New Feeling - Chapter One

"I-We'll miss you, Lady."

These words were fresh in Lady Johnson's mind as she stared out the window of the U-Haul, watching the bright blue sky melt into a pale yellow-orange and green signs that passed by way too fast for her to read. She wasn't sure how to feel at the moment. She wasn't sure if it was okay for her to feel anything right now. Her father dropped the news that he was tired of moving around and ready to retire months ago. Late last year actually. That would've been fine and dandy with Lady, in fact, it gave her a lot of hope. If he was tired, then that would mean they were going to stay in Cross World City, right?

That was apparently not the case.

Her father, Dr. Ian Johnson, decided he wanted to settle in Angel Grove. As soon as possible. Couldn't wait until she graduated. Couldn't even wait until this school year was over. Ian needed to be there as soon as possible. Lady and her friends be damned.

Allegedly, it was the place he met her mother twenty-something years ago. Why he would want to live there of all places, especially under those circumstances, was lost on her. At least Angel Grove was in the same state as Cross World City. "Just a few hours away. If she got her full license, she can go visit during breaks!" Apparently.

The whole situation simply never felt real. It didn't feel real when Ian had dropped the news. It didn't feel real when she told her friends. It didn't feel real when she had packed the very last box or when the For Sale sign showed up on their front lawn. Not even as they drove down the Californian high way, Cross World City fading further into the horizon behind them. Lady had expected, or hoped if she was being completely honest for once, that out of the blue, her dad would laugh and reveal that it was all a big joke with balloons falling from the ceiling. But the big reveal never came.

The chances of that happening now were clearly nonexistent.

"You wanna put in one of your Talking Heads tapes, Little Lady?"

She shrugged.

"C'mon, talk to me."

She rolled her shoulders and slumped further into the seat. Her gaze went everywhere but his direction before settling on the locket around her neck, her thumbnail opening it only for her to close it then open it again. She kicked off her tacky suede clogs—why did she even keep these, she hated them— then propped her bare feet up on the dashboard. Her hazel eyes flickered from her locket to her feet. The sight of her sloppily painted toes wiggling in the air made her frown.

"Kaitlin... you suck," Lady said, trying not to laugh as she pulled her feet off of the blonde's lap.

Kaitlin scoffed, making a show of screwing the metallic purple nail polish bottle shut and 'slamming' it onto the nightstand. "I'm sorry that my painting skills aren't up to your standards, Milady."

Lady snorted as she tried to turn around and place her feet onto the mattress without rubbing them the wrong way and getting nail polish everywhere. "You're worse than I fuckin' am, man. You're just splashing it all around 'n' shit with the brush. I tried to do yours as neat as I could!" She said, leaning over slightly to point at Kaitlin's feet. Bold fire engine red made up Kaitlin's toenails, in neat but uneven streaks. "I expected something like mine is all..."

"Well, I'll try to get better for when you visit," Kaitlin said, her light joking tone faltering near the end of her sentence. She coughed, wriggling up the bed to lean against the wall like Lady was. "I'll paint Ryan and JB's nails, fingers and toes if I have to."

"Christ, would they even let you? Guys are always weird about that shit."

"I'll make them let me."

They shared a laugh together, Lady leaning in towards Kaitlin and practically laying on the other's stomach upright. Somehow. "Ryan would probably want black or something cool to match his fuckin' motorbike," she said, picking at her fingernails. They were getting long and sharp enough to hurt if she made a fist. It was taking all of her willpower to not bite them off. "JB... I dunno. Red."

"That sounds about right."

"If you do paint their nails or whatever... Send me pictures. Send me 'em every time you guys write... Please," Lady said softly, her voice beginning to catch here and there.

"Of course. You better write too, take pictures and stuff of Angel Grove. Send pictures of guys and girls you think are cute so I can make fun of you."

Lady smiled and nodded, trying to ignore the heartache and focus on the Soul Asylum song bleeding through Kaitlin's stereo.

"Lady." Her father's voice was stern, solid, serious. Three things that he wasn't. It was enough to rip her from her thoughts and actually make her look at him for the first time during the trip. She pushed up her heart-shaped prescription sunglasses before straightening herself up. He wasn't looking at her, instead focusing on the paved road in front of him. "I know that you're fuckin' pissed off with me about this whole thing."

