This chapter is focused on Kurt, and I have been informed that Pietro is actually the Italian form of Peter. Thank you everyone for setting me straight, I have a tendency to not actually check details. You can blame my Spanish teacher, she made us all pick Spanish names and Pietro was on the list for the guys, I get to be Maria, and in french class I’m Babette! And you really don’t care . . . well, onto chapter four! (Oh yeah, the song is Counting Crows, Long December, but it’s technically not supposed to be by them in this fic and has some significance in later chapters, it’ll make more sense later, trust me.)
OUTFOXED
Chapter Four: The Elements
Kurt Wagner grabbed a bowl of chili, one of the few things actually edible in the cafeteria, which for him was surprising considering yesterday he had eaten a fuzzy peach that he’d found between the sofa cushions, explaining to Kitty that the lint added nutrition. Okay, so it was basically his motive to gross Kitty out (which he had successfully done), but it actually wasn’t that bad.
In front of him stood the girl they had just talked to in study hall, Angeline. She was singing a song quietly to herself, he could barely hear it, and yet it sounded very familiar.
I can’t remember the last thing that you said as you were leavin’
Now the days go by so fast
The smell of hospitals in winter
And the feeling that its all a lot of oysters but no pearls
And all at once you look across the crowded room
To see the way that light attaches to a girl . . .”
He couldn’t resist the urge to join in, his soft tenor voice blending in perfect harmony with her alto on the chorus.
And it’s one more day up in the canyons
And it’s one more night in Hollywood
If you think that I could be forgiven,
I wish you would ”
She turned and looked at him with shock and embarrassment. A broad grin spread across his face as their eyes connected.
“I didn’t realize anyone could ‘ear me. You sing very well.” she said, also grabbing a bowl of chili from the self serve “Soup du jour” pot.
“So do you.” he replied simply and truthfully. She returned his impish smile.
“Zere’s no need to lie. Flattery will get you nowhere wiz me.”
He grinned mock-suggestively, “And everywhere with me.” he said laughing.
She joined his laughter, “Really, I’ll ‘ave to remember zat.”
Without warning, Kurt felt a sharp push from behind, which sent him careening forward, lunch tray and all, into Angeline. He watched in horror as thick red chili dripped down the white cashmere sweater. He turned around to see who had pushed him and found himself face to face, or to be more exact, thick beefy neck to face with Duncan Matthews, who was smirking oddly.
And then Kurt was in the air, being lifted up by the front of his shirt and shoved into the wall by a powerful force by the name of Duncan, who looked at him and spoke, “Look what you did, freak, (oh, if only Matthews actually knew how true that was, he wouldn’t be bothering Kurt) I suppose you think it’s funny because she’s the new girl or something?”
“But you pushed me, man! ” Even two feet off the ground he wasn’t going to take this from Matthews.
“Likely story,” replied Duncan menacingly, “You’ll pay for this.” By now the cafeteria had gone silent, everyone was staring. Kurt was no idiot, he had figured out Duncan was probably doing this to not only get Angeline’s attention, but to make her think that he had upheld her honor or something. Somehow Kurt didn’t think anything Duncan did would make her like him, but why did /he/ have to get involved in this.
Duncan glanced over at the girl, who was obviously not impressed by this staged chivalry.
“First of all, even if ‘e did spill chili on me, it was just an accident, and you are completely overreacting. Now if ‘e had done this,” she took her bowl of chili and emptied the contents down the front of Duncan’s shirt, “I would be upset.” Duncan looked at her with utter shock and disbelief, “And secondly, you pushed ‘im. I saw you, so why don’t you just back off.”
She shoved Duncan hard, both of them covered in chili, making him release his hold on Kurt, who dropped to the floor. Duncan lunged at her, throwing his fist which Kurt heard crack hard against Angeline’s jaw. Kurt guessed he’d finally gotten fed up with being rejected so much, and he was sure having hot chili poured down his front didn’t help his mood, but to hit a girl . . .? Bottom lip split and bleeding, she moved with a speed that amazed Kurt and pinned Duncan against wall by his wrists. The only sound in the cafeteria was Angeline’s labored breaths and a crackling noise from overhead.
Duncan whimpered, almost crying, “Please . . . it burns . . .stop. . . please,” His voice was quiet, but full of urgency, Kurt doubted anyone but him could hear it.
