place, with lots of young adults, where you're supposedly learning but in reality it's just one big party/orgy?" he has to laugh at that. Have I mentioned I love making him laugh? Oops. Let's hope he didn't hear that. He seems to be too busy laughing. Good!
"So what's the prognosis for my college life?" I smile, then make a mock worried face.
"Things don't look good for you, young man." We start laughing all over again. Suddenly the bell rings, signalling our return to classes. "You think it's safe?"
"It is, they are all returning to class at this time. Not to mention I doubt they want to miss today's Safe the Citizen." Warren and I look at each other. Uh oh. We peek from behind the secretary's counter to see Principal Powers standing there, luckily with a very amused look on her face. We sigh with relief. "Now run along. You wouldn't want to disappoint your fans." I can see Warren holding in a groan. LOL.
Thanking the Principal, we set off towards the gym. Then I realise I have to get my uniform.
"What uniform?"
"My X-uniform. I don't have the school-issued uniform. So the Principal allowed me to use mine. Which is just as well, cause I love my uniform!" he smirks, shaking his head. After our detour towards my locker, we run over to the gym. Only to find the arena is not out today. Walking over to where Layla, Will, Maj, Zach and Ethan are standing, we see that everyone is wearing their uniforms. And that all the girls are torn between hating me, and looking at Warren.
"What's going on?" I ask. Layla smiles at us, as if knowing what had happened. I have to remember to tell her that NOTHING happened.
"Today we're just going to be practicing. They normally put us in groups of 4 like a mini-Save-the-Citizen. So you guys better go change." I nod.
"Hey, do you know what group I'll be in?" I don't want to land myself a group of the fan club!
"Probably with us. That's to say Will, Warren and me. Will and Warren are always together, and seeing as Will always picks me, and we'd be one person short, and you're the new girl and our friend, you'll probably land in our group." I simply nod. The 'probably with us' had sufficed me but Layla's to cheery to be end it there. Warren snorts quietly. Then we set off for our respective changing rooms. I just can't wait to see the look on people's faces when I walk out with an X-team uniform. LOL. I pull it on, zip up my boots, adjust my hair into a tight ponytail and put on the hair band. A classic from my mom's, she had one made especially for me. I personally love it. But I already told you about that! Anyway, Layla and Maj come in to look for me just as I finish stuffing my clothes into the bag.
"OH MY GOD! Where did you get that?!" I laugh. Damn it feels good!
"I come from Xavier's Institute. My mother is co-leader of the X-men team. I got it last year for my 16th birthday!" they are still gawking at the suit. I smile. Then they smile at me, shake their heads, and lead the way out. But I stop short of the entrance to the gym. I don't need Warren to see me drooling like yesterday, over him. So I stick to the shadows for a while. Layla and Maj are giving me the "come out" look, but I signal for them to wait. And so, hot pyro comes out. YUM. I hadn't noticed that the pants were THAT tight, or that the upper part was as fitted. DAMN he looks good. He pays no attention to all the glaring boys and drooling girls though, and heads straight for the gang. This was exactly what I wanted. I step out of the changing rooms, seemingly under a spotlight, and catch Warren's eyes. He smirks at first, seeing my dazed look, but then, he sees the uniform. OH YEAH! HE TOTALLY CHECKED ME OUT!!!!!
So as my heels (yes people, my uniform boots have high heels, got a problem with that?) start click-clacking on the gym floor, people turn towards me. Perfect entrance or what? HAHA! This is what I love about being me! People are STARING. Thinking like this kinda makes me feel like some sort of self-centred narcissist. Have I mentioned that, apart from the high-heeled boots, my suit has practically no back, the classic "Storm" 'wings', and is skin tight? No? Oh well, now you know. This is seriously fun. I don't need no special power to know that except for the gang, which I suppose I can now call MY gang, every girl is glaring and every boy is drooling. Gradually though, people go back to their own business. Thankfully. I like attention every once in a while. I think everybody does. But being under constant scrutiny is not in my to-do list.
