Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock or The Incredibles
Chapter Seven: Adversary
"Hi." Francis leaned against the locker next to Frieda's.
She smiled at him and went back to rummaging in her locker. "Hi."
"My name is Francis, I just transferred here." Francis continued.
Frieda shut her locker, clutching her textbooks to her chest. "I'm Frieda." They shook hands.
Francis adjusted his backpack, shuffling his feet nervously. "Um, so. I was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime?"
Frieda looked at Francis and then giggled. "You're kidding, right?"
Francis' frown answered her question. Frieda abruptly stopped laughing. "Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh at you."
"So, you don't want to go out?" Francis asked.
Frieda sighed. "I hardly know you. Why are you even asking?"
Francis shrugged. "Because I wanted to."
"I'm sorry, but I don't feel comfortable going out with a complete stranger." Frieda apologized. "Friends?"
Francis shook his head. "I don't give up that easy."
Frieda smiled. "My answer is no until further notice." She turned to walk away.
"We'll see." Francis smiled at her back.
Turns out Francis had Spanish with Frieda. He hadn't noticed her yesterday because he had been desperately trying to keep a low profile. Today, Francis slid into the seat next to her, smiling as charmingly as he could. Frieda giggled and got her notebook out, turning her attention to the teacher.
For the firs time in his life, Francis found himself sitting at the front of the class. He couldn't hide behind the other students. Francis hurried to get his own books out. He wanted to make a good impression on Frieda. So far, Spanish was his favorite subject.
During a lull in the class when the teacher went next door to get something from another teacher, Francis turned to Frieda.
"Wanna go out?"
Frieda turned pink. She looked to her friend on her other side for help, but she was busy hiding her laughter behind her hand. Frieda looked back at Francis. He just smirked at her.
"Do you think I'm going to say yes?" Frieda asked.
"No."
"Then why are you asking?"
Francis shrugged. "I'm persistent."
Frieda smiled. She couldn't help herself. "The answer is still no."
"Okay." Francis turned back to face the chalkboard, busying himself by catching up on the notes the teacher had left behind.
"That's it?" Frieda asked.
"Is what it?" Francis looked at her.
"That's your best shot?" Frieda was taunting him now. Having fun with him.
Francis smirked to himself. She was interested. "For now."
The teacher re-entered the room with a stack of workbooks under her arm. "Frieda? Talking in class?"
Frieda turned that delicious shade of pink again and stuttered a quick "no." She glared at Francis. He smiled back. This was going to be fun.
To Francis' great delight, Frieda was sitting with Richie and Virgil when he walked into the cafeteria for lunch. He quickly took the seat next to her, not saying anything. Ignoring her.
Frieda looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "Stalking me now?"
"Excuse me?" Francis acted hurt. "You're sitting at my table. Right boys?"
"He did sit with us yesterday." Richie confirmed.
Francis stuck his tongue out at Frieda. "Told ya."
"That'll win you her affection." Virgil quipped.
Frieda looked surprised. She turned to Francis. "Everybody knows you're on this immature quest to get me to go out with you?"
"Yup." Francis was counting the money Helen had given him for lunch, planning out what he was going to eat.
"This doesn't seem ridiculous to anyone else?" Frieda asked.
Richie shrugged. "You could just get it over with and say yes."
Frieda looked from Richie to Francis, who was waggling his eyebrows at her in a lewd manner. "How long are you going to keep this up?"
"Until you say yes." Francis said succinctly.
Frieda stood, taking her lunch with her. There was a determined look in her eye. "We'll just see who gives out first then shall we?"
Francis smirked. "Sounds like a challenge."
"It is. You in?" Frieda held out her hand.
Francis shook it. "You're on."
Later that day, Francis was in the push-up position in the kiddie end of the pool, roughly breathing in and out through his nose. Bob was towering over him with several weights in his hand, counting out the push-ups.
The kiddie end of the pool, as Francis thought of it, had extremely shallow water. When Francis stood, it touched just above his ankles. When he lowered his body during the push-ups, the front of his body was submerged and he had to arch his neck to keep from getting a mouthful of chlorinated pool water. Every thirty push-ups, Bob would place a weight onto Francis' back, making it harder to lower and then raise himself.
The weights were round and flat, weighing about twenty pounds each. There were three stacked on Francis' back.
"118…119…120."
Francis stopped, taking deep breaths, arms shaking. Bob placed another weight onto his back. Francis struggled through push-up number 121 and then his arms gave out. He rolled over onto his side, dislodging the weights.
"Not bad." Bob picked up a clipboard and marked the number onto a chart. "You beat last week's high."
Francis lay on his back, eyes closed. His chest was heaving rapidly as he tried to get his breath back. The water was high enough to submerge his arms and legs; only his face and chest were above the water.
