Disclaimer: I do NOT own Meet the Robinsons
AN: Yup…I totally lied didn't I? *dodges tomatoes* I know, I know it's been ages. I'd had most of this chapter planned and written but then the sections weren't flowing smoothly. Glad to say that they are now. : D
My life got kinda hectic: sister got married, new brother-in-law got injured on the job, family keeps catching colds and givin' em to me (gee thankssss), and various other snags along the way.
And not to mention Mount. Writer's Block, which decided to park itself right on top of my muse crushing her instantly (…she got better).
Other Notes: (I know I'm chatty today)
Lucky OCB and others who've expressed concern: My plea is Guilty. I DO alternate 'tween present and past tense. A lot of times I'm writing while I'm 'in the moment' which leads to countless mishaps: misspellings, grammar travesties, and other peculiarities. As I'm sure any of you guys could attest with numerous examples from my own pieces.
Though…my personal favorite is when that lovely auto-correct feature kicks in and toooootaaaallly changes the word I intended into something else…completely changing the flavor. Hee, I've had some fun ones. (And you only ever find those AFTER you've uploaded)
All I can say is, yeah…I usually I catch the big fish, but the little ones slip through.
Thank you for bringing it to my attention, I'll try to be more vigilant when I'm revising.
(I can't promise flawlessness, but I'll do what I can…or maybe finally look into getting a Beta Reader…and letting them stress over it…tee hee.)
Chapter 4
Cornelius wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans as he took a deep breath. Here he was. He was really going to do it. It was Saturday; he was taking Franny to her tournament. It was almost…kinda like a date…almost.
Cornelius blinked—dumbfounded as said girl walked past him towards his car.
It was amazing; Franny really could make any outfit beautiful.
Standing there dressed in her karate gee, she seemed like a pigtailed-martial arts-goddess.
If anyone was gonna kick his butt, he'd want it to be her.
Er…not that he'd…wait..ugh…man she made an idiot out of him sometimes. Ugh…Geniuses and hormones and smart-beautiful-future-brides just didn't mix very well…
As he stood there openly admiring her. All her father's thinly veiled warnings began fading away…
Oh the possibilities today could bring…
"-nelius?"
"Mmhmmm?" the blond was already daydreaming of soft smiles and hand-holding and long dark eyelashes fluttering demurely at him.
"Could you…unlock the car please?"
He snapped to attention, "OH, yes…yes I can."
He fumbled with his keys managing to open the car door on his third attempt.
She tossed her sportsbag on the floorboard and climbed inside.
Once her seatbelt was buckled, he closed her door and went around to the driver's side (horribly aware that her brother Gaston was watching him like a hawk—no doubt eager to report the slightest wrongdoing to Mr. Framagucci).
In fact, Cornelius didn't breathe easy until they were well onto the interstate; Radio music filling what would've been horribly awkward silence.
He'd already assured Fran four times that they could change the station to whatever she wanted.
She'd just nod; her left hand on the armrest between them, fingers clenching then relaxing then clenching again.
It took him a while to realize that she wasn't (thankfully) embarrassed to be chauffeured by him.
She was nervous—her frame taut with tension and her expression seemed almost…fearful.
He wanted to ease her…only…he wasn't very good with words…yeah he could write speeches and essays but that was different. You could plan and revise and structure lines on a page.
Conversing…now that was a whole different ballpark—it was a live flowing thing that you couldn't correct once it escaped you.
His difficulties in communication only worsened with her presence—being tongue-tied seemed to be his chronic condition whenever Franny Framagucci was within ten yards.
She was his kryptonite…and yet…he couldn't seem to get enough…
So speaking was kinda out of the question, any chance of an inspirational spiel was beyond his capacities at the moment (heck, saying her name and not squeaking was a big enough challenge).
And he couldn't really share any similar experiences (He'd spent elementary school hiding under tables and in supply closets to avoid physical confrontations with bullies).
He probably should've just left her to her own devices (before Science exhibitions he often preferred waiting alone in a room with a water bottle and a writing pad).
She may very well be the same; using the silence to meditate.
Yes…he should leave her alone…except that it was Franny…and he seemed to have an unceasing urge to nose his way into her business at the slightest opportunity.
He clenched the steering wheel, stealing a glance at her.
