Sweet Sixteen (0/?)
It wasn't so much a dream as a memory. Not so much a nightmare, either, though it would wake him in a cold sweat.
She was standing there, in the middle of the Magic Box, not yet destroyed, as Buffy and Dawn slumped. He stood next to Anya, both of them with their jaws swinging loose. The look on Andrew and Jonathan's faces said that if they hadn't pissed themselves, it had been a near thing.
And really, there was only one thing he could do about it. She was Willow, even with the black hair and pitch eyes, she was still that. Still the girl he'd known longer than anyone or anything else. Still the girl he knew better than himself.
So who better than himself to bring her back to, well, herself?
He stepped forward, blocking her path to the two boys. He took a deep breath, not willing to admit to himself that he was scared. "Willow. You don't want to do this."
She stared at him, those black eyes not letting out even the tiniest emotions. Then her head dipped forward, like a snake. Like a vampire.
Like Vampire Willow, who lived in his nightmares since senior year of high school.
"Xander." She said it as though it was a blessing. "Xander Harris, stepping in as always. Trying so hard to defend all his little friends, most of whom are more capable of defending themselves than he is." Her smile slipped slowly from her veined face. "Xander Harris. Your life is a mess, isn't it."
He opened his mouth to reply, but she nodded before he could. Her hand stretched out to touch his chest. He couldn't have moved if he wanted to.
He was dimly aware of the others in the shop, Buffy struggling upright to. . . do what? How far would she go to stop Willow? Dawn slowly sitting up, Anya ducking backward, a book clutched in her hands.
Andrew and Jonathan bolting for the door.
Cowards. It was just Willow.
She stepped closer to him, without removing her hand. "You almost got it right, Xander. But I'll tell you what? I'll give you another chance. Then I'll go kill the nerd twins." She kissed him, softly, on the forehead, then grinned. "It'll be fun."
Pain then, flaring up in his chest and spreading faster than fire to his limbs and face. His muscles seized, freezing into clenched positions, and his scalp began to burn. His heart rate skyrocketed, his stomach collapsed in on itself, and he couldn't breath.
He couldn't close his eyes, couldn't look away from Willow's as she peered into him. He could see his own face reflected there, his own brown eyes wide in shock, his mouth held slightly open, frozen before he could even begin to scream. He watched as the flesh on his cheeks seemed to flow beneath his skin, as his skin seemed to stretch across his cheekbones, his hair pouring down his face as it grew at an astounding rate.
He could barely hear words, drifting through the air to his ears, and he struggled to catch them and hold them, to keep himself from passing out.
"Will . . . stop!"
". . . ever done . . . deserve . . . ?"
"Everything." That was Willow. He could hear her clearly, her words echoing in his inner ear. "You, of all people, Xander, deserve this. You deserve to be what I loved, not the shell you were becoming. Not your father."
". . . killing him . . ."
"Don't you see? I'm giving him a second chance!" A fist flashed across his vision, and for a moment, he lost eye contact with her, though her hand remained firmly on his chest, and the burning continued. She snarled at something to their left, her eyes flashing. "Deal with you later."
He struggled to pull in a breath, to protest what was happening. He had to stop her, bring her back to herself, but the tiny bit of air that passed through his nostrils was swallowed completely by the spell, rushing immediately to his muscles, leaving his lungs in a vacuum state. His vision started to gray around her eyes, her terrifyingly empty eyes.
When those, finally turned gray and vanished, she released him. His muscles went from steel to mercury in a moment, and he collapsed to the ground. His vision cleared as he gasped in a breath, and he caught her eyes again, staring down at him. "Done now."
He woke still gasping and flung himself to the side, still seeing the afterimage of her eyes every time he blinked. He rolled off the edge of the bed and landed on the soft carpet of the master bedroom, where he lay for a long moment, trying to find his equilibrium.
One minute later, he heard the soft click of his alarm, followed by the painfully cheerful voice of the morning DJ. He groaned in response to it.
This was the way he woke up most mornings all summer, lying on the floor still wrapped up in the sheets and blankets from the bed. The clock radio was a new addition, though, and he fought to remember why he'd set it.
A knock sounded on his door, and Dawn's voice accompanied it.
