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OOC: This is an extension of the lunch thread to let Laney and Sammy and Sarah chat some if they wanted to while they help Laney get cleaned up.

"What brings you to fabulous Oak Park Laney?" asks Sarah.  She stuffs her hands in the pockets of her hoodie while she walks along with them and nods to a few kids floating by in the halls.  She was slowly picking up the names and faces of some of the army of Dave but the vastness of the network still surprised her.

"Just lucky, I guess."   Laney grins, deftly avoiding near collisions in the hall, somehow managing to always retain her position at Sarah's side no matter what crowd they weaved through.   After a moment turning over the things she'd discussed with Ann and her family, what she should say and what she shouldn't, Laney adds, "My aunt and uncle live here.   I moved in with them.  You like it here?"

"Nothing like moving to Chicago in winter,"  Sammy replies.  "I've lived here my whole life, so I don't have a whole lot to compare it to."

"It is a lot colder than Virginia.  And there's all this snow stuff.

So um...You're both freshmen, right?  What about the others at that table?  We're probably in some of the same classes.  I got screwed on credits when I transferred here."

And when/if they do arrive at the lockers, it's true that Laney's assigned spot is in the same row.  She points it out, even going over to open the combination lock like a pro on her first try.  She shoves her history book in, shortly followed by the flowered sweater, the removal of which yanked her hair clip loose and her hair exploded in a mass of staticy tangles.    The exposed t-shirt bore a tiny image of a dog on the front, and on the back (only viewable when she pulls her hair up in a vain attempt to tame it again) are the words "Do I LOOK like a FREAKIN people person?!?" below that same dog bearing its teeth.

"Yeah, freshmen.  Sorry.  Maybe you can test out of some things and get the credits that way?  Talk to Mrs. Powulski.  I bet she could poke the right people if you want to try that."  Sammy walks a short distance to her own locker and gets her spares.  "Long sleeved T shirt or a sweatshirt ok?"  The shirt is navy blue with the word Huskies written in orange on it.  The sweatshirt is Orange with the words OPRF Marching Band written in white.

"What's not to love about Chicago other than the winter?.  When it's not snowing we get a lot of icy rain.  There's even a few clear sunny days.  But another three months and we'll be in the clear." 
Sarah looks at the shirt choices and suggests, "I'd go with the shirt myself.  Not everyone can carry off a band sweatshirt.  Otherwise I've got uh... I think a purple, dark like eggplant, zip fleece stuffed in my locker"

Laney valiantly maintains a polite and neutral expression when confronted with...orange.

Nodding, she says, "Yeah, t-shirt.  Though what you have, Sarah, sounds good.  I don't think I've been warm since I moved here, to be honest.  I guess three more months of freezing my ass off won't kill me.  Um... Yeah, we did some testing in the fall.   My aunt and uncle are working it out.  I got no idea.  Things are weird.    So you're in the band, huh?  I didn't do anything like that in my old school except drama club.  And that was only to paint sets while my artsy friends goofed around."

Sammy stuffs the offending orange sweatshirt back into her locker.  "Yeah, I'm in the band.  And Elrod's band.  And sometimes the drama club too; if you're interested, I can introduce you to people."

She closes the door.  "If you're cold, sit next to John.  I call permanent dibs on one side though, 'cause I'm always cold, and he's toasty warm."

Sarah smiles and says, "If it is warmth you seek..."  She walks down the hall to her own locker and pops it open.  She digs out a plastic bag from the bottom and pulls out the previously mentioned fleece and stuffs the bag back in the locker.  She pushes the locker closed and returns handing it to Laney.  "Here you go.  Warmth.  Just watch out for static.  If you scuff your feet while you walk around here you may actually electrocute yourself."

She adds, "And if it is scenery painting you enjoy then you should come back to lunch and chat with Greg.  He is one of the mad creative geniuses of the theater group here.  Sammy knows more of the crew than I do."

