Chapter 4- Looking Ahead
"Pietro! Get the hell down here!" Lance’s voice cut into the muddled, aching head of the sleeping speed demon.
"Ugh." Pietro blinked his eyes slowly, feeling sick to his stomach. His tongue was sticking to the roof of his mouth and it was completely parched. Pain clutched him behind his eyeballs and squeezed his brain. Damn his hangover! Pietro slung his arm over the bed, his fingers grazing the floor. No way he was going to school today.
He could hear Lance yelling from downstairs and futilely tried to ignore it. It was kind of hard because his head was starting to throb. Pietro squeezed his eyes shut. He could hear the older boy storming upstairs, cursing loudly with each step.
Why couldn’t Lance ever go away? Pietro sighed as he heard his friend stomp through the hallway and stop at his doorway.
Boom. Boom. Pietro winced at the invasive sounds that cut through his ears. Didn’t the guy ever hear of knocking? Or talking quietly? As though to prove his point, Lance yelled. "Pietro! You up?"
"Go away," he managed to mumble. Damn, he could barely move his mouth.
Slam. The older boy kicked open the door, then stared incredulously down at the miserable figure sprawled on the rumpled twin bed. Pietro managed to painfully open his bloodshot eyes and looked up at his friend irritably. "Go away," he said again, before dropping his head back down onto the bed.
Lance wasn’t the least bit phased. "Get the hell up and get ready for school. You’re not skipping today."
The white-haired boy felt a flame of anger start toward the dark-haired boy that stood so imperiously over him. Who the hell did he think he was? "Look, I didn’t get home till -," he started.
"I don’t give a fuck what time you got home." Lance said coolly. "You can stay out till six for all I care, just get your lazy ass to school." The older boy scowled. If Pietro wanted to get wasted every night and wake up with head-splitting hangovers, fine. He was in high school. Lance had gone through the same phase, though back as an underclassman. As long as the speed demon didn’t mess around with drugs, he could go out with his friends as much as he wanted. But he wasn’t going to let Pietro slack off. If his continually lowering grades didn’t hurt the teen’s chances for college, the all-to-frequent absences would.
"You are such a fucking dictator," Pietro mumbled through his pillow.
"Yeah, well, it’s cuz I love you guys so much." Lance said sarcastically. He crossed his arms. "Now get the fuck up before I physically make you."
"Whatever," Pietro muttered, but he grudgingly got up. He didn’t want to go to school with a hangover AND physical injuries. Lance’s wake-up calls were never gentle. Then again, if they weren’t, he probably wouldn’t have gotten out of bed.
Brushing past Lance, he headed down the hallway and into the bathroom. A single glimpse in the mirror, and he knew he looked like shit. That shouldn’t have been a surprise. He turned on the tap and splashed cold water on his face. He could hear Lance walking back downstairs over the running water. After he dried his face, he went down as well.
Todd, Fred, Lance, and Wanda were all sitting at the little round kitchen table when Pietro stumbled in. "Mornin’, sunshine," Todd said, referring to the dark cloud that seemed to be hovering over the other boy’s face.
Pietro didn’t answer. He just stalked over to the cabinet where they stuck all their medicine in and pulled out Lance’s headache pills. Headache. Hangover. Same thing. He swallowed down four of these, which was hard to do since his mouth was so dry. Grabbing the milk carton that sat on the table, he gulped some down, heedless to the fact that everyone else drank from it as well.
"Gee, thanks for contaminating the milk, yo." Todd said dryly as the rest of the Brotherhood all stared at the drinking white-haired boy.
"Yeah, no problem." Pietro muttered. He sat down in his chair and scowled. Lance was watching him with an unreadable expression and he knew that the older boy was pissed. He’d been pissed a lot lately. Everyone that lived here did the alcohol once in a while, except maybe Wanda. But none of them showed the aftereffects, or at least hid them better. Lately, Pietro just got more irritable and angry and then got wasted even more the following night. He knew Lance wanted to say something, but he wouldn’t in front of the others. So against his better judgment, Pietro took no pains to improve his attitude.
"So," Wanda said. "You going to drive to school?" They’d gotten a second car (an old used one) since Lance took the jeep and Fred to work. Pietro usually drove Wanda and Todd in the rusting, blue Volvo, but lately Todd had done the driving since Pietro wasn’t up to it. Wanda had enrolled at Bayville High since she still had a semester left of senior year. Pietro had to admit that the oddest thing to adjust to since the month before when Wanda first moved here was going to the same school as his sister.
"Naw, Todd can drive," Pietro said quietly, laying his head on the table. He definitely didn’t want to drive today. He could hear the rest of his family eating around him, but he definitely wasn’t hungry.
