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I woke up the next morning still freezing underneath my pile of blankets, lying on one end of the couch in the rec room. Sunlight streamed blindingly bright through the windows, which were partially blocked from my view by Angelo's red-socked feet. I felt horrible - worse than I had last night, if that was humanly possible. More cold than ever, and my head still hurt and my sinuses felt like they were filled with cement; my nose had decided to cease any and all function as well. Wonderful.
I groaned and shoved Angelo's feet out of the way - he merely "Mmfhwamm…"ed and continued sleeping, or at least keeping up the appearance of doing so. Pulling almost all of my blankets around me, I made my way wobbily towards the doorway - it was impossibly far away and the task proved rather difficult, seeing as my head was swimming, my vision was swimming, and the room was spinning like an out-of-control centrifuge.
I finally made it to the doorway only to find it blocked off with POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS tape and a hastily-scribbled BIOHAZARD sign taped to the door frame.
"Huh?" I managed to get out, just as Jubilee turned the corner of the hallway and came into view. She was still in her pajamas: a pink shirt over too-bright yellow shorts, her feet shoved into huge bear-feet slippers.
"Ah, so the lovebirds awaken," she said, her eyes lighting up as she saw me standing there.
"WHAT??!!" Actually, I did not even want to know, for fear of having to kill her, or perhaps even massacre the entire household.
"Oh, come on - you know what I mean… you and Ange, way to go, 'chica.' "
"Jubilee, SHUT UP."
She feigned injury, but merely batted her eyes at my threat.
"Don't even…" I went on, trying to think of something with which to threaten her. "I will - "
"Sure, sure, whatever…" she said, not letting me finish my sentence before apparently losing interest in my obviously empty threats. "I know love when I see it."
So she wasn't as smart as I'd thought she was, huh? "JUBILEE!! Shut up! You're just -"
"Oh, come on! Sleeping on the same couch? That seems pretty darned romantic to me…"
"Oh… UGH!" I crossed my arms and turned on my heel; that obviously wasn't the best course of action, as I failed to keep my balance and toppled backwards, hitting my already-aching head on the door frame as I went down.
"Oh… ow…" I moaned, managing to elicit a hand from beneath my blankets to rub at the sore spot on my head. This was gonna bruise…
"Hey, Al - are ya okay?" Oh, so now she was concerned.
"I'm fine." I half-growled, wishing I could just go back to sleep and start the day all over again. Maybe if I'd woken up at 7:15 with a leak in my waterbed…
"I'm sorry - I'd help ya up, but you're quarantined and all…"
Darn. It was Saturday, not Monday. There went my chance for starting the day over. "Quarantined?" I asked. I recalled no such quarantine - in fact, I recalled no quarantine, period.
"Yep," Jubilee informed me matter-of-factly. "Banshee's declared you two officially quarantined to the rec room for at least the rest of today."
"Oh, great," I muttered, finally attempting to get back to my feet.
"Yep, uh-huh," she continued," just you and Angelo. In the rec room. Alone. For the whole day."
Did the girl honestly want death that badly? "Lee, SHUT UP before I kill you. Slowly."
"Okay, but I'm only stating the obvious, ya know." She held up her hands and backed away to what she deemed a safe distance before turning around and continuing on her original path down the hall, singing softly and off-key to herself.
"And I-eyy-iii will always love youuuu…" *
"JUBILEE!!!"
Nearly an hour later I was sitting on the couch sipping orange juice trying to ignore Angelo's feet - man, that boy certainly took up a lot of room when he slept - while channel-surfing with some moderate half-interest. There was nothing on, despite the fact that it was Saturday morning. I sighed, resigning myself to the fact that Saturday morning cartoons just weren't up to the same standards anymore. MST3K was "Overdrawn at the Memory Bank", and as much as I loved the show, I just couldn't take that movie any more. Anything but that… well, that or the Neptune Men…
I finally settled on Power Rangers as an absolute last resort, hoping to at least be able to make fun of that awful Pink Ranger. Alas, she must have been on vacation or something, so I was left with four rangers and one heck of a crappy villain threatening to turn all of Angel Grove's plants against them, or something equally stupid and pointless along those lines.
