Changing Lives by Mabel Marsters

1 :: 2 :: 3 :: 4 :: 5 :: 6 :: 7 :: 8 :: 9 :: 10 :: 11 :: 12 :: 13 :: 14 :: 15 :: 16 :: 17 :: 18 :: 19 :: 20 :: 21 :: 22 :: 23 :: 24 :: 25 :: 26 :: 27 :: 28 :: 29 :: 30 :: 31 :: 32 :: 33 :: 34 :: 35 :: 36 :: 37 :: 38 :: 39 :: 40 :: 41 :: 42 :: 43 :: 44 :: 45 :: 46 :: 47 :: 48 :: 49 :: 50 :: 51 :: 52 :: 53 :: 54 :: 55 :: 56 :: 57 :: 58 :: 59 :: 60 ::

Chapter 17

Spike woke up early, mostly thanks to the fact that the couch was as hard as a park bench. He quietly made his way to the bathroom and had a shower. He looked at his reflection thoughtfully. He wasn’t too sure what to make of his white blond hair; it looked cool with the duster on, though. He smiled - William Pratt – cool? That person truly was no more.

Rupert was walking down the stairs as he got back to the sitting room.

“Want a cup of tea?” asked Spike.

“Yes, thanks. I’ll grab a quick shower first then when we’ve had that we’ll get out and get to the stores to sort out your room,” said Rupert, pleased to see ‘Spike’ looking enthusiastic. He still thought of him as Spike in quotation marks!

Not long afterwards they headed out to start their spending spree. Top of the list was a bed for Spike and a car for Rupert – neither of the purchases took long. Rupert bought a rather beat up old Citroen, much to Spike’s amusement.

“It’ll do for now,” said Rupert defensively.

Spike just grinned at him, which was a welcome sight for Rupert to see. Spike’s bed was soon selected and after much persuasion it was going to be delivered later that day, along with a desk and chair, set of drawers and a wardrobe. They spent a couple of hours getting the rest of the things they needed, had lunch whilst they were out and got home in plenty of time for the delivery of the furniture.

Once it was in his room, Spike spent the rest of the evening sorting it out, and putting his clothes away. He put up a Kaiser Chiefs poster on the wall that he’d brought from England. When he’d finished he looked around it - his laptop was on the desk, CD player and TV on top of the drawers. He’d put the copy of Pride and Prejudice in the drawer of his bedside cabinet, that was the only book he had. He thought of all his books at his old house. What would happen to the house and contents now?

After dinner they just lounged about watching TV until bedtime.

“Thanks for all my stuff,” said Spike as he went to his room.

“So far so good,” thought Rupert.

Ooooooo

“Do yer mind if I go for a walk?” asked Spike the next morning.

“Of course not, just don’t get lost,” joked Rupert.

“I won’t and I’ll be back for lunch,” replied Spike.

He wandered along, drawn irresistibly to his old house; it took him half an hour to get there. After the lovely house in London it looked even grimmer than it usually did. He walked up the path and looked in at his old room. It seemed like a lifetime ago since he’d been there. He walked into the backyard. They’d always hidden a key under a large stone a few yards from the house so he went and picked it up.

“What do you think you’re doing?” said a voice harshly.

He recognised it instantly. It was Mrs. Johnson from next door; she never missed a trick.

“Um,” he said, realising he couldn’t tell her he was William.

“Up to no good, I reckon. Clear off, we don’t need the likes of you nosying around.”

“Look, I’m not doin’ any ‘arm,” said Spike.

“If you’re not out of there in two minutes I’m calling the cops.”

“Okay, okay, I’m goin’.” He knew her well enough to know her threats weren’t idle.

He caught a glimpse of his reflection as he passed a window. Bleach blond locks, long black coat, black jeans, t-shirt and boots - he did look a bit like a troublemaker he supposed, the scar on his face adding to it. Another revelation: William Pratt – intimidating. God, this was getting more bizarre by the second!

He was delighted to find out his Internet account was up and running when he got home and he immediately went online and e-mailed Rich, apologising for misleading him and telling him how much his letter had meant to him. He signed his name as Spike; it felt right.

Ooooooo

“Ja….er..Spike? Are you ready? Don’t want to be late for your first day,” called Rupert on Monday morning, “Come and have some breakfast.”

The door to Spike’s room opened and out walked Spike dressed in his now usual black jeans and black boots. His t-shirt was sleeveless and showed his tattoo. It too was black, with ‘Ghost of the Robot’ written on the left side of the chest.

“Nice job of trying to blend in,” thought Rupert. He’d only met Principal Snyder once, and that was at his job interview but he already knew he would hate Spike on sight with the way he was dressed.

“Mornin’,” said Spike. He hadn’t slept well and was dreading the thought of going to school, but then again that was nothing new.

“Morning,” replied Rupert, resisting the urge to try to get him to change his clothes, “There’s some toast, would you like some eggs?”

“No, toast’s okay,” said Spike. He was feeling decidedly ‘green’ and his stomach gave a threatening gurgle at the thought of eggs.

He nibbled a piece of toast half-heartedly and drank some orange juice. As soon as it got to his stomach it seemed like it had turned to acid. Spike quickly got up and went to the bathroom, getting to the toilet just in time before throwing up what little he’d eaten. He brushed his teeth, splashed some cold water on his face, drying it with a towel and heading back out. Rupert noticed how deathly pale he looked.

“Are you all right?”

Spike nodded.

“Ready to go then?”

