Chapter 7: Tomorrow

Warren's POV

Since when had 'tomorrow' been so far away?

I'm finally on the front steps of Sky High again. As other students bustle straight past me to do their start-of-the-day routine, my shoulders slump in fatigue; the hours last night had dragged and trudged by like I've never known them to. No matter how much I glared at the setting sun as it crept below the horizon, or at the ceiling or digital clock in my room, time blinked on, unhurried and oblivious to my agonised impatience. I ended waking up more exhausted than when I went to sleep.

Damn that girl and her ability to render me such a wreck.

The thought of drawing whispers by just standing here makes my feet move, but I turn down a different corridor before my homeroom. It's a constant internal barrage of questions on the way – what if I meet her in the corridor? What if she's there before me? How should I react if we meet outside the room? What if the nurse calls me in while she's still treating her? – but it's all for nothing as the nurse calls me into the empty room after I knock.

"How did you sleep?" she turns her chair to face me.

"Little." I close the door.

Her smile is sympathetic but unsurprised. She gestures to the gurney and I place my bag on the ground before taking a seat, readily revealing my forearms and stomach for her inspection. She hums in approval at my forearms.

"Those are looking better," she remarks.

"Still kind of tender though," I correct her.

She nods. "Okay, I can apply more now, but you probably won't need any more on those ones after that. Your stomach, on the other hand…." She raises her eyebrows.

"Yep," I nod. "That one hurts like a bitch."

She chuckles, seemingly unconcerned with my curse. She finds the cream and starts applying it. I flinch a little at the chill at first, but she's so gentle I don't feel any pain. I can't help but hope she's been as gentle with Kait. However many times she's used it.

Following that thought, I ask dryly: "How big is your stock of this stuff anyway?"

Her lips lift up at one side. "Big enough." Her knowing eyes meet mine. "I will admit Kaitlyn has required a significant amount."

I sigh, shaking my head slightly. The nurse straightens from treat my stomach and I pull my T-shirt down again.

"The one on her own stomach, the first week she was here, that has been the worst she's shown me. But she has had others."

I shake my head again. What are you doing, Kait? Why are you just treating the bruises rather than stopping however you're getting them?

"She'll almost certainly tell you later. Maybe not today, maybe not for a few weeks, maybe not until the end of the year. But she will tell you. After you apologise and make up, of course."

My laugh comes out slightly strained. "You seem confident she'll take me back."

She shrugs in that sage way only old people can. "As I said yesterday, she's an incredibly kind and forgiving girl. I could tell how much you meant to her, so as long as you apologise sincerely, she should welcome you back."

The deep breath I take helps; I can't hear my heartbeat in my ears anymore. As I meet Nurse Spex's eyes again, she smiles gently, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"You'll be fine," she says, her words weighty.

I huff once through my nose, my smile, though smaller than others I gave earlier, warmer and more significant.

"I can see why Kait likes coming to you."

She beams. "Call me Julie, dear. It only makes sense that you both do."

I nod to her once before getting off the bench and collecting my bag. I pause with my hand on the door, knowing that I have to say this. I turn back to lock eyes with her.

"Thanks, Julie."

ЖЖЖ

Well, the calm that Julie granted in her office lasted as long as the journey to my homeroom. Since then I've not been paying any attention in my classes because of the generically alarmed static in my head. When Mad Science ends for lunch, I roughly shove my books in my bag and stride out of the room with a frustrated sigh. Everyone keeps out of my way, probably sensing my mood.

Barely registering the route to my locker, my mind is still occupied as I transfer some of my books to the container.

Okay, lunch now, the usual time we meet. How should I approach this? I mean, should I take our usual table? Set up my books in some semblance of normality? Or should I just sit at the table, waiting for the solemn talk and earning more whispers for the weirdness of the situation? Should I even sit at the table at all? Should I loiter in the corridor near the cafeteria? What about food? Should I still wait for her to arrive before I get food? Or would that just –?

Kaitlyn appears on my left as I close my locker. I jump a few inches back.

