Amanda, Charlie - Saturday afternoon
Jul. 2nd, 2005 12:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsAnother Saturday, another meeting with Charlie. This one doesn't go quite as planned.
Charlie rubbed his neck, avoiding grumbling at the heat and his decision to wear a collared shirt. It was hot in Central Park, but Amanda had flatly turned down all of his other airconditioned suggestions. So he sweltered, even under the shade of a tree, while he waited for her to turn up.
This week had been so busy, between finishing his finals and pushing on his project for Amanda that he'd barely had time to breathe. His mother had been asking about his grades since the day after his last final, and he was looking forward to being able to get her off his back. He knew that he'd done well, even in advanced calculus, which had been his nemesis earlier in the year.
His fingers brushed the chain of the dogtags, and he wondered again why he'd told Remy about his father. It was a topic that never came up. But Remy had seemed, well, almost envious of the fact that Charlie had something of his dad's. He made a note to ask Amanda about it.
Amanda loved the warmer weather - coming from England, sun was a novelty. So it was a rather cheerful witch that joined Charlie under the tree, looking far more comfortable in a tank top and cut-offs, although her naturally pale skin was turning a little pink from the sun. "Hey," she said, plonking herself down without ceremony on the grass next to Charlie. "Nice day, ain't it? I've been stuck inside studying so much, I had t' get out, y'know?" As she spoke she was rummaging around in her book bag for a bottle of water, but taking in Charlie's slightly flushed and sweating face, handed it to him instead. "Here. You look like you could use this."
"Thanks." He twisted the top off of the bottle and drank several long swallows. "I'm generally more of the indoor type myself. I know, rugged profile like this, you'd never think that." He joked, a little self-deprecatingly. Despite the heat, it was a nice day out, and he could survive a few hours of the day star without shrivelling up.
"You're talkin' t' someone whose country gets five days of sun a year," Amanda joked back, crossing her legs Indian-style - despite the warm day, she was wearing the ever-faithful Docs. "You probably would've done better t' wear somethin' less..." She gestured at the shirt he was wearing. "Well, just less."
"What, and ruin the ensemble? Chere, it takes effort to look this good!" Charlie said, outrageously parodying Remy's accent. "I'll bet you ten dollars he's still wearing a trenchcoat right now."
She wrinkled her nose at him. "Brilliant, that's all I need. Cajun Lite. An' yeah, he probably is. I wonder if I should point out that if he wants t' blend with a crowd, wearing that thing in the middle of summer's a bit on the sore thumb side of things?" Taking her water bottle back from Charlie, she had a couple of swallows and replaced the cap. "So, what did you think of the school? Did we scare you off yet?"
"Not yet, although next time I'll be a little better prepared. I think I came off as the stuttering wonder to most the people there." Charlie said self-consciously, rubbing the tip of his nose. "It's a pretty overwhelming place to take in, and than add all the people?"
"From what I've been hearin', you did fine." Amanda grinned at the nose-rubbing. It was a particular nervous gesture of his, she'd realised, like her nail biting. "I s'pose I could've told you more, but where d' you start with a place an' people like that? 'Sides, whenever we get together we get distracted by the magic talk." She paused, and then asked a little hesitantly. "Um, how'd you get on with Manuel? He can be a bit... well, a bit Manuel, really. Likes t' check out me friends, since I'm such a disaster magnet usually. Hope he didn't... worry you?"
"Worry isn't really the term I'd use." Charlie said slowly. "He seems like a good guy. He was nice to me." He left out the fact that Manuel had actually scared him a little. Between his powers and his eyes, Charlie was sure that Manuel knew everything about him, and there was something about him that reminded Charlie of other people; tormentors. He pushed down the fear, already resolved to tread more lightly around Amanda so Manuel couldn't think he was trying to steal her from him; avoid being a target.
"Manuel's... People don't always get me an' him. We've been though a lot together, an' he understands me better than most." Amanda caught Charlie's hesitation and bit back a sigh. At least he wasn't putting her through another round of 'your boyfriend's an asshole'. And at least Manuel had apparently behaved himself better than he had with Bethany. "His power gives people the creeps, t' put it bluntly - 's not easy, bein' a psi, an' emotions are like sacred ground, almost." She shrugged a little. "Doesn't matter. So, how bad an impression did I make on yer mum? Talkin' of not bein' prepared an' all."
"Astonishingly bad, but to be honest, most people get the same. She's difficult to please." Charlie shrugged, glad to be off the topic of Manuel. Especially since outwardly, he'd been nothing but nice to him. "Unless you're the daughter of someone important, and only if you're a well groomed daughter at that, you're not going to impress her much."
"I hate t' say it, mate, but yer mum's a snobby bitch." Amanda wasn't overly bothered, though, as long as it didn't interfere with the friendship. "So, 'm guessin' it'll be a while before you get another lift out t' the school from her, then?"
"I'm likely on the bus, yeah." Charlie said, resting his elbows on his knees and letting his hands dangle. "And she's not so bad, you know. It's just, well, since Dad left, she's gotten more driven about things. He took off with some young student from his class, and she's got this image in her head."