*Gel?* The psionic inquiry startled me, and I turned around in half-shock to see Jono standing in the doorway. What was he, of all people, doing here? What did he want? I was so not up to being ridiculed again…
"Hmm?" I decided to risk asking.
*Um, I was wondering if yer wanted me to bring you anything? You know, like something to do? Some CDs? Videos? Books?*
Wow - he wanted to help? I couldn't complain - I still thought Jono would avoid me at any and all costs, and I wouldn't blame him one bit if that were the actual case. As I pondered his request, a sudden thought struck me.
"Yes, please - that'd be great. Um, my CD case is on my dresser - it should be on top, next to the lamp - and could you get my box of video tapes? It should be on the floor somewhere."
*Sure, be right back,* he said, turning to leave.
"Thank you!" I said, still surprised that he was helping but definitely glad for it.
*No problem.*
While Jono was gone, I amused myself by pulling off all the red fuzzies on Angelo's socks, which were quite overrun by them.
"Mmf. Hey, chica, what'cha doin' to my socks?"
"Oh, so you're awake."
"I am now. What're you doin'?"
"Just pulling all the fuzzies off."
"What the hell are you watchin'?" he asked, poking his head out from underneath his own mound of blankets, where previously only his unkempt hair had been visible.
"Power Rangers," I confessed, "but Jono went to get some of my tapes, so in a minute it'll be something much better," I went on to assure him.
"I hope so," he said disgustedly, just as Jono reappeared in the doorway with my box of tapes and my CD case. I thought I saw a shadow in the hall - was that Jen? I waved, she appeared and waved back, smiling slightly.
*Here yer go.* He handed the box to me as I made my way over to the door carefully to accept it.
"Thanks again," I said, smiling.
*Sure. Hope you two feel better. Let me know if you need anything else.* And with that, he and Jen were gone.
"What's in the box?" Angelo asked, peering over the back of the couch as I came back around to shove the first tape into the VCR.
"Tapes," I said matter-of-factly, going for the control.
"What's on 'em?"
I grinned. "The Sentinel."
"Hey, Chief - wake up." A soft voice cut into the blackness I had unknowingly sunken into, accompanied by a flutter of movement that worked its way into my consciousness that I began to associate with the outside world a moment later.
"C'mon Al, time to wake up." More movement. "My arm's asleep; I'm gonna need it eventually."
Huhwha?" I asked, shifting my position, opening eyes I hadn't even known were closed. I looked up into Angelo's face, who was apparently trying to…
... get his arm out from underneath me. Oh GOD - I rolled away, allowing him to get out from underneath… oh boy…
"Oh geez, I'm sorry - I'm so - I'm sorry…" I could feel my face turn hot as the involuntary rush of blood to it began, turning me crimson against my will.
"S'okay Chief," he said softly, suddenly looking down. He wasn't…No… He couldn't be…
"Chief?" I asked, hoping to change the subject.
"Yeah. Chief." He looked back up, smiling. "You look like him."
I nodded, smiling a bit now, wishing my face wouldn't take its own sweet time on cooling off. "Oh," was all I could say.
"Yeah, good show. You fell asleep almost two hours ago, though. I been watchin' it, though… good show…"
The crimson flushed my cheeks once more - had I really been asleep for two hours? In front of the TV? On - ? Oh BOY. But wouldn't he have woken me up or something…?
And another thing - I usually didn't fall asleep watching TV. That was odd; but then again, I'd never fainted in class before, either. Besides, I was sick. That must be it, I reasoned.
"What time is it?" I asked, wiping the final remnants of sleep out of my eyes, all-too-aware that my face was still hot.
"Almost lunchtime," Angelo told me. "You hungry? I could get Jono and Jen to make us something."