Sammy rolls her eyes.  "I know Nick and Greg, and they know the crew.  I was just carried along when they figured out I could sing.  Speaking of which, I need to let them know if I'm interested in trying out for the spring play.  I've already got so much to do, but I know they want me.  Performing was fun..."

Her muffled voice comes from beneath a mass of fleece and crackling hair, "Was that Greg in the cafeteria?  I um... I was just stagecrew so I could hang out with my friends after school. I don't know.  I'll ask him about it.  I guess they can always fire me if I suck.   Um...yeah.   I don't know anyone.  Oh!  Like a real band.  Wow!  That'd be cool.  I mean meeting people.  Um...Thanks!  You weren't kidding about the static.  But this is really nice, thanks!   You're a life saver."   Her face reappears once she's tugged the fabric down to her hips and clipped her hair back.

"If you tell me where to meet you, I can return this after school.  The lockers?"

Laney doesn't reply to the comment about John.  It was too...strange, especially after the girl claimed to Elrod was her boyfriend.

"Yeah, a real band.  Or we will be, once we get a decent keyboard player.  I do vocals and horns, El's on guitar, and Rhys -- he was the Welsh guy at the table -- he plays bass.  It's only through the summer though; El's graduating this spring and will be going away in the fall to who knows where."  This last is said a little wistfully.  "But hey, enjoy things while you have them, right?"

"If we play Saturday night, you're welcome to come by.  It'll just be for fun, not a real performance."

Laney appears content to remain loitering by their lockers, but will follow Sam and Sarah wherever they escort her, even back to lunch.  Whenever more than a pair of other students walks near, however, her attention is fixed on them until they've passed.

"Can't help you there.  My days playing piano ended in sixth grade.  What's going on Saturday?"

Sarah says, "Whenever.  If you're short on winter stuff, keep it until you go shopping.  I can always get something really quick from home if I ever really need."  With an obviously fake innocence she adds, "Not that I'd ever sneak off campus during school hours."

"We can point out the clicks, such as they are, and you can decide what you are into.  Most clubs are open to walk ins though some, mostly academic, have requirements."

Sarah asks Sammy, "Yeah what's going on Saturday?  You got a gig somewhere?  Can I come cheer?"

"I'm not sure yet, El hasn't said, but if we do play, you can come.  I don't see El all the time like you see Colin, or Syl sees Donnie."

"After school, worst case I'll see you at lunch tomorrow and can return it then. Um...If that's alright, I mean.   As for clicks, I don't know what I'm into this year. I should still know what's up, and I'd love to hear you play.   Colin your boyfriend, huh?"

The use of cell phones within the buildings was prohibited at her old school, and Laney faked reading the OPHS policy documents she was given.  She has no idea what's permitted and what isn't.  So before she retrieves her cell phone and flashed the glowing blue screen displaying her number for Sarah and Sammy to see, Laney scans the hallway for prying eyes.

"Well, give me a call?"

"No problem," says Sarah, "whenver."  


She grins at his mention and says, "Yeah.  We're together.  He's another of us really nice folks though he wins the prize."


Sarah pulls out her cell and taps in the number quickly.  "Gladly.  You're welcome at the lunch table anytime you like.  We should give you a heads up about Oak Park.  We've been having a rough year so far.  A lot of supernatural, meta human, whatever your favorite phrase is, has been going on here.  We had a problem with the Superman drug.  If your area didn't get it you might have seen it on tv.  There have been some people misusing power and hurting others.  We've had a lot of bad luck but hopefully things will be getting better."

That must've been what Alpha Bitch meant by "freaks."   A sick joke to scare the new kid. They wouldn't let people like that in a school, Laney was sure. And here was Sarah trying to pull the same thing on her.   

Laney takes out a folded class schedule from the back pocket of her new jeans, lowering her head to feign the study of it while she concentrated on suppressing the nausea. 

"Bad luck, huh?  I think people make their own luck - most of the time.   I guess I better go hunt for my next room.  See you around."

"You are right," says Sarah with a thoughtful expression, "Everything that's happened here has been because someone made a choice to do the wrong thing."  She brightens up and adds, "But hey the good news is that there are a few here trying to make better choices."


