Awake
Sorry I haven't updated in a couple of days – things have been busy as I've been getting ready for the school year. Enjoy the new chapter!
It took awhile to adjust to life without Mike and mom. I was constantly jumpy and terrified of any loud noises, my ears seemed to be able to detect the slightest of sounds, it was hard to communicate without assuming the worst intentions out of someone, and I had trouble concentrating in school. Even though the visits to the therapist helped, it was like my life was missing a puzzle piece that had fit into it for so long and was now trying to recuperate by adding extra stresses to every little thing I did. My sleep schedule was complete and utter shit since I had gotten a job alongside Warren at the Paper Lantern and barely had time to do my homework before I passed out at night, and as much as Cyclone was trying to help me find an apartment it was hard to wrap my head around the fact that I would be living alone at seventeen. All in all, the bags underneath my eyes were back and I was still stressed beyond belief. Despite this, a part of me felt free. I was free from the clutches of a horrible lifestyle and hell – my mother was in safe hands and healing, and Mike would be locked up for a long time for the crimes that he committed. Besides the new stresses that came along with an independent lifestyle and my emotional baggage, I had a huge weight that was lifted off of my shoulders.
In terms of finding a living space, my salvation came when one of the cooks at the Paper Lantern informed me that one of the apartments in the attached building above was offering a very small one bedroom apartment for five hundred a month. Considering I got about seven hundred for welfare, this was a fantastic price range for me, and meant that I could work comfortably without worrying about getting rent paid each month. The living space itself was small; it included a tiny bathroom and bedroom with a pathetic excuse for a kitchen, but there was enough space for a small table and a couple chairs as well as an area where a couch and TV could fit. None of it could be big furniture, but it was good enough for one person. I took the offer as soon as possible, ready to begin a life on my own and glad that it was near my place of work. Although my neighborhood hadn't changed at all throughout this nightmare, the different setting provided me a place of peace where I was sure to live comfortably and safely. It was new and a bit intimidating, but all around positive.
"It's a little bare," Cyclone admitted as she looked around the bleak apartment on a Sunday night after I had been moved in. "But it'll fill up eventually."
I nodded, gazing around the open space and wondering what the hell I was going to with myself in my spare time here. She had helped me move my mattresses and my posters from my old home, taking the time out of her day to assist me with a spare dresser she and Warren had in storage and doing some groceries. It was a wonderful effort on her part; she had helped tremendously over the week – but now it was time for her to go, and I would be alone.
"Are you sure you don't want to stay with us for a little longer?" She offered, helping me put the last of my groceries away. "We wouldn't mind at all."
"You've helped more than you could ever imagine," I shook my head, smiling towards the woman gratefully. "Thank you."
She left with some last contact information, making sure that I knew that I could call her whenever I needed and that I was more than welcome in their home. This thought comforted me; knowing that I was accepted and had a place to stay if I was not willing to be on my own for a night was very important, and set my mind more at ease when I thought about living alone. But as soon as Cyclone was out that door, I felt more alone than ever. It was the silence that I didn't like the most – I would have expected to enjoy it after all of the noise in my life, but it was horrible and ringing in my ears like an annoying bug. It wouldn't go away, no matter how much I hummed to myself or how much I ran the sink. The silence was what pushed me to go out and buy a radio that evening. I listened to it until I fell asleep comfortably, happy that it drowned out the sounds of the silence and extinguished any angry voices in my head. Perhaps my biggest problem of all was that part of my own brain had been agreeing to the horrible lifestyle in the beginning and was still having trouble adjusting to my new one.
The next morning at school, however, I found that the silence haunted me again. I could only escape it after third period, when I managed to steal some time away in the washroom to reapply the heavy mask of makeup I wore and have some time to myself. Hiding in a bathroom stall wasn't one of the most pathetic things that I had done, but it ranked pretty high up there on the list, so I didn't try to spend to much time making sure that all of the bruises were covered and found my way to the cafeteria. It had been an awkward couple of days after I moved into my apartment; Layla and her friends had continuously sat at our table and prodded at Warren's temper, causing him to leave the lunchroom in a huff and ranting to me on the bus on the way to our shift each night. This meant that all of the drama was getting dumped on me – the one person who had no expertise in this field at all – and I found myself getting less and less motivated to get to know these people once I saw how they treated poor Warren. It seemed to me that to Layla, he was no more than a tool to use to get to Will, and to the others, he was an intimidating personality that they wanted to conquer to move up on the social scale. Despite this, they were clearly making an effort to try and get to know us, and perhaps after a little while they could prove my negative assumptions wrong.