But you have no idea just how great it feels to have Warren's eyes following my every move. Obviously he's not one to feel embarrassment. Uh oh. What's he doing? He doesn't need to come near me! Not in THAT! I'm fine as it is, the view is great and everything but as cool as I feel in my suit, he's an expert at turning up the heat! A heat that I, literally and metaphorically, CAN'T control. No, no, stay back! Down boy! Bad Warren! Bad Warren! And.... brain meltdown... why does he have to grab me by the waist in a tight suit with no sleeves?! And I don't need to stand this close to... alright, make that, be pressed against him, like this... oh Goddess what now?!
I don't think it's necessary to mention the fact that I can feel every single one of his muscles.
"No, it's not necessary to tell me. But I don't think it's fair that you complain about the effect I have on you and you pay no care to the effect you have on... others..." the will power I needed to hold in what probably could've been a moan... he shouldn't be allowed to do that! His voice isn't just a whisper. It is a sexy whine. It goes without saying that I would be on the floor by now if he wasn't holding me up. And let me tell you: ... sorry, I can't think straight yet. Gimme a sec. Breath in, breath out, count to 10. Okay, that's better. Let me tell you that he's holding me as close as is humanly possible!
"Uh... others?" I'm stuttering again. Why, rather HOW can he make me.... I don't know what he does to me, but he does it with an ease I don't particularly appreciate.
"You want me to say only me? Fine. You do affect me." I don't know how this looks to everybody else, I'll have to ask Layla afterwards if my brain is not completely vegetated by then. But right now, he is whispering things in my ear, pressing me against him, and- oh Goddess, please tell me that is NOT what I think it is, cause if it is I'll jump this guy, right here, right now. I bite my lip in an attempt to suppress another moan. He simply chuckles. This guy has no shame.
"And those are the teams! START!" Boomer. How dare he break the spell like that! I was off in my own little world being pressed up against the hottest guy in the whole, wide world, and he tells us to go practice Goddess knows what stupid exercise! Son of a b....
Warren let's out a bark of laughter and I just know he's been in my head. Like he's been doing the rest of the day. I have to fix that. But maybe when he's got other clothes on and my head is a bit clearer.
Layla pulls me away from him by the hand to where we are supposed to be practicing. What? Don't know, don't give a shit.
Okay, so it's about 4.30 pm, and right now I'm lying on my bed, trying to calm down after the whole 'pressed-up-against-Warren' thing from earlier today. I wish I could be more detailed about what happened from then up to now. But I have absolutely no clue. It's just a blur. So don't ask. Anyway, I need to talk to him. But he's not here yet. He's doing a shift at this Chinese restaurant a couple o' blocks away. Gosh I need to talk to him...
*Blink* 6.45 pm?!?!?!?! I slept over two hours?! How come? Hey! This means Warren's probably home! Get up Sam. Girl, get up. You need to go talk to him. Shit, Samantha, get the fuck up!
Alright. I'm up. Now get comfy, THEN got talk to him. I throw on the same tank and shorts from yesterday while I hear footsteps up the corridor and the attic stairs. Now he's definitely home!
I go out the door and head for his room. I just have to tell him to stay out of my head. That's all. That's it. That's all the needs to be done, or said. I go up the attic stairs and raise my hand to knock on his door.
"Come in Tempest." Son of a b.... ugh, what ever, I'm coming in! So I barge in, throwing the words at him.
"Okay, see here, you can't just... just... oh... my... Goddess..." the bastard is in nothing but a frigging TOWEL!!!!! This is worse than that McSteamy scene! He is literally dripping, covered in nothing but a piece of whatever it is that towels are made off. And that is about as coherent as I'm getting...
"You never really were that coherent, were you?" he has the guts to smirk at me. Sam, turn around and say what you came to say. Then get the HELL out!
"Just get out of my head."
"Why? It's fun." Oh, now I'm gonna kill him!
