.-.-.-.-.-.-.
illumielle;"It's not just that she makes him a better person–and she does–but he changes her too. He challenges her, surprises her. He makes her question her life, beliefs. He's either the best thing for her . . . or the worst."
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
2.Novitas:newness, novelty, strangeness.
Entry No. 113
Last night was a disaster. My clothes have gone missing (but I know who the culprit is).
I'd really like to meet whoever controls fate or destiny so I could spit in their faces.
Darcy is tolerable enough. Don't catch my snide opinion of the woman for being ungrateful!
Darcy gave me a change of clean clothes, fed me, and allowed me to sleep in her bed
while she worked downstairs at the club. I don't really know what she does for a place like this.
Something tells me that I don't want to know, either.
Anyway, since today is a Saturday, I have time for myself. I've brushed up on all of the
material for next week's test. I have no need of studying further, since I've basically
learned the material. I'll need to start saving up for new textbooks for classes this coming
spring! The opportunity to save money breeches so many levels of comprehension in my mind, too!
While this place is very frightening, I do think I'll like it here.
So long as I keep an ignorant eye to the ongoings of the night, I'll be able
to keep my warm bed, delicious meals, and potentially a steady-ish flow of money for school.
My scholarship will eventually run out.
Maybe this is my chance?
.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.
The club was a disaster.
Bottles of beer, paper rolled up for the use of whatever illegal activities, and toilet paper were all scattered across the dance floor and bar.
Jane sighed. Although she wasn't technically hired at the club, the girl figured she'd help out for compensation for a place to stay for the previous night.
The club was doused in black, silver, and white. Traditional colors all looked down upon in the crowds she grew up with.
The woman shoved her hands across her chest. Shoving her lips to the side, Jane settled her eyes upon a jukebox. The large machine sat bright in the dark corner.
Gasping, Jane rushed toward it, seeing a few cents abandoned in an ashtray near a table. Plucking the money from the dirty ashtray, Jane shoved the nickel into the machine before selecting a tune.
She settled her hands over the plastic dome protecting the pages of selections. American Pie by Don McLean sat pretty at the top of the list it was already on. Jane chuckled.
The melody spoke to her in such a way most others left her feeling absent or unfazed.
As she punched in the selection, the tune lightly played. Instantly, she turned the volume knob to where she could hear it, but wouldn't disturb individuals just going to bed.
Reflecting inwardly, Jane mused that it was around seven in the morning.
The slow introduction to the song burst through the speakers of the machine. As the lyrics cued the singer to begin, Jane overpowered the vocals of the song. Jane Foster wasn't an accomplished singer by any means, but she knew she wasn't terrible. Her mother had often complimented her as a teenager.
Still, the song brought back the rare fond memories of her freshman year. Presently, the year was 1973. Since '71, this tune had conquered the rest as her favorite.
"A long, long time ago, I can still remember how that music used to make me smile, And I knew if I had my chance, That I could make those people dance, And maybe they'd be happy for a while,"Jane followed as she reached for the broom near the bar.
Before beginning, Jane braided her wild hair in a side plait that appeased none of the current trends. Shrugging, Jane hopped toward the center of the dance floor and rushed her arms forward, collecting a few bottles and other pieces of trash in the quick, careless sweep.
Her hips swayed in such a way that her mother would appoint unladylike. Since she wasn't here, Jane found herself more lenient with how she acted.
Ever since Jane's eighth year, her folks had insisted that she lived a traditional, upper-middle class lifestyle.
She was taught how to play the flute.
Her mother hired a private dance instructor to teach her various styles of dance.
But most ostentatiously, Jane was a horrid tennis player.
During her time at the country club, she never quite grasps the required hand to eye coordination without harming herself or falling.
The song peeked in its infectious tempo, and Jane instantly picked up the pace in her sweeping. In less than thirty seconds, she had the whole dance floor swept and prepped for mopping.
"Now do you believe in rock and roll, Can music save your mortal soul, and can you teach me how to dance real slow?"she sang along, both tired and invigorated by simultaneously dancing and sweeping the floor.
