Ch. 10 Week 8

Lola found herself inexplicably looking forward to tuesday afternoon, when Lawrence Lawrence would be waiting for her as she got out of Psychology. As soon as the professor gave them the signal she packed up her books and was out the door. Lawrence was waiting, as usual.

"Hi," he said, and she resisted the urge to kiss him in greeting. What was she thinking?

Glory was right. He was no Antonio, no Jean-Luc. Why on earth did she find him so fascinating? She tried to quell the nervous fluttering in her chest. Antonio had never done this to her. "Hello, Lawrence," she said, trying to stay cool. "Coffee?"

"Of course." They walked together in companionable silence.

"How was your weekend?" he asked her eventually.

"Uneventful," she said. The truth was, she had taken the Lotus out for a joy ride and had to mind control herself out of not one, but two speeding tickets. "Studying, mostly. What about you?"

"The same."

"We are boring people," she offered, and he laughed a little too readily. "Lawrence?"

"Yes?"

"Do you want to go out? Like on a date?" She hadn't had any intentions on asking him, the invitation blurting out of her mouth by pure instinct. He stopped dead on the stairs they were climbing down.

"Are you serious?"

"I think so."

"I thought you just wanted to be friends. We've been having coffee for two weeks now...you didn't even want the first cup if I remember correctly."

"Well, I changed my mind," she said. "Do you want to go out with me or what? I can be a lot of fun." She gave him her best seductive smile. It usually had a melting effect on men, and this was no exception. She had to grab onto his arm to keep him from stumbling down the stairs.

"I guess we could go out."

"Great. What are you doing Wednesday night? " Glory would be at her League meeting until late--Lola would have the apartment to herself.

"I can't on Wednesday," he said quickly. "I have Friday free."

"Friday it is," she said with a smile. "You still want that coffee?" He nodded. "Great. Don’t fall down the stairs anymore."
*****

Lawrence could hardly believe his luck. The beautiful, sexy, wonderful Lola wanted to go on a date--with short, dweebish him. He felt like he could float as high as Cloud, but one small dread kept him grounded. America. He wasn’t against lying in general--it was a necessary evil when it came to keeping his two identities separate--but going out with another girl behind America's back seemed a little bit more severe.

We never said we were exclusive, he thought to himself as he walked to Memorial Hall for their Tuesday night class with Romeo. And for all I know Lola and I won't work out. There is no reason to feel the least bit guilty.

The thought was of little comfort when America ran to meet him, all smiles and blond hair and innocence. She was nothing like Lola. Her body was firm and athletic, her radiance so much that he felt sure she emitted an actual glow sometimes. She couldn’t be seductive if she tried.

"I missed you," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek. "It's not fair that you need to take an extra class every week. I barely get to see you now."

"It is necessary if I want to be of any use to the League," he answered, returning her kiss with one on the mouth. She was wearing strawberry flavored lip gloss. "Between my weak telekinesis and my poor fighting skills, I wouldn’t last one battle with the most lame of super villains." One evening with the Gold Swami had left him properly humbled. The tiny woman could do things he had never even dreamed possible, and he was beginning to understand how much he had hindered his progress by trying to hide and ignore his powers.

"You need to practice," America agreed. "I can't go around dating a wimp, now can I?"

"That makes me feel really good about myself," he said, and she grinned and took off to meet with Cloud, who had just entered the room. Lawrence saw Torch sitting on the bleachers, his hands still heavily bandaged. He went over to sit down next to his friend. "How are you doing?"

"M-managing."

"Good."

"I'm going to have to go to physical therapy for a few weeks, but the doctors don’t think I'm going to suh-suffer long term."

"That's good too," Lawrence offered.

"The League is arranging--arranging both therapy and training for me," Torch continued, looking dejected. "I've b-been in therapy for thirteen years. I don’t think it's helping any." Torch didn’t offer anymore details, and Lawrence didn’t ask, though he was highly curious.

As soon as class started Lawrence had to concentrate on his stance and
footing, and didn’t have time to dwell on Torch, or America and Lola for that matter. That was probably a good thing.

*******

Lola both looked forward to and dreaded Friday night. She loved spending time with Lawrence, but Glory was right. He wasn’t her type, at all. Maybe it wouldn’t work out, and she wouldn’t have to worry about it. Maybe it didn’t matter.

