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I walked slowly to class, trying to keep my balance and not trip as my feet refused to do anything but drag along the ground. I was so tried all of a sudden, and my head was starting to ache. I sniffled - no, I was not getting a cold. Nope, no way. Absolutely not. And that was that.
That problem settled, I made my way into the classroom and sat down wearily at my desk. I noticed that Jen wasn't there - was she late? But a moment later when Sean began class and she still wasn't there, I began to wonder if she was even coming at all. I hoped she was okay, but pushed my worries about her aside as Sean went to the board and wrote down an equation, turning around to speak to us as I tried to force myself to concentrate.
Easier said than done - as he spoke, my eyelids began to drift shut and my mind began to wander. I tried to make myself pay attention more forcibly; this was math, after all, and it would be a good thing to pay attention. He was reviewing conic sections today, however, and I was already quite familiar with them. Thus, that made it even harder to concentrate, and what with my attention span's already diminished capacity to function, I knew it would only be a matter of time before I would begin counting the dots on the ceiling tile. If this ceiling even had tile with dots…
"… and what would be the range and domain of this graph?"
Oh, that was easy - it would be…
…Maybe that new Methos movie would be out; if I could con Monica into going after sectionals, maybe I could see it later. But Methos wouldn't be -
Huh? I blinked; the problem on the board was different, and Sean was reviewing the equation of the circle he had drawn.
"… so since x^2 + y^2 = 9, the radius of the circle would be…
Slaughterhouse - 5 was a good book, but I really wanted to read Timequake. Maybe I could start it in homeroom, but I still had to read -
"… and this hyperbola would be at 5 on the y-axis because…"
That webpage had been so cool - I'd have to go visit it next time I went online. But I still had to -
"… so when you take the negative square root, you find…"
Methos and Mac sitting around a campfire, talking in the dark about -
"… y - 1 = (3/4)(x - 3), so the normal line to the tangent…"
Swords coming at me were bad, I figured. But it was so dark, everything moved so slowly, and I couldn't -
*CRACK!!*
What had happened? Maybe it was Blair's fault - he could have accidentally tripped on something, or maybe he knocked over the lamp and that was why it was so dark in -
"Alison? Lass, are ye all right? Are ye awake?"
"Hunh?" I looked up from my desk - no, I was on the… floor? Why on earth was I on the floor? How had I gotten there?
"Alison, are ye all right?" Sean asked again; I could hear intermittent snickers and whispers from everyone else, most likely Jubilee and Angelo, as Sean reached out a hand and helped pull me up into a sitting position. I climbed to my feet, holding on to my desk for support as the world I returned to seemed to spin just a bit faster than I remembered. I was confused at this point - really confused, in fact. What was going on?
"What happened?" I asked, causing more whispering and snickering to resonate throughout the already too-quiet room. All I remembered was… Oh my God, I had not fallen asleep in class. Had I?
"You fainted." Monet stated matter-of-factly.
"No…" I'd never fainted before, why should I now? Sean looked at me, concern in his spinning features as I gripped my desk for support. He felt my forehead and his brow furrowed deeper. Ye've got a fever, lass." he informed me. "Why don'tcha go ta bed for a while?"
Personally, I couldn't agree more. Bed seemed like an extremely nice place right now.
I stared at the ceiling. I'd been staring at the ceiling for the past couple hours, trying to fall asleep for lack of anything better to do. All this punishment would do would allow me more hours of precious rest.
I wondered how long this would last. Would I be allowed out tomorrow?
This was ridiculous. I was seventeen and a half, and I shouldn't be cooped up like some kind of child. I would be a legal adult in a matter of months; this was just plain silly.
The knock on my door woke me from the half-asleep state I'd entered. I turned on the light, put my glasses back on, and answered the door.
Alison stood there, looking rather pathetic. Her curly hair hung limply in her face, her eyes were slightly puffy and red, and she radiated a particularly miserable sentiment that I did not enjoy sharing.
"What --?" I began.
"I'b sig," she explained, her speech impaired by her condition.
"Oh," I answered, "I'm sorry. I'm grounded."
"Oh," she responded. "I'b sorry." She stuck her hand into one pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, handing it to me. "Jodo wadded be to gib dis to you," she explained.
I took it, deciding to read it later, after Alison was gone. "So you're up here because you're so sick?"
"Subdig lige dat."
I laughed good-naturedly at her interesting vocal patterns. Of course, she found it necessary to burst into indignant self-pity. "You're lavig ad be!" she exclaimed. "Why are you lavig ad be? I cad helb id iv I tog vuddy.