"See you, and nice meeting you Laney.  Good luck with the rest of your day." says Sarah before turning to head back to the lunch room and grab a couple bites before the bell.  "I'm heading back Sam, you coming or off to a class as well?"

"See you around.  Yell if you need anything," says Sammy.  "I'm coming."  She follows Sarah.

The two girls had time to rejoin their friends, and Laney had time to comb her hair and splash water on her face.   The day's almost over.  Laney felt she'd mastered the maze that was the high school academic building after the tours she'd been on.  It was with confidence she traversed the halls through ever-thinning crowds, until she had two minutes to spare and came to the sickening conclusion that she was lost.   She glanced around for a kind soul to ask for help and found no one in sight.




It's like freshmen year all over again. Hey, I can always take this class again next year, and the year after that...  She mumbles profanities under her breath while she unfolds her schedule to check the room number and class.  She was miles away from wherever the lockers were (where she thinks they were), and the cafeteria's probably deserted by now.  No good samaritans left.

Oh, yeah.  She made her own luck alright.  She had the correct room number, but the class? 

History.

And sitting near the window, where what meager sunlight that peeked through the gray clouds gathers, sits Alicia, who looks up and stares at Laney with no expression on her face.

John bumps into Laney, "Oh, hey.  I hoped you were gonna be able to find your next class."  he says, then his attention seems to wander for a minute, "Ok, so you're here.  I'd feel bad if you got lost."

((Alicia will be seen when Laney finally arrives to class, correct?  This isn't a window in a hallway, is it?  Or are we all in the right room, now?  Color me confused - or teal, as the case may be.))

Laney raises her head when jostled, sure no one had been there a second ago, but so pleased to see John, her smile practically glows.

"John!  Um...Hi."

OOC: Just following the lead from our fearless GM who indicated Alicia and Laney shared a class, potentially the one right after lunch. So, yes, Alicia has History after lunch, too. She normally takes her post-lunch siesta during it, but now she has something to pay attention to. >:D

John smiles and seems at a loss for a second.  "Ok, I'll head to my class then.  If you need any help, just ah."  he pauses, then scribbles a phone number on a slips of paper he tears from a notebook.  "This is my number, you can text me or call me if you need any help."  He offers her the slip of paper, and then moves off down the hall.

If John met Laney somewhere in the hallway, she was still very much lost with less than two minutes to get to class and would've asked where 212 was. 
If John met Laney at the doorway of the proper room, she had arrived several minutes late and was just noticing Alicia's stares accompanying the others in the full room.
The Alpha Bitch.  This day can't get worse.

OOC: John would have found her prior to the bell.  So he'd have made sure she found the room.

All through the class, Alicia continues her expressionless scrutiny of the new girl, her nose twitching once or twice during the period.

Laney remains hunched low and stares vacantly at her notebook during class, seated in the only chair available.  As luck would have it, she's right up front near the chalkboard, where the teacher can see she had neglected to bring her textbook. 

She's so tense that it's only towards the end of the time period Laney realizes she still has John's phone number crumpled in her sweaty palm.

John is there just after the bell to help Laney find her next class.  "I'm sorry if the lunch crowd is a little ah...I'm sorry if they made you uncomfortable.  It's complicated.  They're my friends, and for some reason Mrs. Pulowski has asked me to show four kids around in the last two weeks."  He lowers his voice, "We're not freaks.  We're just, gifted."  He looks at her, obviously uncomfortable.  "I'm not good with people, so if I spook you just let me know."  He struggles for a second to find something to say, "I can ask Mrs. Pulowski to find someone else to show you around if that bothers you, er, I bother you I mean."

Laney was slinking out of the classroom with the rest of the crowd, gambling Alicia wouldn't want to chat with her.  In spite of her irritation with the psycho geek table, Laney still hoped she'd be invited out Saturday.  It sounded..fun.   When I return her sweater tomorrow, I'll mention it so she knows I'm still interested.  But I can't because -

And there was John, looking something like a hero to Laney, babbling like a fool.  Kinda cute.


