Wow! I actually got reviews - I figured since it wasn’t Kurtty I wouldn’t get anything, YAY!!! Well, onto the elusive chapter 2, hope you like it!!! (Is Bayville in Maine?? I was too lazy to really check so if it’s not please don’t flame me)
OUTFOXED
Chapter 2: Trigonometry and The Rest of Life’s Mysteries Solved
Scott arrived at his trig room to find the door locked. A note, written in scrawled hasty cursive, was posted on the door.
“Mr. Harrison’s second period grade 12 advanced trigonometry class has been moved to study hall, please report there for attendance and further instructions,” read Jean, walking up beside him, “I guess he’s away again.” She shrugged and readjusted her backpack on her shoulder.
Scott smiled, watching the light shimmer on her thick red hair as she subconsciously brushed a strand off her forehead. Scott’s smile disappeared into his customary tightlipped seriousness as she waved to Duncan. God, he hated Duncan. It wasn’t that the girls didn’t like Scott, but Matthews got them all. And then there was the sports . . . Scott loved to play sports, and he was damn good at them. Football, baseball, you name it - he was better than Duncan was, better than Duncan even dreamed he was, but Scott couldn’t play. It was just too risky. If his sunglasses fell off . . .
Duncan smiled, but he didn’t return Jean’s wave. It was nearly impossible, Scott noticed, because he was carrying two backpacks. A rather harried looking girl trailed behind him, an annoyed look on her face.
And what a pretty face it was. Scott had never seen this girl before, he would’ve remembered it. Her eyes were large and expressive, the sparkling green of emeralds, and her hair moved effortlessly as she walked, as though by some invisible breeze, a deep copper brown. Her cheeks were the softness and color of late-summer roses, and her complexion was olive, like she had spent hours tanning in the sun. “Zere, zis iz my room, can I pleaze ‘ave my bag now?” Her voice was low and soft, with a hint of an accent.
“Yeah sure, Angeline,” his voice was dropped, he leaned in closer to her, “There you go. You know, if you’d like to go out after school . . . I could buy you a soda, show you around town, whatever.” He sounded confident. This was how it always happened, as soon as Duncan discovered a pretty girl, he asked her out (and of course she said yes because, after all, he was the most popular guy at Bayville high ), they’d date for a hot passionate week, and then she’d be placed on a list with a hundred other of Duncan’s ex-es, never to be called again. One of Duncan’s last girlfriend’s, Janine, a feisty freshman, was so upset by this sudden rejection that she and her friends had let the air out of Duncan’s tires. That was a good day.
“I’m sure I’ll find my way around by myself. Pleaze, I am not interested in you, leave me alone.” She looked at him right in the eye, speaking slowly. Scott got the impression this was not the first time she had tried to explain this concept to Duncan.
Duncan smiled at her, “Playing hard to get, huh? You’ll see things my way soon. No one can resist Duncan Matthews’ charms. Well, I’ll see you around.” He waved and walked down the hall toward his next class. Jean walked with him, study hall was in the same direction, and Scott scowled, though he didn’t totally mind being left with the new girl. She slapped her forehead.
“What I can’t resist iz ze urge to vomit.” Scott couldn’t help laughing. “He just doesn’t get zat I don’t like him. Iz that boy a little um . . . well, a few brickz short of a load, a few sandwichez short of a picnic, a few memberz short of a band . . . ? ” She paused and Scott saw an opportunity.
“The cheese has slipped off the cracker, the lights are on but no one’s home, the phone’s ringing but nobody’s picking up?” he offered. She broke into a beautiful smile.
“Exactly, by the way, my name’s Angeline,“ she said laughing, “I swear ‘e was staring at me all first period. And zen ‘e stole my book bag,” she cried helplessly, throwing her hands into the air in exasperation. “Stupid American boyz.”
“Hey,” said Scott, teasingly, “I’m an American boy! My friends call me Scott.” He usually wasn’t this open, even around his friends, but there was something about this girl. They started to walk down the hall to the lecture hall. “So where are you from? It’s not from around here, that’s for sure.”
Scott had spent his entire life with the professor at the institute. He was Xavier’s first student, the original X-man, which meant the only world he had ever experienced was the safe little bubble of Bayville, Maine. Though he never told anyone, a small part of him longed to leave the x-men and travel Europe. They entered the Study Hall and sat beside each other. The supervising teacher was handing out sheets on the cosine law that Mr. Harrison had left them.
“Ze accent gives it away, doezn’t it? I was born in France, raised in Brazil from ze time I was about 5 days old until a couple of years ago, and since zen I ‘ave been traveling ze world, bouncing from country to country. Overall, it has not been too bad of a life. You?”
