And I return! IDK why I always end up updating at 2 AM my time. Relieving the cliffie! but this is an emotionally charged chapter. Like, for real, I almost cried like a thousand times writing it. If that hasn't scared you off, enjoy! And a warning, some mild language goes with all the emotion.
"HICCUP!" Lindsay's shooting down the hallway towards him, her hazel eyes wide with panic. She falls over Snoutlout, swears at him in French as he flirts, and limps/sprints to where Hiccup stands next the gym door. "Hiccup, I'm so screwed!"
"Hey to you too."
She slaps him with her lunchbox. "This is serious!"
"What happened?"
She checks over her shoulder before wailing, "Astrid and I have a project together. As in, a get-together-outside-of-school project. She's going to smear me across my bedroom walls."
Hiccup wants to tell her she's overreacting, except…well, she's not. Astrid and Lindsay have become full-fledged enemies. They oppose each other directly in gym; Lindsay actually tries to beat her and she's actually won at soccer, badminton, and field hockey. They glare as the other passes in the hall. They have some pretty good burns exchanged. Lindsay actually has told him when she gets bored in Algebra, she tries to come up with original comebacks for Astrid. There hasn't been a direct fight between them yet; he hopes it won't come to that. Hiccup thinks it's a bit weird that Astrid is this angry over one sarcastic comment and an amazing volleyball shot, but Astrid is a grudge holder; she still doesn't speak to the kid who pushed her off the swings in second grade. That's it. Right?
Lindsay's right; there will be something besides paint on her wall after this.
She groans. "You can't even think of anything to say. God, I'm dead! D-E-A-D!"
It's bad when she starts spelling.
"Calm down," he tells her, but that only makes her more panicked. "I'm so screwed, I am so screwed!" she moans. "I'll leave you something in my will."
Hiccup really wants to say something supportive and encouraging, but he can only just pat her shoulder. She glares. "You're so helpful."
"It'll be okay?" he offers. She rolls her eyes, "Thank you."
"What's this project on?" He asks. Vandy comes out of his office and stares pointedly. "Hold on, tell you after I change," she says, already halfway into the girl's locker room.
She comes back in under two minutes; she's wearing two different socks and she hasn't bothered to put her hair up. "Okay," she starts, removing the elastic form her wrist and flipping her brown hair into a ponytail. "It's for theatre."
Hiccup makes an involuntary smug noise. Just yesterday they were arguing over why each of their respective electives is better; one reason theatre isn't perfect, Lindsay had said darkly, was Astrid being there. "Still, it's a big class, so I don't have to deal with her much." So much for that.
"Shut up," she growls. "I had an appointment with…um, an appointment, last class when everyone picked partners. The project is to write an 'emotionally charged' dialogue scene for two characters, under five minutes. We won't have time to do it in class, so…" She sighs. "Astrid wasn't there either, apparently. So we're together. I have to write a dialogue scene with my worst enemy."
"What was your appointment?" Hiccup asks.
"Oh, after all that that's what you ask? None of your business."
"What was it?" he persists.
"Hiccup, please," she begs. "Let's just say…feminine stuff."
Hiccup turns the approximate color of a plum. "That's why when I tell you 'an appointment' you take it and don't ask questions," she says reproachfully.
"Duly noted," he groans. "Just for the record…"
"What?"
"It was nice being friends with you."
She isn't sure whether to hug him so hard she runs the risk of cracking his ribs, or tackle him and black his eye.
Lindsay feels like she's just strapped a ticking bomb to her chest as she approaches Astrid at her locker. "Um," she says. About a thousand insults have just popped into her head, and she can't say any of them if she wants to live because there are no witnesses around. "About that project."
Astrid slams her locker door, and Lindsay jumps about a foot in the air. "There is no way I'm wasting my time on a theatre project with…you." You just made me feel really great about myself, Astrid. Thanks. She pushes Lindsay into the lockers with one hand. Okay, that will bruise later. "You do it, if you're so concerned," she snarls.