'Fucking pissed off is a bit of an understatement, honestly.' She thought with a roll of her eyes.

"But, I really feel like Angel Grove would be good for you. Something will happen there. Something or someone. It'll change your fuckin' life like it did with me," he said, stealing a glance at her every few words. "If it weren't for Angel Grove, you wouldn't be here. I remember you begging me to take you here when you were ten."

'Look at how that shit turned out. And no I didn't, jackass.'

"It'll be different there, Lady. I know Kaitlin 'n' the guys were your friends. But you'll make more. I'm sure of it."

'Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, shut up, shut up, shut up, you fucking dickhead.'

"You'll make friends that'll last a lifetime there, Lady."

"Did it turn out that way for you, Dad?" She finally spat.

He rolled his eyes as he decided to ignore her words. "You'll make friends if you let it happen, Lady."

She grit her teeth before letting herself slump into the seat again, making a show of slamming her heels against the truck dashboard. 'That's not up to me.'

"Looks like the new neighbours are here, hun."

"They're here awfully late, aren't they?"

"Yeah, it's almost six."

Mr. and Mrs. Cranston were a simple couple, they liked to believe. Life wasn't too eventful on their end, at least, when their only child wasn't making a racket in their garage. Maybe it wasn't right to call it their garage anymore, since they let him have it as his own lab in the seventh grade. He was in there all the time anyway, always working on his inventions, to various degrees of success, or just general experiments. When he wasn't locked up in his room or at the library, anyway. It just made sense for them to officially give him the space. It was much better for him to make a mess in there and not worry about the curtains lighting on fire. Again.

They kept to themselves mostly, and for the longest time, they assumed that William would have as well. But, they were pleasantly surprised when he had made some lifelong friends as a child. At least, that's what they believed. The move from Chicago to Angel Grove did him good, they thought. His friends invited him to almost everything, even if he wasn't nearly as athletic as them. Athletics weren't the boy's forte, which was most likely why he never showed too much interest in it, besides asking to take gymnastics with one of his friends in the past. He participated in the community, volunteering for events and charities, though some of them left them a little worried for his health and safety. What kind of charity involved races on ATVs!? He didn't even have his license back then! But, maybe next year, they'd let him join. Since his friends turned out okay, and he did seem to take their "SAFETY FIRST!" lessons to heart when he got his license. Maybe it'd be okay.

"Should we welcome them to the neighbourhood, Darla?" He asked, sneaking a peek at the house across the street from the window. Only two people got out of the U-Haul, a man and a girl around William's age.

Darla shook her head, sliding a plate of tuna casserole towards him. "Not right now anyway. We haven't even started dinner yet..." She sighed softly, looking at the doorway that had lead to the hallway. There wasn't any sound of William washing his hands or even coming out of the garage. She sighed once again, huffier than before. She had told him that dinner would be done soon and to go wash up ten minutes ago! "Lee, can you go get him?"

Copying his wife, Lee Cranston stood up with a sigh and made his way out of the kitchen-dining area, down the hall near the entrance of the home and opened the door to the garage. There was his son, William lying on the ground. Well, not quite, as he was actually on a mechanic's creeper, working on the underside of the old bug that his uncle gave him as a reward for getting his learner's last year. It hadn't gotten much use yet, as he hadn't gotten it to run in the way he liked it quite yet.

"Hey, Bill, your mother called you ten minutes ago," Lee said, raising his voice just so he could be heard from under the car. Sometimes his son had just gotten so immersed in his work that he couldn't hear anyone. It didn't help that he sometimes blasted music while working on just about everything that wasn't homework. That wasn't the case tonight however. A moment had passed before Billy rolled out from under the car, his hands and cheeks caked in oil.