I sighed, resigning myself to her strange mood -- I wouldn't want it to rub off on me; I was bad enough as it was. "I wasn't laughing at you," I assured her, and kept talking before she could comment on the truth of my statement or the complete lack thereof. "Are you going to get some sleep? You should. And get some orange juice. That would help."
"Yeah," she agreed, "I'b goig do do dat."
"Right now?" I whined. Of course, I wanted her to stay and keep me company, but I didn't want to catch whatever she had -- it didn't sound too good, and the last thing I needed was illness on top of all of this.
"Iv I dode, I'b goig do vall asleeb ride here," she insisted.
I sensed there was something more than just what she told me, but I was hardly about to press the issue since she seemed particularly crabby. "That wouldn't be good," I agreed. "I'll see you later."
"Bye," she said, and left.
I was alone again. How odd -- my two visitors had likely breached conduct by coming to see me, and Frost had no way of knowing. I felt empowered, like I'd beaten her. Granted, it was only Penance, who didn't know better, and a sick Alison, who was allowed to be up here anyway, but I couldn't help feeling victorious over some evil that was most decidedly out to get me, and it was a tremendous feeling.
I sat back down on my bed and unfolded the note from Jono.
I couldn't help laughing out loud. I had truly conquered the evil Emma Frost! I grinned like a madwoman, refolding the note and stuffing it into my pocket.
But until he was able to come here -- until class let out in a few hours -- I would still have to compromise my situation and find some way to amuse myself without any real means to do so. I'd made the mistake of misplacing my notebook -- well, truthfully, I knew exactly where it was: on the piano, where I'd been composing yesterday. So naturally, I still wouldn't be allowed to get it, even though writing was an activity that didn't require any of those items I wasn't allowed to have.
If the link wasn't malfunctioning, I could just ask Jono to get it and bring it when he came. I sighed and pulled the cover over my head, hoping maybe I could sleep some more.
Of course, that was silly. Why should I sleep all day? I really ought to try and figure out what was wrong with the link -- if I could, of course. After all, it wasn't as though I'd been locked out of my powers.
Cautiously, making sure I didn't touch upon Frost, I extended my mind in an empathic search, trying to key in on Jono's signature. He was in class, just as I figured he would be, if his ~boredom~impatience~ was any indication. I couldn't communicate with him, though -- not even empathically; I thought perhaps the distance put a limit on what I could and couldn't do with my powers. He had to know I was there, though -- so why wasn't he even establishing that contact that I knew he could initiate? He was certainly powerful enough, and his telepathy had to be able to reach that far. It wasn't even very far, just across campus.
But I heard nothing. Not even an emotional reaction at my presence. He didn't even acknowledge that I was there. This was so stupid. I couldn't believe I ever thought this would work -- this stupid, stupid relationship, not just this idiotic link that wasn't even working anyway. I couldn't count on anything to work, especially when he'd just ignored me completely this morning, again, like I wasn't even there, like Paige was so much better and wonderful and I didn't deserve this because I was quite obviously psycho.
Well, no. The psychosis wasn't what was truly wrong -- it was just that Paige was better.
Well, fine. He could have her. He could just have her, and that would be fine with me because he was so much happier with her and I just wanted him to be happy and if he wasn't as happy with me then I would just let go and I'd be okay with that because it was all for him anyway -- why should I care one bit about my own happiness? It didn't matter. It didn't matter.
I really wanted my notebook now. I scrounged around in my desk for that scrap of envelope I'd written my note on, hoping the inside was clean. Fortunately it was, and I ripped it cleanly along the edge, revealing the pure white writing surface that lay before me. I wrote small to conserve space, letting my frustrations bleed onto paper in free verse.
The same sort of crap that Emma insisted I abandon entirely, ready to conform to her ridiculous ideals. I was not perfect and I knew that. I embraced that -- I welcomed my human flaws openly, knowing they were part of me just as were my talents. I didn't strive for perfection. I was most certainly not Monet. Nor was I the model student that Paige aimed to be.
Bloody Paige. Why did she have to even be here? Why did she have to be so much better? She only served to make things more complicated for me.
I stared at the envelope's inside, half-covered in flat-looking pen strokes. I had nothing more to write, nothing more to say. The empty paper was plain and boring -- disgustingly white. So pure white it made me sick.
I closed my eyes so I didn't have to look at its blinding whiteness and felt a chill run through me. I squeezed my eyes tighter -- tighter, scrunched my face up as small as it would go, and scrunched my whole body up as small as it would go, burying my head in my knees and wrapping my arms all around myself, letting my own warmth fill me up and cure the chill that still abided.