Without warning, the light bulbs in the cafeteria burst in a shower of glass and electricity. The fountains, scattered around the room, shot out sprays of murky water and the fire sprinkler system went off, drenching the students with the muddy liquid. Over the screams of the soaking students, Kurt heard Duncan’s voice, now a high and piercing scream, “Please. . . let go . . . I’m sorry, please . . . it hurts . . . it burns so bad . . . please, stop. . . please . . .”
Kurt looked at the girl, who let go of Duncan and let him drop to the ground, curling himself in a fetal-like position, cradling his wrists in his lap. She looked around at the chaos and then joined the group of students who were filtering out the door. Leaving Duncan, Kurt tried to follow her. The flow of students was thick and the halls were crowded, he spotted her about twenty feet up ahead and wove his way to the toward her. A force pulled his backpack from behind.
He turned and found himself facing Evan, who looked relieved. “Are you okay, man? Scott’s calling an emergency meeting, we gotta go.”
A rather severe professor who taught Introductory Spanish came up behind them. Kurt jumped at his voice, “No, Mr. Daniels, you and your friend are going nowhere except the auditorium with the rest of the students, where you will stay until there are further instructions.”
Evan shrugged, “Alright sir,” he turned to Kurt after he had left, “Well, I guess the guys will all be there, too.” Kurt followed Evan through the crowded hallway to the gym, other things on his mind. His headache had returned from last night.
As they entered the gym, Scott beckoned to them from the back corner. Jean, Rogue, and Kitty were already there, Jean looked pale and tired. “What happened to her?” asked Evan, looking at Jean with concern, and sitting down.
“I tried to penetrate the new girl’s mind, a little less than successfully, might I add,” she replied with a weak smile.
“So we’re all thinking the same thing, right? That Angeline’s a mutant? And also probably part of the Brotherhood.” Scott asked them, everyone around Kurt nodded their agreement, he reclined further back on the wall. He didn’t really like this conversation, why couldn’t anyone ever come into their lives that wasn’t a mutant, that wasn’t their enemy? She had seemed so nice.
“She has to be, I mean, why else would she come to this school?” asked Evan rhetorically, “Her being part of the Brotherhood is not a good thing, she’s obviously really powerful. I’m actually kind of scared.”
Again, everyone but Kurt nodded in agreement. Kurt noticed Todd, Lance, and Pietro approaching their group. How could she be one of them? Lance leaned in close to Scott, a look of fear on his face. Fear? “Look, man. We don’t want any trouble from your new girl, Summers.”
“Our new girl? Isn’t Angeline part of the Brotherhood?”
“Nah. You mean she’s not an x-freak? You sure you ain’t bull-shitting us Summers?” Asked Todd, looking a slightly confused, like the rest of the Brotherhood and the X-men.
“I swear.”
Principal Darkholme entered the room, and the students grew hushed. “The problem caused in the cafeteria today was the result of a fuse blowing, which shorted out the lights and also the automatic fire-sprinklers trips, making them go off. The situation is now under control and thankfully there are no serious injuries to report. Unfortunately, Duncan Matthews, our quarterback, suffered second-degree burns on both of his wrists, likely caused by the electricity and water. Classes will continue on their normal schedule for the rest of the day and the cafeteria is closed until further notice,” she announced matter-of-factly. “There will be a ten minute break before class resumes.”
The brotherhood filtered out of the gymnasium with the rest of the students, but Kurt and his friends stayed behind. Kurt looked around at the group, “What if she’s not a mutant? I mean, what if it was just caused by the fuse?” He was the only one who knew the full truth behind Duncan’s burns but, somehow, he wanted it to stay that way. He didn’t want to believe she was a mutant. There was something so familiar about her, the way her hand had brushed against his in line, the spark of electricity between them, they way she stood up for him. It was like something long forgotten or repressed into the darkest pits of his mind.
“She’s got to be Kurt,” replied Jean, looking at him strangely. In fact, he was receiving strange looks from all his friends. “I would’ve been able to get into her mind if she wasn’t.”
“But you don’t know that for sure, you guys are always making assumptions!” His voice was taut with emotion. They all continued to stare, he knew he never usually burst out like this, but he couldn’t help it. It was like just by seeing this girl, something deep inside of him had been awakened. He couldn’t explain it but he felt it - a severed connection to an abandoned past rediscovered.