"Ah, my apologies, Father. I didn't realize that time had passed so expeditiously, I was performing maintenance under the car. It's unequivocal that Uncle Oscar didn't take adequate care of the conveyance's underside, it seems. I'm assured that once rudimentary maintenance is culminated, I can commence working on the more arduous aspects such as superseding the engine with a potent enough engine and expeditor-"

"Sounds like you have a lot of work ahead of you, son," Lee said with an apologetic smile. While it was great to hear about his son's projects, his area of expertise was more in English, specifically Literature, and he had a hard time keeping up with his son when he got into science and mathematics. He even had some trouble keeping up with his extensive vocabulary—especially when he would use words incorrectly from time to time. "Come on now," he said with a warm smile, helping his son onto his feet. "Let's get washed up before your mother gets really upset."

"Affirmative."

"Dad, this is fuckin' horseshit," Lady mumbled as she unceremoniously dropped the fourth and fifth box of books into what was going to be the office.

"She speaks," was all Ian had to say as he wormed his way out of the room-slash-maze of boxes and into the hallway.

"Fuck off."

"You're lucky you're you because if you were one of your cousins, I'd smack the Injun outta ya, Little Lady."

Lady grit her teeth, her hands clenched tightly together, jagged nails digging into her palms. A white-hot jolt struck her in the chest as she clenched and unclenched her hands. "You'vebeensayingthatforfuckin'everandnothing'shappened."

Ian reached out and ruffled her hair, though not much could be done since it was tied up into two tight braids. "You're right, and if I tried, you'd better put those boxing skills to use and knock my fuckin' teeth out." She bit her lip and looked away as she tried to duck away from her dad's touch. "If I ever try to lay a hand on you, no matter how many times you fuckin' swear at me, knock me the fuck out. Same with any other man. Twice as hard if they're a white man."

Lady bit her lip harder, trying in earnest to keep it from curling upward.

"Trying to be mad, c'mon... let's get the shit in for your room. You still want the basement, right?"

"Yeah."

Without a word, the two made their way down the hall and stairs and into where they thought the living room was going to be. It was a wide open area, open concept Lady thought it might've been called. The kitchen theoretically could see where the future TV set would go, as long as it was placed on the wall where the house faced the street. The space made it perfect for the haphazardly stacked boxes to be gathered, some of them in incomplete and complete pyramids or towers or just in the middle of their path and in the way. The furniture beyond bed frames, mattresses, a beat up threadbare couch along with things Lady deemed 'too delicate to be crammed into a cramped van' would be in tomorrow. Hopefully. What with the movers somehow missing an important lane change and winding up on the way to the Mariner Bay-Turtle Cove route instead. Somehow.

They journeyed through the maze of boxes and up and down the basement stairs, loudly cursing whenever one of the boxes for The Lady's Domain was buried under boxes for at least one different room in the house. Soon, the basement was as close as full as it could be with half of their things on the highway, seven or so hours away.

Lady sighed as she pushed a tack into the drywall in a decently sized room in the basement, which was the opposite side of the laundry room which was beside the basement bathroom. She then hung up one of her cork boards, which was covered in photos of her friends from Cross World City. Her hazel eyes scanned the board, flickering from memory to memory, some captured on Polaroid or cheap-by-Kaitlin's-standards Kodak or the occasional 'professional', developed by hand in her Photography 20 class photo by Kaitlin herself. Lady's eyes fell on one picture in particular, right in the middle of the board, obscured by a shot of them surrounding Ryan's hound, Jeb, in one of the city's parks.

Winter Formal, 10th grade. 1992.

They were standing in Lady's old house, the four of them standing in the living room with the TV on behind them, her dad not wanting to miss a second of Die Hard even as he tried to take the dozens of pictures that he was asked to take by the other's parents.

Lady didn't want to go the dance at all then. At first.

"Why don't you want to go?" Asked Ryan, who held the punching bag still for Lady, wincing every time she laid a strike onto it. He felt every one, the force mostly getting absorbed into the sand but it almost hurt.

"I'unno..." She said, pushing up her glasses with her glove before going for a right jab. "I don't... I don't know dances very well. Just from movies, I guess, and they make them sound so... catty." There was a pause. "Like, what if someone dies."

Ryan snorted, his hands slipping from the sides of the bag. "What?"

"Carrie." This was followed by a flurry of fast, yet hard, punches to the middle of the bag. "Like... psychic shit."