"Xander! Are you up?"
He groaned again. That was it. Willow had cursed him that day in the Magic Box, her supposedly good intentions obviously warped by the dark magic running through her. And now, now he had to live with that curse. "No!"
"Very funny! Come on, I'm done in the shower. Buffy and I have a surprise for you, so get your butt out of bed and get dressed!"
He heard her footsteps down the hall and shook his head. There was no way he was leaving this room, not for the next nine months. Possibly not for the next three years. It just wasn't fair.
Ten minutes later he was lying back on the bed, pretending he had any chance at going back to sleep. A knock sounded again, louder and more forceful this time. Buffy.
"Come on, Xander, up! We discussed this."
"I don't care, I'm not going!"
"Dammit, do you want to get me in trouble?"
That was the crux of it, wasn't it. Willow hadn't just screwed him over, she'd screwed Buffy, too. She had so much she had to deal with already, with him added right on to the top. If it weren't for the fact that Willow was already in England, doing magic rehab with Giles and the coven, he'd have had to make her life a living nightmare. Leave frogs in her bed, or something. He started debating to himself how he could get out of his ordeal with out hurting Buffy in the long run.
His decision was taken from him swiftly, however, when he realized he really, REALLY had to go to the bathroom.
He staggered out of the bedroom, blinking in the morning light streaming in from the girls' bedrooms. At least they had given him the big one, but then, how could they not? They were both settled into their rooms, and without Willow and Tara to occupy the master, it was the only one free. Still, he hated living there. Hated the fact that he couldn't go back to his apartment (wasn't his any more, he'd checked, masking his voice, a few months ago. It had rented out again very quickly). Hated pretty much everything about the whole situation. He stumbled into the bathroom, wiping the fading condensation from the mirror, and stared at his reflection.
He did this every morning.
He couldn't get over it, how much he'd changed. His face was almost narrow, his eyes almost too big to fit in it. His hair stuck out in every direction, the product of his ever restless sleep. His chest, which had been filled out by construction work and then by settled-in fat, was scrawny, his collar bones standing out starkly across his now bony shoulders. His arms were likewise thinned, and his hands, the only part of him he still recognized from three months before, seemed abnormally large on his wrists. He groaned again, another morning ritual, and put his head in his hands.
"Dammit, Willow,"
He showered quickly, not paying a great deal of attention to his leaner body, then toweled off and dressed. All of his clothes were now too large for him, but he simply belted his pants tighter, rolling up the cuffs so that they wouldn't drag too much on the floor. He pulled on one of his brightest hawaiian shirts, depending as he always had on the bright colors to cheer him up. He took a deep breath and ran a hand over the barest hint of stubble on his chin. He hadn't shaved in three days, he should, by all rights, have close to a full beard. But he knew he could get away without shaving for a few more days, and have little more than a five o'clock shadow.
He combed his hair back from his head, letting it fall over his ears and the nape of his neck. Of all the changes in his body, he supposed this was his favorite. He'd cropped his hair too short with his last haircut before the change, and found he missed the way it framed his face. The way it curled out around the edges made his face look slightly rounder, a little more like it used to. He took one last, quick look at his reflection. It was time to face the music.
In the kitchen, Dawn was eating the last of her cereal. Buffy sat behind a cup of coffee, looking only barely awake. She yawned expansively, and he remembered she'd had a late shift at DoubleMeat the night before. He grimaced. It was tough on her, having to work to support all three of them. Seemed Willow hadn't really worked that part out, either. Funny, considering all the other bases she'd covered.
Dawn rinsed out her bowl then bounded over to his side. She was much too cheerful. "You ready?"
"Not even remotely."
"Well, maybe this will help."
She held it out by the strap. It was already bulging. He took the leather messenger bag from her, his face scrunching slightly in confusion. "What's this?"
"Don't be stupid."
He opened the bag, then flinched away. It was filled with binders, notebooks, a pencil case. He grimaced.
"I can't believe I'm doing this."
"Not a lot of choice there, Xander." Buffy stood, draining hte last of her coffee. "Come on, you're going to be late."
"Oh yes." Xander slung the bag over his shoulder. "Wouldn't want to be late to my first day of school. . . ."
