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Chapter Text
MON JAN 31
While I certainly wanted to be more social, I wasn't sure about throwing myself into the deep end, as it were. In hindsight, they'd been planning this outing before Vicky invited me, so it seemed entirely likely to be a group social thing with her friends. Which... didn't appeal as much.
I hung back after my last class, slipped off my shoes- it was getting harder to put them back on, I felt so blind- and got out my phone. They turned everything back on right away after classes, right? So I'd have a signal. I sent off a couple of texts.
'Hey Vicky, I forgot I had plans with my dad today, can we hang out later this week?' and 'Hey Amy, I forgot I had plans after school, and I didn't want to feel like a third wheel anyway. Maybe we can hang out later?'
The reply from Vicky was a quick and cheerful 'KK, ttyl!' while the one from Amy was more interesting.
'Going t let me sfr alone, I c how it is.' Oh geez, was she mad at me? I had to reply fast. I shoved my shoes in by bag and dodged the thinning crowd with feetvision while I typed.
'No! I just have martial arts every day this week, need to cancel in advance, and can't do that while the school's dark' Send. I thought about it, and also added, 'I'm also pretty bad with people, and I thought this was a big group thing.'
I was well out of school and on my way to the bus by the time I got a reply. 'k, np' at... least she didn't seem mad? Maybe she was joking earlier and I overreacted? I started hyperventilating a little. People were hard! I got to the stop, hung a bit back from the other students, and tried to calm down.
It wasn't far to my stop, near dad's work. I probably could've run it and gotten there about half an hour later, but I wanted the extra time to talk with dad. He was in the middle of a call when I got there, but it wasn't long to wait. "What's up, Taylor?"
"Well..." I thought of the stuff I'd wanted to ask about, over the course of brainstorming at school. "Do we have any fans?" He looked confused. "Y'know, foldy..." in my demonstration, my hands wound up approximating the shape of a shadow-puppet bird. I blushed and dropped my arms to my sides. "Never mind." Dad chuckled and shook his head, he knew what I meant. "Anyway, I was thinking about making the most of my elements, those came to mind, plus maybe some water canteens? Just to make sure I have water around." The deadpan look he gave me was stifling. "I know, know, but we have sunny days every now and then, plus I can drink it on runs. Still not completely sure I can pull all the dirt and gunk out of water." He hummed and nodded.
"You want a lighter, too?" He asked.
I held up my hand and a ball of fire started merrily crackling away in my palm. "Nooot really necessary." I snuffed it out, and hummed thoughtfully. My elements could be incredibly deadly if I wasn't careful with them. "And... maybe some weapons?" Dad's eyes widened, and I rushed to clarify. "Just blunt things! Like those police batons. It's a lot safer than burning people, or hitting them with a ten pound stone at more than thirty miles an hour." I'd checked. I could chuck rocks fast. Broken bones and ruptured organs, fast.
"You mean the collapsible ones, or the rigid tactical ones?"
"Yeeeess?" I couldn't help the shy smile that crept onto my face as I made the joke.
Dad chuckled, and told me to wait a sec. He dug out his cell phone and spent the next three minutes pecking out a text on it. After it was sent, he said "Pretty sure Carrow does weapons, too. I asked him to bring some things for today."
Well... that was easy. I sat myself down in a chair by his desk as he started on some paperwork. It wasn't long until I started fidgeting, nor until he noticed. "What's wrong?"
I sighed and kicked off my shoes. It helped a little, but with the carpet covering the whole administrative building's floors, my senses didn't propagate very far. "I just, it's getting harder to wear shoes everywhere. I just feel so blind without being able to see half a dozen blocks in every direction like I was standing there." His eyes were very wide now. Hadn't I told him how far my footsenses could see? I could pick out a tiny bit of general information from across the city if I sat down and concentrated on it. ...maybe he didn't need to know that much. "Just getting frustrating."
"Sounds like it." He muttered, and got back to work, slower this time. He didn't tell me to put my shoes back on.
---
I hadn't bothered putting my shoes back on to start training. I figured I could start pulling double-duty on martial arts and my senses. When Jake showed up carrying a duffel bag, he seemed like a genuinely happy, upbeat person to my senses. No more stress than you'd expect in Brockton, seemed honestly enthused about training, had a spring in his step that made him seem excited. Maybe he didn't get to show off weapons skills very often?