"Maybe in some movie or game but it's just high school dance... Nothing weird like that happens at Cross World City," he said, gripping tightly onto the bag to keep it steady for her as he spoke. Then, something crawled into his mind. He bit his lip, wondering if it was a question he should really ask. "...Or is it something else in that movie?" He asked, as gently as possible.

Lady stopped.

"Sorry-"

"No... I mean, maybe that's part of it... Like, nothing happened here or anything but it's like what if someone hated me secretly and they're planning something and then it happens there and then stuff starts and you guys get-"

Ryan dropped his hands from the bag and slid over to Lady, his hands hovering above her shoulders for a moment before placing them down. He gave her a gentle shake. "I don't think anything like that's gonna happen. Ifit does, and it won't, happen... The guys and I would stay by your side. You're stuck with us for life."

She shot him a smile, a sheepish one but a smile all the less, before pushing up her glasses again. "Yeah, 'cause you fuckers can't take a message. You, in particular, you nosy fuck." She gave him a playful shove, before holding out her hands which were still clad in boxing gloves, wanting him to undo them for her. "I'll... think about it."

"Nice," he said as he undid the straps and pulled one of them off for her. His blue eyes flickered from the glove and down to her face, her eyes looking away from him. "Hey, did you... have anyone in mind? If you do go?"

"Huh? What'd you mean?"

"For a date, it's one of those the girl asks the guy things."

She blinked, thick eyebrows shooting upward. "Oh shit... I thought that dance was in March..."

"The school has two of them. Winter Formal in December and Sadie Hawkins in March."

"Ah." The small smile was still on her lips, though it was widening more and more with every second. Her free hand pushed a loose lock of hair behind her ear as she shot him a look before dashing down to undo the other glove and tie them together. This would keep her fingers busy and not tangle themselves into each other. "Why do you wanna know?"

Ryan let out a soft laugh, a dusting of pink appearing on his cheeks. "I was just wondering... I mean, Kaitlin asked JB the other night..."

"Is this your way of asking me to ask you to the dance, Mr. Steele?"

Ryan sucked in a breath, a hand reaching up to cover his face and dragging it downwards, stretching his features out. 'Shit.'

"Okay." He looked over at her, seeing that she wasn't looking at him, maybe out of embarrassment herself. "I'll go if... only you go with me, Ryan."

"O-of course."

"Holy shit, what happened to you?" asked Lady once Kaitlin and JB walked to their table, their once pure, virginal, white clothes now looking like a crime scene. A pinkish crime scene that smelled like cherry Kool-aid, but it was a bloody mess regardless.

"Be thankful you wore black and dark blue," said JB as he grabbed one of the swan-shaped napkins on the table and dabbed at his jacket. "My Dad is going to flip when he sees this..."

Lady looked over at Kaitlin, in hopes to get some answers but only found the same scene. Her friend muttering under her breath as she tried to clean up the dress she wore, despite secretly knowing it was futile. She shrugged before looking over at Ryan, who looked like he was trying not to laugh at his friends' misfortune.

He looked good tonight, she thought. They all did really. Lady felt like she had turned back into a pumpkin right when Kaitlin showed up at her house with her coiffed hair, arranged in soft sandy blonde waves that framed her face beautifully, and makeup that didn't look like a six-year-old that snuck into their mom's makeup drawer. Even if Lady would never admit it, her friend's tits looked bangin' in that dress. There were moments when Kaitlin was helping her with her too-fucking-long hair, she had to tear her eyes away from the blonde's chest in the mirror. Miraculously, Kaitlin had managed to get her looking decent looking before the boys showed up. Lady's long dark hair was up in a high ponytail with little butterfly clips in front of it, her eyeliner looking 'smoky'–only because she smudged the hell out of it—even though she was just going to hide her eyes with thick, dark sunglasses like always and heels that miraculously didn't kill her. Nothing could save her from the black and blue ruffled hand-me-down monstrosity that was her dress though. It was probably considered frumpy and awful at her older cousin's prom in 1983. That seemed to be something she had in common with JB tonight, seeing as the white suit he wore was probably as old as he was. The only difference was that he made it look good. Ryan was in a standard black tux with a dark blue shirt that almost matched Lady's dress. It was simple, but fuck if she could keep herself from stealing glances at him. He probably looked godly standing next to her.