The proverbial knife hovers in the thick tension between us. As my heart thumps its way through higher gears and my face still holds its deer-in-headlights expression, hers is almost unreadable. Talk about role reversal. Note that I said "almost" though; her eyes, usually as quick to laugh as she is, watch me warily, and she looks as tired as I am. She doesn't break my gaze though, her eyes somehow even bluer because of her grey sweater. I tense briefly as her arm lifts up before glancing at the small plastic bag in her hands. Her hands…. Almost no skin is visible under her bandages, and her sleeves are long enough to cover to the tip of her thumb. Probably deliberate. I swallow. After a few seconds of both of us waiting, I take the offered bag, checking its contents. Food; a cafeteria sandwich pack, some crisps, a chocolate bar and a bottle.

I look back up at her, my lips parted and brow twitching minutely in confusion. I sort of know what I hope this means, but the last thing I want to do now is assume. But how do I ask her? How do I even speak to her again?

She smiles – just very slightly. A brief note of light. Then she gestures to her right with her head, walking away in that direction after holding my eyes for a second more. After quickly, albeit painfully, coming to the conclusion that I need this interaction more than I want to avoid the uncertainty of it, I follow her.

She keeps her head low as she weaves her way through the corridors, and the heroes who are out pay little attention to her. They notice me, being the taller and more imposing out of the two of us, but are too busy scampering away from me to stare long. Kait quickly finds a door to get outside anyway, then leads us to a lone tree round the side of the school about twenty metres away from the edge of the building. Away from curious eyes and gossiping morons. The whole way there, I stay a few paces behind her, undeserving of walking any closer to her.

When we reach the tree, she sits down resolutely, obviously expecting me to do the same without prompting. I do, staring straight at the ground in front of me, afraid to meet her eyes and see the same disapproval and anger I saw yesterday. I pick at individual blades of grass, ripping them from their source of life just to drop them in exactly the same space again. Something needs to be said. I really need to say something to stop us both choking on this thick pressure, but I don't know what to say.

Liar! my mind snaps at me. You know exactly the words you need to say first! Man up, Peace!

Deep breath. "I'm sorry."

The effect is immediate; my chest isn't being crushed anymore, but maybe that's because the agony has burst out, burning my whole torso and forcing my neck to bow further. My eyes close, the effort to keep them open too costly. "I'm so sorry."

Silence reigns for another minute, and my hopelessness grows with each passing second. My fists are tight around the handles of the plastic bag before I hear her sigh.

"Warren."

It's a command as only she can give them; almost shy, unnatural, like she can't believe she's being that firm, but with a tone that suggests the only person you'd disappoint with disobedience is yourself. This is the first time I've heard her voice since…since her scream yesterday. It has the same weariness I heard when we talked about her bruises in the first PE lesson. Only I caused it this time. I meet her eyes, still incredibly blue, in a spark of guilt, hope and curiosity.

She sighs again. "It's not that I'm not grateful for your apology – believe me, I really am. But I want you to tell me precisely what you're sorry for. I want to know you're apologising for the right things."

I can't stop the frown that scrunches my brow – what the hell does she think I'm sorry for? – but I know I can't just disregard her words in anger. So I take a second to gather my thoughts.

"I'm sorry for hurting your hands. I didn't know burning your water would do that. I'm sorry I fought back anyway. Stronghold just got me so angry that I –"

"No!"

My words freeze in my throat at her sharp interruption. Looking back up at her, I swallow as her eyes flash at me and her hard expression pins me in place.

"Don't you dare try to pin this on someone else. If you're going to f*** up, at least have the guts to admit it rather than avoid responsibility."

I scowl, gritting my teeth in anger and frustration. But that rat was the one who made me angry, if it hadn't been for him then –!

"Tell me how the fight started," she insists, breaking my concentration again. "I want you to tell me how that whole thing started."

I stare at her as defiantly as she's staring at me, but only I'm breathing harder than usual; she's completely icy. Fists clenched, I fight against the honest answer that I know I have to give but its acid burns my throat and mouth.

"He tripped near me."

"Right," she nods, her sardonic agreement almost attached to the end of my reply. "You picked a fight with a freshman because he tripped."

Grunting harshly, I avert my eyes from the direct attack. I'd thought it yesterday, but hearing the accusation of doing something so unjustified from her is physically painful.