All that before he'd set the bag down and started talking.
"Alright, I've got some eskrima sticks, some short staves, tonfa, and pads in here." He dug into it for a second before he tossed a small black rod at me. "That's a collapsible baton. I have a couple, keep losing and finding the damn things, you can have that one." He was lying. Much too orderly to lose his gear, but he did have more than just this one, so he was fine parting with it. He showed me how to flick it open and close it, then told me to stick it in my pocket and forget about it for today. "Now to start off, these are tonfa." He held up a pair of wooden batons with a handled rod sticking out about a third of the way down the length. "They're what you might think of when someone says 'police baton' which is what Danny asked me about, but usually they're used more by SWAT than regular cops these days." He started swinging his arms, flipping the batons about as he moved. "They're actually pretty complicated to use well, at least against trained fighters." His motions got more complicated, sweeping strikes, quick jabs, distracting windmill feints, "so we're not going to be getting too into them today."
"We're not?" I asked.
"Haha, no." Jake smiled. It was the sort of smile that hinted at impending schadenfreude, in other words not entirely nice. "Today you're learning how to not hit yourself with these, then moving on to normal baton work. Tomorrow we'll start on how to actually use them."
That... seemed fair.
He tossed them back into the bag and grabbed out a couple foot long and 20-inch wooden rods, and a padded mitt. "Now, punching with something in your hand is a lot different than a normal fist. It'll throw you off if you're not ready for it." He tossed me one of the short rods and put the mitt on. "Now, start off light and move towards full strength punches, just to get a feel for it." He patted his mitt, and I had a startled thought that he had no idea how strong I actually was.
---
Dad got home before I did, and was already in bed. I'd stayed there practicing with Jake until it got dark, instead of heading to the boardwalk. This training was going to save someone's life someday- probably mine- and I had to take it seriously.
I found leftovers on the table, along with an old and dented but serviceable metal canteen about eight inches across, along with a purple travel thermos with green leaf designs on it that used to be mom's. I guess it counted, it had an adjustable strap to it that you could lash around your waist like a belt, or hold the thing via a shoulder like a purse. I vaguely remembered her using it when we'd go hiking or camping, before she got busy with the university and I started going to summer camp instead.
I sniffled away the tears, and decided to just keep the metal one in my backpack for now. My feet were sore from all the walking on rough concrete today, so I decided to soak them a bit and head to bed.
---
TUE FEB 1
School was fine. I caught Amy in the halls and asked if she wanted to eat lunch together, but she'd said she couldn't get away today. I imagine she meant her sister and her group, which still didn't sound appealing, and it must have shown on my face, since she laughed at me.
I wound up floating around the cafeteria instead, finally settling down at a mostly empty table with other quiet people. Vicky looked like she wanted to come over and talk, but Amy poked her in the side and said something that caused her to pout. The two of them wound up at the center of a gaggle of other teens, Vicky usually loudly chatting with or being loudly chatted at by the other girls one at a time. Amy looked almost miserable, sitting there on her phone stealing glances at her sister, occasionally speaking up apparently to chastise her sister for her aura if the wince was anything to go by, or quietly addressed by one of the other hangers-around and forced to interact with people.
It was exhausting just watching all that going on, let alone being in the middle of it. I couldn't help but feel a bit bad for leaving Amy to her fate, but I didn't think I'd actually help her by being there.
After class let out, I got a text from Vicky.
'Shp tmrw? Y, m, Amy?'
I stopped to think about that. If it was just the three of us, it'd be fine. And Amy would be there in case Vicky's aura acted up... yeah. I could do this. I replied with 'Sure, when/where?' and got told to just meet them out front after school. I went out the front this time, and waved to Vicky and Amy when I saw them leaving, too. Easing a little harder into this 'friends' thing wouldn't be too bad.
---
We practiced with the sticks until Jake was sure I hadn't forgotten any of my lessons from yesterday, then moved on to the tonfas. He said that if I'd gotten good enough, he'd let dad buy a set off him for cheap. I hadn't figured out why that pinged as a lie to my senses until I caught him watching me train with a small smile via my senses. He was proud. He'd probably just give dad the damn things if asked. He had at least the two sets, maybe more.
