Chapter 20 : The longest day of my life (Smexy girl)

 

In class, Midtown High, Queens, New York, 25th of January, 13:21

 

For the first time since Wednesday, I am back in class.

 

And I am mindnumblingly bored.

 

I am not alone sharing the sentiment, since Gwen’s eyes are shifting all over the place, her mind next to me thinking at a bazillion things simultaneously all the time, a lot of those I suspect not to be related to Ms. Prattson’s math lesson.

 

Her attitude hadn’t been missed by the boringly prickly teacher and her dogged determination in making all of us enemies of numbers for life, and she had tried to put her on the spot a few times since the beginning of the class.

 

It didn’t go quite as expected since Gwennie already had the answer on her lips after barely a tenth of a second each time Ms. Prattson tried another ambush.

 

The teacher was hiding it well, but she was stewing.

 

I want to sigh audibly.

 

The little of her surface thoughts I am inadvertently catching on weren’t ‘restore my faith in humanity’ materials. She was basically getting off on humiliating everyone with her superior mastery of her chosen field, which may explain why she made absolutely no effort to be a paragon of pedagogy.

 

That would have been counterproductive of her self-perpetual ego-stroking.

 

I lightly drop a hand onto Gwen’s thighs to draw her attention.

 

She, of course, instantly reacts by volt-facing in my direction, cheeks reddening.

 

Right, maybe not the best move.

 

“I’m going to teach you how to meditate,” I whisper to her as quietly as I can, my hand leaving its unwillingly provoking spot, “You are too scattered right now, you need to be able to relax in normal everyday situation or you’re going to blow a fuse.”

 

My statement makes her pause for a beat, but she quickly gives me a light nod.

 

“I don’t get it,” she whispers back, “I was always good at math, but those seems stupidly easy now. When you factor in how I experience everything around…”

 

“Magical BS.” I mutter quietly, “You having enhanced reflexes means that you suddenly have both the time to see things coming and the know-how to avoid dangers in the most optimal way. If time equals your brain running on overdrive, then avoiding dangers equals an instinctive understanding of the vectors of movements around you which makes you…”

 

“Better at math.” We both answer under our breath.

 

I nod lightly, still pretending to give Ms. Prattson the attention she does not deserve.

 

“Exactly,” I whisper as a little smile grace the corners of my lips, my curls waving back and forth to follow my head’s motion, “Your magically enhanced noggin’ makes the leap of logic in your stead, skipping a great number of steps between the problem and how to resolve it. And since everything around us can be more or less reduced to a mathematical equation, especially movement, you’re ‘mathing’ better and faster.”

 

“Incredible…” She mutters under her breath, more to herself than as a proper answer.

 

A beat passes as the droning of Ms. Prattson returns to be the only thing distracting me from the scratching of pencils on paper.

 

“I could become the best biologist there is…” Gwen mutters aloud, making my attention snap back to her once again.

 

“You totally could.” I answer lightly, still whispering, “Or physicist, or geneticist, you name it.”

 

I pause as I watch the realization not-so-slowly dawning on her.

 

“And absolutely should,” I carry on discreetly, “It’s not because you can cave in a man’s skull with your bare hands now that it’s all you’re capable of. You, and Cindy by extension, can potentially revolutionize your chosen field of study.”

 

I take a quarter of a turn on my chair to look her in the eyes.

 

“The fact is that if you do not focus your attention on something mentally challenging in your downtime, all that mental acuity is going to turn on something else, and too much free time thinking means that at some point you’ll be the center of those thoughts.” I whisper to her as she listen with rapt attention, “Do you know what is the likiest results in that case ?”

 

“Depression.” She answers under her breath without hesitation.

 

“About right.” I confirm her prognosis quietly, “There are records of spider-totemites being plagued by it for years because they didn’t use their overactive brains while they weren’t fighting for their lives.”

 

E-616 Peter Parker, I’m talking about your sorry ass.