"Let's see if you can't beat 121 next week." Bob said, putting the clipboard away and hauling Francis into a sitting position.
The teenaged pyro leaned against the edge of the pool, running a hand over his face. "When can I start using my powers?" He gasped.
Bob frowned. "Not yet."
Francis looked up at the Super, rivulets of water streaming down his face. "When?"
"I don't know."
Francis slapped the water. "Shit." He ducked the swat that came his way; it was practically second nature now. "I know, no swearing." Francis got to his feet and stepped out of the pool. "It slipped out."
Bob handed him a towel. "It's getting late. You'd better get started on your homework."
"Yeah, okay." Francis slung the towel over his shoulder and left the pool area, stretching his arms as he walked.
Francis spotted Frieda walking towards the school in a flock of girls before the first bell. He tossed his helmet and keys to Violet to lock up, scooped his backpack out of the under seat compartment and ran after the gaggle of girls. He caught up to them at the steps.
"Hey Frieda." Francis smiled, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and running a hand through his hair.
Frieda's friends burst into laughter at the sight of Francis. That had been happening a lot lately. It wasn't mean laughter; they were simply amused by him.
"Wanna go to Homecoming with me?" Francis asked, as usual.
"Nope." Frieda returned his smile. Francis stepped ahead of Frieda to open the doors, bowing slightly as the girls passed him. More giggles erupted. He hurried to catch up with the group.
"Please?"
Frieda shook her head. "No."
"Aw c'mon Frieda." One of the girls, a blonde, said. She smiled coyly at Francis. "Throw the boy a bone."
"Hear that?" Francis took Frieda's bag from her hands, walking alongside the object of his affection. "I'm getting support."
"Still no." Frieda laughed.
"Girl, come to your senses." A brunette walked to the other side of Francis and linked arms with him. "I'd say yes." She whispered conspiratorially to him. Francis smirked. He was enjoying the attention.
Frieda rolled her eyes. "It's about principle at this point." She took her bag back, making a point of avoiding eye contact with Francis.
The girls moved past Francis, some casting sad little looks back at him. Francis stood in the middle of the hallway. "See you in Spanish!" He called at Frieda's retreating back.
She waved over her shoulder.
Francis sighed and turned to his locker. Virgil walked up behind him. "So? How's the courting going?"
"Could be better." Francis shrugged.
"Is this how you get all the girls to say yes?"
"No." Francis opened his locker, unzipping his backpack to get some books out. "I don't usually have a problem getting girls to say yes."
Virgil laughed. "I told you you're not going to get her to go out with you."
Francis turned to Virgil with a frown. "Why not?"
Virgil placed a hand on Francis' shoulder with a knowing grin on his face. "Dude, she's in a lot of my classes. She's smart. She's editor of the school newspaper. She's rich. She's your opposite in almost every way."
Francis knocked Virgil's hand away, slamming his locker shut and turning on the younger teen angrily. "So you're basically calling me dumb and poor? Is that what I'm hearing?"
"Did I stutter?" Virgil shrugged. "Face facts dude. If the roles were reversed, would you go out with you?"
"That doesn't even make sense." Francis muttered in confusion.
"I'm only saying this because as fun as it was seeing you get shot down time after time after time after…"
"Okay, I get it." Francis cut Virgil off.
"It's getting a little sad now." Virgil finished.
Francis considered that. Frieda did dress nice and she was smart, easily the smartest student in their Spanish class. She was always surrounded by people and she was friendly to everyone. She seemed to be involved in everything. But those were the things Francis liked about her. It wasn't just physical attraction. He'd gotten to know her over the last few days and he liked her even more now. But was the feeling mutual?
As far as Francis knew, he was an amusement, something that entertained Frieda and her friends for a little while. Sure the girls joked about accepting his offer, but would they really? The more Francis thought about it the more it seemed they were just messing with him. That made him mad. Maybe Virgil was right. He should just give this up.
Without another word to his fellow Super, Francis turned on his heel and headed for his first class, glowering at anyone who looked at him.
After school in the parking lot, Francis saw Frieda walking alone. He handed his bag blindly to Violet. "Give me a sec okay?"
Violet noticed where Francis was looking and nodded. "Sure."
"Frieda! Wait up!" Francis jogged over to her.
Frieda stopped and smiled at the boy as he skid to a stop next to her.
"Yes?" She knew what was coming.
"You win."
That was not what she was expecting to hear. "What?"
Francis shrugged. "You win. I'm tired of playing this game. I don't like it."
"O-oh." Frieda was startled; she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "So you don't want to go out with me?"
"No, I do." This was hard. Francis didn't know what to say. "But you clearly don't want to go out with me."