I thought for a moment, consulting my stomach to see whether or not I could handle food. I finally decided I could. "Yeah, kinda."
"Good. Man, I want some grilled cheese."
"Grilled cheese?" I thought a moment. "Hmm…. I could use some of that too. With tomato soup."
"Yeah," Angelo said. "That's what I need. Grilled cheese."
*Frost said it didn't matter where we went or what we did as long as we stayed on campus,* Jono explained. *She made me set up a temporary connection so that whenever either of them wants something all they've got t' do is think it - so if I'm runnin' off, rest assured it's not you.*
I laughed in spite of myself. "I'll keep that in mind."
The scenery in the biosphere was just as pretty as it had been before, though now a different radiance infused the flora; the sun behind its glass seemed to shine in private ceremony for only us. The shade of the tree we sat beneath was welcome refuge from the mild heat.
What on earth was I supposed to say?
Maybe, I reasoned, I wasn't supposed to say anything. Maybe there was nothing to say. Maybe talking about this whole thing was just dumb and unnecessary. Maybe it was best to follow my own advice and rely on emotion instead of specifics and details and titles.
For once, I should just quit worrying about what was going through his mind - while the link had taken care of that before, it wasn't there now, and could do me no good. I settled myself closer to him and rested my head on his shoulder. This was so ... nice.
No - it was better than just "nice". And yet I couldn't shake the feeling that he didn't really care about me, despite all the evidence to the contrary, despite even the evidence that my Talent had allowed me to perceive.
But I wouldn't complain - I couldn't.
*Jen?* Jono's voice echoed through my head, shaking me from the faint web of dreams that had just begun to claim me.
"Hmm?" I replied. I didn't want to move.
*Nevermind,* he said. *It's a silly question.*
A silly question - sure. "There's no such thing as a silly question," I informed him.
He glanced to me, and I grinned back up at him, and I caught the clear sentiment of ~amusement~ as his eyes shone with laughter. *Of course not,* he belatedly agreed, his eyes still carrying remnants of that old emotion.
A moment passed as he contemplated the validity - or lack thereof - of his question before it finally surfaced in my own mind. *Why me?*
Why him? a small voice in my head echoed. How could he not know why? We'd been linked - he'd seen my reasons and my feelings - he knew all this already.
But I couldn't blame him for seeking confirmation ... things gleaned through telepathic means were so often of questionable truth. I couldn't be sure if I were simply making facts up, filling in blanks with what I hoped was true rather than what I knew was real.
Before I could answer him properly, though, he shoved me off of his shoulder, dropping my hand as though I was no longer important and had never been. Past my initial anger at his sudden action, I glanced questioningly at him for a moment before it registered that it wasn't anything that I'd done. I stood and followed him, though he seemed in something of a rush. Almost, I noted, as though he wanted to get away from me ... but I shoved that thought into an unused drawer in my mind and caught up to him, never minding his long, purposeful strides. Quiet anger seeped from him, almost bitter in nature.
"What --?" I began.
*Angelo,* he informed me coldly, *wants a sandwich.* Jono's boots thudded irritably on the floor.
A sandwich?
I lagged behind a few steps and remained at the entrance to the rec room as Jono went in. He came out a few minutes later feeling extremely ~disgusted~. *I should make them make their own bleedin' lunch,* he muttered - not necessarily to me, but rather to anyone who cared to listen.
He stomped into the kitchen, apparently oblivious to my presence. I sighed, following him in. "What did they want?" I asked.
Jono opened up the refrigerator. *I can't believe this. Why're they doing this?* He slammed the fridge door shut and began searching through cabinets.
"They want sandwiches?" I asked.
*With tomato soup.*
I thought I remembered seeing some soup in the pantry, where the bread likely also resided. "I think there's some lunchmeat in the fridge," I suggested.