I told him I'd be missing tomorrow because socializing, and he jeered about me having a date. I told him I was meeting a couple girls from school, and he just mocked me for being shy about dating girls. I smacked him a couple times while he laughed. I'm sure my blush didn't help any.
We trained into the night again, and I couldn't help but wonder what kind of schedule he had, that he could do that. I texted dad on the way home, and he replied that he'd be in bed by the time I got back, again. I found more leftovers on the table, but that was it today.
---
WED FEB 2
Today was the day. Today I would be social. Today I would-
I dropped to the ground as a bullet ricocheted somewhere nearby.
With my hands on the ground, I could see them. Two groups of men with guns shooting at each other from across the road in one of the run-down neighborhoods I ran through on my way to school. They were about four blocks away, if I'd kept going I would've passed within a street of them. Now that I was listening instead of working up my social anxiety, I could hear the pops from the guns.
This was stupid and dangerous. Who shoots things in a residential area?
I had to stop them.
...how do I do that?
I took stock of my gear. I had my bag with all my books and clothes for the day (I was going to shower and change at school) and the canteen of water. I had my pepper spray and baton. I did not feel ready for a gunfight.
I stopped to breathe and think. If I didn't want to fight, what were my options.
Well, why fight at all?
Rather, why let it be a fight at all?
I slapped the ground with one hand, and then punched it.
One of the groups was dragged into the pit of loose dirt that'd formed under their feet, along with the grass and concrete they'd been standing on.
I repeated the action with my other hand, and the other group was similarly trapped.
That... was easy. I pushed myself off the ground from my position resting both fists on the road, and listened for more shots.
Nothing.
I shrugged and started walking towards school again, digging out my phone and dialing 911 as I went. "Hello? There was some shooting near 14th and Stewart. I kept running by after I heard it, but I think it's stopped now..."
---
School was fine. The boys were starting to stop bothering me in the halls. I think they were finally figuring out I wasn't actually easy, a buyer, or a prostitute, so they could stop trying to get me to do something they wanted.
Lunch was also fine. I waved to Amy and Vicky on my way outside, and ate out by the trees with my shoes off again.
When school let out, I took a few fortifying breaths and made my way to the school's main entrance. There I found Vicky, somewhat more subdued than usual, and Amy. If I had to guess, she'd just poked her sister about her aura again.
"Hey, Taylor!" The sunny girl beamed.
"Hi, Vicky." I was already starting to feel tired of socializing. "Where are we going, and how are we getting there?"
"Oh!" Vicky clapped her hands excitedly. "I borrowed dad's car this morning. We're driving down to the boardwalk, is that okay?"
I nodded. "Should be, but the boardwalk's a little expensive for me." I blushed a little. "I... might not be getting much, if we're clothes shopping."
Vicky took a second to react. "Oh, pff," She made an exaggerated motion to go with her overacted scoff. "We're just window shopping, trying things on. Can always find deals at other stores when we know what we're looking for."
I'm fairly certain she was lying, and already started looking for excuses to take my shoes off when we got going. Their car was nice enough, nicer than dad's truck at least, but it wasn't new. It had a few dings, the inside was scuffed, it had a couple cans in the legroom in back, and I could spy a few partially-hidden fast food wrappers that hadn't been thrown out yet. It was just a car. I had no idea why that felt so surprising.
Vicky did her best to fill the silence. When I told her I hadn't really seen any new movies the past few years, and wasn't much of a music person, she started nattering on about her boyfriend Dean taking her to a local band night at some club last week. Amy mostly grumped in the passenger seat, busily working her phone. I was starting to recognize some of her tells, and she seemed grumpier than usual, though I couldn't figure out why.
We got out at a parking center, leaving our bags in the car, and walked the last two blocks to the boardwalk proper. I spied a couple of the suited enforcers milling about, and another standing and watching the crowd. Part of why I tended not to come here, compared to all the reasonably wealthy types that frequented these stores, I almost looked like a Merchant in my baggy, worn, and often stained normal clothing choices.
I made a mental note to do laundry. I was running low on nicer-looking things to wear to Arcadia.