With that he pulled out his car keys (at least she hadn't changed his licence, other than the picture and the birthdate), and the two teenagers proceeded Buffy out the door.
* * *
"Still not sure I understand what all the fuss is about." Dawn lead the way into the newly rebuilt high school. "I mean, yeah, it's on a hellmouth, but you survived four years here before, why is it so bad to be back now?"
Xander grimaced. "It's not just the hellmouth, Dawn." The newly sixteen year old boy scanned the hallways, filled with bustling, excited students. "HIGH SCHOOL is hell. Sunnydale just has an extra helping. I cannot believe I have to do this again."
"Relax." Dawn wrapped an arm around his shoulder. They were nearly the same height now, Xander's last growth spurt, if things went about the way they had before, was another couple months away. "You know all the tricks. This should be simple."
Xander pulled away from her. "Maybe it would have been, you just jinxed it."
"Did not,"
"Did too,"
"Did not,"
"Did too-" Xander scanned his schedule. They had spent half the summer trying to put it together, figure out what classes he could handle. He was in a slightly advanced English class, that being one of his few halfway decent classes when he'd first attended, first year Latin, since he could already read it pretty well, on level math, social studies, and science, wood shop and- he sucked in a breath. Gym. "Oh god. I couldn't have at least managed to avoid PE? I hate PE."
Dawn peered over her shoulder. "Well, we're in English and Latin together, and we have the same lunch. Oh, and I have gym that period too. See? It'll be okay. I'll help you."
Xander felt a small pang. Willow had used to encourage him in a similar way. Figures that Dawn would be just as willing to take poor, stupid Xander under her wing. "Thanks, but I still say I should just drop out. I've already graduated."
"Not any more." Dawn grinned. "Come on, this is an adventure."
"Can I just get my GED?"
"Hey." Dawn crossed her arms. "Willow wanted this to be a second chance for you. You are NOT going to ruin it by trying to get out early. You can really turn your life around here. Maybe even go to college."
"Dawn, you don't understand." Xander ran a hand through his hair. "I didn't NEED second chance. Sure, I slipped up here and there, but I had a great job. I was making more money than anyone else I knew. Why would I want to go to college?"
"You could be an architect?"
Xander blinked. He hadn't thought of that. Design, then build his own buildings? That did sound pretty neat. He shook his head. "Don't try to cheer me up."
Dawn growled in frustration. "Come on. We have Gym first period."
"Oh. Joy."
He slouched after her toward the locker rooms.
* * *
They hadn't even managed to get him a decent sized set of gym clothes. The sweat pants were okay, a little bit loose, considering he'd mis-calculated and ordered his old size, but the shirt . . . . Something about having run out of extra large. And large. Also, medium. He had to struggle into a small sized gym shirt, the Sunnydale high logo stretching almost obscenely across his narrow chest. He tugged futilely at it, as the students around him laughed and traded stories of summer conquests. Most of them were lies, and Xander didn't join in. He hadn't exactly been the ladies man (boy) this summer, but the times he'd had with Anya? All true, not that a single person here would believe him. Instead he just dressed as quickly as he could, opting to tie his sneakers once they were actually in the gym.
The basketball hoops were lowered, and the coach, fortunately not the same one who had taught Xander's first time around, was tossing out balls and dividing the class into teams. Gym. The one place where they never bothered to give you the first day off, didn't worry about "getting to know you" games, or figuring out what level everyone was on. They simply threw you in. If you sank, well, that was your own damned problem.
Xander was actually a decent basketball player. Not stellar by any means, but good enough not to make a fool out of himself. Well, he had been when he'd been six inches taller and not still trying to get used to a new body. He caught the ball from the coach, then fumbled slightly as it tried to slip from his hands. He recovered by passing it off to a tall, blonde jock-looking kid and started jogging down the court.
At first it seemed like this gym class wouldn't be too bad. The boys, not knowing him from their previous school, were willing to give him just a little bit of a chance, testing him out to see if he would fit in their social circle. That was the advantage of being new, no one had any preconceived notions about what a loser you were. They passed him the ball, waiting to see how he would do. Xander tossed a quick lay up, then grimaced when it swirled the ring half-way and tipped back out.