Scott looked at him reproachfully, “You’re right, Kurt,” he said, quietly, assuringly, yet somehow it felt like Scott was simply humoring him. “Why don’t we call the prof and see if Cerebro detected anything?” Scott took out the small, hand-held communicator. They all had one, it allowed them to communicate over short distances (2 miles max.) and was no larger than a ball point pen. As Scott turned it on, Kurt felt his own vibrate in his back pocket.
The professor’s voice, quiet and staticy, came through the tiny device. “Hello Scott, what seems to be the problem?”
“Hey professor! There’s no real problem, we were just wondering if Cerebro picked up any mutant signatures a little while ago.” As Scott asked the question, Kurt stared at the group angrily. Why did they have to pursue every damn thing that came there way? Why couldn’t they just leave this alone? Why did he care so much?
“Hold on, let me check,” replied the professor, worry and intrigue present in his voice. Kurt closed his eyes, he knew what Professor Xavier was going to say, that she was a mutant, but he didn’t want to hear it.
“Look, I’m outta here. When you guys are done accusing everyone you meet of being like . . . us,” he said ‘us’ with such contempt that the x-men, his best friends in Bayville, looked at him with hurt in their eyes, but he didn’t care, “I’m sure you’ll be able to find me.”
Kurt grabbed his backpack and stormed out of the gym, fuming. He pushed his way through the crowd of students and out the side door, the crisp winter’s air burning his lungs. He jammed his three fingered hands into his pockets and started walking, he still had 8 minutes before class began and he needed to clear his head. The frigid snow blew about his face. He should have brought his coat.
He walked around the large, old high school, taking the cold cleansing air in with deep breaths. The air helped him to forget, and it helped him to remember why he couldn’t forget. The others didn’t know what it was like to be him, they had no idea. But somehow he felt Angeline did. Like she too was hiding a secret like his, shared with no one. It hurt too much to share, even with his best friend, Evan. None of his friends would ever know what the “school” felt like, they couldn’t. He had been there, they hadn’t. Shivers went up his spine that were only partially caused by the cold. It was better keeping it inside, scars that were hidden hurt less than those in plain view.
As he walked past the staircase that lead to Forge’s lab, a place he made a habit of avoiding since his unfortunate trip to the middleverse, he noticed someone sitting on the bottom step, head in their hands. It was Angeline.
He sat down beside her, and for a second they looked at each other, neither saying a word, “Thanks,” he said, “You know, for what you did back there . . . I appreciate it.” Truthfully, it was a little demasculinating to have a girl fight for him but, after all, it was the twenty-first century, and she was a cute girl.
Her eyes were red, like she’d been crying, and her voice wavered as she spoke, though she tried to hide it, “No problem, I just can’t believe I lost my temper like zat.” She stared down at the ground, ashamed, “It waz weird what ‘appened with ze fuse today, no?”
So she didn’t want to tell him that she was a mutant, he could understand that. It wasn’t like he went around announcing to people he had just met that he had blue fur and a demonic tail, it just wasn’t something you discussed.
“Really weird,” he agreed, playing dumb, “So, how do you like Bayville?”
“To be quite honest,” she said, smiling, “I ‘aven’t really been anywhere but my apartment and ze school. Oh, and ze furniture store, zat was an exciting trip.” Her humor was dry, sarcastic. Kurt liked it.
“Well, at the risk of sounding like Duncan, do you want me to take you on a tour of the town?”
“Your accent iz far too cute to make you sound like ‘im, and yes, I’d love to. Do you want to come to my apartment after ze grand tour for dinner?”
Kurt felt his eyes widen, girls generally weren’t this forward with him. In fact, it was usually him who did all the flirting. Not that he really minded . . .
“Yeah sure, sounds good,” he was up for anything, once. The bell rang, signaling that class began in five minutes.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you after school then, she said, grabbing her fire red knapsack, “It’s locker 213,” she called turning the corner, “See you Kurt!”
She had actually remembered his name! Kurt felt like dancing for joy right there, in the stairwell, but he restrained himself, besides he had an English class to go to.
~*~*~*~*
Kurt set down his backpack with a heavy thump beside Evan and immediately preoccupied himself with unloading his books. Out of the corner of his eye, Kurt saw Evan cast him an uneasy glance. Kurt turned his stare to the frost covered window, it had started to snow. Thick wet flakes splattered against the white dusted window, echoing his mood toward his ex-friends. The bright whiteness of happiness splattering mercilessly on the window of these so-called friends. He took comfort in the fact that most of the flakes made it safely to the sanctuary of the ground, but some of their lives, some of the happiness, was never realized because of the windows of the world.