"Francis, I don't want to hurt your feelings…"
Francis stopped her. "You said you didn't want to go out with me because we didn't know each other, so I wanna know if you still want to be friends."
"Yes." Frieda said. "I'd like that."
"Okay, then we're friends." Francis said.
"Okay." Frieda smiled. "See you tomorrow?"
Francis nodded. "Yeah."
They parted ways. Francis rubbed the back of his neck. At least they were something now. They were friends. Maybe, sometime in the future, he could ask again and she'd say yes. Francis smiled. That would be a good day.
He trotted back towards Violet and the bike. "Ready?"
"Yup." She held out his helmet for him. Francis took it and was about to climb onto the motorcycle when a very large shadow eclipsed them both.
"Nice ride."
Francis turned around. A large black teenager wearing a do-rag and baggy clothing stood behind Francis with his muscular arms crossed over his broad chest, flanked by other boys in similar attire. A gang. Francis regarded the crew carefully.
One of the reasons Francis had been excited to come to Dakota was the gang culture, but he had seen little evidence of it at Dakota High School. Apparently standing in front of him now was the only gang represented at the school. They didn't look as though they wanted to welcome him. In fact, they looked like they were ready for a throw down.
Francis found himself stepping between the gang and Violet. "Thanks." He said stiffly.
"You new here?" The large one, the leader, asked.
"Yeah. Transferred." It was so easy to fall into his old habits. When talking to the enemy, be simple. Don't offer more information than was required.
"Where from?"
"Metroville." And when greatly outnumbered, don't provoke. Be cooperative.
"Quite a drive." The leader stepped forward, putting a hand on the back of the bike, uncomfortably close to Violet's behind. She quietly slid off the seat, putting the bike between herself and the gang bangers.
Francis smiled to himself. Good girl. He turned his attention back to the crew.
"Yeah. It's a sweet ride." The leader said, mostly to himself. He looked down at Francis and extended his hand. "Wade."
"Francis." He shook Wade's hand, ignoring the snickers from the crew behind them at his name.
"Francis?" The corner of Wade's mouth quirked up. "Whatever man." He ran a finger over the paint. "How's about letting me and my boys take a spin on it?"
Francis smirked. "Yeah, no."
Wade frowned. "What?"
"No fucking way in hell." Francis clarified.
There were some faint 'oohs' from behind them.
Wade chuckled and shoved Francis. "What if I just took it?"
"I'd break your fucking arm." Francis said simply. His gaze hardened, staring challengingly up at Wade.
"You're a mouthy little fucker aren't you?" Wade chuckled again and then shot forward to grab Francis. The pyro ducked under the outstretched hand and jumped aside. One of the crew wrapped an arm around Francis' neck and before he could wriggle loose, Wade sucker-punched him. Francis jerked free and reared back his arm to deliver a retaliatory shot when he remembered rule number two. No fighting. It was enough to make Francis pause mid-swing.
Wade didn't have any such limitations. He caught Francis with a blow to the chin that knocked the smaller teen down. Francis quickly scrambled to his feet and back to the bike. He couldn't fight. Shit. He was going to get his ass kicked.
"Trouble boys?" An authoritarian voice boomed across the parking lot. It was Principal Duncan on his way to his car.
"No sir." Wade said sweetly.
Duncan looked at Francis. "Stone?"
Francis shook his head, still glaring daggers at Wade.
Violet clutched Francis' arm. "Let's go."
Francis didn't' move. Wade smirked at him. Violet tugged again. "C'mon Francis. Please." He looked at her. There was fear in her eyes. Slowly, Francis nodded.
"See ya around Francis." Wade put emphasis on the name, making it an insult. Francis sneered back at him, flipping the larger teen off.
Wade just smirked, grinding his fist into the palm of his hand.
"Francis." Violet nudged him again. Francis slung his leg over the seat and clenched the handlebars until his knuckles turned white, watching Wade and his crew move across the parking lot.
He didn't move again until they were out of sight. Francis grabbed his helmet and jammed it on, flipping the visor down with more force than was necessary before starting the bike.
Francis steered the bike into the garage and lurched to a stop, leaving a black skid mark behind. He turned the ignition off and leapt from the bike. In one swift movement he had torn the helmet off his head and thrown it as hard as he could at the wall. It left a hole in the drywall. Francis was breathing quickly, as if he'd just run a marathon. Violet sat on the bike, watching him with wide eyes.
"Are you okay?" She asked finally.
"No." Francis ran a hand through his hair, tugging lightly at the strands in frustration. "This…this sucks."
Violet walked over to Francis slowly and put a hand on his arm. He was shaking with suppressed rage. "It was very good of you not to fight back." She said quietly.
"Didn't feel good." Francis ground out.