Blondie slapped his shoulder on the way by. "Not bad, but the ball goes IN the hoop."
"Yeah, thanks." Xander tried to grin. "I always forget that part."
Blondie and his buddies laughed, and Xander started to relax. Maybe he COULD do this.
He jogged back down the court, then slipped on a long shoe-lace. Someone slammed into him from behind, and he toppled gracelessly to the hardwood floor.
He rolled over onto his stomach to push himself up, trying not to check and see if anyone was laughing. It was better just to ignore these things, right? He felt a joke spring to his lips, self-efacing and cynical, and smiled. The old instincts were coming back.
A foot slammed down on his back between his shoulder blades, as Blondie used his position to give himself a leg up on the hoop. The jock soared through the air as Xander flopped back to the floor, all the breath leaving his lungs in a powerful *whoosh*. Blondie got a slam dunk. Xander got to curl up on the floor and try to get his breath back.
The other boys on his court started laughing, loudly. Xander winced, still gasping, and tried to force his feet under him.
"Thanks, man!" Blondie grinned at him, his eyes dark. "Maybe you'll be some use to us after all."
Xander glared at him, wondering if the coach would step in. He wasn't surprised to note that said authority figure was completely ignoring the entire scene.
The same could not be said for the girls on the other side of the gym. Several of them began giggling, twisting their hips in hopes of getting Blondie's attention. Dawn turned, help up a hand to her team, and ran over to help Xander up.
"You okay?"
"Peachy" Xander forced the word out through his teeth, then gasped again. His back throbbed. "Just like I remember it."
"Hey, Summers, leave the loser be." Blondie stepped up to Dawn's side. "Newb's found his place, is all."
"Shut up, Ivan, or I'll give you teeth to match your redneck brain."
"Dawn," Xander managed to lever himself upright. "It's okay."
"It is not! That was rude, mean, and downright stupid! You could have really hurt him!"
Ivan sneered. "Looks like someone is planning to climb down the totem pole. What is this doofus to you, Summers?"
"He's my friend, asshole." Dawn surged forward and smacked the jock across the face. "And I won't let you walk all over him."
Xander forced back a snicker. That pun was fully intended, he was sure. "Dawn, really, I can handle this-"
"No! This is how you do it, Xander, you have to stand up for yourself." Dawn's arm swung out again, smacking the other side of Ivan's face. "Now apologise!"
Ivan's face was dark, not counting the bright red of both his cheeks from Dawn's palm. "If I didn't have a thing against hitting girls-"
"Oh, that's real nice of you. Really chivalrous." Xander had made it to his feet now, his anger starting to boil. He was too old for this. "Original, too. Must be why you're still a virgin."
Ivan's fist swung at his face, but Xander hadn't spent seven years fighting vampires without learning anything. He dodged the blow easily, struggling to keep from hitting back. "That all you got?"
"Loser needs another lesson!" Ivan lunged forward. Xander brought his knee up, catching him in the stomach and sending him to the floor. He placed a foot on the jock's back, smirking darkly.
"No thanks, already learned that one."
The coach's whistle blew. Now he was paying attention.
* * *
Dawn glared at the door to the main office. "This is total crap."
"It is." Xander shrugged, reaching for the door handle.
"I mean, that ass could have really hurt you out there! And you're the one they send to the office? What the hell?"
"Precisely." Xander sighed heavily. "Don't you get it? That's what this is. That's the way high school has ALWAYS worked, Dawn. People like me? We get spat on, stepped on, and then get detention. They punish the victims, let the perpetrators go free. Now do you see why I didn't want to come back?"
Dawn glowered. "It's not right."
"Not even a little."
The bell rang, letting the students know they had three minutes to get to their next class. Xander smiled slightly. "Hey, it's getting me out of math, though."
Dawn's face softened. "I gotta go. You really okay?"
Xander rolled his eyes. "I'm fine, Dawn. I survived Snyder, didn't I? No way this guy is any worse."
Dawn smiled. "Yeah. I'll see you in English next period, okay?"
"Sure."
She hugged him swiftly, then moved back into the throng of students. Xander swallowed. He was full of bravado in front of his friend, but the idea of a new principle terrified him. A total unknown quantity. Would he be more Flutie, or was there really such thing as a principle worse than Snyder?