No…no, he should leave her alone…yeah…yeah that's what he should do…
It seemed like the right thing to do…
Certainly the smart thing to do…
The SAFE thing to do…
So he's not quite sure what possessed him.
Maybe it was the sight of her in distress.
Or how small and alone her perfect digits seemed.
Or maybe it was some inner, selfish craving to experience the sensation:
He boldly laid his hand over hers.
"You'll do great" he told her, risking a quick glance off the road to gaze at her lovely brown eyes.
She gave a hesitant smile; her fingers curling his closer.
He grinned facing the road again and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
And though it would end too soon (when he needed to turn the steering wheel), feeling their fingers intertwined gave him hope.
Cornelius sat as far forward as possible on the bleacher. Eyes keen on the sparring match. Despite spending over eight hours here in the auditorium, he was far from bored.
A natural born scientist, he leapt at the chance of gaining logic.
Being…less than athletic, he knew precious little about Marshall Arts besides Kung Fu movies and a crash-course of facts from the desperate round of "Google-ing" he did last night.
Combined with the observations he'd made today, he concluded that tournaments like these typically had two divisions: Part 1 Forms, Part 2 Sparring.
The martial artists were divided into subcategories of belt rank, gender, and age.
Fourteen rings, three judges per ring (when two judges disagreed, the third judge would make the call).
Rounds started lowest belt to highest and youngest age to oldest.
He watched waves of white, yellow, orange, and purple belts pass through the rings. But then the masses abruptly tapered off.
Green belts and up were rarer breeds and Cornelius instantly noted the correlation: the higher the belt the fewer the people.
Natural Selection at work; where talent and grit trumped punctuality and attendance.
Just the way the world worked…he reasoned as he watched parents and friends console miserable combatants (ones who were leaving with nothing more than an obligatory competition ribbon: the words imprinted on them just salt in the wound).
Cornelius glanced at the red ribbon beside him.
"All Who Try Will Succeed," He scoffed adding a 'Sometimes… if they're actually any good.'
Though, he supposed it was easy for him to think that.
Beside him sat a 1st Place Forms Division trophy.
Franny had worked her magic. She was so graceful; arms and legs moving in clean lines, precise angles. Almost like an aggressive dance of sharp actions contrasted with elegant fluidity.
No one compared.
But this part…Part 2…this part was hard, sitting here watching her take a hit. Not to say she didn't pack a punch, but the other girls were so much bigger.
He flexed his hands in agitation. These hands which so many felt held the "Future" in their grasp; that were supposedly capable of amazing, incredible scientific phenomena that would undoubtedly bring hope and prosperity to all…felt utterly useless right now.
He wanted…he wanted to…protect her.
She'd no doubt be furious at that, probably mistake it for some form of chauvinism.
When it wasn't that at all; he knew she was strong, smart, and competent…But somehow…seeing her standing alone…facing an obstacle without him…
The judges had the two girls bow and dismissed them to the side, before gesturing for the final two contestants to rise.
Franny promptly went to the sidelines, shaking her opponents hand as they both sat down cross-legged.
She then turned to spot him in the crowd and smiled, or tried to—her mouthpiece (too large for her small mouth) distorted the expression.
He grinned and waved—hoping he looked unshakably confident.
All he could do right now was offer support—it just had to be enough.
"Third place" Franny grumbled, turning the squat little trophy over in her hands.
"You were amazing" Cornelius assured as he carried her sports bag.
"You're just being nice" Franny replied, though she beamed all the same.
Cornelius smiled; everything was going swimmingly. Now they could go back to his car and grab the ice chest for an "impromptu" picnic…that he'd been planning for the last three days.
He'd borrowed an in-depth encyclopedia on amphibians from his university's library.
Yeah, it was actually a Reference Book and not supposed to leave the building, but he and the Librarian were tight.
He and Franny could discuss her amphibious ambitions over their late afternoon lunch.
Now he'd staked the place out a few days back and there was a great spot under an oak right by-
"Well, well, well. If it ain't Froggy Franny?" scoffed a strapping teen, leaning against the wall by the exit.
A chorus of exaggerated "ribbits" sounded from his groupies—miscreants in frayed gee pants and ripped up tank tops.
Clearly as the largest and strongest, the boy who spoke was their ringleader.
Neil's eyes narrowed.
Jocks: a natural predator of nerds.