"Here," I handed back my copy of Fight Club to Warren, smiling brightly despite the pain in my face. "It was fantastic – thank you."
"No problem," He nodded, taking the book and placing it in his bag. I nervously pulled a copy of Catcher In The Rye and held it out towards him, noting the slight twist of his lips upwards as his eyes caught the cover. He reached out and took it, holding it in his hands for a moment as if he was admiring the copy in complete perfection.
"I saw a charred copy of it on your desk," I explained, letting a chuckle escape my lips. "I thought you might want a new one."
"To keep?" Warren looked towards me doubtfully, playing with the cover page. "Are you sure?"
"Until I want to read it again," I laughed, seating myself at the table and pulling out a sandwich I had made myself. "Yes, to keep."
"Much appreciated," He nodded with an approving grunt, picking up his copy of Crime and Punishment and continuing to read. "Thank you."
I pulled out my own copy of Gulliver's Travels and continued to read whilst I ate my lunch, shooting nervous smiles at Layla and her gang as they sat down and began to talk as usual. It was getting tedious watching her angrily stare down Will each time he walked by the lunch table, and it felt kind of strange that the only reason she had approached and was now becoming friends with Warren was to make Will jealous.
"Nobody'll mess with us now," The boy clad in orange – who I had recently learnt was named Ethan – smiled around the table. "We've got an official spot here."
"No you don't," Warren retaliated immediately, staring him down. "No one does."
"Well," Ethan retaliated, motioning towards me. "She sits here every day!"
"Elle's been here since the first day of school," Warren growled, and I looked towards him with a soft smile at my nickname. "And she doesn't talk like a broken record like you numskulls!"
"Oh yeah," Magenta butted in as she looked towards me, a smirk creeping across her face. "I was gonna tell you I like your tattoos."
"Oh," My lips spread into a slight smile, voice still shy and soft as I met her eyes. "T-thank you."
"She's got amazing tattoos everywhere," Magenta explained. "Everywhere – there's a wicked Lord of The Rings one on her back. It's the white tree of Gondor with the one ring's scripture – freakin' awesome."
"You're a geek," Layla shook her head, not knowing anything that she was referring too.
"Shut up!" Magenta shoved her, causing a ripple of laughter to shoot through our table. Will passed by on the way to his usual table with Gwen, staring longingly at his old friends as they continued to laugh without him, and I vaguely noted Layla's forlorn expression. Whilst I felt slightly resentful that she had gotten Warren unwillingly involved in her stupid freshman drama, I felt sympathetic towards her and her situation. Will was a bit of an idiot for not understanding that Layla was completely in love with him, and to NOT realize what a horrible person Gwen was, so to watch Layla go through what could possibly be her worst nightmare made me feel for her.
"Eleanor," Layla turned to me, clearly desperate for conversation and trying to get Will out of her head. "Are you going to the dance?"
"Uhm," I nervously fingered the rest of my uneaten sandwich and tried to ignore the way that Warren shifted uncomfortably next to me. "I haven't really thought about it."
"You should come," She smiled sweetly. "It'll be a lot of fun."
Before I could say anything more to her, however, the bell rang signaling the end of the lunch period and caused me to lift myself from my seat beside Warren to venture to our Mad Science class. We had a minute to ourselves whilst Medulla collected his papers for the class – this period was dedicated to a test about shrink rays – and I took the time to thank Warren one last time for the help that he and his mother had given me several days prior.
"Hey," I nudged him softly to get his attention after we had both pulled out our textbooks. "I-I wanted to say thank you...again. For everything."
He took a deep breath, as if he was trying to muster the courage to say something, and then let it out slowly.
"I'm an angry person," He admitted, meeting my eyes. "But I didn't think that anything would make me as angry as I used to be with my dad."