All in all, this was very odd. The soup was, in fact, in the pantry. I removed it and followed the instructions. By the time the pot of soup was cooking happily in the microwave, Jono was still staring blankly into the refrigerator. I knew he didn't eat - so of course this was rather cruel - but he used to, so he should have at least some idea of where things were kept.
I resigned myself to the fact that I'd have to do this myself, and reached around him to get the lunchmeat and lettuce.
*They wanted grilled cheese.*
Of course he told me now, after all the stuff was out. I put it back and took out cheese and butter - I was pretty sure you used butter on grilled cheese. I knew my mom had made this before; I'd watched her. The butter went on the outside, with the cheese on the inside, and it all went into the pan.
The microwave beeped like a happy R2 unit and Jono took out the soup - oh, Light, I thought he was going to spill it - but the pot had made its way to the counter without incident. Thankfully.
"Bowls're in the cabinet on the left," I said, indicating the location in question.
*You want any?*
I shook my head and flipped the sandwich over. "I hate tomatoes." The bread, I noticed, was not supposed to be that color. Well, tough - they'd have to deal with that. I wasn't about to make more. Perhaps they'd believe it was Cajun-style grilled cheese....
I took out some plates and set the sandwiches on them. The plates joined the bowls of soup on a cookie sheet used as a makeshift try, which Jono managed to carry into the rec room without spilling.
"They want what?" I exclaimed, dropping the last half of my own sandwich on the plate.
*Comic books,* Jono replied grimly.
"Isn't it bad enough that we made lunch for them?" I demanded. "I think they're taking advantage of us." I resumed my lunch.
*Well, of course they're taking advantage of us. Wouldn't yer do the same if you were sick?* Jono asked.
Apparently he was forgetting that I had already been sick - or at least indisposed - some time ago. "I did not take advantage of you at all," I explained, if somewhat indignantly. "I didn't ask for videos or CDs or lunch or - or comic books." The last came out oddly, as though it wasn't meant to be said. I had to admit it was a little strange - what sort of comic books did she expect me to get for her?
I sighed, burying my head in my hands on the table. "Did she say what kind?" I asked, though muffled.
*She said you knew wot she liked. They each gave us about $10 to spend there. I suppose they trust our judgment.*
"I suppose." I looked up and considered the rest of my sandwich, deciding to finish it. "Do you know where we're supposed to go? Mall's kinda far ..."
Jono shrugged and consulted a piece of crinkled paper he produced from his jacket pocket. *According to - your friend - there's a shop in town that sells ... that sort of thing.* He handed me the paper. On it was scribbled a hastily drawn map of the surrounding area, with notes in Alison's handwriting.
"Okay," I began, "how are we supposed to get there?"
Confusion passed across his eyes for a moment. *I thought that was a map.*
What did that have to do with - oh. I laughed. "No, I meant - transportation. They took both cars out, and the other kids have the van." I grinned, shoving the list and map into my own pocket. "Guess we can't go. Oh, well. Why don't you break the news to them?"
*No,* Jono replied, *I won't.*
What?
*C'mon, let's go. You an' me both.*
He wasn't serious. He couldn't be. Only minutes ago he wanted nothing to do with this little excursion, and now he insisted that we go?
*There's plenty of cars and such in the garage,* he explained, only a hint of deviousness creeping into his voice.
Of course - I'd seen Frost's extensive collection, but he couldn't just take one without permission! It was too late to talk him out of it, though - he'd already headed for the garage.
With great trepidation and enough fear to last me several meetings with Frost herself, I followed several steps behind. He finally selected one of the many vehicles within - an unassuming compact car whose keys were hanging conveniently on the wall. This was too easy. Something definitely had to be up. Wouldn't someone notice we were gone? Wouldn't we get in tremendous trouble for this? Light - I was going to die. I just knew it.
Though one comfort was crystal clear - if I was going to die for these sins, so would Jono, and I could rest easily knowing we would at least share similar fates. But I still didn't want to die.