Usually they could be outsmarted or easily avoided; but that's if a nerd knew to anticipate them.
Jocks were a dangerous breed; more brawn than brains…but brains weren't much use when they were splattered on the ground.
Hence, every nerd's common instinct was to steer clear of them at all costs...
He started to reach for Franny's hand, to lead her to an alternate escape route.
But she crossed her arms, stubbornly standing her ground; not impressed at the least by his great stature and muscular frame.
Other girls might've swooned a bit at the boy's short cropped brown hair, sun-burnt complexion, and dimpled smile.
But Franny Framagucci wasn't like other girls; a fact Neil inwardly celebrated.
She wasn't intimidated or flattered by heaps of male attention… (For better or worse)…
Or maybe she also found his large upturned nose reminiscent of wild hogs…
"Josh" she growled, lips curling in distaste.
"Franz" he grinned, reaching over and tugging on a pigtail.
She swatted him away, "Stop it!"
Cornelius watched the exchange with concern, catching Franny's eye.
"Josh Kerwitz, Class A Jerkwad." She informed Cornelius "He moved here when I was still an orange belt. He thinks he's God's gift to the world and that we're all supposed to worship him."
"Well we've all got our purpose in life" Josh smiled as he strutted forward, meaty fists resting on his hips—clearly feeling he was some sort of Adonis. "You should be pleased you can worship me every Saturday. Not every girl gets that chance."
"Excuse me while I throw up on your altar" Franny glared.
"Sheesh, on a warpath Franny. Guess you're right though-"
"-always right" Franny muttered.
"-We're not third-graders anymore…" he smiled, eyes darkening with something that set Neil's teeth on edge.
Franny rolled her eyes, "And yet amazingly, you're dumber now then you were then. School should give you a refund."
"So harsh," the boy muttered, raking a hand through his short hair, "I mean really, what's the deal Franz? Are you like always PMS-ing?"
The other boys whooped and jeered; laughing harder at the girl's scandalized expression.
Franny flushed deeply, too shocked to snap back; the person beside her had no such problem.
"Don't talk to Franny like that!" Cornelius hissed; feeling his blood pounding in his ears.
"Oooooh," Josh chuckled as he swaggered forward "looks like Franny's got herself a little boyfriend. Careful boys, he looks pretty tough."
He brushed by Cornelius, knocking him hard in the shoulder.
The blond grimaced but refrained from rubbing the sore area—that's what the jerk wanted.
"So what exactly you two got goin' on, huh? Huh, Dweeb?"
Cornelius glared while the bully sized him up.
"Hello, earth to nerd, I'm speaking English over here. You comprendez? I asked you a question. Are you like, heh, her tutor?"
"Beat it Josh or I'll tell the senseis what-"
"I'm her boyfriend" Cornelius shot back coldly and confidently enough that the other boy got defensive.
"No you aren't" he argued, backpedaling "Franz doesn't have a boyfriend. Her dad won't let her, and she certainly wouldn't go for-"
"You heard her yourself, she doesn't go for Neanderthals. Nerds do everything better—even dating."
Meanwhile, Franny went slackjawed and bright red—she felt simultaneously embarrassed and…euphoric…a giddy 'I'm-soaring-through-the sky' happiness that threatened to burst from her chest combined with an 'Oh-my-god-my-love-life-is-being-publically-discussed.'
Josh locked eyes with Franny and he must've saw something, because he suddenly reached out and grabbed her, dragging her over to him.
"Josh what're you do-"
"So you finally learned how to appreciate a good time, huh Franny?" there was something strangely pained in his voice. "Really though, is he the best you can do?" he breathed into her ear.
Using his stature to loom over her, he stared down at her, his face incredulous and disgusted.
"And here I thought you were always a prude. But you're not. Well, I can show you a good time. A way better time than he could ever give you, so let's ditch the nerd."
Cornelius watched with mounting horror and disgust. What a total psycho!
He could NOT let this happen.
Maybe every nerd envisioned himself as a hero…
Maybe it was the idea of ANY guy trying to make a move on his future wife…
Maybe it was because he'd spent the last several hours repeatedly watching jabs, reverse punches, and illegal uppercuts and elbows…and it awakened some primal aggressive side he didn't know existed…
Maybe it was because of the way her eyes were beseeching him for help—lips silently mouthing his name…
Or maybe he was just plain crazy…
Regardless, without further thought of logic or consequences or black belts and weight differences….