- because tomorrow's Saturday.  I'm such a dork. Oh, no, wait: I'm speeeecial.

"You're fine, John. Probably the the highlight of my day. 3.9GPA: I usually end up with the gifted crowd, anyway.  Nothing wrong with that.  Your friends seemed...nice.  And they just saved my social life.  I really appreciate the help.  It must be a pain in the ass to have to babysit like this."

John smiles.  "No trouble.  And we're all, well."  he squints for a moment, "Most of us are 'A' students.  I'm not sure about the new kids."  John looks at her schedule and tries to give her an idea of how the school is laid out, "So you can find your way tomorrow.  If you still get lost, just text me.  I know my way around pretty good.  I can walk with you to your next class though, if that's ok."

After a few steps John asks, "How did we save your social life?"

Laney nods, gratefully smiling up at him, for she is a short thing.  She falls into step beside John and there, once again, displays that easy grace, so artfully weaving through the crowds that it seems almost a dance.

"Wearing lasagna sauce for the next three classes would earn me some attention, but not the good kind.  Oh, and I was invited to listen to the band practice, sortof.   Not sure if that's happening."

"That's cool.  They play really well.  I guess they're looking for another person too."  John gets bumped into a lot.  The halls are crowded, and each shoulder he encounters shifts him some.  He always seems to be only half there, like he's permanently distracted.  "Maybe I'll see you there."

"Keyboard, she said. Sarah has my number, so if she calls...  Jean's off on this weekend; I could probably borrow the car.  Um...yeah, so maybe I'll see you.    If I haven't driven you crazy by then.  Thanks for the help.   I'll be alright, you know.  I don't want to make you late for your own classes."

The guy's not invisible. They're being assholes pushing each other like that.  What is it with people?  No one does that to me... And she begins to observe him, covert glances, at first blurred but with growing clarity. 

"It's ok.  I can be a little late.  I have a note from Mrs. Pulowski if I need to use it.  And why would you think you'd be driving me crazy?"

The guy's not invisible. They're being assholes pushing each other like that.  What is it with people?  No one does that to me... And she begins to observe him, covert glances, at first blurred but with growing clarity. 
[/quote]

It's as much John as other people.  He seems to be watching them, and moving when they bump into him.  Some people move, he moves, but when he does hit someone, or vise versa, he seems to shift his shoulders.  He seems to be playing it up some it seems.

He's rolling with it.  What's the matter with him?  Bruised or something?  Well, he does look like a jock...

"Because I'm hopeless.  I'm really good with directions, believe it or not.  Just braindead today and totally made an ass of myself in front of your friends at lunch.   Like I said: babysitting.  Mind if I ask you a question? What are you um... Well, you're not in band, right?  So um... do you do football or something?  You in the drama club?  Or just the school's resident tour guide?"    That's five questions, you loser.

"I ah, I played football this year.  I'm not really a jock or anything though.  I'm a ah."  He seems to mull it over.  "I'm not really someone who fits in with many people."

"I think you're wrong there.  They wouldn't pick you to babysit if you weren't good with people.  Maybe you don't fit because you haven't been turned the right way.  You know: like a puzzle piece.  Odds are you have a place.

I can't do sports, but I think they're fun and love watching.  I was just curious because we were talking about school clubs before and thought you might be able to tell me which ones to avoid."

"Oh, I fit somewhere.  I don't like Alicia's term Freak, but I guess to each their own.  As for clubs, I'm in the Science Club.  I don't really know any of the other clubs that well."  The crowd begins to thin out as they walk.  Something had been spilled, and the janitor moved his bucket into the hall to mop it up.  The students moved to the sides, leaving John and Laney to walk a clear path down the center.  when the janitor finished, he moved, and by then John and Laney were at her next class.  "As for babysitting, as you are so fond of calling it."  He smiles, "I think I get picked because I'm polite."  He points to the room, "And here we are."