Moving toward the sitting area, Jane moved a few tables out of the way so she could get a few bottles wedged against the wall. Matching the rhythm of the song, Jane continued to sweep up.
Upon the last quarter of the song, she was already nearly done with sweeping.
Rubbing her hands against each other, Jane scanned the area for table cleaner. She hopped behind the bar and began shifting a few bottles around neatly.
"And as the flames climbed high into the night, To light the sacrificial rite, I saw Satan laughing with delight, The day the music died,"Jane continued to sing. Her hands impatiently sought the cleaner with no luck.
Biting her lip, she allowed her hands to fall at her sides, her fingers unnaturally feeling the cold skin of her thigh.
The young woman was unused to being so exposed, but since her grungy clothes were nowhere to be found, Jane would continue to borrow Darcy's wardrobe.
That morning, Jane had studied the mass collection of clothes: all very revealing.
She owned twenty pairs of hot pants varying in patterns and colors.
She owned seven shirts supporting various bands Jane wasn't familiar with.
Darcy also had an extensive collection of dresses sporting exotic patterns of swirls and psychedelic squares.
Among the rest of her closet were twenty more fashionable blouses.
Jane didn't feel remorseful for claiming the longest pair of hot pants the waitress owned. Still, on the conservative student, the short pants fell just below her bum.
She was uncomfortable with the exposure of her legs.
But she was by herself. No one was there to judge her. So she supposed it didn't matter. Not really.
Bother.
She overanalyzed everything.
The student made a note to work on that.
Finally, the cleaner was in her position after she glanced behind the last sink all the way to the back.
The music faded away, so she put in another five cents and selected My Maria by B.W. Stevenson. The song was slow to catch up as opposed to AmericanPie.
The plaid men's lumberjack shirt Jane had on was a bit big and continuously got in her way, so she unbuttoned the lower four buttons and tied the ends together around her hips.
She pulled the sleeves up as she leaned over the tables to clean them up.
After another ten minutes, Jane stopped. She decided that she would prefer a small break. After all, there was no one to refuse her.
"This place isn't all too bad to clean. It just looked intimidating," she commentated as her slightly off vision took in the rest of the club. It was spacious, but not entirely too big.
Jane adjusted her toes in her sneakers. She probably looked a bit ridiculous mixing so many fashions together. Again, she sighed the thought away. She sat down on the steps to the dance floor and leaned back on her elbows, humming a vaguely familiar tune she couldn't name.
The library was closed on the weekends, which meant she couldn't go to the university. Normally, she worked a double shift at the diner on Saturdays. But since she probably was fired from there, she didn't think it was wise to go back just yet.
So what would she do with her time?
"I am unused to seeing this place appear so clean at this early hour on Saturday," someone said from the direction of the stairs.
Startled, Jane shot up from where she sat on the set of five steps, seeing the club owner.
From what she could see, he was topless. As he moved away from the staircase, she saw that he wore only a pair of tight leather pants. As he nonchalantly eased closer toward Jane, she saw that he was quite fit. As scrawny as he appeared last night with the large shirt over his form, she was surprised to see what lied beneath the fabric.
A blush colored her cheeks lightly. A faint wash of color settled over her features as she stared at his methodical approach.
She turned around and reached for the cleaner to deposit it back underneath the sink where she found it. Anything to give her the excuse to turn away in a socially logical way.
"I don't expect you to let me stay here, but I figured I could repay you somehow for allowing me to crash here for the night," was all she mumbled, still turned away from him.
The legs of the barstool directly behind her scratched against the clear floor loudly. She peeked over her shoulder and saw him cradling his head in his hands. "Give me something hard. Anything."
She scoffed, almost offended for one reason or another. "I don't drink."
He lifted his head and aloofly, he raised a curious brow through unreadable features, "How does that prohibit your ability to pour me something into a glass? Are you stupid?"
The young girl drew back her head, clearly offended. He didn't seem to care. He appeared bored as she gathered her wits, "I attend Colombia University! I'm the only woman enrolled. How am I stupid?"