Someone finally pushed back their chair and Lance said, "k, guys. We better get going." The rest of the chairs pushed back as everyone got up. Pietro wearily lifted his head and grudgingly got up from the table as well.
He followed the others into the foyer where everyone was putting on their coats or grabbing their backpacks. Grabbing his own black torn one, he waited for the others, bored. Man, school was gonna suck today. Just listening to Mrs. Bart drone on in Calc would give him a worse headache than the one he was harboring now. I’m becoming like Lance with all these headaches, Pietro realized, conveniently forgetting that the older boy got them from his powers while he got them from drinking too many six-packs of beer.
With an irritated sigh, Pietro followed Wanda and Todd through the front door and towards the car. He wordlessly handed the younger boy the keys and got into the passenger seat. Wanda got into the back, which was strewn with miscellaneous garbage and papers that none of them had ever bothered to clean out.
"Eww!" Wanda lifted up her hand in disgust, which had touched an open peanut-butter and jelly sandwich. Wiping it gingerly on the soiled upholstery, she complained, "someone seriously needs to clean out this car!"
"Yeah, no shit," Todd agreed as he glanced out the rearview mirror, waiting for Lance and Fred to back out.
Pietro, who had been looking out the window, turned in their direction and noticed that both teens were staring at him. "What?" He snapped. The pills he’d taken weren’t working that great. His headache was gone, but he still felt lousy.
"Most of the stuff back there is yours, man," Todd informed him.
Pietro scowled back in return. He was glad that Wanda was in the back because she never ganged up on him. If it were Lance or Fred, forget it. "Whatever, Todd. I’m not cleaning it." He stared sullenly out the window, ignoring them both.
Lance had finally pulled out his jeep and Todd started pulling out the Volvo as well. They were soon driving towards the school. Midway, Todd turned on the radio since it had been so quiet. Pietro got an odd sense of déjà vu at the silence in the car. He’d been moody for several days now, and without him talking incessantly in the morning, the atmosphere seemed strangely subdued.
Wanda, while more open now with the Brotherhood, still wasn’t really close with any of the three boys. Oddly enough, she was closest to Fred. Lance seemed to intimidate her and Todd’s unpredictability was unnerving. But at least she was talking with all of them. Except right now.
Pietro inwardly groaned as Bayville High came into view. Its students milled about the parking lot and front entrances. The school had gotten so much more crowded with the incoming lowerclassmen, as well as more ignorant and superficial in its growing masses. Another day. Another Hell. Pietro thought. He seriously hated school now, thought he’d never actually loved it. What could a bubble town like Bayville possibly ever teach him? Seeing this restraining prison in its small town affluence and sickeningly friendly administration did not help his mind-consuming hangover.
* * *
"Hey Tolanksy!"
Todd looked up from the college board he’d been studying. It proclaimed itself as a hick town college that specialized in nursing, and for some reason, this was supposed to be incredibly inspiring and impressing. It called itself Krantz, a private institution. Yeah, private institution for nuts. Rolling his eyes, he turned in the direction he’d heard the voice from.
Alex was waving to him from the other side of the gym, flanked by Dwayne and Cody. All three were the epitome of white trash, the Bayville delinquents. And his friends. Todd wondered why they were even here. Shouldn’t they be skipping?
He warily walked in their direction, leaving behind the ever perky Krantz representative. The long rows that made up the college fair all called out to him with their flashy boards and smiling reps, Yeah, if they knew his grades and record, they sure as well wouldn’t be trying so hard to recruit him. Other kids might have something to learn here, but he definitely didn’t. Screw whatever Lance said. Unless he miraculously got a scholarship, which wasn’t going to happen, he would be putting in forty years behind the grill, flipping burgers.
"Hey man, what’s happenin’, yo?" He said as he approached his friends.
"Nothin’, man." Alex answered. He was a tough, big guy with messy hair and a goatee. He was a nineteen-year-old junior who’d failed twice, with no record of accomplishments but a helluva long criminal record.
Todd didn’t like him, nor Dwayne and Cody for that matter. Not only were they stupid, they were completely ignorant with no ambitions or dreams whatsoever. However, they were his friends in school, and none of the student population messed with them.
Todd was still skinny, though he’d grown quite a few inches. The two years of hanging out with Lance and Fred had toughened his rep, not to mention Duncan and his football posse no longer attended this school. No one really picked on him anymore. He’d proved that he could hold his own in a fight, and shown it when anyone tried to start something with him.
In the beginning of the year, one of the rich, preppy seniors had made a remark about the fact that he wore ripped jeans and no designer labels. Todd had fallen all over the tall, eighteen-year-old, literally wiping the sneer off the other boy’s face. He’d ended up getting suspended for two weeks, but he didn’t care. Then sixteen, he’ decided he wasn’t going to take shit anymore. At seventeen, he had the same attitude.