"Hey, do you wanna dance?" Ryan asked. His voice brought her back to the present, which was currently the middle of Whitney Houston belting out her soulful soprano through speakers in the middle of a not-that-fancy hotel's ballroom.

Lady blinked before looking at her hands in her lap. "Uh..." She wondered if he had waited for a song like this to come up before shaking the thought out of her head. 'Get a grip, Lady. Why would he do that?'

"You don't have to if you don't want to, I just figured... it's a dance so..."

"I," she started, her hands clenching into fists. "I do but..." 'People will see you and feel sorry for you.'

"Well, that's enough for me." Ryan stood up and held out his hand for her to take. "C'mon, JB and Kaitlin will come too. Right guys?"

"Yeah, yeah..." JB said before turning towards Kaitlin and bowing in an exaggerated fashion. "May I have this dance, Madam?"

Kaitlin swooned or pretended to anyway, before taking JB's arm. "How could I resist? Let us dance the night away~."

Lady watched the two debut onto the floor, swirling and flailing their arms behind them dramatically. "Fuckin' dorks..." she said with a smile. 'At least I won't be the stupidest person on the floor.' She stood up and finally took Ryan's arm. "I'm not very good, dude."

"I know. I've seen you try to copy David Byrne—hey!" Ryan squealed when Lady swatted him hard in the shoulder with her other hand. They both laughed as they made their way to the floor, not quite to the middle since they didn't want to lose their friends. By the time they got there, Whitney Houston faded into nothing, making Lady let out a sigh.

'Thank. God.'

The music that played next was a lot more upbeat, actually danceable. But that revelation through the brunette into a crisis; how the fuck do you dance to dance music with other people? As embarrassing as it would've been to dance to "I Will Always Love You" with one of your best friends, at least all you had to do was shift side to side an appropriate ("Save Room For Jesus!" was something an old Catholic teacher would tell her in sixth grade during a 'sock hop'.) distance away from each other while gripping onto each other in an embarrassing death grip.

"You're hurting me, Lady."

She immediately let go of his hand, only now realizing she was crushing it. "Shit, sorry."

SO BABY, LET YOUR CONSCIENCE GO. THERE'S NO TURNING BACK WHEN LOVE TAKES HOLD.

She looked around the floor, seeing that people were managing to dance with each other and not look like an idiot. She took a breath and closed her eyes, trying to do what the song told her. Minus the love thing. That'd be weird. When she opened them, Ryan was looking down at her worryingly. She stepped from side to side, trying to find the best despite having no rhythm whatsoever, before swaying her hips. He did the same, maybe a little better, as in, not nearly as forced. Okay, they can do this. It'll be okay.

HOLD ME, BABY. DRIVE ME CRAZY. TOUCH ME, ALL NIGHT LONG

The lyrics made her laugh because of the situation, her body stumbling forward and into his chest. Wanting to save herself, she reached for his hands and had him spin her. God, this was awkward for everyone. 'Sorry, Ryan.' The blonde grinned anyway, pulling her close after another spin before pushing her away, keeping their fingers entwined. They didn't match the song whatsoever, but who was taking this seriously at this point?

"Did you have fun?" Ian asked once she walked through the door, her heels hanging from her hand.

Lady smiled and nodded. "Yeah... it wasn't really like the movies, I'unno if I'm disappointed or not." She flopped onto the floor before pushing herself up into a sitting position and crossing her legs. Her lower half had been lost to a sea of crinkly, puffy ruffles. "Kaitlin and JB's dress and shit got fucked up though, a couple of girls were apparently throwing drinks at each other or something. But it was fun..."

"You glad you went then?"

"Yeah, I'm glad my first dance wasn't shitty like I thought it was gonna be. 'Cause of before and movies and stuff."

"Good... we need to talk about something...Lady! Get the door!"