He claimed her hand and moved it toward a four-inch high glass above her head. And then he guided her hand to set the glass down. Oddly, his fingers lingered over hers for another inappropriate moment before he coldly uttered, "Step one."
Glancing at the bottles of liquor, he shoved his hard eyes over Jane's, "Step two: pick one fucking bottle and pour it in this damned glass."
Grabbing a towel and wiping her hands in it, Jane pointedly took her time in trying to wash his touch away. Eventually, she fixed her features to a comfortable smug expression.
Her hands first clutched a bottle of tequila and she slowly turned, slamming the glass bottle onto the marble bar. The sound echoed through the vacant space.
She leaned in, the lid of the bottle nearly brushing her cheek. His eyes followed her in the movement, clearly unfazed by their proximity. Slowly, she pronounced each syllable devastating emphasis, "Pour it yourself."
She challenged him by raising and lowering her flat brow.
His mouth broke through the permanent frown over his face into a stupid and sickening grin, "You're trying to get me to notice you, yes?"
Jane straightened and laughed, "You're the one that invaded my privacy, so I have no reason to be nice to you."
"Were I you, I would heed a sense of caution. You do not wish to cross me. The plethora of contacts I have would rectify your smugness in a flash."
"I'm not crossing you. I'm simply standing up for myself. Others may 'worship' you, but I will certainly do no such thing. I don't believe in any gods. It restricts the mind in the field of science," Jane told him in a silly string of jumbled sentences.
While she was unnerved by the subtle threat, Jane wouldn't actively show her unease: especially in front of him.
"What is your name again? Ah, Jane Foster. You've ensnared my attention others would attest to being a horrendous deed," he uttered in a paced, calm manner. Jane held his empty stare quite easily. She wouldn't allow herself to be intimidated by the likes of men like him.
Barely, his eyes moved to either side, never leaving her gaze, either. He appeared to be studying her. "What do you believe in, then, if no gods take their place in your beliefs?"
Jane smiled. The answer came easy, "Science. Facts. Knowledge. Proof. Evidence. There are many things I believe in, but I don't think you'd understand."
"You believe the whole world to be organized in black and white? So many things cannot fit in your logic, Jane. You must know that," he told her calmly.
Jane confidently laughed. She leaned on her elbows against the low counter of the bar. "There are exceptions to everything. Science is simply a pursuit of finding all pieces of knowledge and occurrences reasonable understanding."
"You should know well that not even an entire race can find understanding to all things," he mused arrogantly.
Her flat brows moved together in a fluid motion, "Stop telling me what I should and should not know."
He mimicked her expression in an annoying display of mockery, "Why should I do that?"
She bit her lower lip and narrowed her average-sized brown eyes, "You're nothing to me. Not my father, nor my professors. Your opinion truly means nothing. Therefore, you don't have the right to tell me how I think. There is an ever-growing line for men who believe themselves to be above me."
He constructed his face to a distant state of dullness. "As your employer, I do hope you will amend that logic."
That caught her attention. She straightened and moved her head to the left alertly, but her eyes remained glued in his, "My employer? As of last night, you wanted me gone."
"Yes, but you've proven to satisfy my demands for brief, but meaningful conversation. Therefore, I have decided to hire you. There are only two apartments available. I'll gift you with the larger of the two: conveniently located adjacent to my own private quarters on the sixteenth floor."
Jane shook her head, "I'd prefer the one on the nineteenth floor next to Darcy's."
He smirked sadistically, "This is not up for discussion, Foster. Either you accept, or you gather your belongings and leave without compensation for your work this morning."
"I'd rather leave."
Loki smirked sadistically, "I'd rather you didn't. I think you'll prove most entertaining."
Jane moved back, caught off-guard. "I refuse to sleep with you if that's what you're thinking. I won't be partaking in anything illegal or disgusting."
"Although I am flattered that you would suggest such an . . . atrocious thought, no. I have other plans for you. Plans you'll find most rewarding."
