Ch. 3: Week 1

Lawrence had to dig his schedule out of his bag yet again as he walked across campus. He was taking fifteen credit hours on top of four League meetings a week. Wendsday nights they met with Stone and Valkyrie to discuss the social and cultural aspects of being a hero--how the system worked, the rules of the league. Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays they had combat training, but their instructor, Romeo Avenger, was out of town for the rest of the week, so they wouldn’t start that until Saturday.

It was impossible to keep track, and worse, it was only the second day. He knew he had Calculus next but couldn’t remember at what time or what building. It was a sunless, windy day and a gust managed to pull the paper from his hand. He chased after it, his school satchel bumping against his hip. A girl noticed his plight and stepped on the schedule, pinning it in place until Lawrence could catch up. He barely glanced at her face before he bent down, his eyes following a long tan leg and black high heel. The foot let the paper up when he had hold of it and Lawrence straightened to look into the eyes of his savior.

For a moment he was lost in two black pools, and he forgot where he was or even who he was, but the girl spoke. “Hi.” Immediately the spell was broken and he gazed upon a curvy girl in glasses and a grey oxford shirt paired with a knee-length black skirt. Her long hair dark hair fell into perfect loose curls around her face.

“Um, hi. I mean, thanks.” He had never been tongue-tied over a girl before, not even the stunning America from the League meetings.

“What’s your name?” she asked. She had a commanding voice, one he couldn’t help but answer.

“Lawrence Lawrence.”

She gave him an incredulous look. “Really?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Poor thing. I’m going to go get a cup of coffee. Come with me.”

“Okay.” He forgot about his class, forgot everything except the girl--the woman--in front of him. She led the way to the Student Union, one of the newer buildings on campus (meaning that it was only fifty years old). On the second floor was a coffee shop that opened up onto a balcony. They sat at a metal table with steaming mugs, looking out across campus. Most of the buildings were a hundred years old, built out of grey stone quarried from under the city itself. Against the slate colored sky it was a foreboding sight.

“So, Lawrence Lawrence. Tell me about yourself.”

“What’s your name?” he said instead.

“That’s not important,” she said, and he couldn’t help but agree.

“I’m from Ohio. I’m a freshman, major undecided.” He sipped on his coffee.

“Undecided?”

“Math, computers, maybe pre-med? I’m smart, you know, but I don’t know what I want to do.”

“Pre-med,” she said. “I like that in a minion--I mean man.” Minion? She went on. “What about your family?”

He sighed. “They don’t understand me,” he said. “Do you know what it’s like to be the only genius in a town full of hicks?”

She laughed. “Not really. But I know what its like to not be understood by a parent.” Her laugh and smile disappeared. “My mother and I don’t really see eye to eye either. Her only concern is self-gratification. I’m looking for more.”

“I know what you mean. What was your name again?” Hadn’t he already asked her that? Did he forget so quickly? How could he forget the name of a face like that…

“I want to rule the world.” She was so serious he had to laugh, and forgot about her name. “You think that’s funny?”

“Of course not,” he said. “You look capable enough to manage it. But it’s not exactly practical, now is it?”

“Truly great things never are. It’s not a matter of practicality. Don’t you ever just want to fix everything that is unfair and not right? Doesn’t it frustrate you to be powerless?”

“I’m not,” he said. “I have--” He was so comfortable with her he almost let slip his telekinetic abilities but he stopped himself in time. “No one is powerless if they don’t want to be,” he amended. She seemed to accept this.

“Thank you, Lawrence,” she said abruptly, standing up. “You won’t remember this conversation later.”

“I won’t,” he agreed. She turned and walked away.

Later, ten minutes late for calculus, Lawrence would remember having coffee with a beautiful curvy girl with dark hair, but not her name or what they had talked about.

*****


Lola hurried down the hall, pushing her way through the throngs of students that seemed to congest the Union at all times. Lawrence Lawrence wasn’t as susceptible to her power as she would like, and it pained her. It was very rare to come across someone who could shake her. Worse than that, she found the fact that he had given her trouble charming. “Pull yourself together,” she said as she made her way out of the building. He’s cute too, she thought. Like a puppy. She’d chosen him because he looked harmless and young, easy to control. Well, no one would judge from the looks of her that she was a super villain either.

It had started to rain, a condition she noticed was prevalent in Acropolis. (Along with heavy clouds, mist, and fog.) She had an hour to kill before heading to English Comp. She was using her spare time between classes to scope out potential minions, but so far had come up short. There were a few prospects, but Lawrence Lawrence was not among them. She smiled at his double name and cursed herself for it. She was a super villain. She didn’t have time for silly schoolgirl crushes. She had work to do.

*****

By the end of the first week Glory felt like she was going to collapse from exhaustion. She slept most of Saturday, waking up after one and wandering into the living room. Aside from the two bedrooms and bathroom the apartment was one large room, and she found Lola at the dining room table surrounded with her schoolbooks, weak sunlight streaming in through the window behind her.

“It’s Saturday!” Glory protested.

“Well, my majors are just a little more complicated than yours,” Lola said, speaking of Glory’s plan to become a kindergarten teacher.

“You’re going to change your mind about this double doctorate thing.” Glory thought Lola was crazy, planning to go into both Psychology and Bio-engineering. It was all too complicated. Glory could only conclude that her friend was insane.