"…there’s gonna be a kick-ass rave this weekend. You going to be there?"
Todd looked at Alex. Him and the others didn’t even notice where they were right now. "Naw, I got work." He said casually.
Alex shook his head. "You work every weekend, man. Get out and live a little. You’re gonna want a lot more in life than working 24/7." He laughed harshly.
Yeah, like your life will ever go anywhere, Todd thought silently. He really didn’t want to be around his "friends" right now. "Look, I’ll catch you all later, aiight? I gotta be somewhere, yo."
"Like hell you do. Whatever, man." Alex waved him off and him and his cronies walked off. Todd watched them go, then aimlessly wandered in the other direction.
At the end of the gym was a different display. There were pictures of helicopters and submarines and a soldier in full uniform. The Reserves? He’d never thought of that. He was contemplating this when the rep shoved a flyer into his hands. Todd looked up in surprise.
"We’re coming to the school next week on Thursday from nine to eleven. If you’re interested, you can sign up here."
Why not? It wasn’t like a college, and he might learn something. Not to mention he would get to skip gym and math. "Um, yeah, all right." The rep handed him a clipboard and Todd signed his name at the bottom of a short list.
"Thanks." The rep took back the clipboard and Todd walked off, looking down at the flyer in his hands. The Reserves, huh? He’d never considered any military field before. Partially because he’d never been the stereotypical all-American poster boy. But while a part of him dismissed the whole idea as a way to skip class, a deeper part of him felt that he’d come a step closer toward finding his future.
* * *
"Thomson, pass it!"
Sneakers squeaked as the stocky blond pivoted and passed the ball to teammate Brandon. The boy caught the ball and started dribbling to their end of the court.
A white-haired teen from the opposite side zipped by and stole the ball. With encouraging shouts from his teammates, he got to the other side and scored an easy basket.
"Yeah, Maximoff!" His teammates heartily pounded his back as Pietro stopped to catch his breath. Getting into gym class had helped his hangover more than any of the pills he’d taken this morning.
From up on the bleachers, Wanda sat on the top bench and watched her brother play. She had free, and didn’t really have anything better to do. It wasn’t like she’d really made many new friends since her arrival.
"Hey Coach." Wanda turned away from the game and focused on a new arrival. He was black, with hair dyed blond and a cast on his left arm. They were talking, and the Coach finally nodded and told him to sit up on the bleachers.
The boy sat down a row underneath Wanda’s. After a moment, he looked up at her. "So what’re your excuse for skipping gym?"
"What?" Wanda was startled that this boy was talking to her. "Oh!" She said, flustered. "Um, I’m not in this gym class. I actually have free right now."
"Yeah? Cuz I was gonna say I never saw you before." The boy settled himself comfortably and looked up at her. He had friendly eyes and an easygoing manner, and Wanda felt herself start to relax.
"Actually, I’m new. I just moved here a month ago."
"You did? Oh, well, I’m Evan." He held a hand out to her, which turned out to be some sort of variation of a handshake that she wasn’t used to. But then, she’d never shaken hands with many people.
"I’m Wanda," she said. "Wanda Maximoff."
Evan stared at her. "Maximoff?" He glanced down at the courts, where his arch nemesis was playing basketball. "You related to Pietro Maximoff at all?"
"Actually, I’m his sister." Wanda explained. "I was living in New York City, but I moved here. I was, um, living with foster parents before."
"Oh…" Evan looked away for a moment. He’d had no idea Pietro had a sister. He gave her a sideways glance. "You go to Stonewall High?" That was his old school back in New York, where Pietro’d gone as well.
"Yeah, I did."
"Hmm, cuz I don’t remember seeing you before."
"Well, it was a big school."
"That’s true."
Wanda couldn’t remember ever seeing Evan, but she knew perfectly well why he’d never seen her. She’d always been one of the crowd and tended to be extremely shy. She’d never been popular back at Stonewall, with only a few friends she ever felt comfortable around.
She decided to change the subject. "What happened to your arm?"
He looked down at his cast. "This? I was training, and I sorta had an accident."
Wanda wondered what sort of training he’d been doing, but her thoughts were interrupted by a screeching whistle. She and Evan both looked down at the courts to see that the Coach had called a time-out.
Apparently, Pietro had slipped and banged his elbow. "Oh, I hope he’s all right!" Wanda said worriedly as she looked down at her brother, who seemed rather angry. After a moment, he got up and seemed ready to play again.