"Science Club?  Polite and smart."   She flashes a quirky grin back at him as she reaches for the door knob.  "I can't stand Biology, can take or leave Physics, but Chemistry's gonna be a blast." 

"Thanks, John.  I should be alright the rest of the day.  Worst is over, right?"

When she turns to enter the room, a boy rushes out and past them with his hand clamped over his mouth, looking greenish.  The door swings violently outward and its edge slams into Laney's left temple, sending her sprawling backwards.

The boy keeps right on running, towards the restroom. 

Murmurs and giggles from the classroom can be heard: something about being sick and bad lasagna.

The door knocks Laney backwards, and John is there to catch her, a hand on the center of her back.  He eases her upright, and looks at her head.  "That's gonna be a bruise."  he says matter of factly.  Gently brushing her hair back, "You want to go to the nurse?"

He was on the other side of the door.  And then he was on the other side of her with his hand on her back to keep her from landing on the ground.  And she only realized it was his hand when he had her upright again.  It was like she had been leaning against a wall.

"It'll be worse tonight if I don't put ice on it now.  I have something in my locker.  I'll um...go get it."

She might not have heard his question at all; her response seemed automatic, the result of numerous similar incidents.  Laney stares dazedly beyond John, into the room at the faces peering curiously back at her.  Her voice had bypassesd her brain entirely, leaving a single thought to echo in her throbbing skull: So many faces.

John tells the instructor where they're going, and then guides her towards her locker.  "You have this sort of thing happen to you all the time, don't you?"

"Um...I guess.  I only broke two bones last year.  Just clumsy."

Her head hurts too badly to protest his company - that and she doesn't want to risk getting lost again.  The locker opens on her first attempt and there, at the bottom in a neutral grey color to match her backpack, was a small zippered case.  This, John can see when Laney removes a cold pack, is a makeshift first aid kit.   No one should possess so many bandaids.

"God bless ammonium nitrate."

"You're not clumsy.  Trust me, I know what clumsy looks like."  He examines her head again, staring at her temple.  "There's no serious damage.  You'll probably have a shiner and some swelling."  Then she notices someone walk into him.  John's attention is on her, he doesn't notice the other boy bump him.  He doesn't even move.  The other boy almost has to pick himself up off the floor, but he's running late and hurries along.  "Only two bones huh?  More than most people break in their whole life.  Let's get you a place to sit for a few minutes."  He says, helping her over to a bench in the hall.

“Is it?  I exaggerate.  Yes, it was two bones, but they were both in the same hand.  It wasn’t a big deal, but they still cut me out of any sports or gym.  Not fair at all.”  Laney lowers her voice to a whisper to minimize their chances of being investigated by any roaming staff members.    Mystified, she watches that boy scurry down the hall.

This walking wall of a football player might find her fragility humorous.  Laney feels she owes him entertainment, at least.  So after being seated, pack pressed to her head, with her one visible eye fixed on his face, she continues amiably, “The year before that it was my rib; the year before that – get this – I cracked four bones in my foot.  Two months later, I break one of them again - same foot.   

“The first time was my arm when I was um…twelve?  Yes, twelve.  Three-way chicken with bikes.  Stupid.”  Hey, I won the first four rounds…

“It’s been six months with no injuries – a record.  You play sports, right?   You should understand.  When you try to push past your limits, sometimes the limits push back.

“I’m alright.  Thanks for um…catching me like that.  I already feel guilty enough for taking up this much of your day.   You should get moving to your class.  I think my next one is right around the corner.    I’m going to sit here a few and um…find my aspirin.”

John holds the cold pack to her head and listens.  "I uh.  I only got to play this year, and just part of the season.  I um."  He looks around, then back to her.  "I don't get hurt very often."  He moves to sit next to her on the bench.  "Don't worry about me making it to class.  They wont mind.  It really wouldn't be very polite of me to leave you, especially if you have a concussion.  Not that I think you have one."  He looks at her head, apparently staring at the cold pack.  "Nope, no serious damage, no cracked skull, you should be fine."