"Now, I know you despise his family," she barrels on mercilessly, "and there's no way I'm going to convince you to ignore whatever pain his father has caused, but that's still no reason to –"

"You weren't there!"

The words are out of my mouth before I can snatch them back, like throwing a dagger away after pulling it from a wound. Tensing, I dare not move before she reacts to that fumble with my armour. My eyes stay locked on the ground, afraid of seeing a spear poised ready to strike in her gaze.

"Yeah," she stutters slowly, "I know I wasn't there to see the whole thing. But I still think I have enough information to know what went down."

Some weird combination of a groan and a growl squeezes its way through my teeth. I flip my hair forward violently, tugging at the roots at the back of my head. She doesn't get it. She doesn't understand what I'm trying not to say. I almost laugh; that's the stupidest sentence I've thought in a while. Can I really do this though? There's no way this conversation will be resolved if I don't admit this terrifying truth. So I have two choices; cut and run, submitting myself to the festering of my body beneath the layers of spikes, or show this strange girl a glimpse of how damaged I am? A spark of fear twitches my hands in my hair. Groaning again, I bring one knee up to knock my forehead against, my vision obscured by my hair. Good. I squeeze my eyes shut anyway.

"You weren't there," I mutter into the void of my solitude. Kait doesn't reply, knowing that there's more. I swallow harshly.

"I was… angry enough to… to pick a fight with him because… because you weren't there. Because you'd… left me."

Everything stops. Our little bubble holds its breath, the wind dropping, the leaves standing rigid, my fingers still clutching my hair. Kaitlyn tortures me with her silence until I'm ready to hide my face like this forever, to never lock eyes with anyone ever again.

"You look at me right now, Warren Peace."

I'm prepared (I think) for jeering and maybe even light-hearted jokes at how pathetic I really am. What I don't expect is for her voice to shake with anger and tears. My hands take pity on my roots, loosening in surprise, but I remain in this position, blinking down at the ground as I tremble at the thought of meeting those damn eyes again.

"Please?"

It's not a command this time. This time, it's a breathless whimper, a final plea of someone who is almost certain they've lost. I know what'll happen next. My head will remain where it is, and we'll both be able to physically feel the moment this thing we've created – whatever it is – snaps, and we'll grow apart. Whether gradually or immediately, we'll end up avoiding each other walking down the corridors, we'll ask people not to speak about the other because even hearing their name makes us feel sick, we'll look back on high school years and never be able to forget exactly what was lost in this moment and exactly what was lost in all those future moments that might have happened had things been different.

I squeeze my eyes closed and grit my teeth. But things will be different.

I drop my hands and my guard, raising my head to meet her eyes.

Shit, they're so blue. Almost like she's using her powers. I wouldn't be surprised if she is, the tears pouring down her face are so expressive maybe she's just connected with them automatically. Her expression is a whole mash of emotions: desperation, despair and burning fury.

"Why do you keep thinking that?" she gasps, a fresh set of tears squeezing out from her steely eyes. "I know most other people have given up. I know. And it makes me…so angry. It makes me so sad that they didn't see what I see in you, that they completely missed the fact that you're just a regular person with feelings the same as anyone else, and with the potential to do so much good.

"And, newsflash: I don't stay with you because I pity you, or simply because I want to see you become a wonderful hero, like some proud parent. I stay with you because I enjoy your company! Because I actually want to spend time with you, to talk with you. Believe it or not, you…are my best friend. The others are awesome, and I can even be more open with Layla than everyone else, but you…. I've revealed things to you about myself that I've never let anyone aside from Julie know. I can talk to you with such closeness I've not felt in years! Why the hell would I walk away from that?"

Eyes wide, I stare at this spark in the darkness, the clearest and purest note of light I've ever seen, unapologetic. Swallowing doesn't help with how dry my mouth is. Is…is this real?

She suddenly scowls. Despite her tears, her glare isn't diminished.

"So will you get it into your thick head, already?" She suddenly lifts her hands, thwacking my shoulder with each word. "I. Am. Not. Leaving!"

I hadn't even stopped her from hitting me, not least because it would have been stupid to try and defend myself with my forearms. I just blink at her as she settles back down after her outburst, not meeting my eyes, her scowl still in place above cheeks that are suddenly a lot redder than I remember them being.