Glancing at Wanda, Evan wondered how this sweet, shy girl could possibly be related to Pietro. He also wondered how she could put up with the guy’s over-bloated ego. "You too close?" He asked casually.
"What? Oh very!" Wanda said earnestly. "We’re like best friends! We have the twin thing and everything!"
So much for that thought, Evan decided.
"Hey!" Wanda remembered that he’d had gone to Stonewall. "Are you friends with Pietro?"
"Umm…" Evan wasn’t sure what Pietro had said about him to her, or if he’d said anything at all. "I know him pretty good. We used to be on the same basketball team in Stonewall." There. That was true. They’d been rivals on the team, sure, and he knew Pietro all right. Knew him as his enemy and arch mutant group. He suddenly wondered if Wanda knew about the whole mutant thing. She had to, considering she lived in a house full of them. After all, if the Brotherhood was anything like the X-Men, they used their powers in the safety of their home. They barely restrained their powers out in public as Evan well remembered.
"Uh, Wanda?"
"Yes?"
He looked around, then edged closer to her. "Do you know about the whole mutant thing?" He said this out of the side of his mouth. No need for anyone to hear despite the fact that they were the only people up on the bleachers.
Wanda’s head snapped to look at his. "How do you know about it?" The mutant identity was supposed to be a secret.
"Actually, it’s cuz I am one."
"You are?" She took a closer look at Evan. "What’re your powers?" She said this softly.
Evan looked around, then lowered his arm under the bench so only she could see. "I can shoot spikes from my body." Several bones protruded from his forearm.
"Wow…"
"Yeah." Evan retracted them back under his skin. "Your brother never told you about the X-Men?"
"Who?" Wanda knew her father had formed the Brotherhood, but she had no idea there were other mutant groups. She took it that Evan was in a different group.
"Well, there’s a bunch of us who live in the Xavier Institute." Evan explained. "I figured your brother would’ve mentioned it." He shrugged. "We’re, um, sort of like rivals."
"Ohh…" Wanda said. "No, I didn’t know that."
"Yeah, well what’re your powers?"
"I don’t have any." Wanda mumbled. She’d always felt half-ashamed of the fact. She knew her father had always expected her to have powers. If she had, maybe he would’ve cared more for her…
Evan caught the darkened expression on her face. "Hey," he said quickly. "It’s not a bad thing to not have powers. I mean, sure it feels weird when you’re living with people who have them, but they’re sometimes a lot more trouble than they’re worth."
"I know." Wanda said quickly. "It’s just, my father, he always expected me to have powers, and when I never did, he-, he wasn’t happy about it."
"Oh." Evan wondered what kind of father would make such a big deal about that. His powers had definitely caused TROUBLE in his house. "When I went to visit my parents last Christmas," he started. "I was at midnight mass and I sneezed and spikes shot through my suit." He shook his head ruefully. "My mom was NOT happy about that. She made me pay for a new one out of my allowance."
"Really?" Wanda laughed.
"Yeah. It took a long time to pay off, let me tell you."
"I’m guessing." She smiled at him.
Evan grinned back. She was really cute. "Hey, what’re you doing this week-,"
"DANIELS!"
Wanda and Evan both looked up in surprise. Pietro was stalking up toward them, scowling. Apparently, class was over. He was sweating hard and Wanda could tell her brother was on another adrenaline rush. He always got like that after any physical activity. Meanwhile, Evan stood up to face his arch nemesis. "Maximoff." He countered.
Pietro looked between the two of them. "What the fuck are you doing around my sister, you son of a bitch?" He stood in front of Wanda, as though to shield her from the other boy. "She’s off limits to losers like you."
"Yeah, well what’re you gonna do about it, Pietro? We weren’t doing anything. Just talking."
Wanda bit her lip as she watched the two boys face off. Pietro’s eyes were glittering dangerously and she was scared of the hateful look in them. "Um, it’s okay, Pietro. He wasn’t bothering me or anything."
He turned on her. "Fucked-up bastards like him will fucking try to take advantage of girls like you, just to mess with me." Pietro spun back on Evan. "You better stay away from her, asshole. You touch her and I’ll rip your fucking head off."
"Yeah, do that when you want your ass kicked!" Evan snapped back. "Quit trying to make trouble, Pietro."
The white-haired boy just glared back at him, his eyes dangerously still. After a moment, he said quietly. "Let’s go, Wanda."
Glancing between the two, she quickly picked up her bag and started down the bleachers. She didn’t understand why they’d just started fighting, but she was too scared of her brother’s temper to say anything. Watching her leave the gym, Pietro turned back to Evan . "Touch her and I will KILL you, Daniels." With a hard stare, the speed demon stalked down the bleachers, leaving Evan to stare thoughtfully down after them.