"Still." Violet went inside, leaving Francis alone in the garage. He looked around. He needed something to hit. Francis noticed the hole and shrugged. If the wall was already trashed…why not? He put his fist through the wall, enlarging the hole. Then again. On the third punch Francis felt something crack but as he withdrew his hand, coated in dust and a little blood, he was smiling. It felt good.
Of course, later that night Bob made Francis plaster over the hole he had made. It was worth it.
"Mooooom." Violet flopped onto her parents' bed and grabbed a pillow, smothering her whines.
Helen looked up from the mirror and smiled at her daughter. "What is it?"
Violet mumbled something into the pillow.
"You're going to need to address me, not the pillow." Helen ran a comb through her short auburn hair.
"Homecoming is next week and no one's asked me to go." Violet complained. "It sucks that we had to transfer. Nobody at Dakota even knows I exist, again!" Violet kicked the bed like a toddler having a tantrum. "Now I'm not going to even get to wear that cute dress."
Helen sighed, put the comb down, and sat on the edge of the bed. She ran a hand through Violet's hair in a comforting manner. "Oh, I'm sure someone will ask you."
"No Mom." Violet protested, hugging the pillow to her chest. "Everybody who's going already has a date. Nobody's going to ask the new girl who shows up two weeks before the dance!"
Helen considered the problem. "Well. Why don't you ask a boy?"
Violet gasped in horror. "Mom, I can't do that! That screams desperate!"
"You could go with Virgil." Helen suggested. "As friends."
"Oh Mom, that would be so weird. He's like my brother." Violet buried her face in the pillows again. "Besides, he's going in a singles group with his new friend Richie."
"Oh."
"I'm just going to stay home like a giant loser and watch a movie with Jack-Jack or something." Violet moaned.
"You are not a loser." Helen said firmly. "It's awkward going to a new school, I understand that. There are going to be lots of other dances. Don't get so hung up on this one."
"But Mom." Violet whined again. "I really wanna go."
"Could you join a singles group?" Helen asked.
Violet shook her head despondently. "No, I don't know anyone well enough to ask yet and groups are already formed."
"What's Francis doing that night?" Helen asked.
"I dunno." Violet sniffed. "He asked a girl but she said no, a lot."
"She did?" Helen was surprised.
"It was this whole weird thing where they were seeing if Francis could get her to say yes and it didn't work so he gave up." Violet explained. "Besides, he's not really a dance kind of guy."
Helen nodded. "I suppose not." She rubbed Violet's back. "Don't worry. We'll think of something."
Violet sighed as she looked at the purple dress hanging in her closet. "I am never going to get to wear you." She reached out to touch the dress, lightly running her fingertips over the fabric.
There was a knock at her door. Violet closed her closet. "Yes?"
The door opened and Francis stuck his head into the room. "Can I ask you something?"
Violet shrugged. "Sure?"
Francis opened the door a little wider and stepped into the room, looking over his shoulder as though Bob was going to come barreling down the hall and tackle him for being near his daughter's bedroom.
"So, you're kinda bummed about this dance thing huh?" Francis asked lightly.
"How…who told you that?" Violet asked defensively.
"Nobody." Francis quirked an eyebrow. "Geeze, calm down."
"Oh." Violet sat down on her bed. "Then why do you think I'm upset about Homecoming?"
Francis rubbed the back of his neck. "You made such a big deal out of that dress and you've been moping around so I guess nobody asked you."
"Thanks for rubbing it in." Violet snapped, crossing her arms.
"I didn't mean it like that." Francis sighed. "You're making this hard."
"Making what hard?" Violet asked.
Francis suppressed his grin. Oh, the dirty things he could have said at that moment. He fought the urge. "I'm trying to ask if you want to go to the stupid dance with me."
"You are?" Violet asked, mouth agape in surprise.
"Well, yeah." Francis said sheepishly.
"Why?"
"Well, you wanna go and I wanna go and it would be lame to go alone so…do you want to?"
Violet frowned. "This is a serious offer?"
Francis furrowed his brow in confusion. "Yeah."
"You could ask any girl. I'm sure there are plenty who want to go with you." Violet countered.
Francis shrugged. "Well, the one I wanted to go with said no, and I don't really want to go with anyone else." He looked at Violet.
"Gee, that makes me feel special." Violet quipped.
Francis frowned. "If you don't wanna go just say no."
Violet didn't say anything. Francis threw his hands in the air. "Fine." He turned to leave.
"Wait."
Francis looked over his shoulder.
"I want to go with you." Violet said softly.
"Okay." Francis smiled and left the room.
Violet exhaled and then grinned. She was going to Homecoming! She pulled her pillow to her chest, giggling with glee.
Author's Note:
Nothing much to say. Just wanted to introduce Wade. Next chapter is the dance. Now go watch Glee.
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