"Fun?" I say turning around and walking over to him. "It's not fun for me when you... when you... shit." He is turning up his body temperature, drying himself off immediately, and given off a load of steam. How is it that every time I look at this guy he comes up with a new way of making me drool? I'm a foot away from him, staring, and completely unable to do anything aside of that. And breathing. What's worse is that the heat is affecting me, the steam is making me sweat. I hate that.
"Sam?" so now he resorts to waving a hand in my face. I manage to blink and look up at his face instead of his chest.
"Yeah? Oh right. Just, stay out of my head. I don't care if it's fun, or if you get a kick out of it, or if your self esteem needs it. Mine's suffering because of it. So stuff it." He chuckles.
"You are right. This is an invasion of your privacy and I will reduce it to a minimum. I'm afraid I've gotten used to it so I might accidentally read a couple of things now and again. As for your self esteem suffering for it, I wouldn't think it would, given the little display earlier today." His voice is low, implications bubbling under the surface of his words, and I suddenly don't know if he's talking about my display... or his.
"Both." Oh. Well, at least the steam has cleared off and I'm starting to think better.
"Yours is your problem. As for my 'display', as you call it. That is my X-uniform. Made for me, designed by me, and approved by my dad. I don't see how you can have a problem with it. And you customised your uniform yourself." He laughs out right. Gosh this isn't helping me!
"I don't have a problem with it. On the contrary, I think I made it quite clear that I very much like it." I gulp at this. I still can't forget the feeling of his uniform pants tight against my thigh. I was a hair away from jumping him. As I already said. "Regardless, it was still a display of confidence. And if you think you need help with self-esteem, then practice."
"What? Like you?" I retort. He can be terribly annoying when he wants to!
"With me." Okay that was unexpected!
"Say what?" he half-huffs, half-smiles. We are seemingly getting somewhere.
"You say I attack your self-esteem. Then practice not being affected by me."
"I guess that does make sense. But I don't want any weird stuff! No... groping, no whispering in my ear, no pulling me towards you when I least expect it..." he laughs, moving away from me, towards his closet for something to wear.
"I will admit to the last two, but when exactly did I grope you?" he asks, amused.
"Oh you know what I mean!" he laughs again and I manage a small smile.
"Don't stay there standing. You can sit on the bed if you want." Sit on Warren Peace's bed. This I have to do! I launch my self on it, bouncing slightly. I can hear him laughing. Then I hear a faint plop. He has started throwing his clothes on the bed, next to me. And the first item of clothing is...
"Boxer-briefs?" I suppress a shiver as he turns to look at me.
"What?" I shrug.
"I always pictured you as more of a boxers kind of guy." He shrugs.
"I find these more comfortable." I personally find them more sexy, but I have the right to hit him if he comments about that. He admitted it was an invasion of my privacy! Despite all that, he still chuckles.
"Thanks."
"Ugh, piss off." He laughs again.
"Okay, you're either gonna have to leave, or turn around." I look at him.
"HUH?" he huffs, mockingly annoyed.
"I have to dress..."
"Oh." The idea of being in the same room as Warren while he's dressing is mind-numbing. To the point were he finally has to get over to me, lift me from the bed, and set me down looking in the other direction. He sure knows how to tie that towel.
"You have a lot of work to do." I nearly turned to growl something at him when I remember he's probably still stark naked on the other side of the bed, pulling on clothes. So I suppress the impulse, the groan and stay put.
"Done." HUH?
"How can you have fin.... asshole." He laughs. He wasn't done. He had simply finished pulling on his underwear and was half-way done with pulling a pair of sweat pants on. And from the peek I take over my shoulder I have only one thing to say: he has a very nice ass. BAD SAMMY!!!!!
"Alright, now I do have my pants on." I turn around just a bit. Yeah. For once, he's telling the truth. I still have to control myself from staring at his chest but it's better than nothing. "Now come on. We have to get to the kitchen. Mr. and Mrs. Stronghold were called when I got here, so dinner's up to us. And Will is, most likely, already complaining about the lack of food." I laugh while he grabs a shirt and pulls me off the bed towards the door. After these two days, you can't blame me for taking a moment to contemplate what else this year may have in store for me...