She was standing there, in the middle of the Magic Box, not yet destroyed, as Buffy and Dawn slumped. He stood next to Anya, both of them with their jaws swinging loose. The look on Andrew and Jonathan's faces said that if they hadn't pissed themselves, it had been a near thing.
And really, there was only one thing he could do about it. She was Willow, even with the black hair and pitch eyes, she was still that. Still the girl he'd known longer than anyone or anything else. Still the girl he knew better than himself.
So who better than himself to bring her back to, well, herself?
He stepped forward, blocking her path to the two boys. He took a deep breath, not willing to admit to himself that he was scared. "Willow. You don't want to do this."
She stared at him, those black eyes not letting out even the tiniest emotions. Then her head dipped forward, like a snake. Like a vampire.
Like Vampire Willow, who lived in his nightmares since senior year of high school.
"Xander." She said it as though it was a blessing. "Xander Harris, stepping in as always. Trying so hard to defend all his little friends, most of whom are more capable of defending themselves than he is." Her smile slipped slowly from her veined face. "Xander Harris. Your life is a mess, isn't it."
He opened his mouth to reply, but she nodded before he could. Her hand stretched out to touch his chest. He couldn't have moved if he wanted to.
He was dimly aware of the others in the shop, Buffy struggling upright to. . . do what? How far would she go to stop Willow? Dawn slowly sitting up, Anya ducking backward, a book clutched in her hands.
Andrew and Jonathan bolting for the door.
Cowards. It was just Willow.
She stepped closer to him, without removing her hand. "You almost got it right, Xander. But I'll tell you what? I'll give you another chance. Then I'll go kill the nerd twins." She kissed him, softly, on the forehead, then grinned. "It'll be fun."
Pain then, flaring up in his chest and spreading faster than fire to his limbs and face. His muscles seized, freezing into clenched positions, and his scalp began to burn. His heart rate skyrocketed, his stomach collapsed in on itself, and he couldn't breath.
He couldn't close his eyes, couldn't look away from Willow's as she peered into him. He could see his own face reflected there, his own brown eyes wide in shock, his mouth held slightly open, frozen before he could even begin to scream. He watched as the flesh on his cheeks seemed to flow beneath his skin, as his skin seemed to stretch across his cheekbones, his hair pouring down his face as it grew at an astounding rate.
He could barely hear words, drifting through the air to his ears, and he struggled to catch them and hold them, to keep himself from passing out.
"Will . . . stop!"
". . . ever done . . . deserve . . . ?"
"Everything." That was Willow. He could hear her clearly, her words echoing in his inner ear. "You, of all people, Xander, deserve this. You deserve to be what I loved, not the shell you were becoming. Not your father."
". . . killing him . . ."
"Don't you see? I'm giving him a second chance!" A fist flashed across his vision, and for a moment, he lost eye contact with her, though her hand remained firmly on his chest, and the burning continued. She snarled at something to their left, her eyes flashing. "Deal with you later."
He struggled to pull in a breath, to protest what was happening. He had to stop her, bring her back to herself, but the tiny bit of air that passed through his nostrils was swallowed completely by the spell, rushing immediately to his muscles, leaving his lungs in a vacuum state. His vision started to gray around her eyes, her terrifyingly empty eyes.
When those, finally turned gray and vanished, she released him. His muscles went from steel to mercury in a moment, and he collapsed to the ground. His vision cleared as he gasped in a breath, and he caught her eyes again, staring down at him. "Done now."
He woke still gasping and flung himself to the side, still seeing the afterimage of her eyes every time he blinked. He rolled off the edge of the bed and landed on the soft carpet of the master bedroom, where he lay for a long moment, trying to find his equilibrium.
One minute later, he heard the soft click of his alarm, followed by the painfully cheerful voice of the morning DJ. He groaned in response to it.
This was the way he woke up most mornings all summer, lying on the floor still wrapped up in the sheets and blankets from the bed. The clock radio was a new addition, though, and he fought to remember why he'd set it.
A knock sounded on his door, and Dawn's voice accompanied it.
"Xander! Are you up?"