They were his friends! Just because they had accused a girl (a girl he had just met) of being a mutant (and all signs pointed to that fact), he had gone totally insane. What was his problem? It just felt so right with her, more right than anything he had felt for years. But it was still no reason for him to freak out on his friends.
He turned to Evan, “Look, I’m sorry for getting so upset at lunch . . .”
“Don’t be,” he interrupted, “I should be apologizing. You were right. I guess . . . I don’t know, I guess being around other mutants all the time has made us sort of suspicious, and you have to admit that what happened in the caf today was pretty strange, but you were right. Cerebro didn’t detect anything.”
“So you mean?”
“Yeah, she’s not a mutant.” (AN- DUN!!! DUN!!! DUN!!! *dramatic music* ahem sorry . . . back to the story)
“Wow.” He hadn’t expected that, “Ugh, you know, I’m not ready for this grammar test at all.” Kurt decided to change the subject, lighten the mood a little. Besides, griping about subordinating and co-ordinating clauses and phrases was basically a safe subject.
“Neither am I. But, hey, what are you gonna do?”
“Fail,” answered Kurt, laughing, “Hey, you know what is driving me insane? The name of this song I heard at lunch.” He sang a few bars of the song that Angeline was singing in the cafeteria line, “Any ideas?”
“Nope, I can safely say I have never heard that song in the course of my lifetime.”
“Oh well.”
~*~*~*~*~
“All at once you look across a crowded room
And see the way that light attaches to a girl . . .”
He hated it here. He was new at the school and already he was being punished because he couldn’t speak English or French, the two languages they taught in. On top of that, the other students kept looking at him, whispering and laughing. He couldn’t help that he was born in Germany and only spoke German, and he definitely couldn’t change the way he looked. He adjusted his hood to cover more of his face and moved slowly to the back of the room.
A man at the front, dressed in army fatigues, was barking orders at them. The students around him kept yelling “Sir, yes, sir!” or “Sir, no, sir!” and though Kurt didn’t have any idea what the man was saying, he joined in on the “Sir’s” so he wouldn’t be stricken again. The mark on his wrist drew a thin line of blood, darkening the blue fur it touched.
Kurt sighed miserably. He missed his home, he missed his parents. He knew they thought sending him here was for his own good, so he could develop his powers with other kids affected by the x-gene, but this school just didn’t feel . . . right. Like why did they have to shave off most of the hair on his head, for example, or take his fingerprints?
Apparently, the man had finished berating them for the day and the students were left alone in the gray, cold, lifeless room. Kurt felt the eyes of the other kids upon him. Most of the students were clustered at the front of the room, chattering and casting him cruel almost challenging looks. Only one girl stood apart form the group, like him, but Kurt got the impression that it was her own choice that she stood away, and that the other students respected her a great deal. He also figured that if she wanted to join them, they would let her in a second.
Instead, she walked over to where he was and stood beside him for a while, not talking. She stood staring far off, to a place that was well beyond the room, and he looked at her out of the corner of his eye. Without warning, she turned and lifted a delicate, pure-white hand toward his face and removed the hood, studying him. Finally, she spoke, “That’s better.” She smiled a little. “Is your wrist okay?” He understood her; her German was perfect, though it had a slight trace of a French accent, “May I have a look at it?”
He held the tender, bleeding wrist out toward the girl, he felt he could trust her. Her tail swished worriedly behind her as she traced a gentle finger beside the cut the whip had inflicted, “It’s very deep.” Without saying anything more, she took off her shirt, revealing a white tank top, and tore off a long strip with her incisors, which were as sharp and canine-like as his own. She wrapped the cloth gently around the cut and sighed quietly, satisfied. “My code name is Elementia. They mostly just call me Fire Fox, though. What’s yours?”
They had warned him not to use his real name, “Um . . . Nightcrawler.”
“Nightcrawler? I like it. Look, don’t let the other kids or Sargent DeMarelle bother you. They always pick on the new kid, and you not knowing French or English makes it all the more fun for them. Just ignore it. Do you know any English or French at all?” Though she was talking to him, her eyes were still on the bandaged wrist.
“Not a word.”
“Oh well, somebody’s got to teach you then or else you will be hopelessly lost. I guess it might as well be me.”
“You’d do that for me? You’d help me learn English?”
“Sure.”