Cornelius cocked back his fist and struck HARD.
Gaston Framagucci let out a deep sigh as he picked up the telephone, "…hello you've reached Harold's Hot Dogs on a Stick. We are available for parties and other celebrations. My name's Gaston and I…" he sighed again "am eager to help you today"
"Gaston! Gaston I-"
"Whoa, whoa whoa Franny?" he looked around making sure none of his co-workers were listening. If he got one more strike against him…he'd lose this job…crappy as it was. "You know you're not supposed to call me here. I'm working and-"
There was a sob on the other end.
"Fran! What's wrong?"
There was more sniffling. Not good.
His little sister was tough; he and Art had worked hard to ensure that with a lifetime of roughhousing and noogies.
The tournament, he thought suddenly, did she break a bone?
"C-c-cornelius-"
Brown eyes narrowed, if that blond dork laid a hand on his sister…it was gonna be Mortal Combat when he got a hold of him.
FINISH HIM! Echoed in his brain…should probably stop spending his work breaks in the next-door arcade….
"He what? WHAT?"
"-and now he's hurt and it's my fault and I-I-I think he hates me now"
Gaston was at a loss. Being sick last weekend, he really can't afford to miss another shift.
"Did you call Mom or Dad?"
"No…you know they don't like it when I…interrupt stuff..."
Yeah, because this wasn't interrupting him…
"It's just…you always know what to do"
He wanted to be angry; by all means he should be! Franny always came crying to him whenever things got tough.
One minute she'd be grousing to anyone who'd listen that he was an absolute troll. The next she'd be begging him for help. Seriously, the gall…
Ugh…women…
And yet…he couldn't help feeling smug…she counted on him as the one she could trust.
Not Art…who their parents constantly hailed as their perfect offspring.
Not their parents who insisted on being "in the know" 24-7. And not in that 'we're concerned parents who care about your welfare' sense but that 'you come home this instant and finish mowing this lawn' way.
Personally, Gaston often felt like they should add "part-time jailers" to their résumés.
Sure he and Fran argued all the time, but he was the one you could call on when it mattered.
"I-I just…I really messed this up Gaston. I-I-I-"
"I'm on my way" He assured her. "Just hold tight, I'll get there."
He hung up, whipped his apron off, and grabbed his jacket by the door.
"Where do you think you're going?" His boss, Mr. Tortini, scowled.
"Little Sis Emergen-"
"No! No this is the last straw Gaston Framagucci! If you leave now Mister, you can kiss this job goodbye. I don't care if your father and I have been friends since childhood. I can't keep an employee so unreliable."
Gaston looked back towards the door. SO close.
"You hear me Boy? I did this as a huge favor to your Papa. No one else would take you with YOUR track record."
Unfortunately for Mr. Tortini those were the wrong words to say.
Gaston slowly turned to face his boss.
Mr. Tortini frowned. The teen didn't look too remorseful at all. Well he'd wipe that smug look off the boy's face-have him scrape the grills and clean the toilets. Prideful brat, he'd teach him some humility.
"Good. Now get your apron back on, you know we get an afternoon rush" he instructed; waiting for that sullen look of teenaged resignation.
But the boy continued smirking.
"I quit."
Franny stared at the sky blankly, not quite believing this turn of events—that was the boy who'd pulled her braids in elementary school. Who waved dead, half-dissected frogs in front of her face while singing "Figaro" last year in biology class.
She should've kicked his butt! For all that stuff, let alone creeping her out, and being mean to Cornelius…but…
She'd seen something…scary in his eyes and suddenly all her escape maneuvers and karate moves momentarily winked out of existence.
Maybe it was that horrible revelation…He liked her…
Josh Kerwitz liked her. Her stomach flopped unpleasantly.
He did all those…awful….deeds because he liked her?
What sort of terrible person did horrible things to someone they liked?
Monster…
She shook her head; the adults were reaming Josh's posse for information, because he wasn't saying a word…for the sake of his reputation, if nothing else…
No, he wasn't afraid of fighting going down on his records…
He just wouldn't be able to live it down…having a tooth knocked out…by a nerd…
Hesitantly she walked over to where Neil was sitting against a tree. He was mopping his nose with a wad of toilet paper from the men's room.