Vicky almost squealed as she started dragging us into a store. It was bright and colorful, full of girly, thin clothing that didn't look like it'd survive a month of decent washing. I shook my head, getting things dumped on me and needing to ignore washing instructions to get crap out should be a thing of the past. Still felt like spending more than fifty bucks for a sewn-together box of tissues, though.
"C'mon, c'mon!" Vicky cheered, pawing at my hoodie. "Take that off, we need to get a good look at your sizes."
My eyes rolled, but I did as commanded, reaching down and pulling my hoodie up by the hem, almost taking my shirt with it over my head. I tossed it to Amy, righted my skewn glasses, and ruffled down my shirt- a dark blue small men's t-shirt I'd bought in a bulk pack because girl shirts cost five times as much. Not like I had any boobs to make the chest tight, anyway. It was a little baggy, and slightly short- it almost didn't reach my pants anymore, and every time I'd move my arms the hem would tug up and show a bit of skin at the waist. The only reason I was wearing it now was because it actually looked clean when it was, which was... basically the criterion for all of my Arcadia clothes.
Amy was trying not to smirk, and Vicky's lips were pursed as if I'd somehow insulted her. She drew a short breath. "Girl," She leaned in and whispered the rest. "how do you feel about ruffles?"
I stopped myself before I could ask why greasy potato chips were relevant. Ohhh no. She meant clothes. Mom'd had exactly three shirts with ruffles, for those days she was feeling especially girly. Dad and I'd take turns making fun of her for trying to look my age, him mostly because I was doing it and it was something to bond over, and me because I was a shitty ten-year-old brat. The thing was, she could pull it off. She had soft, well-proportioned curves that lent themselves to girlier blouses that had them.
By contrast, I was a stick. My chest and hips were wider than my waist sure, but I wouldn't have considered that true before I started working off the small gut I'd been building up through high school. Now my stomach was almost flat, and I had a sad facsimile of curves. I was boyish and plain, aside from my hair.
If there was one thing I had to make sure of this trip, there would be absolutely no ruffles.
Vicky was starting to look worried, and I realized I'd been standing there looking somewhat distraught for almost half a minute.
"No ruffles." I almost snapped. She looked like she wanted to argue. "No. I'm a gangly beanpole. Trying to put me in anything especially girly will just result in me looking like I'm trying to be five again." ...I miss mom. "No ruffles!" I pointed at her to accentuate my declaration.
"Aww," She whined. "but you'd look so cute in ruffles..."
Maybe I was wrong. Vicky was the one with the fashion knowledge here. She was intelligent, and knew her stuff. Maybe if they weren't in bright colors...
"Vicky, aura." Amy growled.
My thoughts snapped back to how they'd been before, the emotional whiplash almost painful. What the hell? I was angry. So very angry. She was messing with my head. Taking all the me, one of the few things I had left that I liked, and twisting it just enough that it's not mine anymore.
She started muttering out an apology before she caught the look of utter rage and disgust on my face and flinched back. I huffed in a few increasingly deep breaths, and said "I need a break."
So I left. I heard Vicky call out, but that just made me speed up. I was just... done. I needed a break. I needed to leave, but leaving would mean I gave up on being social, and that would be letting them win-
I stopped. This was about Emma again. It always came back to that fucking bitch Emma. Beating me down, betraying my secrets, getting other people to beat me down and manipulate me when it stopped working for her, continuing to beat me down as a punishment for not letting them trick me anymore...
My problem with Vicky was my problem with Emma. I started walking again, and kept going until I found a bench to sit down at. I just needed to calm down. Calm and centered. I kicked my shoes off, and let my steadily callusing feet touch the concrete. Now I could watch everyone, know that I was safe, and let my mind drift enough for the anger to flow away.
Deep breaths. Meditate. Let it go.
I wasn't sure how long it was, until someone came up to me. Sure, other people had come near and gone around, or stopped to look at the odd girl sitting on a bench with her eyes closed and hands laced together in her lap, but no one had actually come straight at me in my time sitting there.
With a sigh, I opened my eyes to find exactly what I expected. Amy, my hoodie tied around her waist like a sash, followed by a floating Victoria. The usually gloomy girl waved off her unusually glum sister, who stopped floating closer about five meters away.