Moving her head for emphasis, Jane rolled her eyes, "Are you going to tell me what those plans entail?"
He stood up quickly. "I'm Loki by the way. I recalled I never properly introduced myself."
Jane sighed, "I'll take that as a no. Just letting you know, school is my top priority. If working here becomes too strenuous or gets in my way of studying, I won't hesitate to quit."
"Dually noted," he said as he began heading toward the stairs.
Jane idly tapped her fingers against the hard surface of the bar. Glancing at where he sat, she realized he never poured himself a drink. She hesitantly studied his fleeting profile from behind.
She didn't know what possessed her to ask, "What would you like me to do?"
He casually waved his hand over his head and dictated, "I'll leave you to your own authority. It seems that you're more entertaining to me when you're berating yourself for not being productive."
Jane rushed out from the bar and ran to the stairs, clinging to the rail there. He had already reached the top of the stairs, "Excuse me? Why not put me to good use? I hate not being productive!"
He arrogantly peered over his pale, bare shoulder through his frizzy black hair, "Precisely."
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
Jane shrugged the backpack against the strained muscle underneath the layers of fabric. Her lungs felt stiff from the sting of the cold, frosty, and dry air she inhaled.
The walk had been a long one, but she finally made it to campus.
The student stood at the entrance of the university in awe. Two years after attending the institution, Jane found herself staring at the splendor that was this university.
Faintly, she smiled.
Today was the day before Thanksgiving.
After her conversation earlier that month between her father and her, Jane felt it was best to save her money this year and skip out on the rest of the holiday season.
She missed New Mexico, though.
The heat, the dry wind, and the desert were all familiar to her: more than the piling snow falling overhead.
Eventually, she glanced at the watch attached to her wrist. The metal was gold, but the artifact had lost its shine long ago.
She was ten minutes early.
That would mean she'd be standing in the cold—inevitably.
She rubbed her hands together and moved them to her mouth, breathing out slightly warm carbon dioxide. The campus was rich with makeshift places to sit, so Jane found a bench underneath a large tree, thinking it would allow her to get out from the snow impaling her like feathers against her face.
The angle the bench was structured at allowed her to monitor the entrance with ease.
Her feet swung loosely underneath the wooden bench, kicking the piled snow aimlessly.
She bit her lip. Her anticipation for this day had dwelled since the professor invited her. A week and a half ago, Professor Erik Selvig approached her after class and personally extended the invitation to meet him here at the campus and move to a local restaurant in order to celebrate.
She shook her head; Jane needed to be alert.
From a short distance, snow crumbled and crunched underneath someone's footsteps.
Jane stood up and rushed over to the entrance, seeing her professor in the flesh. Warmly, she smiled, "Happy Thanksgiving, professor."
His eyes widened briefly before he infectiously laughed, "Oh, my! Good morning, Jane! And a Happy Thanksgiving to you, too."
Jane tightened the grip over her backpack straps and said, "Are you ready to go to the restaurant?"
"Of course," he politely spoke.
He led them around the corner out of the courtyard of the institution. For a few minutes, they walked the five blocks across town to their desired restaurant discussing course material about electromagnetism.
"I know that the electromagnetic force is the one responsible for practically all the phenomena one encounters in daily life above the nuclear scale, with the exception of gravity," Jane proudly mentioned after hearing the interesting theories about the subject he'd acquired over the years. Anything he said was usually intriguing.
"You're correct! Roughly speaking, all the forces involved in interactions between atoms can be explained by the electromagnetic force acting on the electrically charged atomic nuclei and electrons inside and around the atoms, together with how these particles carry momentum by their movement," Professor Selvig added, pausing a bit as he glanced over at her. "I'm surprised that you're as informed about the subject as you are. The subject is not offered to you for another year."
The small compliment caused her to smile. "I have spent a long time in the library lately."
"Truly, your ability to retain the information is both refreshing and a rarity. Sure, you've only had three classes under my instruction, but you possess exemplary potential already in a field open to only a few."
They approached their destination and Jane opened the door for the older man. He sent her a peculiar expression.