"Maybe I will," Lindsay says frostily. "I'm somewhat opposed to failing. Expect better of myself, maybe?" Ooh, that's good. Not that Astrid's stupid. She is smart. Just, well, not as smart as Lindsay. And Lindsay bets the fact that she's got a higher GPA is something that digs under Astrid's perfect skin.
Astrid hisses like a cobra, poised to strike.
"Go ahead," Lindsay whispers. "I'm not afraid of you."
Astrid hurls her fist into the metal next to Lindsay's head, growls, and stalks away.
Whoa, she was completely bluffing.
But not about being unafraid. Astrid is not all-powerful. Lindsay's starting to realize that, and God, it feels good.
Lindsay actually did write the stupid skit. She even made discreet flashcards for Astrid. Except, well, the skit was not performed how she wrote it. The skit was plain not performed. She's not even sure you can call it her work, because she freaking adlibbed it all. They did. They weren't acting; it was their words ricocheting out of their mouths, their emotions rising like a tidal wave, their thoughts crashing into each other...
Hiccup walks her to class. They talk about Toothless, in delightful whispers; nothing like a secret between friends. Especially breathing, purring one. They've changed their routine, going straight to Hiccup's and chilling with Toothless, who seems thrilled to have an hour and a half of his two favorite people stroking him and scratching his jaw and belly and talking to him. Or cooing, in Lindsay's case. ("What? He's cute! In a super fierce, wild way, of course.")
Astrid glides past them like they don't exist, knocking Hiccup into a wall. Lindsay scowls. "Hey, it's fine," Hiccup says. Such a lie, and she knows it. "It's not," she answers. "How can you…? Just let her…?"
Astrid doesn't bother to lower her voice as she giggles to her friends, "Looks like Nerd Love's having their first fight." Lindsay doesn't think; her head's roaring. She lunges at Astrid like she's not 110 pounds and a physical failure that's never fought anyone before; she struggles and pants before she realizes that Hiccup's using all his strength to restrain her. "Get off!" she snarls at him. "Dammit, will just let me go?"
"Not until you calm down!" he yells.
She rapid-fire calls him a creative combination of different French swears before she stops struggling. "Okay," she says breathlessly. "You're right. If I get suspended, who's going to look after you?"
Hiccup smiles thinly—he recognizes the truth in those offhand words— a warning in his eyes, and darts to Engineering down the hall. He better hurry, or he'll get his first tardy in his school career.
Lindsay walks slowly into the auditorium. Now that Hiccup's not here to restrain her, it's getter harder to remember why it's a bad idea to charge Astrid and make her pretty little nose bleed. No! Focus! Project due! How would Astrid look with a black eye? She wonders. NO! GAHH!
Of course, they're the first pair to get up and perform their skit.
Lindsay shoves the notecards into Astrid's hand going up the steps to the stage. They line up on the stage, and Lindsay opens her mouth fully intending to say her first line.
Then she notices the lingering sneer on Astrid's face, and the only way she can describe her next action is going berserk. She doesn't lunge; she doesn't attack. At least not with her fists. But she does start…something. "You." The word is venomous. Astrid checks her notecard and sees it's not scripted. "You," Lindsay repeats. "You're poison."
"Excuse me?" Astrid's voice rises.
"Poison," Lindsay repeats, stepping closer. "You're poisoning him." Another step. "My best friend." She's barely two feet from Astrid now. "My best friend!" She screeches.
Astrid glares. "Back off. You don't want to mess with me."
"Like you mess with him?" Her voice is calm but its volume is skyrocketing. "You don't see him. Not like I do. You see a target. Your target."
"I do not target him."
"Oh, you don't? You don't?"
Astrid Hofferson is never afraid, no. But the crazed, passionate resentment in this girl's eyes is unnerving. "No, I don't," she returns coldly. "He just gets in my way."
"He loves you," Lindsay whispers.
Astrid knows that. She doesn't even say it; that much is obvious.
"He used to be yours."
"Used to?" She laughs. He is. He always has been.
"He's mine too. You're always with us. He can't forget you. But he can't forget me either." She grimly smiles. "We're sharing now."
"He was mine first!" Astrid growls possessively, and that's what really sets her off.