“Bred, born and raised in Bayville.” He said smiling, “So, why’d you move to here of all places?”
Angeline looked at him strangely, “Um . . . no real reason.” She looked uncomfortable, like she was hiding something. Scott decided not to push the issue any further.
“Cool. So, do you like Trigonometry?”
She nodded her agreement, “Yes, I usually do well in mathematics and science. Itz one of my strong points, especially trig.”
Scott looked at the sheet full of perplexing numbers, concepts, and diagrams. “Do you wanna help me with it?”
“I’d love to.” She sat close to him, so close he could feel her breath on his cheek, and explained the homework assignment. For the first time in his life Scott actually 100% understood what he was doing.
As they sat together, punching numbers into their calculators in the silence of the hall, Scott felt this sort of spark between them. Like a pulse of electricity bonding their mutual attraction. It was probably just him, why would a girl like that ever go for someone like him?
A piece of paper bounced off the back of his head and Scott instantly looked up, in the direction it was thrown from. A table away sat Evan and Kurt, they had European History this period and their teacher was obviously away too. They were snickering and waving at Scott, motioning to him to open up the paper. In the top left-hand corner, the words “Who’s the fraulein?” were written in Kurt’s sloppy printing.
Scott did some quick German translating, Kurt had been trying to teach him, and one word he did actually know was fraulein, it meant young girl. Checking to see that Angeline was still focused on her work, he quickly scribbled, “New kid. Her name’s Angeline.” And tossed it back.
Seconds later the paper flew back. Two styles of writing graced the response, Kurt’s sloppily done printing and Evan’s wide, sprawly cursive.
E: “Man she’s hot!”
K: “Do you want to give her my number?”
E: “Or has the Summer’s charm already stolen her from the single life?”
K: “Why do you get all the good girls, Scott? First there’s Jean.”
E: “And Rogue.”
K: “Ew, she’s my half-sister! Why don’t you take Kitty? She likes you.”
E: “Yeah!”
By now they could hardly control their laughter, Scott felt like getting up from the table and smacking them. He got out his pen and wrote in capitals ‘Why don’t you come over here and say that?’ And tossed the paper back.
As though on cue after reading the paper, they both got up, tucked in their chairs and approached the table at the exact same time. Kurt sat beside Scott and Evan took the empty seat beside the girl. He cleared his throat and Angeline looked up.
“Hi, I’m Evan. . .”
“And I’m Kurt,”
“We’re friends of Scott’s, ”
“Close friends,”
“Right. And we noticed you here with him . . .”
“And Evan said to me, Why don’t we go make that girl feel welcome? . . . ”
“And Kurt told me he thought that was an excellent idea . . . ”
“And so we came over here to extend our warmest welcome . . . ”
“From Bayville High . . .” Finished Evan, laughing with his eyes. Kurt shared his amusement, and so, obviously, did Angeline.
She laughed bemusedly, “ ‘ello, my name iz Angeline, itz nice to meet you. I can see you share your friend’z sense of ‘umor.”
Evan almost choked, “Scott’s . . . sense of humor?” Scott glared at him, “Oh . . . right. Yep, Scott’s a funny man.”
“Hilarious. You just can’t stop Scott from telling jokes,” chipped in Kurt, looking at Scott with astonishment.
“A regular Seinfeld.”
“Qui?” she asked.
“Huh?” replied Evan.
“It means who in French,” said Kurt rather exasperatedly. He turned to Angeline, “Seinfeld is an American comedian.”
“Tu parles Francais?”
“Yeah, I speak a little French. I’m fluent in German though.”
“Wie geht's?”
“I’m pretty good, how about you?”
“Can’t complain,” she said laughing. “It’z great to meet someone who’s multilingual, too.”
The bell rang signaling the end of second period and, to everyone’s relief, lunch hour. Angeline gathered up her books and stuffed them in her bag. She got up and left quickly, calling behind her, “It waz nice to meet you all, adieu.”
Further down the hall, in locker 212, Pietro Maximoff was spinning his combination rapidly . . .
To be continued . . .
WOW!! Did you see the craptacularness of that? At least I’ve found a pattern, it’ll probably go X-men, Brotherhood, X-men, Brotherhood, etc. No guarantees though, it kind of depends on what point of view I feel like writing from. The next chapter’s are going to be Pietro, Kurt, Lance, and Scott (again . . . I think). There will actually be a plot introduced soon, I promise, by fourth period. Then we’ll skip to the next week. By the way, I'm not writing Kurt's accent, it's too hard when you're reading a fic to figure it out. And you've got Angeline's to contend with. FINALLY: If you’re reading and not reviewing SHAME ON YOU!!!!! Bye 4 now! Chp 3