Jane instantly knew what he was thinking. Opening doors was more a masculine social action. Jane saw no signs of annoyance, but admiration. He interpreted her intentions accurately: respect.
He walked through the door and proceeded to announce they would require a table for two to the hostess. After a confirmation, the woman showed them to a table secluded in the back of the busy restaurant.
They took their seat and immediately ordered water. Neither needlessly chatted about the menu while they meandered through it.
Jane put an order in for garden salad with balsamic vinaigrette. She heard him order the sirloin steak at medium.
Finally, he spoke, "So, Miss Foster, I am sure you wondered why I invited you here."
Jane shook her head and shrugged politely, "I would rather not go back home for the week, and I appreciate your invitation."
He briefly nodded, saying, "Yes. But I had more advantageous intentions than substituting for your family." He watched her gather her full attention as he continued, "The years you have been my pupil have been the best I can remember in my entire line of instructing. You're remarkable and far beyond your years.
"People assume you're only here because I put in a good word. I did; however, your ability to outshine your male peers across the extensive list of advanced classes in your major is commendable. Everything you have and everywhere you will go is based off of your merit, hard-work, and intelligence alone."
Under his flattering words, she squirmed in her chair. "Thank you for saying that, sir."
"Which is why I'd like to hire you upon your graduation. I am up for tenure, and will be required to actively research in the field. I am allowed up to ten students for hire, but I require only one: you."
Jane choked awkwardly on her water, setting it down in a hasty motion, "Me?"
"You," he confirmed. He joined his hands together and rested on his elbows on the table. "It is my full intention to have you inherit my research when I retire. I have no family to speak of, nor do I have any other serious candidates. Your determination sets you apart from everyone else in your field of study, Jane. Please tell me you'll accept."
The young student gasped while she laughed. Tears blissfully stung her eyes as she nodded like an idiot. After realizing that she wasn't actually speaking, Jane uttered, "Of course I will!"
Together, they ate in a happy veil of peace while they ate their meals. For the first time in forever, Jane felt something aligned to kinship: a fondness to someone else in a familial way.
This man was more to her than a mentor: a friend, a fatherly figure, a family. He took her under his wing since she arrived at Colombia, and she respected him and admired him more than any man in her life.
For the first time in a while, she felt truly happy.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
"You've been busy," Darcy spectated from her bed as Jane walked into the woman's apartment.
Jane smiled, "I have."
The other woman chuckled, sitting up eagerly, "Mind telling me about it?"
Jane closed the door and leaned on it, glancing up at the light in the center of the small apartment. "Things at university have been going well. And I feel that my life is finally coming along: especially since I'm no longer technically homeless."
Darcy snapped loudly, "That's right! We have to talk about your living arrangements, Jane."
The twenty-year old leaned away from the door, "Why?"
The ebony-haired woman smiled playfully, "You have your own apartment to go settle into. You've had it for over two weeks now. Why are you still here?"
Jane's head drew back, "Am I that much of a bother?"
Darcy shook her head ruefully, "It's just that, well, some of us have needs, too."
"Like? It's fine if you'd like to me leave your apartment. It's yours after all, but I'd like to know why."
"I met someone, and I think it'll, like, become really intense," Darcy revealed scandalously.
The revelation caused the student to chuckle, "You mean you want to . . . as many people say, get laid?"
Darcy's hands flew above her head, "Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!"
There was a sudden dark, hollow feeling sinking in Jane's belly. Tilting her head to the side, she looked away from Darcy, "That means I'll have to move into a big apartment next to him."
Darcy got up and reached for her hand, "Hey, he's not that bad. Get to know him a bit, kay? Like, you'll totally see. Besides, he's never there. He has an office on the third floor that has its own suite, too. The sixteenth floor has two apartments, so you'll have the privacy you need in order to study."
Jane shrugged away the uneasy queasiness in her bones. "Right."
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):
***Electromagnetism was not my material. Thank you, Wikipedia!
Two long chapters in under a day! I seriously need to stop ;p REVIEW? It helps me know people read! Please and thank you!