"Mine, mine, mine! He's not your puppet! You can't just string him along for fun! Don't you see, can't you get that he's a person, he has feelings? Feelings for you that you use to your advantage, that you use as a weapon against him? God, you disgust me!" Lindsay screams it, and she realizes while she's always disliked Astrid because every guy is in love with her and every girl wants to be her, she hates Astrid because of what she does to Hiccup, again and again and again.
"I disgust you?" Oh, now she's said too much.
Hiccup, Toothless might be your only friend again, because I'm about to die.
But Astrid doesn't swing. She does something much more unexpected.
She starts to weep.
Lindsay is perplexed. Astonished. Awkward. Puzzled. A tiny bit ashamed. She's never made anyone cry before.
Astrid's made her cry before. When she stole the guy Lindsay was crushing on ninth grade. They were talking, maybe even getting close to a first date, and wham! In comes Astrid, and Matt Hybrod never spoke to her again. She cried at the dance they were thinking about going to together when she saw him kissing Astrid in the corner, and she cried the next day when she saw his relationship status on Facebook.
She made her cry when she called her a freak in October when she accidently ran into her outside biology. She made her cry, hot, miserable, angry tears behind her hair before she pulled herself together for that day's test.
Astrid made her cry the last time she broke Hiccup's heart. "I will never go out with you, you loser," she had sneered, and he crumpled. They skipped out of last period and he cried in her car and she cried with him harder than she ever had in her life because she had promised him one day Astrid would realize he's perfect for her and today made her feel like a liar and she hates liars.
Another reason she cannot stand Astrid Hofferson.
So why does she feel like a horrible person as tears stream down those bronzer-dusted cheeks?
"Hey," Lindsay says with tenderness she never thought she'd be applying to Astrid Hofferson, "It's okay."
"You're right, I am disgusting," Astrid wails.
Lindsay looks helplessly at their theatre class, who are stunned.
"And scene," she says firmly. She can't believe it; she's saving Astrid here. But she can't afford to fail this project, so that's another reason. She's not just being nice. Even if she didn't think of that right away.
"GENIUS!" Mrs. Hemingway projects. "The drama! The passion! The truth! I felt the emotion!"
"Oh, that was the point," Lindsay smiles weakly. "Um, we'll be right back, we just need to go to the bathroom to… take off our stage makeup." She drags Astrid off the stage and out into the hall bathroom. "Pull yourself together," she snaps at her, handing her a tissue from her purse. Astrid dabs the mascara running under her eyes; she only smears it worse.
"I don't get you," she tells Astrid. "Do you like him or not?"
"W-what?"
"Do you like Hiccup or not?" she demands. "You mock him and degrade him, and then you throw volleyballs at my face when I just talk to him. You hate me because I'm his friend."
"Is that all you are?" Astrid's bewildered.
"Yes," Lindsay says, exasperated. "He's all hung up on you. Was that not clear? God, don't ask me why; I don't know why. You're kind of a bitch."
"I am," Astrid admits. "I…I don't know how I feel about Hiccup."
Lindsay raises her eyebrows.
Astrid laughs miserably. "I'm serious. On one hand, he's my scrawny stalker." Lindsay bristles. One more word. "On the other, I can't stop thinking about how much I want to touch his hair."
Lindsay blinks. "His hair."
Astrid nods, half-eager and half-disgusted. "It just looks soft…like feathers, almost…" she sighs. "And I want to count his freckles, and kiss him until I can't breathe…"
Lindsay really wants to laugh, but she keeps her voice and face level and impassive. "And how long has this been going on?"
Astrid thinks. "Since a few months ago. After the volleyball thing…"
Lindsay looks at her incredulously. "When he and I became friends?" She nods. "Really? Jealousy was all you needed?" She does laugh now, but it's a little bitter. "I'm more disgusted with you than ever, Astrid. But if it makes you feel better, the close we have ever got to romantic was when we were like literally holding each other together when you told him he was a loser, and you'd never go out with him? Remember that? We both cried, Astrid. You made him cry." It's so unfair, all of this. And now she's crying. "Jesus!" she groans. She forces herself to look at Astrid, who looks like she has no idea whether to bolt or try to help.