Lady blinked. She was back in her room, her new one, in 1993. It was April, not December. Angel Grove, not Cross World City. Her head spun as she made her way out the bedroom door and up the stairs. Christ, how long was she standing there? She thought as she made her way to the door, vaguely wondering what her dad was doing and why he couldn't get the door.

The door cracked open slightly, the sight of an eye peering out the crack made Billy jump a little. A beat had passed before it opened a little wider, not enough for anyone to see into the house but enough to reveal the figure.

A shorter girl, maybe around Kimberly's height, with waist length black hair tied into two braids. She pushed up her heart-shaped sunglasses, hiding the eyes he had half a glimpse of a moment before. Her skin was a flushed russet brown, looking as if she had just finished a run or she was embarrassed by something. The thing that drew Billy's eye the most besides her choice in eyewear were the two birthmarks above her top lip, where her canines might be. At first glance, someone might've thought they were small piercings, they were either called snake or angel bites. He had to ask someone to make sure.

"Hello! We're your neighbors, we live across the street," said his mother, positively beaming all the while. "I'm Dr. Darla Cranston, this is my husband, Lee, and our son, William."

Billy, unsure of what to do, simply waved before holding out his hand for her to shake. "Salutations, feel free to call me Billy."

The girl just stared at his hand, eyebrows furrowing before she looked behind her into the dark. Billy swallowed before deciding to pull his hand away. Only for the girl to stiffly reach for his hand at the last minute, give it two weak shakes before pulling away. Her motions reminded him of the nearly broken down animatronics he had seen during his ninth birthday. What an evening that had been.

Suddenly, the door opened wider, revealing a tall, attractive man with long dark, braided hair that hung over his right shoulder. His dark eyes widened at the sight of the family, or at least that's what Billy had assumed. It was clear that neither of them was expecting a welcoming committee.

"Hi, can I help you?" the man asked.

"Oh! We're your neighbors across the street, we had just introduced ourselves to your..." This time, it was Billy's father that spoken up, only for him to get cut off by the man.

"Oh fuck. Lady, were you rude to these guys?" He laughed, gripping his daughter on the shoulder and giving her a shake Billy noticed her grimace at the physical contact. "My kid's not the greatest at socializing, I'm afraid. Anyway, I'm Dr. Ian Johnson, and if you haven't guessed, this little lady here is... Lady."

Lady shut her eyes tight and muttered something under her breath. From her expression alone, Billy could tell that it wasn't a pleasant comment she made. He kept looking at her, looking away every few moments so she wouldn't catch him staring, wondering why she had looked so miserable. The other question on his mind was if this was how the father and daughter normally talked to each other. Or at least, if this how other people's parents talked to their children.

The only times he had heard either of his parents curse was when his mother was upset that his father left the dishes to "soak" again or when his father hit the edge of the table or doorknob. He couldn't imagine actually swearing to his parents in any situation, friendly or otherwise. The day that his mother rushed into the garage after Billy slammed his hip against the corner of the workbench in there and cursed at the pain wasn't something he'd forget. Even six years later.

He watched Dr. Johnson shake hands with both of his parents before her mother clasped her hands together. "I apologize if we're imposing, Dr. Johnson, but in the middle of dinner, we realized that since it was so late when you two arrived in the city, you probably didn't have time for food shopping."

"We also weren't sure if you knew the area well enough to eat out."

Dr. Johnson shot a look at his daughter, who was also shooting a look at him as well. Billy pondered what it could've meant.

"Anyway, what my husband and I are trying to say is, would you like to come over to eat? I also had dessert prepared."

"Unless you two did already eat or you're not feeling it, it's more than alright."

If they did agree, Billy hoped that his parents wouldn't force him to sit through dinner. As rude as it might've sounded. He was anxious to get back to work on the Rad Bug as soon as possible. He had been on a roll before he was called away. He hoped that once he finished the underside, he could begin working on what was under the hood.

"What do you say, Lady?" Dr. Johnson's booming voice had ripped Billy from his thoughts. He glanced at the girl, who simply shrugged. "We'd be honoured, thank you for the invitation."

Grey eyes watched Lady push the tuna casserole all over her plate since Billy clearly had no idea what to do when his parents had him sit down at the table. The three adults had been yammering away about their children, the area and it's climate and their respective professions. The revelation that Dr. Johnson was a palaeontologist, focusing on paleobotany, in particular, had been a fascinating one, yes, but Billy could never get a word in.