“But . . . why? I mean, it’s not that I’m not grateful, but what’s really in it for you? What can I give you in return?” Nothing had ever been given to Kurt out of kindness, not by people other than his parents. The only thing anyone else gave him was grief, they drove him out of his home, away from the towns. But she seemed different.
“A friend.”
*~*~*~*~*
“MR WAGNER!!! I know you consider yourself to be quite an expert at gymnastics and have a 96 in this physical education course, but that is still no reason for you to sleep through the entire video.” His gym teacher, Mr. Grantis, stood over him as Kurt pulled himself from a semi-groggy state.
“Ugh . . . sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.” Damn these dreams. Why was he having them again? She was gone, there was nothing he could do. Why was he haunted by her voice? Her compassion? Her love? God, she was perfect; his ‘renard de feu’, his fire fox. Why did she haunt him now? Kurt shook his head, as though he could rid himself of these ghosts by this simple action.
Mr Grantis, the youngest (and by far the coolest) teacher at Bayville high walked back up to the gym room blackboard and began discussing the finer points of the gymnastics equipment. They were sitting on the gymnasium floor, fourth and last period, Friday afternoon. Usually Kurt enjoyed gym on Friday afternoon’s, it kind of helped him release some of the built up energy from the week. But today it was dragging on forever, maybe it was just because he was looking forward to touring the town with Angeline after school.
His teacher clapped his hand together and announced, “Alright, get yourself a partner to spot you and we’ll try the equipment.” Instantly, Evan caught Kurt’s eye. It was like some unspoken rule that they were partners for everything in gym. Apparently, Mr Grantis saw their look, “Mr Daniels, Mr Wagner, why don’t you try branching out and being partners with someone else for a change?” This probably had to do the with the last time they were partners, during the dance unit. There weren’t enough girls so Evan and Kurt went together. They had laughed so hard they had been sent to the bleachers. Kurt blamed Evan who had shrieked girlishly “Don’t you get fresh with me, I’m not some 25 cent whore, mister!” when Kurt, who was leading, put his arms around his waist.
Evan joined up with a girl in their third period English, named Daphne, with whom he flirted occasionally. Kurt looked around, as he’d said, most pairs were already established. Scott and Paul, Jean and one of her cheerleader friends, Kitty and Rogue . . . At this rate, he was going to end up with either Lance, Todd, or Pietro, because Fred wasn’t here. A hand tapped him on his shoulder.
“Do you ‘ave a partner?”
How could he have forgotten Angeline? “No, do you want to go with me?”
“Sure.”
He and Angeline were assigned to the uneven bars, Kurt’s favorite event. As they approached the bars and chalked up their hands, Kurt found himself babbling on about it, “Have you ever been on the bars? It’s the most amazing feeling, like you’re in a whole different world. The most important thing to remember is to not let go.”
She smirked, “I’ll remember zat.” Kitty and Rogue were also there.
“Ladies first,” said Kurt, bowing mock-chivalrously.
Kitty, though she was incredibly smart (to Kurt’s utter annoyance), was terrible at anything remotely gym related, so it was no real surprise when she couldn’t even get a proper mount on the low bar, never mind spin once, transfer to the high bar, and dismount. That would’ve required a miracle. Rogue faired slightly better, and managed to complete the task, though she looked rather taxed afterwards.
“How can you do this for fun, Kurt?” asked Rogue, brushing a strand of white hair from her cheek.
“Yeah, this is like, torture.” added Kitty.
“Why don’t you go next, Kurt? Grace us wiz your expertise. ” Said Angeline, looking at him with an impish smile.
Kurt chalked up his hands and mounted the low bar, spinning several times before transferring to the high bar. He loved this feeling, it was like he was flying or free-falling. Like nothing on the ground could touch him - not his dreams, not his past, nothing. He performed several forward spins and then crossed hands and spun backwards, pausing at the top of the bar for effect. He had attracted quite a crowd by the time he had dismounted, and his classmates clapped as he stepped off the mat. Well, all his classmates except Pietro, Lance and Todd, but he didn’t really expect that.
“Very nice, Mr. Wagner,” commented Mr. Grantis, who was moving from group to group, checking their progress, “Has everyone in your group gone?”
“Actually, Angeline still has to go.” Kurt felt bad for her because the entire class was watching the bars because of him.
