Ivy hung up the phone and went to her bedroom to change out of her dark clothes. She grabbed a simple gray spaghetti strapped dress with a flowy skirt that came down to her knees. She put on clunky black boots that were almost military style, but with a three-inch heel, and her black Guess jacket that she wore over everything. She reversed the black streaks so that her hair was plain white again, and decided that she needed a haircut; her girl-next-door look was getting old. Straight bangs, cut just above her eyebrows, and the completely even ended cut that stopped midway down her shoulder blades had been the only style she'd worn her hair in for the better part of her life. It was time for something new.
She glanced at her clock and saw she still had over an hour until her dinner plans. Grabbing her keys and purse, she practically ran out of the apartment and down to her Wrangler that she had gone back to Will's place for sometime in the dead of the night that past weekend. She drove for a few minutes before spotting a chic-looking hair place. She parked the car, and walked into the small salon.
Ivy was told to take a seat and she took up a hair magazine and glanced through the different styles. She decided that she wanted her hair layered and choppy. She was tired of the straight, perfect look. She landed on the page that had the perfect cut right as the stylist called her name. She showed the woman the haircut she wanted and thirty minutes later, she left the shop with her new self.
She met her aunt at an Italian restaurant, and they talked and ate for a few hours while Ivy told her aunt all about Greece, and about how after her mother died she got into some pretty bad habits, namely alcohol abuse. She told her aunt about her rehabilitation program, and how after she got out, she became silent. Not because she didn't want to talk, but because she had nothing to say. She told her aunt how over the years of silence, she had learned to appreciate everything so much more, and learned to control herself so much more; with the exception of that afternoon. She told her aunt all about Karmichael's serum and how it worked. She told Evelyn how she had just revealed her powers to her friends that afternoon, and they seemed to be okay with it all. Evelyn was so grateful to know that Ivy was okay, and living healthily again. She, in return, told Ivy about her husband, and married life, and how they were thinking about having kids, getting a pet, and moving into a larger house so they could really start a family.
The two of them shared laughs and memories of the old times at Sky High, when Christine taught a Physical Defense class to both the Heroes and the Sidekicks. They talked about why Christine had taken Ivy away from Maxville, and Evelyn admitted that there had been a rumor of another Absolute looking for her, and that Christine thought it was best if they leave before anything happened. She said that Christine chose Louisiana because there was a large Super community down there, but it wasn't suspicious.
After an all-too-large dinner and dessert the two women left the restaurant. They walked a little ways down the street before crossing to the other side. The stopped on the corner to say goodbye, when Warren showed up out of what seemed like nowhere.
"Warren." Ivy was shocked to see him.
"Hi." He was just as shocked. "Principal Powers. Hi." His shock then turned to an understanding look.
"Mr. Peace." She nodded curtly.
"What are you doing here? Not that you aren't allowed to be here. Just-- Here." Ivy moved her hands around gesturing to the surrounding vacinity.
"Just got off work." he nodded back to the Chinese restaurant behind him.
"Right, I forgot you worked around here. Me and my aunt were at dinner down the street."
He made a 'Hm' sound and nodded.
"Well, I should be going. It's getting late, and unlike you young people, I need all the sleep I can get." Evelyn smiled humorously. She hugged Ivy and smiled goodbye to her niece. "Mr. Peace." She said politely.
After Evelyn was gone down the street, Ivy turned her attention back to her friend.
"Did you need a ride home?" She offered.
"Nah, I live pretty close. I usually walk." He responded awkwardly.
"You shouldn't walk alone in the dark. It isn't always safe." She cautioned him trying not to sound too motherly.
"I can take care of myself."
"Oh, I didn't mean to imply-- I know you can-- I was just--" She stopped and blushed a little from embarrassment.
He smiled at her pink cheeks.
"A ride home would be great. My feet are killing me."
Ivy looked relieved, and the color in her face returned to normal. She lead the way to her car, and warned him that the seatbelt got stuck sometimes. She turned the car on, and a blast of Spice Girls filled the small space. Warren looked pale, and Ivy changed the song immediately.
"Sorry. I have a weakness for British Pop singers." She apologetically offered a lame excuse.
"Mhm." He raised an accusing eyebrow at her.
She grabbed the CD she wanted and skipped ahead to track six before backing out of the parking spot.
"Puscifer. Good choice." She smiled at his approval and relaxed a little.
The drive to Warrens house was silent aside from her soft singing.
"Before I go tell me, Were you all you claim yourself to be..."
"Left, and it's the third house on the right." Warren interrupted her.
She pulled over to let him out.
"There aren't any lights on. Aren't your parents home?" She looked past him at the dark house, wondering if he would say anything about Baron.
"Moms barely home. She's a writer so she likes to travel to foreign places and crank out her work there. I don't know what difference it makes, but whatever." He looked at the dark house. "Then again, you probably already knew all that."
Ivy ignored the last comment. "Well, art needs to be inspired. Maybe the inspiration she's looking for isn't in Maxville. What kind of writing does she do? My mom never told me specifics, really."
"Novels mostly. Sometimes an editorial, or a magazine article. She'll write for National Geographic occasionally, too." He looked back at Ivy. "Anyway, thanks for the ride." He opened the door and climbed out of the car. He grabbed his bag, and moved to close the door. Before it shut, he stuck his head back in and smiled. "Nice cut, by the way. More you." Warren shut the door and climbed the few steps to his front door.
Ivy gave a small laugh and studied the house. It was two stories, and in an upscale part of town. Not quite what she had expected from the grungy punk-rocker, but she was hardly one to talk about appearances being deceiving. It looks so lonely for just him and his mom... She started the car and drove down the street, realizing he had been in a better mood than when he left her apartment. She made a note to remember to ask him later what was up.
She pulled into the parking garage at her building and headed up to her apartment. Dropping her bag and slipping into gym pants, a sweatshirt, and sneakers she climbed out onto the fire escape that was off of her room. She leaned over the railing and looked out over Maxville. She looked back at the building letting her eyes map out a route to get to the roof so she had a better view.
She jumped a little, grabbing hold of a small ledge above her. She pulled herself up, and swung a leg onto it so she could position herself in a standing manner. She repeated the process, jumping a tad higher so she could wrap her fingers around the top ledge of the building. She hoisted herself onto the edge, and hopped down a foot to the floor below. She assumed the roof was a popular place because there were a few chairs and even a small bench and table. She took a seat on one of the chairs and looked towards the city lights, admiring the soft glow they emitted.
Ivy lost track of how long she had been sitting on the roof of her apartment building, but the wind grew chilly, and she decided it was time to return to the warm comfort of her bed. She pulled her sweatshirt hood up, and wrapped the cloth around her tighter, ignoring the obvious increase of coldness in the air. She tried as slickly as she could to look around, so she stood up and went to the left edge. She looked around a bit and didn't see anything. Something isn't right. Come out, come out, wherever you are. She did the same on the right, and she caught site of a small gray glow coming from a few buildings away. It was a tall figure, and she could tell it was in a cloak, but even her color vision wasn't good enough for her to decipher who it was, or even if it was a man or a woman.
As inconspicuously as she could, she climbed back down to her balcony, and back in her apartment. She closed the window, and pulled the drapes shut. Too tired and worried to change, she crawled into bed and fell asleep.