I stayed silent at that; we hadn't talked about his father much before and I wasn't intending on bringing the topic up anytime soon, so to hear him bring it up was a first. Especially considering the fact that if anyone else mentioned his father in his vicinity Warren would try to torch them like he did with Will, I wanted to be cautious with what I said or not say anything at all. The only information I had gotten about Baron Battle ever before was drawn from live television when he used to go on his rampages, fueled by rage and burning everything in his path. It always took a lot to stop him each time or at least scare him away, but when the Commander finally caught him the relief was felt far and wide. In fact, if the Baron had been so abusive and terrifying for the entire nation, what made Warren so angry with the Stronghold family for putting him away? Shouldn't he have been slightly thankful that the reign of terror his father had held over the city was over? That millions of lives were saved and the the people didn't have to worry about being burned alive anymore? Despite all of the questions I had about the topic, I chose to lock them away for the time being; I didn't want to have a deep conversation and upset him by digging too far.
No other words were shared – Medulla had begun to hand out the tests and we were soon consumed by the array of questions in front of us. I had been doing relatively good in all of my courses except for Mad Science, and since I had been exposed to such traumatic events I hadn't had time to study for the upcoming test. Mid-terms were going to be happening soon, so if I didn't get my act together soon I would be screwed. So, nervously taking out my pencil and trying to muster up any knowledge I had about shrink rays, I began to write. I stumbled my way through what felt like University level engineering questions, terms I was certain I had never heard before and diagrams that were most definitely NOT shrink rays. By the end of the period I was trembling nervously and trying to convince myself that maybe it wasn't so bad, when in all reality I knew that it was.
Warren seemed to detect some slight anxiousness afterwards as we made our way silently to Save the Citizen, but didn't say anything until after we were seated and changed into our gym clothes. Boomer hadn't commented on my tattoos yet – leading me to assume that Sky High didn't have a policy against tattoos or piercings (the multiple studs on my face proved that) – nor called me to play Save the Citizen, so I continued to hide towards the back of the stands with Warren each gym class in hopes that Boomer wouldn't spot me. I was fortunate again this class, and watched as two students were selected as per usual to fight against our local school villains, Lash and Speed. The bullies hadn't done much to me in my time here, perhaps completely passing by my existence and only noting me as Warren Peace's friend, which gave them all the more reason not to bother me. Either way, I saw that they were cruel bullies and each time they were beat I let a haughty smirk shine on my face. It was then, after the match had been going on for a good three minutes and Speed and Lash were gradually being beaten, that Warren spoke up.
"How are your classes?" He asked, his tone laced with a clear hint that he knew what was going on.
"Not too bad," I grimaced. "Mad Science is killing me, though. I can't get the hang of what Medulla is saying."
There was a beat of silence as we watched Speed get tossed to the other side of the gym thanks to a girl with the power to emit shock waves.
"I could help," Warren offered, satisfied to have figured out what was bugging me. "It's not so hard once you learn some tricks. Medulla makes it sound a lot more complicated than it actually is."
"You'd do that?" I smiled, surprised at his willingness to help me out with schoolwork. "Really?"
"Sure," He shrugged, letting a slight smirk play on his lips. "Besides, I've been wanting to see your new place for awhile."
"Well you're not missing much," I laughed, shaking my head at the thought of the very bare apartment. "It looks like an asylum right now."
"I'll see if I can get that dresser over tonight after our shift," He offered, meeting my eyes and looking over the still healing injuries on my face. "That ok?"
"Yeah – that'd be nice," I let a grin spread over my face, realizing now that Warren was probably the closest person I had at the moment. I hadn't had a lot of friends in my past; most were just drinking buddies or people with trap houses in the neighborhood that were used as a bed for a night – and nearly all of them hadn't bothered to keep in touch once I had lost contact. Warren, on the other hand, was someone who obviously understood where I came from and genuinely cared for me. He wanted my safety and was concerned with my happiness and comfort levels, and was visibly aware of my discomforts and how to handle them. He was the sole person who I had let myself get close to after all of these years I believed that getting close was the wrong objective. He defied that theory and had disproved my logic that closeness equaled an advantage over the other being.