"Astrid," Lindsay says, her voice thick, "If you want him, I'll help you. You just have to decide. Can you give up being the person everyone idolizes, the person who pushes Hiccup down and laughs about it? Can you change into the person who helps him back up?" Lindsay wipes her eyes resolutely. "I'm going back to class." She stands. "You just have to decide," she repeats, and she runs out of the bathroom not back to the auditorium but to where she knows Hiccup is: Mechanical Engineering. She'll beg him to come here for a second and she'll go into a supply closet and let loose. She won't tell him what happened today. She just needs someone to hold her and let her cry.
He does let her cry. She practically soaks his shirt through before he murmurs, "Hey, what happened?"
Just the concern in his voice gets her going again. She whimpers a "Nothing," but he's not convinced. "Yeah, I like to sob for no reason too," he says conversationally. She laughs wetly and swats his arm half-heartedly.
"Some guy do this?" He demands. "Cause I'll, um, kick his ass!"
"No, it's not a guy," Lindsay tells him. "At least not directly."
"That made so much sense," he says, his eyebrows raised.
She mutters, "Shut up," and hastily wipes her eyes. He catches her wrist. "Hey, you're not hurt, right?"
"No, Astrid didn't beat little unsuspecting me up."
"That's not what I was asking."
"I'm not gonna say that I'm not," she said finally. "But I'm not gonna say I am."
His emerald eyes flash and she knows while he might not know what's happened in the past hour, he can see how she's feeling, can understand it.
He hugs her, and she leans her head on his bony shoulder. He rests his forehead on the top of her head; his hair flops down and brushes against her face. It's soft, feathery, ticklish. Lindsay thinks she should tell Astrid, launch her into the throes of euphoria or something. Oh, but then Astrid will pelt her with volleyballs for actually hugging her friend. Lindsay starts laughing at the irony, the sheer ridiculousness.
"Are you—are you P-PMSing or something?" Hiccup sputters, and she laughs harder. "Come on; let's get you back to class." He puts an arm around her and she looks up at him him. "Thanks," she says it quietly, hoarsely. "Hiccup, thanks."
"You're welcome, crazy girl," he smiles, and she does too. "I'm not crazy. You're crazy." She pokes his stomach.
"Yeah, okay," he snorts, thanking God she's back to normal. He's terrible with crying girls.
He drops her off at the auditorium…again. She tells him she'll see him in Biology. Surprisingly, Mrs. Hemingway doesn't comment how long it took her to "take off her stage makeup" or ask where's she's been. Lindsay sits as quietly as possible in one of the plush audience seats. Astrid gets up from her spot down the row and sits next to her. "I covered for you. Said you felt sick."
Lindsay nods. "Thanks." She turns back to where two guys who are not actors in the least are nervously performing.
Astrid sucks in a breath. "I want your help," she blurts out.
Lindsay eyes her warily. She thinks about years of hating Astrid Hofferson. She thinks about kind, wonderful, lonely Hiccup who loves this girl so much.
"Okay," she says. "We have a deal."
Bet you weren't expecting a n Astrid/Lindsay alliance. How is THAT gonna go? Hmm, review and you'll find out quicker.
To my faithful readers:
disneyisbeautiful: Gotta say, I'm proud of how Toothless came in. That was HARD to do! I wrote the sponge thing laughing my butt off, because I could totally see Hiccup's face. Hope you like this chapter! You further prove your amazingness if you review again!
Voldyne: Yep, I did an evil cliffie. You like how I turned a reward for you guys into a trick to keep you reading? I'm more conniving than I thought! But, hey, I didn't keep you waiting long :) And thanks about Toothless, i found it fitting.
HunterNite: My next chapter to a devoted reviewer!
mks 12 98: I am so sorry about the loss of your pets. And both on 11/11, that's just strange. I hope Chapters 2, 3, and 4 helped. thank you for continuing support.
And thanks to loozje, who added me to their story alerts.
So this next chapter may take me a while, becasue I really NEED to do How To Decide You're Ready To Get Married's 4th Chapter. Again, though, the more you review the faster I work!
Love, Wordwielder