I hated Paige.
I didn't just dislike her. I didn't just wish she would go away and leave me alone forever and ever. I hated her with such a rolling, flaming passion that seethed throughout every ounce of my being, and that coursed through my bloodstream with intense adrenal rage like nothing I'd ever truly experienced before. This was more than the simple jealousy I'd felt in years past for any of the others -- more than any of the other girls who had been so much better than I was.
She was the pretty one. She was the smart one. I could find no fault or flaw in her -- for all Monet bragged her own perfection, she could hardly hold a candle to Paige. She was the one who everyone adored -- teachers' pet, everybody's friend, and above all of that, she had Jono. I wanted to be rid of her. I would find a way to be rid of her. I hated her.
I ripped up the envelope and scattered its confetti all over the floor, bright white snowflakes falling to the ground, then pulled the blanket back over myself, hoping to hide far away from everyone.
My thoughts were interrupted, dismembered by a demanding knock on my door. Dismembered -- that would be a nifty way to get rid of Paige. I pictured her with her legs and arms scattered as the paper on my carpet, with her blood staining whatever was left of her filthy shell, with her bones protruding gruesomely, with her flesh torn where limbs had been severed, and with her organs reduced to oily, fleshy spots on the walls, painted with blood and --
*Jen, are you in there?*
Oh, it was him: the traitor. Reluctantly, I opened the door he stood behind and returned to my bed and its nice warm covers and images of death. I knew he didn't really want to talk to me, so why should I bother to pay him any mind?
Jono stood in the doorway, staring at me before I could pull the blanket over my head. *Can I come in?* he asked sensibly.
I looked to the floor, but nodded anyway. "I guess." After all, I didn't want him to leave, and if he didn't leave, he would have to stay.
*You guess?* he inquired. *What's wrong?*
Oh, dear, did it look like something was *wrong*? Of course nothing was wrong. Nothing could ever be *wrong*. Not here, not now, not with me. What a silly idea. A sarcastic laugh escaped my lips, truly closer to a cough than an actual laugh.
Jono walked across the room, extending a crisp white envelope to me. I took it; my name was written cleanly across its face in Frost's slightly angular hand.
*It's from Ms. Frost,* he explained.
I nodded. "Yeah." I could see that perfectly well. "I'll -- read it later."
*Okay,* Jono answered, not really sure where to take this next and apparently drowning in the uncomfortable silence that followed. I had nothing to say to him -- nothing nice, anyway -- and if he had nothing to say to me, then there was no reason for him to stay, despite my earlier requests or my necessity for his company. I certainly did not understand that necessity.…
*I talked to Frost,* he offered.
I nodded ever so slowly, finally allowing the blanket to fall. I knew perfectly well that I didn't need that physical barrier when the other walls between us had been built so high.
*She's worried,* Jono continued.
"Hah!" The burst of sarcastic laughter exploded from my lips like a gunshot.
*No,* Jono insisted, *seriously.*
Keeping a skeptical eye trained on him, I crossed one leg over the other and folded my arms in front of me. This should be good. Frost was hardly one to be concerned when she hated me. Fortunately, the feeling was mutual, so I really had nothing to worry about -- aside from the lingering threat of fried brains, of course, but I could expect no less from Ms. Emma Frost.
*She's worried about you. And* -- he paused for a moment to collect his thoughts before sending them to me -- *and so am I.*
That was unexpected.
Was it? Didn't I accept his concern -- unexpressed though it may be? Didn't I know what he felt, despite his attempts to hide everything from me?
Yes -- I could at least admit that much to myself. I knew -- but I couldn't possibly tell anyone of my own emotions, simply because I hadn't a clue what they were. I could guess, sure, but beyond guesses I didn't know, because my own thoughts were so tangled with his that I hardly knew where I ended and he began. That was the way it was when he was so near to me.
I didn't need to ask to know that that was the very problem he spoke of -- the very concern he had in mind.
"But if you're so concerned," I asked out loud, "then why were you so -- I mean, you just -- " I couldn't find the way to express my worries; the proper words refused to come, and I finally gave up, frustrated with myself. I had no kind words to describe Paige, and I didn't want to misstep and potentially ruin those unexpressed emotions that he must have held for me.
*Paige is a friend,* he explained. *She's -- well … issues … needed to discuss. But that's between us.*
I looked at the floor, and chanced a glance back up at Jono, as I smiled nervously -- though I couldn't imagine why. Here was someone so truly beautiful, who found in me something to worry about? It was hard to believe.
*Just as this is between us,* he explained.