She seemed to be at a loss for words when she stopped in front of me, so I patted the bench, and she sat down next to me. I didn't turn to look at her. I kept my eyes panning around the crowd, looking at people, at things, anything to keep Victoria in sight without looking right at her. "I'm sorry." Amy said at last. "There's two kinds of people who react to Vicky's aura. Unless she doesn't like you, everyone adores her when it's on. Some don't really stop liking her when they leave, even if they aren't compelled to anymore. They liked liking her, so they don't stop. Then there's people like you, who don't take having their emotions picked for them very well. They tend to hate her." I just sat, listening, faking serenity as hard as I could. She tried to speak and choked on her words a few times. I could see her in my earth senses; the little clenches of the jaw, half-started swallows, flutters of the eyes and eyelids as she thought. Her twitching tongue was fascinating.
I got so much information when I was focusing on something right next to me, it was hard to believe I could handle it all.
Amy was worried. Not in the normal way of someone confronting something unpleasant or an upcoming fight, and it didn't quite seem like fear of personal failure or under-performance... she was worried about something outside her control. And she was still trying to talk to me, after I'd ran out on them. Did... she still want to be my friend?
"You don't... have to be my friend if you don't want to." Amy said. "I'll understand."
She really wouldn't. She was desperate. How many friendships had she lost? How many times had her hopes been crushed? It reminded me of myself.
I sighed. I'd never be like Emma. Not even a little bit.
"I wouldn't still be here if I didn't want to be your friend. I could have run home, or gone to catch a bus." I waved my hand over to a relatively nearby bus stop. "But I didn't." This time when my eyes panned over, I met Vicky's eyes. She looked so wary and confused, fussing with her hands in front of her chest- the only things she had that would stand up to her strength, I imagined. I waved her over. She waited for a second, then started floating towards us.
Deep breaths. Her aura was off, at least as far as I could tell. People were staring, but confused. There was none of the awe I'd seen in the cafeteria at school, and none of the fear I'd read about online. I figured as long as I was aware enough to keep looking for the signs, I'd be fine.
Now I just needed to figure out what to say. "I'm sorry." I started, causing her and Amy to blink. "I might be... overreacting. I just..." Suck in air, hold it, hold it, release. "I don't like being manipulated." Pause for a beat. "Even if you didn't mean to, I felt so..." Words are hard. "used, after." For the first time since they got here, I dropped my eyes away from Vicky. I could still see with my feet- everything but her. Amy was giving me a sad, slightly pitying look though, and I could imagine something else on Victoria's face.
Then her feet touched the ground, and I could see that she was crying. "I'm sorry." She walked over, her hands leading towards me, and she stopped hesitantly. I raised my head, gave her a 'yeah, sure' head wobble, and found myself in the center-ish of a lopsided Dallon sandwich. Apparently Victoria felt Amy needed to be a part of this hug, too.
After we introverts finished our subdued hissing and spitting over being shoved into physical contact with other human beings, the hug settled into something vaguely approaching nice. If I were into girls, it'd be very nice. The two were soft and warm and- that's enough of that, thank you. I'm pretty sure I hid my small blush well enough. Still, it was Amy who started tugging away first, pulling away from myself and her sister, leaving the two of us in a bit of an awkward side-hug for a bit before Vicky giggled and floated away. She was just so bright and amazing and Amy cleared her throat meaningfully and the feeling vanished.
"Sorry! Sorry." Vicky was still smiling a little, but trying to force out some seriousness for the topic at hand. She must really be a physical person. I shoved down the envy creeping up in my mind. "I really am sorry, I don't mean to bring up bad feelings or bad memories," Her voice lowered a bit and she leaned closer. "I don't want to hurt or manipulate anyone. It just gets hard to control, sometimes."
I really couldn't relate. None of my powers were hard to control at all, once I'd gotten the hang of them. I couldn't relay this to them, either. I wanted to trust them, but I wasn't there yet. Still... "I'm, open to hanging out again with a little warning, after I've had a break to cool down some." I stood up, almost at height with Vicky floating a few inches off the ground. "I really want to like you..."
Her smile grew strained. "Yeah... I get it."
Nodding, I added, "I just need time to get used to power things, I guess."
Her nod was a little stronger than her smile had been. "Hey, how about we get some food, then we'll call it for today, that sound good?"
I weighted in it my mind for a moment and nodded. "That sounds fine." I sat down again to put my shoes back on.