"You can't tell by looking!  Maybe I should squeeze my head and see if my brain leaks out my ears.  It kindof feels like it would.  I've had concussions before.  That headache's a lot worse.  I'm fine.  That's one bone I haven't broken, yet.  It's on my list. 

"I'm a properly whiny baby for you to sit.  Sorry.  I appreciate it."  Laney adds a smile which conveys her sincerity better than the words, lopsided but grateful. 

Realizing just how awkwardly close she was to him right now rescrambles her thoughts.   She only manages, "So um...Are you taking any of the same classes I am?  Freshman, right?  Are you from Oak Park or a foreigner, too?"

"Um.  I came here from Maryland.  We have some family in the southern part of Illinois, and I want to go to medical school here.  The University of Chicago has a great paranormal medicine program, it's about the only one in the country."  John seems a little uncomfortable.  "And, I can tell by looking.  Remember when Alicia said freaks?  what she meant was that some us are paranormal.  I can, um.  I can see through things, so I can tell you don't have a skull fracture."  He seems to change to a lovely shade of red.  "That never comes out good.  I always think it's creepy right after I say it."

Laney spouts an enthusiastic, "We were almost neighbors!  I'm from Arlington."



John could be drawing that red from Laney; her face drains of color - so much so, he can now see the sprinkling of freckles across her cheekbones and nose, accompanied by a few tiny, random scars from old cuts and scrapes.  And that freshly scrambled brain seems to be affecting her ability to speak.  "P-para-what?  But I... They let you in school?  Which ones are...? You... Um... See through what things?"

"It wouldn't be right for me to out anyone.  I mean, anyone that didn't tell you themselves.  And, I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell people.  This is the first place I've been able to share it with anyone, but I'm still nervous about talking about it."  He tries not to look at her for a little while.  "See, the whole seeing through things always creeps people out.  I don't look at people to see them naked or anything.  I usually use it like an x-ray."  He shifts uncomfortably.

OOC: For clarity paranormal is the general term used to describe people with super powers in my game universe.  The term usually encompasses vampires, werewolves, super heroes, fairies, gargoyles and a host of other things.

((Lions, and tigers, and bears...))

"Out?  The school doesn't know?  Why are you telling me then?  I mean, I won't tell anybody, but um..."

Having never met anyone who wasn't human in her entire life (that she's aware of), Laney isn't stunned so much by what John claims to be able to do, than by the fact he made the claim at all. 

But he's been so nice.   She doesn't want to believe John's part of the Torment the New Kid party.    She slumps against the wall, her stomach feeling like it's trying to digest wood screws - perhaps inspired by hunger, perhaps not.

She latches onto what she believes is a a safer topic:  "Medical school, huh?  Are paranormals really that different?   I didn't think there were enough of them to...to..." bother with?   But this topic just circles her right back around to the uncomfortable place she started.

"One tenth of one percent of the human population."  he says, "But they can have vastly different physiologies."  He shifts to look back at her.  "The school doesn't know, in general anyway.  And the reason I told you is that the last three people Mrs. Pulowski has asked me to show around.  Actually, the only people she seems to ask me to show around are paranormal.  So I made the assumption you are too.  Even if you don't realize it maybe."

Remarks she’d misinterpreted from the psycho geek table and oddities she’d noticed about John but dismissed now fit into this new perspective too perfectly.   He’s serious.   What am I, stupid?? I’m such a loser.  Glad I wore a bra today, if he can see through -  Oh!

Laney’s gaze drops to her lap, her ears turning pink.   She protests with calm conviction, “I’m not, John.  I can’t see through people.  I don’t have fangs.  I’m not super anything.  I'm sorry if you thought so and are disappointed.  Mrs. Pulowski thinks I am?  She didn’t say anything.  I haven’t been -”

Media snapshots and tabloid headlines meshed into a collage with faces of friends, strangers, reporters.  So many faces.  Nonsensical patterns in her aching head she forces into order, but the final image that coalesced was Andy.   Oh, my god.