He met her at a little Italian restaurant downtown. Luigi’s was authentic--down to the checkered tablecloths and candles in bottles. Lola had found it with Glory before school had started, back when it was more normal between them and she actually saw her best friend. That’s why you’re attracted to him, she told herself, watching him pull up to the curb in a disgusting white pickup truck. You’re just lonely. “Maybe I should get an actual puppy instead.”


Lawrence looked nervous and cute. He was usually scruffy, but he had tried to clean himself up and was wearing a button-up black shirt (un-tucked) and jeans. “You’re beautiful,” he offered. She was just wearing her school clothes for that day--knee-high black boots and grey tights under a short black dress--but he didn’t seem to care.

“It’s no big deal,” she offered.

“You always look so…polished.” She wasn’t quite sure how to reply to that, so she just smiled, and he opened the door for her and they went inside.

Once they were seated Lawrence looked at the menu and his eyes widened at the prices. She could see him begin to do calculations in his head. “Don’t worry about it,” she offered. “Its my treat.”

He blushed. “You can’t pay--”

“Sure I can,” she shot back immediately. “I asked you out, remember? I do the asking, I do the buying.” He looked like he was going to argue. “Just drop it,” she ordered, and he did.

When the waiter came Lola ordered a bottle of wine. “ID please?” he asked her. He didn’t look much older.

“He’s got you there Lola,” Lawrence remarked.

If she were by herself she could simply force the man to bring her a bottle, but Lawrence had his eye on her, watching what she did next. She reached for her purse and pulled out a fifty. “You’ll have another one on the table at the end of the night if you bring me a bottle of your best.”

He glanced around the restaurant before accepting the bill. “I’ll be happy to,” he said, and disappeared.

Lawrence was staring at her.

“If you give anyone enough money, they’ll do whatever you want,” she explained.

“I wish I could throw around money like that,” Lawrence said, looking down at his menu.

“My mother is Jolie Marriweather,” she offered. “She’s a famous writer.”

“Never heard of her,” he said.

“It’s always shocking how often I hear that.” She hid a grin. Her mother might enjoy brainwashing people into thinking she was someone special, but Lola kept up the story only because announcing to your date that your mother was a bank robber tended to make the evening weird.

When the wine arrived Lawrence took a sip and nodded. “You’re used to getting what you want, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You’re a little scary sometimes, Lola,” he said.

“Is that bad or good?”

He swallows a gulp of wine. “I wish I knew.”

*****

Lawrence felt awkward when Lola forked over a small fortune for dinner, but she didn’t seem too concerned about it, so he tried not to be either. After they ate Lola suggested they take a walk, as it was uncharacteristically warm for October.

Downtown was well lit, and he was a super hero after all, so Lawrence agreed, and they fell in step together down the sidewalk. He felt her freeze for a moment when he slipped his hand into hers, and he dropped it immediately. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“No, it’s okay,” she answered. “I’m just not used to the idea of hand-holding.”

“You’ve never held hands with anyone before?” He assumed that was what girls liked to do--whenever he was with America her hand seemed to gravitate towards his.

“I don’t usually date guys who are into…holding hands.”

He didn’t want to ask, but was compelled to anyway. “So what are they into?” She gave him a wicked grin, and glanced around them. Though it was late there were still people out and about. She grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into the doorway of a boutique that had already closed for the night. Her body was pressed up close against him, and he stared into her big dark eyes. “Lola?”

She kissed him lightly, cupping his cheek with one hand. “You are adorable,” she whispered. “So not my type.” Her lips were close to his--if he just leaned forward a few centimeters…

“Then why are you here?” he managed to ask.

“Have you ever been corrupted?” she asked. He shook his head. “Do you want to be?” All Lawrence could do was nod, and she leaned forward, pressing her mouth against his, and it was all over from there. He had never been kissed like that before. Granted, before joining the League he had never been kissed, but Lawrence knew that Lola was something special.

He found himself clutching her tightly against him, as his mouth explored her lips and tongue before trekking further to taste her neck. He held her tight around the waist but was afraid to let his hands stray elsewhere, because he knew that she was going to realize that he didn’t know what the hell he was doing, and laugh in his face.

Behind them something crashed, and Lola jumped, knocking her forehead into his. “Ow,” she said, and laughed, pulling away. “What was that?”

Lawrence rubbed his forehead and turned to see what the issue was. What had once been a neat shop window, mannequins lined up sporting the latest fall fashions, was now a mess. All of the dummies had fallen into a heap, white plastic limbs sticking up everywhere. “Must have been a chain reaction,” Lawrence offered. “One fell and the rest followed.” Or he had knocked them over. Like the floating coffee cup. Was being a hero really worth not being normal?