Words aren't really working right now, and hell knows how I'm supposed to respond to that except with the explosion of hope that's happening in my chest right now. Now I'm the one staring at her while she's avoiding eye contact, fiddling with the grass and examining the tree. Only thirty seconds pass before she swallows, swipes a bandaged hand over her face before looking at me again. Her cheeks are still red and slightly puffy, as are her eyes, and her nose is a little wet.

Damn. She's…actually beautiful.

I've sort of thought it before, of course but…now I'm willing to accept it consciously. She is genuinely, objectively beautiful, even if the jerk in my chest indicates a not-so-objective response. Before I know what's happening, my lips are tugging up at the corners. Her answering smile seems just as reflexive but a lot quicker than mine, and she huffs out a laugh at the ground.

"So," she mutters, "have I made my point?"

"Uh," I stutter, laughing a little. Laughing! "Yeah, I, I think I got it."

"Good." Her smile is less confused and hysterical now. Instead, it's the sure and steady warmth of a fire in the winter.

Until she looks at her right hand. "Oh, crap," she says, laughing self-consciously. "I think I've burst some of the blisters."

Even though it's a reminder of my bad mistakes yesterday, her blasé attitude to her injuries allows me to relax. I even chuckle at her reaction.

"Serves you right for abusing me with injured hands," I smirk, standing up. "Come on; we need to get you to Julie."

She frowns as she gingerly gets to her feet. "Since when have you called her Julie?"

I shrug happily. "Since this morning."

"Ah," she smiles knowingly.

I push her head away jokingly as I grab our lunch bags from the floor, relishing in the way she laughs. She's laughing again. She's laughing again with me. Shit, when was the last time I was this happy?

We make our way to Julie's office pretty much unnoticed; everyone else was in the cafeteria. When we enter her office, she spins around in her chair to face us and grins as she notices our faces, probably now glowing.

"Hey, Julie," Kaitlyn smiles both cheerfully and sheepishly. She holds up her hand to show the red bandages. "I was maybe a little stupid."

She raises an eyebrow in happy disapproval. "Uh-huh."

Kait and I glance at each other and chuckle. Julie joins in quietly before shaking her head and gesturing to the gurney. "Up you get."

Kait hops up lightly onto the bench, resting her left hand down while gingerly holding her right in front of her, and I take a seat on the chairs by the wall to her right. Julie comes back shaking a bottle of something. She puts the bottle on her desk across the room from me, and gently takes Kaitlyn's hand. As her fingers touch the bandages though, Kait starts.

"Oh, uh, wait," she stops Julie before turning to me. "Um…do you want to stay or wait outside? It's entirely up to you."

I'm confused. She doesn't sound like she's uncomfortable with me being here, but I can't think of another reason why she'd think I wouldn't want to be here. But I glance at her bandages again. Ah. Right. I'm the one who caused those injuries in the first place. It's not that she doesn't want me here because of that, her tone and words made that clear; she's worried about how I'd feel seeing her injuries.

I stare at her hands for a few seconds before taking a deep breath. "I'm staying."

It takes a few more seconds before I can meet their eyes, but I'm not disappointed when I do. It was the answer Kait was hoping for, if the poorly-concealed relief and pride in her eyes is anything to go by. Julie subtly winks so Kaitlyn can't see. I try not to grin; I mean, it's weird to grin when your friend is getting treated for really bad injuries in the nurse's office, right?

"Right, then…" Julie resumes carefully and gently picking at the bandages on Kait's right hand. The first few inches of her wrist revealed seem fine, and my hope picks up that she isn't too badly hurt. Then the heel of her hand appears. As more bandage unravels, I'm horrified at the damage I see; skin an angry red and wet-looking from burst blisters, many blisters still fresh. I swallow the small amount of bile, but it just gets lodged in my throat as a stone of shame. I quickly glance away, down to my own hands, rested in the air with my forearms on my knees. Completely unharmed, despite being the ones to hold the fire.

Of course, my brain spits at me. Even though you're the one on fire, it's always someone else who gets burned.

"Stop spiralling."

