Ch. 11 Week 9

In the steamy interior of Lola’s BMW she climbed up to the front seat to check her lipstick in the rearview mirror. It definitely needed some touching up, since most of it had smeared off across several portions of Lawrence’s anatomy. In the back he was pulling his shirt back on. He leaned forward. “What time is it?” he asked, still breathing heavy.

Lola fished her cell phone out of her purse. “Going on five.”

“Crap,” he said, and leaned over her to retrieve his flannel shirt from the dashboard. “I gotta get going.”

“You have another hot date?” Lola questioned, digging in her bag for her lipstick.

“Night class,” he said, buttoning his shirt.

Lola found her hairbrush and raked it through her now sloppy waves. “I gotta get going too,” she offered. “Job.”

“You work?” he questioned, sounding surprised.

“Here and there,” she answered, doing her best to be vague. “Need me to drop you anywhere?”

“No thanks, I can walk.”

They both tumbled out of the car and Lola stood opposite Lawrence. She grinned when she saw he had miss-buttoned his shirt, but didn’t say anything. He had a slightly glazed expression from a good hour in her backseat. “Well,” he said. “That was um, enlightening.”

“I’ll have you corrupted yet,” she teased. They hadn’t had sex, which was fine with her, if only because the back of a car was not really roomy enough if there were other options. Something seemed to be holding him back. Maybe he wanted to take things slow. It was kind of sweet, and definitely a refreshing change. Of course, this was the first time she wanted a guy for something other than sex or to look good on her arm at parties.

“Soon,” he promised, and they kissed, Lawrence surprising her by pushing her up against the car, his hand sliding up her skirt and clutching her hip. Lola moaned against his lips…why did he have to go…

Lawrence pulled away too soon. “I’ll call you later, he offered, and she nodded. “And coffee tomorrow?”

“Unless you can think of anything more interesting to do,” she said, and he left her alone in the parking deck, with an annoying warmth in her lower extremities that refused to go away. “You’re doomed,” she told herself, climbing into the car and starting the engine. She had better things to do than lust after a math geek that looked twelve.

Lola drove over to the garage where she kept her Lotus. She had brainwashed a man into letting her use it. It opened up into an alley that was rarely occupied by more than a garbage can or a stray cat. She changed into the Mind Mistress’s costume and traded cars, driving the rest of the way to her lair in style.

Kioshi and Hannah were waiting for her there, matching in their black dusters and black t-shirts. She had talked to Kioshi earlier that evening--apparently they had good news for her. She’d sent them out to comb the city looking for any signs of a meeting place for other super villains. Despite her minions, despite Lawrence, she still felt alone. The city was crawling with dozens of super villains and hundreds of more run of the mill criminals. She was sure they were off networking somewhere in the city.

“What have you got for me?” she asked them.

“We found a club,” Hannah told her, handing her a slip of paper with a west side address on it, only a few blocks from the lair. “No name, just the address. It’s very underground. There’s a red door. You need a password.”

“Wonderful.”

“We couldn’t figure it out.”

“That’s okay,” Lola said. If her mother could mind control herself into a bank vault, getting past a password was bound to be little difficulty.

Kioshi spoke up. “Do you want us to come with you?”

“No,” Lola said after some consideration. “Not until I’ve scouted the place out. I wouldn’t want you to get into any trouble before I know its trustworthy.”

“But our job is to protect you,” Kioshi argued, and Hannah nodded in agreement. “You can’t go on your own.”

“Sure I can.” If Dark Lothario was there she didn’t want to meet her potential father with a slew of people in tow. She’d wondered what she wanted to happen when the time came. Did she want him to recognize her, to accept her? Glory was right--what he did to those women was terrible, no matter how much they enjoyed it at the time. Her mother was bad, but at least Mesmera didn’t ruin people’s lives. Her instincts told her that he was her father. Maybe it would be best if her instincts were wrong.

“I’ll be fine,” Lola promised them. “If I run into trouble I’ll call you.” She had given them both phones with all the bells and whistles available.

“We’ll stay here so we’ll be close,” Hannah told her.

Lola nodded in acquiescence.

******

Lawrence arrived a few minutes late to his second meeting with the Golden Swami. She had confiscated one of the second floor classrooms--they were mostly empty--and had turned it into a large spacious office. She a large chair situated behind an old wooden desk at the front of the room and had scattered brightly woven rugs across the floor and filled a ledge under the windows lining one wall with various plants. She was sitting in a well upholstered armchair in one corner, a small table sporting a full tea service at her side, while he had an old wooden folding chair to sit in in front of a table littered with various objects that he was supposed to practice with.

“You’re late,” she chided as soon as he stepped into the door, giving him a studying look. He hoped there wasn’t any lipstick on his face or collar. Lola had been…wonderful. And in the car there wasn’t as many items or enough space to send stuff flying around them, which was good because if there had been…it would have looked like a tornado.

“I’m sorry,” he said, sitting down in the hard chair. “I had--a thing.”

“Your shirt is buttoned wrong,” she told him.

“Oh.” He started to undo his shirt but a yardstick flashed out of nowhere and smacked his knuckles. He yelped and jumped back, out of the Swami’s limited reach. “Hey!”

She propped the stick up against the arm of her chair. “Don’t use your fingers,” she told him. “Use your mind.”

Use my mind? A mind still reeling from the time spent with Lola? A mind that was incapable of voluntary activity greater than turning a page in a book? “I don’t think I can,” he told her.

“You’re not leaving tonight until you figure it out.” She gave him a demure smile and poured herself a cup of tea. It was going to be a long night.

*****

Lola could feel her hands shaking with nervousness as she approached the address Hannah had given her. The building was an abandoned factory, but she could tell that it wasn’t really. It was a little bit better kept up than other buildings on the block, and Lola found the red door Hannah had mentioned almost immediately. It was heavy and didn’t budge when she tried to open it. There was no buzzer, so she simply knocked.