He groaned again. That was it. Willow had cursed him that day in the Magic Box, her supposedly good intentions obviously warped by the dark magic running through her. And now, now he had to live with that curse. "No!"
"Very funny! Come on, I'm done in the shower. Buffy and I have a surprise for you, so get your butt out of bed and get dressed!"
He heard her footsteps down the hall and shook his head. There was no way he was leaving this room, not for the next nine months. Possibly not for the next three years. It just wasn't fair.
Ten minutes later he was lying back on the bed, pretending he had any chance at going back to sleep. A knock sounded again, louder and more forceful this time. Buffy.
"Come on, Xander, up! We discussed this."
"I don't care, I'm not going!"
"Dammit, do you want to get me in trouble?"
That was the crux of it, wasn't it. Willow hadn't just screwed him over, she'd screwed Buffy, too. She had so much she had to deal with already, with him added right on to the top. If it weren't for the fact that Willow was already in England, doing magic rehab with Giles and the coven, he'd have had to make her life a living nightmare. Leave frogs in her bed, or something. He started debating to himself how he could get out of his ordeal with out hurting Buffy in the long run.
His decision was taken from him swiftly, however, when he realized he really, REALLY had to go to the bathroom.
He staggered out of the bedroom, blinking in the morning light streaming in from the girls' bedrooms. At least they had given him the big one, but then, how could they not? They were both settled into their rooms, and without Willow and Tara to occupy the master, it was the only one free. Still, he hated living there. Hated the fact that he couldn't go back to his apartment (wasn't his any more, he'd checked, masking his voice, a few months ago. It had rented out again very quickly). Hated pretty much everything about the whole situation. He stumbled into the bathroom, wiping the fading condensation from the mirror, and stared at his reflection.
He did this every morning.
He couldn't get over it, how much he'd changed. His face was almost narrow, his eyes almost too big to fit in it. His hair stuck out in every direction, the product of his ever restless sleep. His chest, which had been filled out by construction work and then by settled-in fat, was scrawny, his collar bones standing out starkly across his now bony shoulders. His arms were likewise thinned, and his hands, the only part of him he still recognized from three months before, seemed abnormally large on his wrists. He groaned again, another morning ritual, and put his head in his hands.
"Dammit, Willow,"
He showered quickly, not paying a great deal of attention to his leaner body, then toweled off and dressed. All of his clothes were now too large for him, but he simply belted his pants tighter, rolling up the cuffs so that they wouldn't drag too much on the floor. He pulled on one of his brightest hawaiian shirts, depending as he always had on the bright colors to cheer him up. He took a deep breath and ran a hand over the barest hint of stubble on his chin. He hadn't shaved in three days, he should, by all rights, have close to a full beard. But he knew he could get away without shaving for a few more days, and have little more than a five o'clock shadow.
He combed his hair back from his head, letting it fall over his ears and the nape of his neck. Of all the changes in his body, he supposed this was his favorite. He'd cropped his hair too short with his last haircut before the change, and found he missed the way it framed his face. The way it curled out around the edges made his face look slightly rounder, a little more like it used to. He took one last, quick look at his reflection. It was time to face the music.
In the kitchen, Dawn was eating the last of her cereal. Buffy sat behind a cup of coffee, looking only barely awake. She yawned expansively, and he remembered she'd had a late shift at DoubleMeat the night before. He grimaced. It was tough on her, having to work to support all three of them. Seemed Willow hadn't really worked that part out, either. Funny, considering all the other bases she'd covered.
Dawn rinsed out her bowl then bounded over to his side. She was much too cheerful. "You ready?"
"Not even remotely."
"Well, maybe this will help."
She held it out by the strap. It was already bulging. He took the leather messenger bag from her, his face scrunching slightly in confusion. "What's this?"
"Don't be stupid."
He opened the bag, then flinched away. It was filled with binders, notebooks, a pencil case. He grimaced.
"I can't believe I'm doing this."
"Not a lot of choice there, Xander." Buffy stood, draining hte last of her coffee. "Come on, you're going to be late."
"Oh yes." Xander slung the bag over his shoulder. "Wouldn't want to be late to my first day of school. . . ."
With that he pulled out his car keys (at least she hadn't changed his licence, other than the picture and the birthdate), and the two teenagers proceeded Buffy out the door.