“Weird,” she offered. “I wonder how they fell.” But she didn’t wonder too long, because she was grinning at him. It was an odd, honest sort of smile, not like her usual seductive expressions. “Well? What do you think?”

“I think I’ve been sufficiently corrupted,” Lawrence offered. “Thank you.”

Lola laughed. “You’re welcome.”

“But we’d better head back. Everything is closing now--we don’t want to be the only ones out here.”

“There’s safety in numbers,” she offered, but she let him lead her back to her car, a shiny black BMW. She was rich. Really rich. “It’s got a big back seat,” she offered, and he was tempted.

“Let’s save something for the second date,” he said finally.

“You are too much of a gentleman,” she offered, and kissed his cheek before getting into the car. “I’ll see you Tuesday.”

“Definitely.”

Once she had driven away he walked back to his truck, not feeling anywhere near as exulted as he should.

*****


Glory bounced around the apartment Saturday afternoon before heading out to her League training. “Have you seen my silver dangly earrings?” she asked, popping her head into Lola’s room. Lola was wearing an oversized green t-shirt and a pair of striped underwear, stretched out on the floor surrounded with books. Her friend was so weird.

“They were by the sink a few days ago,” Lola offered.

“I tried there--I think I moved them.”

“Why do you need earrings for a combat class?”

“KP and are going to hang out afterward. I want to look my best.”

“So it’s a date?”

“Not really,” Glory said with a frown. “We’re both pretty tapped, and we get all kinds of weird looks when we go out in public wearing masks. Mostly we just hang out on campus or in Memorial Hall.” The lack of actual dates didn’t bother her--she liked the casual camaraderie they were building. Still, dressing up and going out sometime might be fun.

“I’m sure he’ll get over you not wearing earrings. Guys don’t notice that stuff anyway.”

“Well, I do,” Glory said. “Oh well. I’m gonna be late anyway.”

“Better run,” Lola agreed.

“Not a problem.” And she rushed out of the apartment, her feet barely skimming the sidewalk as she crossed the city and reached class just as Romeo did.

*****

Lawrence dreaded meeting America before their training session, but she was almost late and wasn’t able to do more than say hello before they got started, giving him an extra hour to figure out what the hell he was doing.

He had no clue. America was wonderful--beautiful and strong, a goddess. And she was honest. That was the most painful thing. She was so true, and he was…not. But he didn’t want to break up with her. She understood what it was like to have powers, to be in the program. How long could he really hide his true identity from Lola before she started suspecting something?

And Lola. What if he turned out to be a disappointment to her? What if she kept wanting to go out to fancy restaurants that he couldn’t afford? The idea of getting a job while both training and going to school was ridiculous. He could never be what she wanted. America was the rational choice. They could be together, training for the League, and down the line, once they were sure, they could reveal their true identities to each other and go on and have a real life with no secrets and no lies.

****

Later that afternoon America cuddled up next to him in the lounge, watching TV. Torch was in the room, trying to make himself disappear in the corner, but Chameleon sat on the other couch eating chips and slurping on a soda. She kept smiling and winking at them. “Do you want to go somewhere more private?” he whispered into America’s ear.

“Why?”

“You know,” he said. “So we can be alone.” He let his hand fall onto her upper thigh, but she pushed it away.

“Be good.” She was smiling, but serious. And he longed for the few minutes with Lola in that doorway, or in her back seat.

I’m doomed.

*****

A/N:
Okay. I'm really sorry about the last chapter--it was supposed to go up on monday and somehow I didnt hit the 'post' button. It's been sitting done and ready all week. I had a nasty stomach virus over thanksgiving, so I wasnt thinking about Secret Identities at all while I was throwing up...and this week has been hectic. I have two papers due on monday and two exams on tuesday, and then glorious christmas break. This is my first semester as a full time student in almost 8 years, and did it ever kick my ass.

So...this is where Lawrence might start bothering ppl. I definitely do not condone cheating on your girlfriend because she wont put out, but w/ these 3 characters its so funny I dont really care. I have the whole story plotted out, except for what happens between these 3. I'm not sure how it's going to end.

A note on Torch's stutter. I definitely think he should have one as a character. It is however, damn annoying to write, and probably to read too, so he doesn't do it a lot--you can just pretend he does.