My head snaps up; Kait's gazing at me with such kindness my heart clenches into a tight and painful fist.

"Surface wounds heal, Warren," she says quietly, never breaking eye contact. "And the deeper wound that this left already healed ten minutes ago."

With a deep breath and a sigh, I expel some self-loathing and smile gratefully back. But my frown returns quickly as I look at her hands again.

"They won't scar, right, Julie?" I ask quietly.

Julie gives me a quick but warm and meaningful look before her attention goes back to peeling the bandages off. "It's very unlikely they will. There may – may – be some slight discolouration of the skin pigments, but that should be the extent of the lasting damage, if any happens at all."

Another sigh. "Good to hear. Thanks."

Once Kait's bandages are off, Julie applies the burn cream to her hands, and I study her face the whole time to watch for any sign of pain. Apart from a few flinches, she remains impassive, and she doesn't seem to be putting it on for me either. I smile at Julie's profile, grateful of how much she takes care of her.

Julie wraps Kait's hands up in fresh bandages, and she tells her to stay there and let it dry before turning to me. "Okay, tough guy," she grins. "Your turn."

"Huh?" I blink at her.

"Your bruises," she gestures to me. "Let me take a look."

"What, now?"

She raises her eyebrow. "You're here now, aren't you? It only makes sense."

Sure, it makes sense, but…Kait's still here. She's going to see them.

I frown at myself. So what? I've not seen her bruises but I've known they're there. And I've just seen the scars that she's hiding from everyone else. Why shouldn't she see the bruises from the fight I started and she tried so hard to stop?

"Sure," I shrug out of my jacket, glad my voice didn't crack. I display the bruises on the outside of my forearms, and they look a damn sight better than even this morning.

"Did you try and block one of Will's punches?" Kait asks incredulously, eyes on the bruises as Julie takes a look at them.

"Nah, I blocked a punch from the ceiling that would have otherwise snapped my neck."

"…Oh. Smart move."

I grin.

Julie glances up at me. "You're lucky your reflexes were so good." Her disapproval is clear in her tone and face.

"You're telling me," I quirk my eyebrow. Then I frown. "Wait a minute," I turn back to Kait. "How come you don't know I didn't block one of his punches? You were there."

She smiles awkwardly. "I was sort of curled up in a ball on the floor. I wasn't really paying attention to what was happening around me."

Pretty sure my heart just got sucker-punched. "Oh. Right."

Julie thankfully fills the awkward silence by saying that the bruises on my forearms are healing fine, so she doesn't put any cream on, as she predicted. So she moves on to the bruise on my stomach. When I lift up my T-shirt, Kait suddenly chokes. My eyes snap to her, worried her bruises hurt.

She's looking to the side, avoiding my gaze. "Of course, you'd be ripped," she mutters. The red is back in her cheeks.

My grin melts into a smirk. "You thought I didn't work out?" Why is my voice suddenly lower?

I work hard for a body like mine, so when people notice – my biceps or abs or whatever, whether openly or subtly – I'm often kind of proud. But my pride has never…smouldered like this before. Why is this different?

She rolls her eyes and meets mine after hesitating briefly. The air between us slowly heats up.

"Not in my office, you two."

Ice bucket.

"What?" I look to Julie, desperately trying to be clueless. She raises her eyebrow and smirks, and the heat that lingered in the air before seeps into my face instead. Julie grins, finishing treating my stomach and stands, gesturing for me to lower my T-shirt again.

"Alright, you both need to let your respective balms dry, Kaitlyn especially, so you can stay here for the moment. I just need to head out on an errand, but I trust you both enough to leave you here. Don't touch anything; I'll know if you have."

And with that ominous threat, she leaves the room. I make a face at Kait, then grin as she laughs.

She glances down to inspect her arms, elbows rested delicately on her knees and hands hovering awkwardly in the air in front of her. My eyes stay on her though, on this stubborn candle flame that keeps breaking through the darkness.

She's got more fire than I have, I think, amused, and I huff out a quiet laugh.

"So, uh," I begin awkwardly. She helps by simply looking like she's waiting for me to finish rather than like she's trying not to laugh at my stuttering. The rest of the sentence still comes out hesitantly though.