My heart pumped wildly with this thrill. It seemed like nothing to Jono - as though he'd done this several times before, as well he could have - but the experience was something almost deliciously obscene to me. I wasn't a bad girl by nature; my evil side only emerged when provoked, and even then she would do no such thing as "borrow" Frost's car. I was rather bland, actually, and sheltered, and good, with these sickening ironclad morals. I suppose it was those same morals that prevented me from doing anything - ah, drastic - with the otherwise unassuming Jono - even though my imagination was certainly active.
Once free of the school's boundaries, the car flew along the open, tree-lined road. We were no longer students of the Massachusetts Academy, no longer bound to codenames by our abilities and genes - we were no longer Chamber and Psyche; we were no longer Jono and Jen, or even telepath and empath - we were simply two free spirits who had managed to seek and welcome each other throughout chaos and tribulation.
For the first time in a very long time, I felt ridiculously happy. Joyous laughter bubbled to my surface and I could no longer contain myself.
Jono did not ask - he did not need to - and actually rolled down the windows to allow even more sunlight to come in and warm the car's interior. I shot him a query - he usually preferred darkness - but thought better of it and simply grinned.
I turned on the radio, and wonderful, exciting music filled the air, with a driving rock beat and wildly emotional guitars. The music - though it came from a radio and was not live - was filled with all the real emotion that ought to come with music, and it strengthened me. I didn't recognize the song, but hardly cared. I doubted life could get better than this.
That wonderful image, however, was soon broken when words floated back into my mind, memories that warned against our leaving campus. "Jono -" I began.
*Wot?* he asked - almost cheerfully.
He was too happy. I couldn't do this. I couldn't just shatter his mood - and, I noted, I'd been the one to bring him to such a state. Or had he been the one to make me so happy? I couldn't decide - and it didn't matter. I sighed, turning the radio up to signify that whatever I'd meant to say wasn't important. I shoved the guilt into a corner of my mind, where I hoped it wouldn't bother me, and I prayed that we'd get back before anyone else did.
Several songs later, we arrived in town, at the small shop that Alison's map had directed us to.
We were going to be in so much trouble.
I trailed behind as Jono pushed the door open, and as we entered I let out the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. The store held more than Alison's prized comic books - something odd tickled the back of my brain but I shoved it, like that guilt I'd promised myself I would ignore, into a corner and took the list from my pocket.
These were arranged alphabetically, I noticed, and picked up a few of the issues scribbled on the paper in my hand. I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at a lot of the cover art (Angelo's requests, I told myself) - but then something from the remotest corner of my peripheral vision struck me. Amidst the sharp lines (and curves), stuck casually between bright glossy covers, was a half-forgotten slip of washed-out pastel artwork. Informing myself that I did not like comics and never had, I gingerly tugged the book from the shelf, reading the title scripted across its cover: Kabuki. Hm.
I turned it over in my hand, finally deciding to open the thing, and was greeted with the most beautiful watercolor work I think I'd ever seen - certainly not the sort of art I'd expected to find in a comic book. It was chaotic - almost like my own mind, or random Tori songs playing in spliced loops back and forth. From the looks of things, it had a definite Japanese influence.... I picked up three issues and hid them within the pile of books for Alison that I'd collected thus far.
I turned, looking for Jono, and found him standing by the shop's door, waiting for me. I quickly made my purchases, and then joined him by the car. "We're gonna be dead," I informed him. "We're gonna be late ...."
*Don't worry so much,* Jono replied casually. *We'll be fine. Hold this.*
He'd bought something, too? I took the bag from him as he started the car, slipping the thick paperback out into my hands. The dark, haphazardly photographed cover certainly looked like the sort of thing he'd read.... I shrugged and put it back in the bag, preferring to glance through the soft colors of my own purchases.
I'd only had time to page through the issues, only beginning to read the first one in earnest, when I found that we'd arrived back at the Academy. To my relief, the cars that had been missing still were, and nobody would ever know that we'd been gone.
Nobody would ever know.