 

“So, learn to relax and find something to focus your attention on, Gwennie.” I whisper to her in conclusion.

 

She nods assent while attempting to fake being interested by what our math teacher is prattling about.

 

Another moment passes as I attempt valiantly to do the same.

 

“You’ll teach me how to meditate ?” Gwen asks anew, voice lilting a little at the end.

 

“I will.” I promise quitely, watching her in the corner of my eyes.

 

A little smile blossoms on her lips.

 

As she mutters something that suspiciously ressemble a ‘I cannot wait’ under her breath, Iris chuckles on the mind-link.

 

I refrain myself from groaning as I realize I walked right into that one.

 

***

In class, Midtown High, Queens, New York, the same day, 16:00

 

As the bell rings, signaling the end of the last period, I raise my head toward the ceiling and mutter a silent thank.

 

I know I’m bitching for nothing, but my head definitely hadn’t been into studying this afternoon and staying put had been almost unbearable.

 

Iris, sensible to my displeasure after our action-packed morning, had been the cutest afterward, mentally hugging and soothing me for the better part of the afternoon.

 

I think that she has been the sole reason I’ve refrained myself from just leaving the school grounds altogether due to sheer boredom and annoyance.

 

Her and the girls maybe. I cannot really allow myself to slip into bad habits if I have to pass as a healthy role-model for the three heroines to be.

 

The fact remains that the classes hadn’t been particularly challenging and I cannot tune out the endless mental prattle surrounding me.

 

The last part is really the cherry on the cake. I’ve made my best to exclude myself from the endless teenage drama surrounding me, and now, I cannot ignore it even if I want to.

 

For the sake of my sanity, I have to find a solution to my permanent eavesdropping.

 

Fast.

 

“I’ll have to enlist Flashy’s help, I think.” I mutter aloud as I pretend to put away my stuff into my ‘tote bag’.

 

Iris is a treasure, she told me this morning that she’ll handle my school stuff from now on and we could play pretend with her designing me cute purses and other things.

 

I cannot wait!

 

“Penny for your thoughts ?” Asks a smilling Gwen as she steps next to me on our way out of the class.

 

I throw her a look.

 

“The endless mental prattle about who’s going out with whom, how much this teacher is lame, to which porn videos someone should get off tonight and so on, is slowly driving me insane.” I answer plainly.

 

She sputters.

 

I roll my eyes theatrically, smirking a bit.

 

“There really people thinking about that during classes ?” She hisses under her breath, a little shocked.

 

“Trust me, before yesterday I hadn't a single clue either how mind numbing, and occasionally disgusting, the standard teenager’s thoughts could be.” I deadpan.

 

I rub my eyes with my palms.

 

“I need to find a solution to filter those or I’m going to snap at some point.” I admit under my breath.

 

Gwen looks at me, a little googly eyed.

 

“I thought I had it rough, but…” She considers me, shivering a bit.

 

“It’s nothing that training cannot solve in the long run,” I explain plainly as we reach our lockers, “But I need something to cope in the meantime.”

 

She stares at me archingly.

 

“You have an idea.” She confidently states.

 

This girl…

 

I shake my head slightly in amusement, curls dancing around me.

 

“Flashy may be able to cobble something for me that will help. I’m not entirely certain.” I answer with a little smile.

 

Gwen’s head tilts slightly, considering.

 

“You never told us what he was capable of now.” She points out.

 

“He has become an extremely powerful cyberpath : he can talk to machines, merge with them and disassemble/reassemble them. Unless you suddenly teleport him to the back end of the Amazonia, without any pieces of tech nearby, he is nearly all powerful and unkillable.” I answer as I forage in my locker, putting away a few things.

 

When I look back at her, Gwen’s mouth is forming a little o of surprise as I close my locker.

 

While leaning on it, I carry on nonplussed.

 

“Of course, the better the technology, the better his power is. So, he will ultimately have to learn to design his own, one that fits his power the best.”