"Where actually were you yesterday?"

With a gentle, knowing smile, she raises her eyebrows at me very slightly. I refuse to look away from her, to admit even further defeat or weakness, or whatever it is that's making my face feel hot.

"Mr Robins wanted to discuss an interesting point I'd raised in my essay about how I'd defeat a telepathic villain. We both got caught up in the discussion; we didn't realise how much time had gone by."

Of course; the teacher wanted to see her after class. Of course it would be something as normal and innocent as that. I blow out a breath, hanging my head as I chuckle in self-deprecation. "I'm such a moron."

"Yes," she giggles, "you are. But that's okay."

We smile at each other again before her stomach makes a particularly mournful groan. Both the sound and her surprised embarrassment are too much; I burst out laughing as she stutters out an apology. After I've calmed down enough, I smirk at her.

"I think maybe you should eat something."

She raises her hands slightly. "Can't; I should let these dry properly first."

"How long do you think that'll be?"

She shrugs. "Another twenty minutes maybe."

Scarfing a school lunch twenty minutes before class is never fun. And I'd feel bad if I started eating my lunch before she can even touch hers. Before I chicken out, I wheel one of the small trolleys closer to both of us. I deliberately avoid Kait's curious gaze as I set up our respective sandwich packs on the surface, before I pick up one of her cheese and ham ones and weirdly wave it in her face.

"Here."

She has just enough time to blink in surprise before her face flushes red. "You want to –?"

"Just take a bite, okay?"

Dammit, how many times is my face going to flare up today?

Probably as many times as your arms flared up yesterday.

I glance away from Kait as I scowl at my thoughts, still waiting for her to bite into her sandwich. I feel the bread shift in my hands as she takes a presumably dainty bite. I don't know how the hell you can practically force yourself not to blush further, but I succeed, dammit.

I force my attention away from the situation by snapping a bite of my own sandwich. I frown, finishing my mouthful before turning back to Kait.

"You got me coronation chicken but got yourself cheese and ham?"

She shrugs. "I remember you saying that you really liked it. Besides," she smiles sadly, "I'm more suited to plain things."

My frown deepens. Why the hell would she say that? Not that she prefers plain things, but that they're more appropriate for her. If there's one word I would use to describe her, it wouldn't be "plain".

Who are you, Kaitlyn?

"Anyway," she quickly moves on, and I don't interrupt; I just have to trust that she'll tell me when she's ready. "Not only did you cause me these," she lifts her arms slightly, "but you also triggered Will's powers, consequently transferring him to the hero class. Congratulations on such a legendary backfire."

"Yeah, yeah," I growl. I'd heard that rat had transferred, but hadn't given it much thought at the time.

"Well, you must be happy anyway; you've now got one of your little posse in your class."

Kait takes another bite of her sandwich as I offer it to her, flipping her eyebrows in a decidedly unimpressed way.

"What?" I ask, sensing something else going on here.

She shrugs. "It would have been nice…had he actually remembered that we were friends."

"Come again?"

Her smile is more like a mournful sneer than her usual sunny optimism. "He didn't see me waving. As soon as he set his sights on the Pink Wonder – uh, Gwen Grayson – he went all dreamy-eyed and seemed to forget that I would even be in the same class as him. I tried to catch his eye a couple more times, but he always just engrossed in her."

I scoff, shaking my head at his idiocy and cluelessness. After a brief pause, I decide to test the waters of banter.

"I could always beat him up again if you want."

She shrugs lightly, a glint in her eyes. "Well, you could try, sure."

"Watch it, Fresh," I glare, unable to suppress a matching smile.

She laughs mischievously and sticks her tongue out at me, so we both end up laughing. I never would have imagined the day would end like this, after such a colossal mess-up yesterday. But I guess I should have remembered that about Kaitlyn Rivers; she never does as I expect.

I really am lucky to know her.

Hey, guys! Sorry if the very end of this chapter seems a little rushed. I sort of just wanted to get it done. I had a lot of fun writing this chapter – as I seem to have with all other chapters of this fanfic! – so I hope you had as much fun and as much of a roller-coaster ride as I did.

Send me your thoughts!

Fly on,

NitnatRide