"Why were your shoes off, anyway?" Vicky asked.
I paused, shrugged, and replied, "I just feel better with my shoes off, sometimes."
Vicky laughed and agreed, and led us off to the food places after I was ready to go.
---
We wound up getting wraps, and chatting about classes until we finished. I waved off their offer of a ride, and said I'd just take the bus home after a walk by the beach.
And that's exactly what I did. I took my shoes off again while I walked along the sand of the nicer beach by the boardwalk, the sand shifting around me slightly, churning a bit beneath the dunes, and hardening a bit under my feet to make walking through it less tiring. I spent almost an hour walking all the way into the less nice part of the beach by the old docks. There was trash here, wrappers and plastics, the odd bit of glass or the occasional needle, my senses through the sand were just good enough to warn me away from stepping on anything.
I came upon a rock, eventually. A small nub covered in graffiti sticking up out of the sands, but stepping up onto it, I saw that it extended down a ways, touching a few other rocks, which were touching more rocks, eventually spreading down into the ground around the city. My senses spread down through the tangled solid foam of caverns that made up the city's aquifer, and up away from them to the city itself. That was what I was after. Concentrating, I couldn't find anyone nearby, at least no one in a position to see me, so I started up the second half of my trip.
Walking down to the water, I couldn't help one last nervous glance around before I reached out and grabbed the waves, halting them. I strode up, pushing the water away from me while hardening the sand beneath my feet to keep from sinking. I pushed farther and farther in until I was almost eye-level with the water around me, standing on the sand in my own cylinder of air. Then I leaned down, and let the ocean fill in above me. I continued on a little ways farther, my hands swirling around me as I kept the water at bay, but it was getting harder. I wasn't quite ready for a casual ocean jaunt yet, but that wasn't the plan.
In seconds, the water around me started to freeze.
It took a few tries, unfreezing and re-freezing, but eventually I had a semi-sphere of ice clear enough I could roughly see through. Holding the water away from my improvised diving bell while holding it down to keep it from shooting to the surface was slightly easier than just bending the water away was. Sure, I'd be in a worse position if ambushed, but what were the odds of that? I was in the ocean. All the gangs were on land.
I started walking again, keeping an 'eye' out for trash under my feet, while looking through the hazy glass into the gloom of the bay. It was eerie and quiet and amazing.
---
Hours later, I made my way home. Dad broke his pattern and waited up for me, tonight.
"Bit of a surprise," He said, leading me to the kitchen where he had a couple boxes set on the table. "I thought about what you said, and your earth sense stuff is just too important to ignore." He gave me a look. "It's the sort of thing that'll keep you safe." He turned back to the boxes and opened them, revealing some worn out shoes. "So I made these, with a little help."
I took one, and was surprised when my fingers slipped under where the sole was supposed to be. I lifted it up, and while it looked mostly normal from the top and sides, the bottom had been carved out, with a couple elastic fabric bands like on underwear stretched somewhat tightly across the bare bottom, sewn and glued into the sides and top of the shoe's insides. I looked at dad, confused, and he just smiled and motioned for me to try them on.
The size was about right, if a little odd with a third-inch of material missing from the bottom of it. Still, they seemed functional as fake-shoes, looking almost right if you didn't know what to look for, and best of all- the straps barely hindered my senses at all. Sure, they probably needed some more padding glued in, the shoes were a little tall now, and the glue partly holding the straps in was starting to scratch, but otherwise?
"They're amazing!" I hugged dad. "Thank you, thank you." We hugged for a bit, then parted. "How did you make these?"
He smiled. "Well, I bought a few pairs of shoes in your size from the used bargain bins- already had worn out soles, so they were fine." At my scowling, he chuckled. "I sprayed them down with disinfectant, don't worry. Anyway, I got some help with sewing from Lacey and a couple others with some skill there, just a crash course in how to patch-sew a bit without poking through to the 'pretty' side too much. Didn't show them the actual project, though they know it was something for you." He grimaced a little. "Stiiill not sure I did it right, hence the glue to be sure. They won't last near as long as regular shoes, but they don't have to. All told, they're still cheaper than new shoes per pair by a bit."
I nodded. "We can always tweak the designs to make them better over time. Thanks again, dad."