She wrung a wet rag fretfully between her hands…if he never forgave her for this, she'd understand.
"Well…at least it's not broken" Franny tried brightly. Earlier one of the tournament's medics had cheerfully informed them of that.
He glared at her, not comforted in the slightest—he had a presentation in Physics Monday morning and now he was probably going to be sporting two black eyes.
"Oh Cornelius," she murmured, sinking to her knees beside him.
He stubbornly faced the other direction, hoping she'd take the hint and leave him be…so he could compose himself. He felt like such a fool. What on earth made him think he could take that guy?
Cool hands guided him backwards.
"Fran?" he squeaked.
She laid his head across her lap, "Shh. S'okay," she crooned, tilting his head back. She placed a wet rag gently against his nose—though the action still made him wince.
"Poor Baby" she sighed.
He felt himself bristle, yes pathetic.
Her hands through his hair, fingernails gently gliding across his scalp…oh yeah…
Suddenly his throbbing nose seemed worth the cost.
He lazily glanced up, admiring her profile. She was staring ahead, oblivious to what she was doing to him.
She absent-mindedly continued her ministrations, unaware that his ears were particularly sensitive—and every time her fingers brushed them it sent pleasant shivers down his spine.
Just a reflex mothering instinct…
That was…disappointing…Still…he'd take what he could get.
Franny bit her lips to keep from grinning (which was totally inappropriate considering the chain-of-events).
Still, it was nice…very nice…alright it was pretty friggin' awesome. Here her crush was in her lap, and she was getting to play with his hair…which had fascinated her from Day One.
And she thought 1st Place in Forms would be the highlight of her day.
She was amazed to find his gravity-defying hair to be quite soft. She'd always suspected that he'd gel it to do this. Nope.
Au Naturale.
"Your hair" she giggled, pulling a lock to the side and watching it spring back up.
He frowned, "I know, it's awful."
She blinked, running her hand through it again "…no it's not"
"Fran" he muttered, staring her straight in the eye "I can't do anything with it. It sticks up. ALWAYS."
He sounded so down about…
"Hmm" she removed her hands, oblivious to his look of loss. "Well, Cornelius I can see that I'm going to have to educate you."
She hesitated for a moment—countless memories and ribbing from her childhood flashing through her mind.
Still, if it could lighten his mood…
She removed the plaits from her hair, knowing from experience that her cowlick had sprung right up.
"Consider yourself defeated. THIS is a reeeal hair-don't."
He looked up at her, lips twitching into a handsome smile.
"See? I look ridicul-"
"I like it"
"Huh?"
"I like it. It's" he reached a hand up and twirled his fingers in the curl "cute on you."
She felt her face heat up and her heart race.
You know what? She was gonna go for it. This was the 21st Century. Girls could make the first move.
Heck yeah!
She started to lower over him.
Except…she's never kissed a guy before…well yeah relatives on the cheek and stuff…but…
Well it couldn't be that hard!
Yeah!
Yeah….
Yup…any day now she'd find the courage…
Cornelius blinked and frowned, fighting the urge to fidget.
She'd paused in her descent.
Was she having second thoughts?
His eyebrow twitched, as his frustration mounted.
Kiss me already!
He had no qualms about her initiating their first kiss, if she'd just…you know…DO IT!
But he could literally FEEL time ticking away.
A few more beats passed and his resolve strengthened; Alright. She needed some help. No problem. He reached up, letting his palm rest gently against her nape and guided her down to him.
Here it was.
The moment he'd been gagging for since he turned fourteen and his hormone switch had been activated.
Yes. Yes. Yes.
Her breath fanned against his lips, this was it!
'Happily Ever After here we come!'
Yessss….
3…2…1…Lift Of-
"Hey Franny! I came as fast as I-"
"Eep!"
Neil's head hit the ground as she whipped out from under him to meet her brother.
Great. Now he could add concussion to his list of ailments.
He swore loudly—earning stupefied looks from the Framagucci siblings; as though they thought nerds were incapable of such a feat. Well, that was a common misconception. Larger vocabularies only meant more bad words to choose from.
He stammered a half-hearted apology all the while cursing his luck
Phase 2: Mission Thwarted.
Results Inconclusive
Read and Review please! : DDDD
Poor poor Cornelius