Laney suddenly stands, murmurs something about being right back, and starts walking unerringly in the direction of the girls' restroom.

OOC: Oh boy! Dueling psychodramas! Ante up, girls! Who has the most f**ked-up life? ;D

((Bring it!   :duel:))  

I fold.

Does that mean Sammy can't whine anymore?  ;) :-*

((Noooo! High school without teen angst? What fun would that be?))

OOC:  No.   :8  Just that Sammy can't win this one.  Her problems are important to her, but not really important in the grand scheme of things.

And I HAVE been trying to cut the whining, if you haven't noticed.  I was getting tired of it.

((Honestly, I thought it was both amusing and appropriate for that character.  ::)))

I like turtles!

Laney can hear him as she moves away, "I'm not disappointed.  I ah.  Ok.  I'll wait here."  After a second he takes his phone out and sends a message to Sammy.  I think I scared Laney.  she went into the girl's restroom on the 3rd floor near the south stairs.  Please check on her?

 OOC:  ;D It is.  I'm just backing it down b/c I'm getting tired of repeating myself!

After dry heaving for a few minutes in the last stall of the girls' room, Laney checks the time then leans heavily over a sink, staring at her greying complexion and her new welt in the graffiti framed mirror.

I can't do this.  They'll hold me back another six months if I don't stick it out.  Alright.  Nothing wrong. Nothing proven.  Just a bad day.  What are the odds anything worse can happen?

Evil boy.  B rite there.

Sammy grabs her bag and gets the teacher's attention.  She affects embarrassment and urgently whispers "bathroom emergency-- you know, girl stuff".  She takes a hall pass and heads for the bathroom in question, nodding to John before she passes thru the door.

Sammy sees Laney leaning over the sink.  Concerned, she asks, "Laney?  Do you need help?"

Laney jerks upright, smoothing her hair back repeatedly, stammering, "S-sammy! Y-yes. No! I don't...I was just a little sick.  Probably just because I didn't get lunch and - Hell. I left John in the - "  She glances at her wristwatch again.  "Oh. You're...Um...I just need to sit for a little while.  I can't go home early on my first day.   They won't - It wouldn't be a good thing." 

John's friend.  Another paranormal? What can she do?  What can I do?    Then standing became not such a good thing, either.   Laney retreats to the stall again.

Sammy's phone chirps with a new message from John.  I so totally should not talk to girls.

Sammy drops her bag and follows Laney into the stall.  She pulls Laney's hair back away from her face.  Cool, oxygen rich air starts to circulate past the sick girl's nose and mouth.  She knows John is listening.  "Shh.  Take it easy, it's ok.  Sorry John scared you.  What did he do, read aloud a paper from the Proceedings of the 2007 Gastroenterology Conference?  That scares me too, but I talk to him anyway.  Once you get past his good looks and his inability to talk to girls, he's really kind of nice.  Shh."

Between sobs, Laney hiccups, “N-no, h-he’s n-nice. I didn’t wan-nt to throw up-p on h-him. N-not his f-fault.  He j-just said I was -   If I was-s then I w-ould’ve been-n able to s-stop it and-and – ”   

And it takes awhile for her to compose herself.  Once she does, she’s miserably apologetic to Sammy and just stands there shivering and hugging herself, staring at the exit while she prepares to return to the world – and that John person.

"Oh."  Sammy passes paper towels soaked in cold water to Laney.  "You're blotchy.  So John asked you what your powers are, since Mrs. Powolski assigned you to him?  And -- am I guessing right, you said some things that make me think this-- you didn't know you have powers."  Sammy nods.  "Yeah.  That shook me up too.  One day some crazed lunatic was in the gym, and next thing I know, I'm floating mid-air.  I didn't know what was happening to me.  Then I got mad at my mom because it turns out she knew I was different, because she has abilities... yeah.  'Good times'."  She shakes her head.  "It's hard.  But, good news, you're not in it alone.  You don't have to do this alone.  So what happened that you think you could have been able to stop?  Or don't you want to talk about it?"