A moment later she heard the crackle of a hidden intercom. “Password?” a man’s voice asked.

Lola stood up straight and tried to feel confident, though she knew it wasn’t going to work. She couldn’t force anyone to do anything through an intercom. She needed both visual and auditory contact. “My name is the Mind Mistress,” she said. “Let me in.”

“Not the password.”

She frowned and looked around for any clue at all. The street boasted only a cracked sidewalk and a few stacks of empty crates against one wall of the building. The stack of crates began to laugh at her. “Who’s there?” she demanded.

“Just me,” the laugh answered, and emerged from behind the crates as a compact, beady-eyed young man with off-brown hair and dirty jeans. “I’m called Ratface.”

“I can see why,” she replied. He had a sly look to his slightly pointy face.

“I’m a henchman,” he offered. “Though, out of work at the moment,” he
added.

“Well, I already have minions, I’m sorry,” she said, annoyed with the whole situation.

“Minion? Me? Never. I want cash, lady, if I’m going to be working for anyone.” He sniffed and wiped his nose with the back of one of the fingerless gloves he was wearing. She could see why he was out of work.

“Do you know the password?” she asked him hopefully.

“Well I don’t think I’d be sharing it with the likes of you, now would I?” he replied. “Who’re you anyway, Miss Mind Mistress?”

“I’m new in town,” she told him.

“I know you are. I would have noticed a chick like you.” His eyes traveled over her body.

“Stop looking at my boobs.” His chin snapped up, giving her the eye contact that she needed. “Tell me the password.”

“It’s ‘daffodil,’” he answered. “But it doesn’t matter. They wont let you in if they haven’t heard of you. Why do you think I’m sitting out here? I’m hoping to ride in on someone else’s coat tails. Instead, you show up. No bleeping help there.”

“I need to get inside,” she insisted. “There has to be a way.”

“It’s an elite club,” Ratface said. “They won’t let just anyone in, no matter how hot you are.”

Lola sighed and turned on her heels, knowing when she was beat. Ratface called after her: “Hey! You need a henchman? I’m cheap!” She rolled her eyes and kept walking.

******

It took Lawrence most of the evening to master buttoning and unbuttoning his shirt, but finally he was able to do it with little difficulty, and the Golden Swami seemed pleased with their work. “I can practically feel the talent waiting to burst out of you,” she told him. “You just have to learn to let it flow.” She used her telekinesis to lift herself up out of the chair and she floated past him and out of the room.

“Show off,” he muttered, buttoning his shirt with his actual fingers for a last time.

******

Glory sat on the floor in the hall outside the Golden Swami’s office. She’d been waiting for KP forever. All of her homework was done and packed back into her bag and she was reading a romance novel her mother had sent her, “Bethany’s Bridegroom,” when the door finally opened. Glory stared at the Swami floating down the hall, and KP trudged out behind her, looking tired and pale.

“That woman is trying to kill me,” he said, offering a hand and pulling Glory to her feet. “I have the worst migraine ever.”

“Poor baby,” she cooed, being properly concerned and giving him a tight hug. “Does she burn incense in there?” she asked him, noting a less than masculine aroma on his clothes. “You smell like flowers.”

“Um, yeah,” he said, pulling away. “Let’s go downstairs and get something to eat.”

He picked up her bag and they made their way to the lounge, empty in the late hour. KP collapsed on one of the couches while Glory sifted through the kitchen. “Pizza?” she asked, opening the freezer.

“Sounds good.”

Glory put a frozen pizza in the oven and KP sat up to make room for her on the couch. It was very quiet in the empty lounge and she was acutely aware of how alone they were. Ever since the day he had pushed her up against the lockers she had been a little nervous about being alone with him, not because she was afraid he would try to do something she didn’t want him to, but because she just hated the idea of telling him ‘no‘. “What did you learn today?” she asked.

She felt a sudden coolness at her collar and she looked down to see the top button of her lavender polo shirt had popped open. As she watched the second button worked its way out of its hole. “That is so cool,” she breathed, momentarily enthralled with the concept of being literally undressed by a man’s mind. Stupid romance novel, she cursed to herself.

Glory sat completely still as the third button came undone. The shirt was old and leaning towards too small so the collar gaped open, showing the slightest bit of cleavage. She’d worn less around KP in Romeo’s class, but this was different.

“You are so bright and beautiful and glorious,” KP said quietly, and Glory’s heart surged in her chest. She couldn’t tell him her name, but he still knew. “I wish you’d let me in.”

She bit her lower lip. “KP…I don’t believe in getting too physical unless there is a strong, loving, permanent relationship. We’re not there yet,” she said softly. “I hope we will be one day.”

He nodded, looking grim. “Okay America.”

“I understand if you don’t want to see me any more.”

“Do you really think I’m so shallow?”

She shrugged, wanting to cry. “You’re a boy. Boys want to have sex. And it’s not that I don’t--I do--I just want it to mean something.”

He gave her a hug. “Okay. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. And I’m sorry if you’ve felt pressured. I didn’t mean for you to.”

Feeling a sense of relief, Glory leaned against him. “I’m glad.”

******

A/N:
Sorry for the lateness. School is out and I dont have internet or a car, and it's been snowy. Updates might be wonky over xmas break, but they will still happen weekly. It'll just be a surprise which day.

This is my favorite chapter so far. I cackled madly while writing the end with Glory and Lawrence. And then there's the intro of Ratface, who will be important. He's named after a cat I used to have. He was cute in an ugly sort of way.

Anon: if you catch a typo go ahead and tell me. I might not be motivated enough to go fix it, but it's good to know they're there. :) Glad you like the story.