"Anything to help, honey."
---
THU FEB 3
Today I decided to fill mom's travel thermos with tea, and lash the strap over my shoulder and under the backpack's straps while jogging to school. The old canteen I'd taken yesterday was sitting at home. Partly this was because I wanted to use mom's things more often, partly because I was trying to trust Arcadia to be less of a Winslow and giving them this one chance, but mostly it was just the thought of taking tea breaks on the multi-mile jog being nice. Plus, if anyone found out I was a cape, they might think me limited to only bending pure water for some crazy power bullshit reason.
I made it to school fine and refilled the thermos with water when I got to the showers. Classes were okay, and Amy sat with me for lunch. I was in the cafeteria today. The shoes I had made me feel a lot more comfortable around crowds.
Amy and I mostly chatted about classes and little, inconsequential things like complaining about teachers and assignments. I got the feeling she was glad I still wanted to spend time with her after yesterday. She got silent for a bit, and I waited for whatever it was she had to say.
"I'm going to the bookstore tomorrow. No Vicky. Did you want to go?"
I thought about it and asked "No Vicky?" curiously.
She smirked. "Last time she followed me into a bookstore, I started picking raunchy novels off the shelves and reading them aloud until she ran away."
I grinned wickedly. "So you just happened to be near the raunchy books?"
She blushed and scrunched her face into an adorable pout. "Well I'm certainly not living vicariously through my sister."
Amy was really not happy with that thought, according to my feet. "What's so bad about that?" She gave me a scathing look. "Only child, I don't really get it." I explained.
"It's kinda' squicky." She huffed. "Also, her boyfriend is..." She snapped her mouth closed, like she hadn't intended to keep talking. She sighed and continued, though. "He's a nice enough guy, I just... don't like him?" The lilt of her voice made it sound like a question, and I wasn't sure she noticed. Her feelings were pretty muddled from what I could see, but she honestly felt grossed out by the whole thing... A thought occurred.
"Is it boys?" I'd leaned in and lowered my voice, but Amy still froze and glanced around. No one was in easy listening range for the volume I'd used, my feet were sure of it. "It's okay if it is."
She sighed, debated internally for a bit, then nodded. "Boys are gross." She muttered. "And I've seen what pregnancy looks like from the inside." She gave a morbid chuckle. "No, thank you." My senses weren't sure it was the whole truth, but it was far less muddled than what she'd said before.
"Okay, now I'm really curious."
Amy rolled her eyes. "Pregnancy is terrible. It's like the body primes itself to intentionally let a parasite latch on inside you, grow a big fluid abscess house for itself, and leech your body's resources for most of a year while it rearranges your organs to fit." She leans in conspiratorially. "And then you have to shit it out your sex hole."
Yeah no, that sounded pretty gross, and by the look on her face, she was greatly amused by my grossed out expression.
She kept grinning and added, "There is not enough nope in the world to express my feelings on the subject."
Well, I was done with lunch now. "Thanks so much for that. I'll meet you after school tomorrow?"
Bitch was cackling at me as I left.
---
After school, I stopped by to talk to Vicky and Amy on their way out, mostly to make sure Vicky knew there weren't any hard feelings, but that I wasn't sure what next week looked like yet. That, and weekends were for sleeping in and working out. This seemed to amuse the two, and they flew off towards the hospital in good spirits.
I went to the DWA after that, Jake and I wanted to work on incorporating the weapon fighting into my existing styles, rather than have me trying to switch forms inefficiently. This actually worked a lot better than expected, and five hours later I was proclaimed at the level of 'no longer hitting myself', or sufficient to have a pair of sturdy wooden training tonfas bestowed upon me. I was told to take good care of 'Smacky' and 'Thwacky', and now the names were stuck in my head forever.
When I told him I was busy tomorrow, he poked fun at me for having 'another date with my girlfriend' but admitted to also being busy, probably through the weekend. He seemed a little nervous, but I figured he probably had a match out of town coming up or something.
I spent the rest of the night, probably more than I should have, exploring the edges of the boat graveyard from underwater. I'd had the thought while I was there to use some of the spaces in the ships as hidey holes or maybe even a secret base, but I had no idea how I was going to keep the spaces water-tight, even if I got the water out of them. Thoughts for the future.