Right -- this. For all my understanding, I couldn't be sure whether he was referring to some ambiguous "this", such as some sort of real relationship that obviously couldn't possibly actually be there, or the link that still confused both of us. The former I didn't have a clue about, but the latter -- well, there were only two ways to really solve that problem: either terminate the link, or learn to use it to our advantage. But we couldn't do that. I couldn't.
Instead I gathered up bits and pieces of courage which had been discarded earlier and collaged them into one big lump that propelled me forward, allowing me to ask the question that had been biting the back of my head until I'd actually gone and asked it. "Why did you shut me out earlier? I tried to reach you during class -- I tried all day, but never anything. Nothing worked."
~surprise~ *You did? I didn't hear you.*
For a moment I was certain he was lying, but I brushed that suspicion aside, giving room to more comforting notions -- like the truth. And the trust that I wanted to believe in. "Well," I explained, "later it was just empathic because, y'know, the link wasn't working, and I was hoping you'd respond."
*Oh. I -- really didn't hear you.* He was quick to continue in his explanation. *I know this must look awful to you, but really, I'm not shutting you out. *
Despite the insistence that he could not possibly be telling the truth, if only because it was so easy to lie, I believed him. I couldn't imagine why I did - perhaps it was because I needed something to believe in, even if they were only small words. I could give him that chance.
I glanced at the envelope in my hands.
A chance was all she needed, too, if she was sincere in her desire to prove herself. It was all I needed, too, if I wanted to prove myself to her, and show her that I was a perfectly capable human being who was unafraid to declare her position and stand in it instead of this wishy-washy creature she'd made me out to be. I was prepared to take on anything, and I wasn't willing to let anyone get the better of me or make me conform to everyone else.
Because I certainly wasn't anyone else, and it was ridiculous of anyone to think that I ever would be. And Jono was here -- here! -- and he'd even said that Paige was of no consequence, and if he thought that I was better, then of course I must be better.
I smiled to myself, sighed, looked at the floor, looked back to Jono, and felt the smile creep across my face again. It broke into an actual grin, which had indeterminate origins but that much of it was hardly important to me.
I expressed real ~gratitude~, and ~acceptance~happiness~friendship~. It was returned with comfortable, warm emotions that cushioned my doubts and fears, surrounding and enveloping them so they might encounter oblivion.
There was so much I wanted -- he knew that perfectly well. That simple, aching need melded with his own necessities just as our emotions blended. It was beautiful. For the first time, I could really consider it truly beautiful. It was so much more than I'd ever really thought it could be. I scarcely believed I had done it myself -- I doubted I had; Jono seemed to have just as much to do with it as I had, instead of simply going along as though this had been done to him against his will. That he enjoyed this made it all the more curious, but I wasn't about to question it.
Instead, I reached out physically, clasping his hand in my own. That single act did no more to actually strengthen the link, but it seemed to -- so much so I feared I would burn myself out with all the energy. I closed my eyes to prevent the room from spinning wildly around me, hoping that the world might stop moving in circles.
I sensed Jono's ~concern~ instantaneously, and I vainly tried to insist that I would be okay. I could feel everything -- the raw power he somehow managed to keep a rein on, barely controlling it for all it was controlling him -- I felt this power above everything else, tempting me so sweetly, begging me to use it.
That was silly, though -- I couldn't access a power that wasn't mine to hold. I resisted that temptation, beautiful though it was, and tried desperately to hold my ground.
I could feel the power building up inside me -- for a moment I saw myself through his eyes, felt my own hand through his skin, heard my own thoughts through his amazing, delicious power. It was like looking into a hundred mirrors reflecting one another to infinity.
And then it ended.
The reflections, the strange passion, and the knowledge of myself against myself stopped abruptly, without warning. Everything was calm: the only audible sounds were my own breathing and my heart beating hollowly inside my chest. Between these shallow breaths, I managed to force out words. "What -- happened?" I asked. I wasn't certain Jono would actually know, but I hoped he would.
He didn't respond. Something caught inside my throat and I tried to swallow it. "Jono?" I asked through the lump; something burned my eyes. "Jono, are you okay?" Still no response came. I tried to probe his consciousness with the link, but it was as though another wall had been constructed between us.
Light! Not again! Not now, not now! Frantically I explored my options -- there was nothing I could really do to help -- help! Had to get help!
I ignored the confinement placed on me and ran out of my room to get someone. Nobody was in the hallway -- where was everyone? I tried to search for someone -- anyone -- and I thought I'd gotten a lock on someone when some amazing force hit me from within my head.
It was purple, I noted absently before the pain completely took over, pressing and exploding inside.