* * *
"Still not sure I understand what all the fuss is about." Dawn lead the way into the newly rebuilt high school. "I mean, yeah, it's on a hellmouth, but you survived four years here before, why is it so bad to be back now?"
Xander grimaced. "It's not just the hellmouth, Dawn." The newly sixteen year old boy scanned the hallways, filled with bustling, excited students. "HIGH SCHOOL is hell. Sunnydale just has an extra helping. I cannot believe I have to do this again."
"Relax." Dawn wrapped an arm around his shoulder. They were nearly the same height now, Xander's last growth spurt, if things went about the way they had before, was another couple months away. "You know all the tricks. This should be simple."
Xander pulled away from her. "Maybe it would have been, you just jinxed it."
"Did not,"
"Did too,"
"Did not,"
"Did too-" Xander scanned his schedule. They had spent half the summer trying to put it together, figure out what classes he could handle. He was in a slightly advanced English class, that being one of his few halfway decent classes when he'd first attended, first year Latin, since he could already read it pretty well, on level math, social studies, and science, wood shop and- he sucked in a breath. Gym. "Oh god. I couldn't have at least managed to avoid PE? I hate PE."
Dawn peered over her shoulder. "Well, we're in English and Latin together, and we have the same lunch. Oh, and I have gym that period too. See? It'll be okay. I'll help you."
Xander felt a small pang. Willow had used to encourage him in a similar way. Figures that Dawn would be just as willing to take poor, stupid Xander under her wing. "Thanks, but I still say I should just drop out. I've already graduated."
"Not any more." Dawn grinned. "Come on, this is an adventure."
"Can I just get my GED?"
"Hey." Dawn crossed her arms. "Willow wanted this to be a second chance for you. You are NOT going to ruin it by trying to get out early. You can really turn your life around here. Maybe even go to college."
"Dawn, you don't understand." Xander ran a hand through his hair. "I didn't NEED second chance. Sure, I slipped up here and there, but I had a great job. I was making more money than anyone else I knew. Why would I want to go to college?"
"You could be an architect?"
Xander blinked. He hadn't thought of that. Design, then build his own buildings? That did sound pretty neat. He shook his head. "Don't try to cheer me up."
Dawn growled in frustration. "Come on. We have Gym first period."
"Oh. Joy."
He slouched after her toward the locker rooms.
* * *
They hadn't even managed to get him a decent sized set of gym clothes. The sweat pants were okay, a little bit loose, considering he'd mis-calculated and ordered his old size, but the shirt . . . . Something about having run out of extra large. And large. Also, medium. He had to struggle into a small sized gym shirt, the Sunnydale high logo stretching almost obscenely across his narrow chest. He tugged futilely at it, as the students around him laughed and traded stories of summer conquests. Most of them were lies, and Xander didn't join in. He hadn't exactly been the ladies man (boy) this summer, but the times he'd had with Anya? All true, not that a single person here would believe him. Instead he just dressed as quickly as he could, opting to tie his sneakers once they were actually in the gym.
The basketball hoops were lowered, and the coach, fortunately not the same one who had taught Xander's first time around, was tossing out balls and dividing the class into teams. Gym. The one place where they never bothered to give you the first day off, didn't worry about "getting to know you" games, or figuring out what level everyone was on. They simply threw you in. If you sank, well, that was your own damned problem.
Xander was actually a decent basketball player. Not stellar by any means, but good enough not to make a fool out of himself. Well, he had been when he'd been six inches taller and not still trying to get used to a new body. He caught the ball from the coach, then fumbled slightly as it tried to slip from his hands. He recovered by passing it off to a tall, blonde jock-looking kid and started jogging down the court.
At first it seemed like this gym class wouldn't be too bad. The boys, not knowing him from their previous school, were willing to give him just a little bit of a chance, testing him out to see if he would fit in their social circle. That was the advantage of being new, no one had any preconceived notions about what a loser you were. They passed him the ball, waiting to see how he would do. Xander tossed a quick lay up, then grimaced when it swirled the ring half-way and tipped back out.
Blondie slapped his shoulder on the way by. "Not bad, but the ball goes IN the hoop."