Spike nodded again, put on his leather coat and picked up his knapsack, slinging it over his shoulder and following Rupert to the car.

Ooooooo

Spike was starting to zone out. He and Rupert were in Principal Snyder’s office and Snyder was telling him what a hard act William would be to follow, that his grades weren’t anywhere near as impressive and that he hoped he had a good attitude like William had and so on and so on.

“Is that what you think, James?” asked Snyder. When he got no response he barked the name again.

“James!”

“Huh? Oh sorry, wot was that?” asked Spike.

“I asked you if you thought school was more about friends than learning,” snapped Snyder.

“Um…learning, obviously,” answered Spike.

“Well, make sure you put that into practice.”

“Erm…I will.” Rupert nudged him, “I will, sir,” he added.

“Now go along to your first class, which is history. The bell for start of classes will be going off shortly,” said Snyder, giving Spike directions to the classroom.

“Okay,” said Spike. Snyder glared at him, “Sir.”

“I’ll be watching you,” said Snyder ominously.

Ooooooo

“Okay, ‘ere goes,” muttered Spike as he pushed open the door to his first class.

The teacher wasn’t there yet and the students were sitting chatting away with each other about what they’d been doing over the weekend. He took a deep breath, drew himself up to his full height and did his best to saunter into the room as if he didn’t have a care in the world. The room fell silent. They’d been told on Friday that William’s cousin would be starting class on Monday; but whatever they’d expected William’s cousin to look like it certainly wasn’t the bleach haired, leather clad youth in front of them. Spike scanned the room for a vacant seat. He ignored the one at the front and settled himself in one in the right hand back corner of the room. Everyone was staring at him and he was amazed he wasn’t blushing, but blushing was what William did, not Spike. He didn’t smile at anyone or speak but met and held their gaze until it was they who broke eye contact.

The teacher walked in - it was Mrs. Bernstein. Spike resisted the urge to groan, she was so boring. Luckily he’d never had any classes with her apart from when she filled in for others when they were ill, but he knew these classes were going to seem like they lasted forever. He glanced at the others in the class, not sure if he was pleased that Buffy, Willow, Xander or Oz weren’t in the class or not; and he’d yet to meet Angel.

For the second time that morning he was lost in his own thoughts and didn’t react to his name being spoken.

“Mr. Norman!” shrieked Mrs. Bernstein.

“Wot?” said Spike, snapping back to reality.

“Please stand up and tell the class a little about yourself.”

“Yer kiddin’, right?” he said,

How could she ask him to do that? The whole bloody school knew what had happened. A couple of kids snickered at his reply.

“No, I am not. Now please do as I say,” bristled the teacher.

Spike stood up, his chair scraping on the floor as he did so.

“Um,” he said, * “Great start, Spike, real eloquent,” * he chided himself, “I’m James Norman, but I only answer to Spike,” he said, staring at Mrs. Bernstein as he spoke, “An’ I reckon you lot know everything you need to know about me already. I’ve ‘ad to come ‘ere ‘cause my folks were killed in a car crash. Do I need to say anything else? Or was that enough?”

Mrs. Bernstein was flustered, “Er…no that’s fine…er...James…thank you.”

“Spike,” he said, enjoying her discomfort.

“I’m sorry?”

“Weren’t you listening? My name’s Spike, right? My folks called me James an’ I don’t want anyone else to, okay?”

He sat down. * “God, where did that come from?” * He just seemed to get angry or frustrated so easily these days.

The rest of the morning passed uneventfully. He made his way to the cafeteria; he was starving since he’d not kept any of his breakfast down. He queued up and bought sandwiches, a piece of cake and a Coke, planning on taking them outside to eat, not quite up to sitting there alone with all eyes on him. After he paid he turned to leave, not looking where he was going as he put his change in his jeans pocket, and he bumped into someone. He was just about to apologise when he realised it was Angel.

“Crap!” thought William.

“Sod ‘im!” thought Spike, taking over from William’s panic.

“Watch where you’re going,” snarled Angel, glaring at Spike.

Spike coolly met his eyes. “Yer Angel, right?”

“Yeah I am, how do you know that, new boy?”

“Was easy, see, William told me there was this big prick…”

Angel went to grab at him but stopped short as he heard Snyder shout.

“Ah, Mr. O’Connor, you’re making our newest student welcome I see?”

“Yes, sir. I was just telling him how great Sunnydale High is,” said Angel without missing a beat.

“That so, Mr. Norman?” asked Snyder, looking carefully at Spike.

“That’s right,” said Spike, “Sir.”

Snyder glared at the two boys for a second or two then turned and walked away. Spike stepped past Angel and went outside. He sat on the first bench he came to, legs weak after the encounter.

“Christ, have I got a death wish?” he muttered.

Oooooo

Back in the cafeteria Buffy went to sit with her friends.

“Hey Buff, you just missed it,” said Xander.

“Missed what?”

“William’s cousin and Angel,” he replied.

“What? That goon’s not picking up where he left off bullying William, is he? God, I hate him,” said Buffy.

“More like a stand off,” added Willow, “We thought they were going to fight but then Snyder came in and William’s cousin went outside.”

“So what’s he like? He’s going to be in our English class later, isn’t he? Is he like William?” her voice cracked a little as she spoke.

“Um, not really,” replied Willow.

“Bleached hair,” said Xander.

“Great leather coat,” said Oz.

“Looks tough,” said Willow.

“Oh?” said Buffy a bit disappointed; she’d hoped he might be a little like William.

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