A large bang caused us both to turn our heads back towards the match going on in the arena, and we watched as Lash, tied up to a beam on the roof thanks to a super with his wings, and Speed surprisingly out of breath and crouching in the corner, relinquished to their opponents. The heroes had won, and I felt a smile appear on my face because of it. Save the Citizen had never been my favorite class – half of it was watching people be tortured in the arena and the other half was trying to avoid Speed and Lash's wandering eyes as they selected their next prey – but I had to admit, it had it's advantages sitting next to Warren. People were less likely to pick us as opponents because of his stature, and people barely noticed my tiny frame huddled beside him, so we considered ourselves relatively safe from the game every class. Still, it was an unfair game considering the first chosen team got to pick their opponents and could select weaker teams to trump them each time. You played until you lost, so until the team picked a pair of opponents worthy to give them a chance at losing, we were pretty much watching the same team kick ass for the entire gym class. Fortunately however, Speed and Lash liked a challenge, and this time they had been beaten.
Warren and I followed behind the sea of people to the change rooms, meeting on the other side after we had reverted back into our regular clothing and making our way to the bus. It was nice being close with him; I felt safe and wanted, particularly because he let in so little people that I felt extremely special being the one that he wanted near. I could feel myself growing more and more attached as the days went by – it was funny how all of this had started simply by co-habitating our lunch table the first day of school but in all reality, I hadn't expected him to affect my life so much in such a short time span. Despite his outwards stature, Warren seemed like a good man with an honest heart, and I found myself very deeply attracted to him not only because of his physical appearance but because of his tendencies. He was protective, and whilst anti-social, very greater-good-orientated and knew right from wrong. I believed the side responsible for dragging me out of the mess that had been my life was the hero side that he had contracted from his mother, which rendered him even more desirable and only made my thoughts about him increase in positivity. Although everyone believed him to be exactly like his dad, Warren was far from it, and had more of his mother inside of him than Baron at all.
We worked our shift at the Paper Lantern in silence as well, our only contact being smiling subtly to each other as we passed by on our way to the kitchens or occasionally bumped hips and shoulders as we waited our tables. I liked the contact that I made with him as well; it proved that there didn't always need to be words shared for a connection to be made between two people. The speed of our getting to know each other left me at ease and allowed breathing room, which helped with the looming cloud of anxiety caused by Layla and her friends each day at the table. It wasn't dislike that I had for them, merely a certain discomfort that was caused by their almost too sociable ways. Magenta had a tendency to bring up sensitive topics, whilst Zack – the boy almost always donned in yellow – was incredibly loud and liked to rap. Ethan, on the other hand, couldn't stop spewing brainiac nonsense, and Layla was just too plain talkative about everyone and everything in general. It was nerve wracking and horribly friendly, as awful as I realized that sounded. Despite all of that, I was feeling myself grow a tiny bit more used to their behavior each lunch, and if I knew myself at all, I realized that that would mean that sooner rather than later I would begin to grow comfortable with them too.
"I'll be over in a bit with the furniture," Warren gave me a wave as he set off towards his home and I simply made my way over to the back door of my building. I responded with a smile and a wave of my own, happy that I would see him again so soon.
I spent the half an hour he took to get back to my apartment making pasta and listening to the radio; the silence had gotten better and had stopped ringing in my ears, finally granting me the ability to sleep without some random channel blaring in my ear. My heart practically leapt out of my chest each morning when I rose abruptly to the sound of a random radio channel, so it was nice to finally wake to the simple sound of my cheap alarm clock. The thing barely worked itself half of the time, but it served it's purpose of getting me back into the schedule of waking up at seven thirty to catch the bus.
There was an abrupt knock at the door signaling Warren's return, causing me to break out of my thoughts and rush to turn off the stove. The door was opened to reveal one Warren Peace, who didn't look like he was having any trouble at all carrying the heavy dresser. It was nice and big, promising to fit all of my clothing that I had recently been tossing all over the floor into it. I greeted him somewhat shyly and then ushered him in, pointing him towards the only private room beside the bathroom and instructing him to place the new piece of furniture against the wall opposite the window. I felt a slight stir in my abdomen as I watched his muscles work to place it securely against the wall, and willed myself to not get caught up in a daze before he noticed. He handed me my duffel and took a seat on the mattress, watching me as I began to unpack my clothing and simply grunting when I thanked him for bringing it all the way here.