“I’m not,” Lola said. “What are your plans for the day?”

“I have training,” Glory said proudly, reminding Lola that she too, was something special. She might not be as smart, but dammit, she was a super hero.

“So how do you like being a super hero?” Lola asked, her eyes still scanning her books.

“Oh, you know.” Glory couldn’t help but grin. “I love it! Everyone has powers so I don’t have to feel like a freak, and I’m learning so much. We all have to take combat training because Stone says that having super powers won’t save you from most situations. You’ll never guess who our instructors is.”

“Who?”

“Romeo Avenger.”

She knew even Lola had to be impressed, and she was. “He has the most perfect cheekbones,” she breathed. “And his technique is flawless,” she added, trying to save herself from teenaged lust. Glory knew Lola well enough to know when she had a crush, even if all of their other friends in high school had considered her fairly asexual.

“I can’t believe that all these great, famous heroes are going to be my teachers, my mentors.”

“Well, if you find you have to sleep with your professor to pass, go with Romeo. Or Stone,” Lola mused. “Do you think all of him is hard as granite?”

“You’re gross,” Glory laughed. “I’m gonna make breakfast.”

“It’s lunch time,” Lola said, turning her attention back to her books.


After Glory ate and showered she headed towards campus. It was a two-mile walk and Lola offered to let her use the BMW, but Glory had other plans. She was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt but as soon as she was clear from the apartment she ducked into a phone booth and put on her mask. (There seemed to be a phone booth on every block in Acropolis, even though most of the phones didn’t work anymore.) Safe in her secret identity, she started running at a moderate speed, and traveled the two miles in five minutes. She wasn’t even out of breath when she got to the gymnasium in Memorial Hall.

The ‘Memorial’ part of the building’s name referred to a super heroes’ memorial, and there were lists of fallen heroes carved into the outside wall. It was a large wall. With the mask she was one of them, and she looked on those names with pride. She didn’t even consider her own mortality. She was going to be the greatest. She knew it.

*****

Lawrence came to his first combat training wearing a mask like everyone else. It was just from a normal costume store--black satin that covered most of his face. It wasn’t as hot as the ski mask and looked a lot better. “I like it,” America said when he got to the gymnasium. She was sitting on the floor wearing tiny shorts and a string tank top, doing stretches with her legs in an almost full spread. It was a glorious sight, but Lawrence couldn’t help but think of the mysterious girl he’d had coffee with the second day of school. Her face haunted him every night in his dreams, and he began to think she was a dream. “But it hides so much of your face,” America continued.

“That’s not a bad thing,” he commented, sitting down next to her, but not too close.

“I bet you’re adorable,” she said. That would be the problem, he thought, blushing all the same and glad he was wearing such a full mask.

Lawrence was wearing sweat pants and a t-shirt, and he saw that most of the others had dressed accordingly. The Chameleon was wearing a karate uniform (she was a purple belt), and Captain Righteous stomped into the room last, again in full gold body armor and large heavy gold boots. Romeo Avenger came in at exactly three o’ clock. Their instructors were exceptionally punctual and never early.

Romeo Avenger was in his late twenties, muscular but not in a bulky way like Stone. He had a dancer’s body, accentuated by the tights and billowy poet’s shirt that made up his costume. His mask did not cover much of his face, which was exceptionally beautiful (or so Lawrence’s mother and other female relatives claimed). Around him he heard the girls sigh. “Those tights leave nothing to the imagination,” he heard Cloud whisper.

“Codpiece,” Chameleon said with a snicker. “He thinks he’s David Bowie.”

“No,” Cloud said, “He has better hair than Bowie.” Romeo Avenger pretended not to notice their whispers, but ran his fingers through his blond hair all the same.

“Welcome to Hand to Hand 101,” he said. “This will be one of the hardest classes you will take, and it is continuous. You will be training your entire life, so you might as well get used to it now. On your feet, let’s do some warm-ups.”

Everyone got up off the floor, except Righteous, who was already standing. Lawrence imagined it was hard to get up and down with all that gear on, and sure enough, a few minutes into their warm-up (which, Lawrence was aghast to learn, included a few dance steps) Romeo Avenger approached the Captain. Righteous was clanking around with his ungraceful attempts, so that Black, who stood next to him, complained he couldn’t hear the music they were moving to.

“Lose the armor,” Romeo Avenger said.

“I’m Captain Righteous. I need my armor.”

“I don’t care who you are. If you can’t follow simple instructions and you can’t do the work expected of you in my class, you shouldn’t be here and you shouldn’t be in this program.”

“My father--”

“I know your father. He’s a graceless oaf too.” Lawrence had to smile when Righteous decided to do as their teacher asked, and spent the rest of the class in an undershirt and boxers, still wearing his gold helmet to preserve his identity.

*****

A/N: So how is everybody liking it so far? This is my favorite chapter to date--I love the way Lola and Lawrence react to each other and I love how the girls drool over Romeo Avenger.

I’ve been trying to decide who exactly everyone looks like. Romeo Avenger is definitely Cary Elwes circa Princess Bride. Lola is a young Callie from Grey’s Anatomy, and Lawrence looks like John Francis Daley circa somewhere between Bones and Freaks and Geeks. I’m leaning towards the blond Heather in Heathers for Glory, or the character Glory from Buffy. (That sounds nice and confusing.) Stone is very obviously Ron Pearlman.