"Yeah, thanks." Xander tried to grin. "I always forget that part."
Blondie and his buddies laughed, and Xander started to relax. Maybe he COULD do this.
He jogged back down the court, then slipped on a long shoe-lace. Someone slammed into him from behind, and he toppled gracelessly to the hardwood floor.
He rolled over onto his stomach to push himself up, trying not to check and see if anyone was laughing. It was better just to ignore these things, right? He felt a joke spring to his lips, self-efacing and cynical, and smiled. The old instincts were coming back.
A foot slammed down on his back between his shoulder blades, as Blondie used his position to give himself a leg up on the hoop. The jock soared through the air as Xander flopped back to the floor, all the breath leaving his lungs in a powerful *whoosh*. Blondie got a slam dunk. Xander got to curl up on the floor and try to get his breath back.
The other boys on his court started laughing, loudly. Xander winced, still gasping, and tried to force his feet under him.
"Thanks, man!" Blondie grinned at him, his eyes dark. "Maybe you'll be some use to us after all."
Xander glared at him, wondering if the coach would step in. He wasn't surprised to note that said authority figure was completely ignoring the entire scene.
The same could not be said for the girls on the other side of the gym. Several of them began giggling, twisting their hips in hopes of getting Blondie's attention. Dawn turned, help up a hand to her team, and ran over to help Xander up.
"You okay?"
"Peachy" Xander forced the word out through his teeth, then gasped again. His back throbbed. "Just like I remember it."
"Hey, Summers, leave the loser be." Blondie stepped up to Dawn's side. "Newb's found his place, is all."
"Shut up, Ivan, or I'll give you teeth to match your redneck brain."
"Dawn," Xander managed to lever himself upright. "It's okay."
"It is not! That was rude, mean, and downright stupid! You could have really hurt him!"
Ivan sneered. "Looks like someone is planning to climb down the totem pole. What is this doofus to you, Summers?"
"He's my friend, asshole." Dawn surged forward and smacked the jock across the face. "And I won't let you walk all over him."
Xander forced back a snicker. That pun was fully intended, he was sure. "Dawn, really, I can handle this-"
"No! This is how you do it, Xander, you have to stand up for yourself." Dawn's arm swung out again, smacking the other side of Ivan's face. "Now apologise!"
Ivan's face was dark, not counting the bright red of both his cheeks from Dawn's palm. "If I didn't have a thing against hitting girls-"
"Oh, that's real nice of you. Really chivalrous." Xander had made it to his feet now, his anger starting to boil. He was too old for this. "Original, too. Must be why you're still a virgin."
Ivan's fist swung at his face, but Xander hadn't spent seven years fighting vampires without learning anything. He dodged the blow easily, struggling to keep from hitting back. "That all you got?"
"Loser needs another lesson!" Ivan lunged forward. Xander brought his knee up, catching him in the stomach and sending him to the floor. He placed a foot on the jock's back, smirking darkly.
"No thanks, already learned that one."
The coach's whistle blew. Now he was paying attention.
* * *
Dawn glared at the door to the main office. "This is total crap."
"It is." Xander shrugged, reaching for the door handle.
"I mean, that ass could have really hurt you out there! And you're the one they send to the office? What the hell?"
"Precisely." Xander sighed heavily. "Don't you get it? That's what this is. That's the way high school has ALWAYS worked, Dawn. People like me? We get spat on, stepped on, and then get detention. They punish the victims, let the perpetrators go free. Now do you see why I didn't want to come back?"
Dawn glowered. "It's not right."
"Not even a little."
The bell rang, letting the students know they had three minutes to get to their next class. Xander smiled slightly. "Hey, it's getting me out of math, though."
Dawn's face softened. "I gotta go. You really okay?"
Xander rolled his eyes. "I'm fine, Dawn. I survived Snyder, didn't I? No way this guy is any worse."
Dawn smiled. "Yeah. I'll see you in English next period, okay?"
"Sure."
She hugged him swiftly, then moved back into the throng of students. Xander swallowed. He was full of bravado in front of his friend, but the idea of a new principle terrified him. A total unknown quantity. Would he be more Flutie, or was there really such thing as a principle worse than Snyder?