OOC: And the funny thing is that Alicia asking Sammy if she found out about Laney happens chronologically after this scene. Then again, that may explain Sammy's adroit change of subject and artful use of Alicia's ADD to keep from revealing anything sensitive. ;)

OOC:  Told you I hate jumping forward and backward between differently timed threads.   ::)

OOC: Yeah, but what fun would it be if everything happened in order? Boring! ;D

{Yeah, it's like one big episode of Doctor Who.}

"Yes, doors do that.  Crying like an idiot will, too.  Thanks.   I don't know if I have powers or not.   Chances are, I'm just crazy.  It's not something I can go ask the teachers about.   I'll get kicked out of school.  Um...Did you say floating?"

Her voice is much steadier now.  Laney busies herself washing and examining her face, then fidgets with her hair.

"I do more than float.  I fly." Sammy replies, as she starts floating toward the ceiling.  "See?  Nothing to be afraid of.  Neither is John.  The people at school and the local police seem to be turning a blind eye toward us as much as they can, not ID'ing any of us, since they know they're being protected by us. There are even some friendlies on the school staff, I'm pretty sure of it.  We know some people who could test you, if you want.  If you don't want, that's okay too.  I'm not going to force you, and I'm not going to tell.  John won't tell either.  It's your private business."

“If there’s a way of knowing without…um…anyone knowing…then…I want to know…um… How are you protecting the police?   It’s supposed to work the other way around.”  She manages a weak smile, feeling wobbly but more awake and herself again.

She can’t do that.  Is she altering gravity or air?   Laney squints up at the ceiling, then down to the floor tiles.  Then her focus on Sammy becomes so sharp that the rest of the room fades away - a room in which Sammy appears to be in the wrong sector.    Laney blinks, blinks again, and tries to correct what she sees.   

John said one tenth of one percent.   Amazingly good odds.

"We make the odds against them more even," Sammy replies.  Her hair floats gently around her head.  "You're not going to pass out, are you?  You have a funny look on your face."  Sammy pops down to the ground, ready to catch the other girl if necessary.

"Huh? No.  I'm alright.  Thanks.   Wow, I'm saying that a lot today." 

"I shouldn't leave John in the hall the entire period.  The poor guy's put up with my BS all day.  I um... How many of...of you are here? at school or...or in your neighborhood watch, I mean."   Laney takes one last peek in mirror, grimaces and squeezes her eyes briefly shut in mock horror, then steps towards the door.

Sammy smiles.  "More than two. But that's for them to tell, not me."  She scoops up her bag and follows Laney through the door.

Then Oak Park has at least fifty paranormals.   Where are they hiding?

It's a red-nosed, swollen-faced Laney who returns to that bench with Sammy, but she has an air of confidence and a small smile when she gathers her backpack up and locates the aspirin bottle in a side pocket. 

"Um... You guys should get back to your classes.   I'm alright."

Sammy accepts this.  "OK.  Shout if you need help.  Hey John, are we still on for tomorrow?"

"Yeah, OK.  No problem.  I'll see you tomorrow then.  And maybe at practice too."  He says, then gets up.  "If you're sure you'll be ok.  Sorry if I freaked you out.  I'm not really good with people."

Closing her eyes and sighing heavily, Laney says, "No, John, it's not you.   I'm just having a bad day.  Thanks.  You've been really nice about it."   and when those eyes reopen they are sparkling, her smile broadens.

"Practice? I thought you said you weren't in the band."

"No, but I was thinking of going to watch them practice.  Sammy and I were going to go to lunch.  She's helping me with some stuff."

Sammy waves goodbye and heads back to class.

Laney remains seated on the bench, waiting for the bell to ring, a pair of white tablets cupped in one palm which rested limply in her lap.  There was a moment she almost asked them if she could join them tomorrow, just a microsecond.    It was overwhelmed by her desire to forget the entire day; the longer they weren't around her, the better chance they'd forget, too.

But there was a matter of testing...Damnit.