Her face was set with grim resolve, the kind that he had seen in the cafeteria today, very different from her usual, cheerful smile. As she walked up to the uneven bars, she inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. With one fluid motion she mounted the bars and began to perform. Her movement was liquid, undescribable, artistic, as though she and the bars were working together in succinct harmony. It was beautiful, even to the untrained eye, but to one who knew gymnastics like himself, it was poetry in motion. Kurt joined in the thunderous applause of the class as she dismounted.
She walked over to where he stood, smiling, “I remembered to ‘old on.”
“That was amazing! Where’d you learn that?”
“A friend . . . from a long time ago . . . taught me. ‘e was an amazing person,” a sad far-off look came over her face, and she looked as though she might cry for the second time that day. Her voice sounded hollow, dead, “I can’t even remember much about him. I can’t remember much about my past at all. But I can see his face sometimes at night, when I go to sleep, it’s always hidden in shadows, but I know it’s him.” She was quiet for several minutes, the applause died away and his classmates went back to their equipment, but somehow he felt like he was trapped here in this moment with her, a bubble outside of which the world continued but they stayed the same. “Wow,” she said, her voice once again full, though it still held a twinge of sadness, “I can’t believe I just told you that,” she rubbed her temples, “I’m sorry.” She looked truly embarrassed and stared down at the floor.
“It’s okay, everyone’s got a past, everyone’s got secrets, some are just a little deeper than others,” like his own, he added silently, “It’s how you live out your future that matters. Don’t let your past define you.”
“I'm glad you understand. I was beginning to think no one did.” It was at that moment Kurt felt they truly connected - on a deeper level. There was no need for anymore words. Eyes closed, she leaned in closer to him, their lips deliciously close, he could fell her warm breath tickling his lower lip.
All of a sudden, she took a sharp breath in through her nose, her eyes flew open and she drew back. She wrapped her arms around herself, like she was cold, but it was more that she was vulnerable. This strong-willed woman was as vulnerable and scared on the inside as he was, though they both hid it. She looked back at the floor, “I’m sorry,” she whispered, barely audible.
“Don’t be.”
She looked up at him and smiled weakly.
“Alright class, there’s ten minutes to the bell so it’s time to hit the showers,” announced Mr. Grantis. His classmates began to shuffle toward the change rooms, “But before you go, don’t forget the permission forms and money for the ski trip are due on Monday. Not Tuesday, not Wednesday, but Monday. And if you forget you’re not going on Friday, understand?”
“Yes sir,” mumbled the people around him. Kurt couldn’t wait for the ski trip. Every year the gym classes went up to a lodge in Vermont. The couple that ran it was really nice (or so Scott told him) and because it was only the first week of December that they went, they were usually the only people at the lodge. It sounded great, plus, Evan was going to teach him how to snow-board.
Kurt turned to Angeline, “So it’s locker 213 right? I’ll meet you there after I grab my books.”
“Alright, see you zen.” As he headed toward the locker room, Angeline walked over to Mr. Grantis and asked him something.
He hummed to himself as he changed out of his gym clothes, very carefully as to hide the tail, and packed them into his backpack. He was going out with Angeline after school, they had almost kissed, and he was going to her apartment for dinner. Except for the cafeteria fight, the weird dream, and the argument with his friends (alright so it was a big ‘except’, he didn’t really care) he was having one of the best days of his life. And it could only get better after school . . .
To be continued . . .
Sorry it took such a long time, and that its so very bad (don’t lie, you know it is) but I got grounded from my computer last week . . . *sigh*. If anyone’s a Duncan fan (phh . . . never mind) I’m sorry I burned him, but he’s soooooo annoying! There’s also a very funny story behind the 25 cent whore thing . . . I wouldn’t ask if I were you . . .
Hey look, this chapter was actually Kurt !! (As one reader pointed out “Isn’t this supposed to be a Kurt focused fic?” oh well.) The next one is going to be Kurt too (sorry Lance fans, you’ve been delayed a chapter). Actually it was supposed to be one long chapter of Kurt instead of two but this one was pretty long already (11 pages) and I hadn’t posted in a week and a half so I’m sure you guys figured I was probably dead or something. Stay tuned for the next outfoxed . . . how will Kurt and Angeline’s ‘date’ go? Is she going on the ski trip? (Well, obviously, disregard that question) Why does Kurt keep having these dreams? . . . all this and more coming up soon on DUN, DUN, DUN *more dramatic music lol*. . . Outfoxed.
Bye! Thanks for reading, please review!