"Did it fit in your car?" I asked as I placed my sweaters and pants down in the bottom drawer. Since I had been so messy in my past, I willed myself to care about my cleanliness in the future.
"Barely," Warren chuckled, eyeing the posters in my room that he hadn't seen before. "Grateful Dead, huh?"
"Yeah," I smiled at the poster next to Led Zeppelin's Mothership. I enjoyed classic rock, and was very happy that I had found someone who enjoyed it just as much. It was too easy to judge people on their selected genre of music nowadays – I didn't understand why everyone shoved their music taste's down each others throats when it was easy enough to just accept someone else's taste as different. "I've always liked their stuff."
"And Alice Cooper apparently," Warren chuckled slightly, gazing at the two different Alice Cooper posters side by side on my walls. "He's...unique."
"What," I faked a gasp. "You don't like Alice Cooper?!"
"He's a bit too strange for me," Warren admitted, showing off his smile again as his eyes shifted to the other posters. "Iggy Pop is alright – I can agree with that."
He nodded around the rest of the room, looking at the artwork of AC/DC, Iron Maiden, Judas Priest, Radiohead, The Pixies, The Rolling Stones and Rush. He seemed to approve of all of them, until he laid eyes on the one right above my two stacked mattresses that made my pathetic excuse for a bed. I had yet to get a pillow and sheets, which made this all much more embarrassing, but I was planning on doing a major shopping spree with the money I had earned sooner rather than later. Funnily enough however, Warren was less concerned at the fact that I was at risk of having neck cramps at night and instead chose to comment on the Green Day poster sitting above my makeshift bed.
"Green Day?" Warren paused at the last poster on my wall. "One of your tattoos was from Green Day, wasn't it?"
"Yes," I nodded, packing away the last of my shirts and grateful that he had been turned whilst I was placing my underwear away. "It's St. Jimmy's cross."
I didn't explain any further on the topic, partially because he didn't ask and partially because I felt that if he truly was interested in it, he could Google it himself and learn more about it. Ever since Mike had lived with us and began to bash my interests down to pulp, I always felt that the people around me truly weren't interested in what I had to say or my hobbies. Therefore, my explanation of things was always cut short because I was used to the idea that no one really wanted to hear any more than a couple words, and that my perspective wasn't always worth it. Warren had slightly helped in this regard, but it was still difficult to communicate sometimes. My insecurities were still holding me back from doing a lot of things, but gradually I was regaining my confidence back.
"I made pasta," I led Warren back into the main room where I placed my unused duffel bag in the hall closet. "I hope it's not too repulsive."
"I'm sure it's fine," Warren assured, laughing and showing off his smile again. I held myself back from staring each time he showed off his grin – both he and his father held a remarkable facial structure – and although his father had been a horrible person, I was glad that Warren had retained his good looks.
"Oh," I looked around as I realized that we would have to sit on the floor. "By the way, I don't have anywhere to sit."
"Bed?" He offered, eyeing me strangely. I wasn't certain, but I was sure that I saw a glimpse of something in his eyes as soon as the word came out of his mouth. I ignored it, nodding instead and dishing the pasta out to the cheap plastic plates I had picked up from the dollar store. I handed a plate to him, also giving him an equally cheap plastic fork and did the same process for myself. We both grabbed our books and headed to the bedroom, beginning to eat in silence.
"You want an amp?" Warren asked in between a bite, gazing at the stack of CD's that sat in one corner of the room.
"For real?" I was almost ecstatic. Whilst there were building rules about the level of noise, I was sure that I would be able to get away with a couple of decibels before all of the adults in the building came home from work some afternoons. I was dying to find a way to listen to my music recently – my CD player had been broken for awhile and I hadn't exactly prioritized music over reading (speaking of which, the massive pile of books in another corner of my room needed a home soon, so my next purchase would most likely involve a shelf of some sort) so my CD's had gone untouched until now. An amplifier would truly be a blessing.
"Yeah," He shrugged, picking up more pasta with his fork. "I've got a spare one."