"Where are you two from, if I may ask?" asked his mother as she refilled Dr. Johnson's glass.

"We moved here from Cross World City, but we're from Canada actually. This one here," the man smacked Lady on the shoulder, rather hard from the sound of it, making Billy flinch and Lady gag on the casserole she had finally put in her mouth. "Was born in Drumheller, Alberta, but my family's from a little reserve outside of Thompson, Manitoba."

Billy's mother's eyes widened in surprise. "Reserve? Like a reservation?"

"Oh yeah, we're two big Indians, eh."

Lady snorted, her lips curled into a tight smile around the fork in her mouth. It was the first time anyone had seen her smile tonight, at least in the Cranston household.

"That's incredible! My grandmother said that we're part Cherokee ourselves, actually."

There was a pause. And then another one.

Lady dropped her fork. A hand slapped itself over her mouth to keep the food from spilling out. Even from where he was sitting, Billy could hear her muffled giggling. Apparently, her father could as well, since he gently patted her on the shoulder and muttered the words, "C'mon, my girl. Be nice." She then swallowed and sat up straight.

"Was your kookum a Cherokee Princess too?" From the sound of her voice, she was clearly still laughing, but desperately trying to hold it back.

Billy stared down at his feet. Hoo boy, he had always felt awkward whenever his mother told people that, but now it was a little worse now.

"Oh gosh, I'm not sure? What is a... kookum?"

"They wouldn't be called that in Cherokee, I think. It means 'your grandmother' in Cree, however," Dr. Johnson jumped in, while Lady bit down hard on her lip, no doubt fighting back more laughter. "If I were talking about my grandmother, I'd say nohkum, not that this girl pays any attention." He ruffled her hair, which nearly made her fall out of the chair from trying to duck away from him.

"Oh, then, no. My grandmother was only part after all, maybe further back in my family history, perhaps?"

Lady and her father continued to fight back snickers. Clearly, this had to be part of some inside joke that it probably wasn't appropriate for him to ask the meaning. Billy asked to be excused from the table, wanting to get back to work on the Rad Bug. His parents gave each other a look then at Dr. Johnson, who simply laughed and told him that he didn't have to stick around if he didn't want to, which made his parents quickly agree to let him go. He wasn't entirely sure why the man's opinion mattered all too much, but he was grateful that that was the final push.

Half an hour had passed before Billy heard the door to the garage open. To his surprise, it was Lady standing in the doorway holding two plates of cheesecake his mother made earlier. He wiped his face with a mostly clean cloth before walking over to the work desk where she sat on top of and settled one of the plates down.

"Greetings," he said cautiously, wondering if he was going to be dignified with a response this time. "Oh, your hands were full... How did you manage to get the door open?"

"...hi. Your mom asked me to give you a piece." It was a surprise hearing her speak, at least in a casual way. In response to his question, Lady lifted up a leg then let it drop. "Like that."

"Huh," Billy hummed in response, facing away from the workbench and leaning against the edge before he took the plate on it. She did bring it for him after all. "If I'm not imposing, can I ask what sent you and your father into a frenzied cachinnation earlier?"

There was a long pause, longer than when his mother had made that comment. He swallowed thickly, maybe he shouldn't have asked. Or perhaps, she didn't understand what he had said. It wasn't the first time his vocabulary got him in trouble like this.

"Your mom's clearly fuckin' white, dude..." she started before taking a bite of the cake after a deep sigh. She kicked her legs back and forth as she chewed. "It's just funny is all. Me 'n' my dad... we hear about how everyone's grandma or something was an Indian Princess all the time. They all pick Cherokee for some reason. We get surprised if we hear Navajo or something else. At first, it was really annoying and made me kinda mad, 'cause they're all fuckin' lying probably. Or if they're part, it's like way back or they're one-sixth or three-eighths Native or something. Like it shouldn't even count, or at least if they're just gonna use it to try to get money or seem cool or something. No plans on trying to fuckin' learn anything about it. And I never knew what the fuck to do after I hear about it, like do I give them a fuckin' fake headdress or something? A fuckin' medal that says Honorary Neechie on it?" She shovelled another bite into her mouth. "We had to learn to laugh at it though. It got tiring explaining it so we just... kinda laugh and try to keep count, I guess."