 

I bring a hand face up.

 

“There’s another one like him who used extraterrestrial technology to pass himself as a god out there, and I’d wager that he can one up him if he puts enough work in it.” I continue, eyes half-lidded in mirth.

 

And I’m going to make damn sure he does.

 

“Which shouldn’t be that hard since Flashy now can up his brain power by literally plugging computer chips in it and somehow making it work.” I snort.

 

“As I’ve said to Liz’ earlier, he has become rather determined. He’ll succeed eventually.” I end up as I straighten up.

 

Gwen slowly nods as she steps next to me again, the both of us making our way towards the school’s exit.

 

"And how could he help solve your problem ? Technology ?" She asks.

 

"Essentially." I answer with a light smile while looking at her, "Not really high-tech either, I basically need something that acts the exact opposite way a Faraday cage would for my mind."

 

She scrunches her nose cutely and I feel a bit of heat rising to my cheeks.

 

That girl is dangerous.

 

"How can it help ? I do not understand." She admits in askance.

 

"Well, firstly what is telepathy ?" I ask her.

 

"The capacity to read minds ?" She answers unsure.

 

"Correct, but not only. A good telepath can also suggest things to another's mind. And a VERY good telepath can do whatever they want with them, like convince you permanently that you are a chicken and always were one for example." I start.

 

She pales a little.

 

"But I digress. Now, how can someone remotely influence another's mind ?" I ask her archingly.

 

She ponders for a short beat.

 

"The brain ?" She mutters, right hand holding her chin and left arm under her chest.

 

Gah! Why does she have to take a smexy girl pose when she thinks ?

 

"[Amusement, mirth]."

 

Mentally swatting Iris, I answer her non sequitur.

 

"Exactly. As long as the target isn't in the Astral plane, a telepath does not influence the mind per se, but its vessel, the brain. Or it just so happens that our noggin functions with a whole lot of bioelectricity." I wink at her.

 

Gwen's eyes flashes with understanding.

 

"I see. Telepathy is the capacity to communicate with and redirect those bioelectrical currents then ?" She asks.

 

"As a layman's guess, it is close enough to the truth to warrant ten points to Gryffondor, Gwendolyn Stacy." I declare with mock-grandeur, brushing an imaginary beard.

 

She chuckles.

 

"If my brain is surrounded by the exact opposite of a Faraday cage, then all the thingamajig that it emits to read and tamper with everyone around will be held in." I elaborate.

 

"At least that's the theory. I don't even know for sure if it'll work but at this stage I'm grasping at straws." I sigh.

 

Gwen glares at me a little.

 

"Is it worth endangering yourself, or incurring potential side-effects ?" She asks a little forcefully.

 

I wince.

 

"No it isn't." I answer slowly, "But my sister will be able to immediately tell if something's wrong with me, so I will have at worst lost some time."

 

She hmms at that, unconvinced.

 

"When are you going to introduce her anyway ?" Gwen asks, eyes narrowed.

 

The corner of my lips curls up a little.

 

"Soon, I promise. Maybe when we do our first meet and greet of our little club ? I'm unsure." I answer easily.

 

She arches an eyebrow in my direction.

 

"Curious much ?" I tease.

 

"Curious very much." Gwen answers, eyes avoiding mine.

 

I laugh under my hand.

 

"Are you jealous that Cindy met her first ?" I continue relentlessly, head tilted.

 

She hmphs at that, then, faster than I can react, steps closer to me and snakes her arm in mine.

 

"Yes, I am." She answers shamelessly, "So if you do not want me to be all pouty at you, you're going to say nothing as we stay like that for a while." She says with eyes filled with happiness and mirth.

 

I refrain myself from groaning audibly, surrendering my arm's freedom while pretending very hard that I do not feel her breasts as they lightly press against me.

 

"[Schadenfreude]."

 

"Shush, you." I snap on the mind-link, more peeved at myself for being outfoxed by a teenager than anything else.

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