"Thank you," I briefly wondered how the hell I was ever going to repay Warren and his mother. They had already done such a ridiculous amount for me in terms of gestures and I knew that nothing I ever did could amount to how they had helped. Yet, somewhere deep inside, I believed that Cyclone knew this, and wasn't expecting a gesture in return. The thought comforted me, and I let a light smile touch my eyes.
After we had finished our meals, Warren was quick to pick up the pace about what I was struggling with in terms of Mad Science, and I was quick to point out that I had barely understood anything so far. After an hour or two of basically reiterating everything that Medulla had tried to teach me so far, Warren understood that I was a good auditory learner if the process was explained to me correctly. The way Medulla ran his classes was too harsh and fast, but when Warren explained everything it was slow and well paced, pausing when I had questions and explaining the answers to those as well. It took until the sun went down, but by the end of it I had a much better grip on how the things in the class connected. Our books and papers, where I had been taking notes on our current upcoming subject about shock rays, lay scattered all over the bed as I finished up my final points on what Warren was saying. He had been reading out of the textbook and pausing at the end of every two lines, rephrasing what he had just said so that I could understand better and explaining it to be in a different fashion if I still couldn't get it after the second time around. He really was a patient tutor, and it was showing in my understanding of the course.
"You're a better teacher than Medulla," I snorted, shoving hair out of my face with a huff and growing even more frustrated with my Mad Science teacher. It was the staff's job – just like Principle Powers had mentioned – to make our 'journey' at Sky High as comfortable and easy as possible. As far as I was concerned, Medulla and Boomer were more concerned with making our journey as difficult as possible. They might have called it a challenge, but to everyone else it was just plain torture.
"Oh yeah?" Warren smiled again, causing me to grin at the sight of it. It was wonderful to see him smile – I had barely seen him smile the first month that I had been around him, and it dawned on my now just how happy I got when I saw him happy. "Think of me as a T.A. It'd be horrible."
I laughed at the thought, thinking of how ridiculous it would be if Warren assumed that position instead of the pink and 'lovable' Gwen Grayson, the school's popular techno path that always held the hand of Will when there was any free time. He would most likely scare any freshmen off before they could answer any questions, knowing him. I could just see it now – his tall intimidating figure slouched into the back desk of the room, only raising his eyes when the name of a freshman was called to sit beside him and glaring at them until they practically dissolved on the spot. It would be a terrifying scene indeed. As our laughter subsided, Warren pulled out his phone to check the time and conceded that it was time for him to head home. His mother had flown out to China on an emergency call, which meant that he would have to watch the house for the night and – as he pointed out with a very serious look on his face – feed the fish. I nearly let out a chortle of laughter, but upon realizing that he was one hundred percent serious about the aquatic pet, I let out a smile instead. It was quite comical; big lumbersome Warren owning a tiny little fish that he was slave to feeding every night, especially in the one habitat that Warren felt most uncomfortable with.
I packed away the pasta whilst he pulled on his coat – muscles disappearing underneath the tough leather once again – and grabbed his bag filled with textbooks.
"I'll see you tomorrow Elle," He nodded, warm eyes staring at me from a little distance away.
"Thank you for everything," I smiled softly, pushing some hair out of my face again. "It helped a lot."
"Oh – and I was gonna say," He paused with his hand on the doorknob, just about to open the door. "...you should come to homecoming."
"I should?" There was a strange kind of lump in my throat as my eyes widened a bit, locking with his.
"Yeah," He breathed, letting a slight smirk show before delivering his motive behind the persuasion. "Come on, I can't be the only mopey one there."
"Goodnight Warren," I laughed, letting him go and getting one last glimpse of his grin. "I'll think about it."
Obviously, as I watched him walk down the small corridor towards the elevator, I couldn't help but wonder if that had been his real motive behind his mention of homecoming. It was clear that Layla wasn't his real date, and because of that, I felt a sense of security and a warm pang of something else in my stomach. I didn't exactly want to confront what the pang was, but it felt frighteningly familiar and came along with the stirring feeling of another emotion. After not being able to feel it for a certain amount of time from any of the people that I was supposed to feel it from, one would have assumed that my instinct to detect it would have disappeared. But the feeling in my gut rang clear, and I knew exactly what I was feeling with no doubt in my head. It was affection.