"Ah..." Billy wasn't sure if he understood. But, he knew that his mother had been out of line."I apologize on behalf of my mother, she tends to bring it up a strange amount. I can't confirm if anything she's saying is true. My grandmother had passed away before I was born. Regardless, I'd still like to apologize."

She shook her head. "It's okay. She... didn't mean anything from it. Anything bad anyway. My dad is probably talking to her about it right now though. He definitely will if she brings it up again or says something weird though. I think our parents like each other so they'll hang out or something." She had paused, maybe just now realizing how much she was talking. "Whatever... Hey, d'ya mind if I smoke in here? I haven't had one since three or something."

Billy blinked a few times at her request, surprise hitting him like a bus. It backed up over him when she had dug around in the pockets of her dress and pulled out a crinkled pack of cigarettes; a slim package in pink with a rainbow on it, he was sure he had seen a few girls outside the library smoke that brand before. She stared at him expectantly, waiting for the okay to go for it. Words were caught in his mouth. His chest had felt a little tight at the suggestion. Maybe he was overreacting to this, lots of teens his age smoked. He just didn't expect her to. Finally, he shook his head. He simply couldn't allow her to do that, especially here of all places. "I, uh, must ask that you don't smoke in here; there's plenty of flammable materials within in the vicinity and I don't want to r-risk anything. I-I also suggest that you just do not partake in cigarettes around me in general. I have asthma."

"Oh shit, okay, nevermind... Um, what're you doing?" She asked, stuffing the cigarettes back into her pocket. She had taken that a lot better than he had expected, if he had to be honest.

"Oh, this? This is just one of my many projects, though I decided to fixate on it entirely for now. I call it, The Rad Bug." He had sounded quite haughty, he realized. But he was proud of his work and had no intentions of underselling it. There was nothing wrong with being proud of your accomplishments or plans, in his eyes. "I intend for it to have the ability to fly and to expedite to over three thousand miles within seconds. All while having an unsullied fuel source, which is easier verbally expressed than done, but I'm sure I, or someone else, will discover how to go about it. If someone else does, I'll have to make the correct adjustments for it to be compatible with The Rad Bug."

Lady stared dumbly at the car than at him. He realized he probably lost her somewhere. Where was Trini when he needed him? He rolled his eyes internally. Of course, he knew where she was, she was probably at home packing for her week-long trip with Kimberly to an out of town spa next week.

"Err... To put it simply-"

"It's... It's an old ass Volkswagen. How could, would it do all that? How long would it even take?"

"I intend to have this in working order during the summer, maybe the beginning of academia at the latest. As for how it could, well, the fun part is figuring it out."

"So, you think you can do all that. In a few months..."

"It's not a matter of me simply just cerebrating it; I know I can. If I just work on it consistently, it'll be up and running in no time."

"You're absolutely fuckin' confident?"

"Affirmative."

"...Cool. Good luck, I guess."

"Much obliged," he said with a smile. Which he thought he had seen her return as Lady stepped down from the table and eyed his plate, which still had cake on it. She then stared at the one in her hand before turning towards the door of the garage. "Where are you going?"

"I'm fucking off for now. You got work to do and I wanna go home." Had he said or done something wrong? "Also, I really need to smoke, so, bye."

"Oh, well, it was nice meeting you, Lady."

Lady didn't respond besides giving him a small nod before taking her plate inside the house, presumably to put it in the sink and head home.

"How's it goin' in here?" Ian asked, not bothering to knock on the door when he came in.

Lady was lying on the floor, surrounded by the bed frame, while Talking Heads' "I Zimbra" played on a boom box nearby but outside the frame. "Shit sucks."

"The room?"

"Every-fuckin'-thing." She huffed, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. "Almost everything."

"It'll get better, my girl. I promise."

"Yeah, yeah... whatever. Get my fucking mattress in here, Asshole."