Charlie shook his head, speaking cautiously, obviously not comfortable with the subject, but feeling that he had to say something. "You don't understand that she's come up from pretty much nothing. Nearly failed out of law school because she got pregnant and had me. Then Dad was gone for almost two years with the Army, and she got stuck taking care of a four year old while trying to keep her career going. Four years later, my dad takes off with some girl without a look back. Now she's successful, and she's got it in her head that she can stop the same kind of pain from happening to me."
"An' how is bein' friends with me meant t' fuck up yer life?" Amanda asked, not entirely unsympathetic, but not liking how Charlie was making excuses for his mother. Then again, what did she know about normal families? "It just seems t' me that a lot of this makin' sure things work for you is happenin' without you bein' asked what it is you want in the first place, mate. Take Harvard - 's bleedin' obvious you don't want t' go there. An' this school of yers isn't exactly yer favourite place either, from the little bits you've told me."
"No, it's not. But it is a direct pass to any university on the East Coast. And yeah, you're right about Harvard too. I'm not interested in law. But making a living doing this? I hate to say it, but outside of Xavier's, there's not a lot of call for thaumaturgical studies." Charlie took a deep breath, trying to keep a touch of anger out of his voice. "She's doing what she thinks is best for me. So yeah, sometimes she is a bitch. But she's the only one that hasn't run out on me yet."
Amanda winced at that last. Definitely something she could relate to. "I'm sorry," she said at last. "It's just... I don't like seein' me friends not happy, an' while there's not a lot of use for what we do out there, law's not the only thing you can do either. Look at Strange - he's made a livin' out of the books an' languages an' the like. It just seems like you're lettin' people push you into somethin' you aren't, just t' keep the peace." Amanda looked down unhappily at her hands, tearing blades of grass into fragments. It wasn't that she wanted to pick a fight, but she knew Charlie wasn't weak - he'd argue with Forge or herself if he believed he had a point. And this was his life... how was it less important to him?
"Well, sometimes you have to think about other people first." Charlie was in control still, but desperately wanted out of this particular conversation. "It's important to her, and, well, it's not like I'll ever stop doing this. Or be a lawyer for the rest of my life. But I'm all she's got too, and I don't think you can understand what that's like. So, can we just drop it for now?"
She was stung by the last bit, not the least because it was true, at least in part. "There's thinkin' of others an' then there's lettin' 'em run roughshod all over you," she practically muttered. "An' you do that, Charlie."
"Amanda, how do you know?" The thread of control snapped clean inside Charlie. "You don't go to my school. You don't live in my house. Your window into my life consists of weekly meetings and e-mail. So, you'll excuse me if I tell you that you really don't have either the information or the right to make that kind of statement."
Charlie pulled off his glasses and began cleaning them furiously. "You've got your view of the world, and every time something doesn't fit, you start telling me why it should. But it's not that simple. You have the luxury of being able to sit in the big mansion, surrounded by your friends, and tell me what you think I ought to be doing. But I'm the one that has to live my life, and I think I might know a little more about it than you do."
"I've got fuckin' eyes, Charlie, an' maybe I don't see you that often, but the times I do? I notice things. I notice the way you bolt off home in a panic if we lose track of time. I notice the way you never talk 'bout anythin' in yer life except the magic unless I straight-out ask you a question, an' even then you don't give me a straight answer. I saw the way you stepped back an' let yer mum take charge of things when she dropped you off at the school, the shite she was givin' you for yer maths grade - 'cause an 83's so fuckin' _low_!" Sarcasm dripped from the last word. "But you're right, I don't see you enough t' make that call. So you tell me you're happy with the way things are, that I'm wrong an' there's nothin' that ought t' be different, an' I'll shut up an' go back t' me fuckin' mansion an' leave you to it."
"Maybe you should do that." Charlie got to his feet and picked up his bag. "And the next time you feel the need to start insulting people, maybe you shouldn't start with my mother. It's impolite." He put his glasses on, turned his back, and walked away, leaving her sitting alone under the tree.
"Charlie..." Amanda began, but it was already too late, he'd gone. "Fuck," she said miserably, trying to figure out just where the conversation had gone so horribly wrong. Probably when she'd called Charlie's mother a snobby bitch. "Oh yeah, that was bloody brilliant," she muttered to herself, picking up her bag and pulling out her phone. There was still another hour or two before Remy picked her up, but somehow she didn't really feel like sticking around here any more. Better to go back to the school and work on her communication skills.
Charlie rubbed his neck, avoiding grumbling at the heat and his decision to wear a collared shirt. It was hot in Central Park, but Amanda had flatly turned down all of his other airconditioned suggestions. So he sweltered, even under the shade of a tree, while he waited for her to turn up.
This week had been so busy, between finishing his finals and pushing on his project for Amanda that he'd barely had time to breathe. His mother had been asking about his grades since the day after his last final, and he was looking forward to being able to get her off his back. He knew that he'd done well, even in advanced calculus, which had been his nemesis earlier in the year.
His fingers brushed the chain of the dogtags, and he wondered again why he'd told Remy about his father. It was a topic that never came up. But Remy had seemed, well, almost envious of the fact that Charlie had something of his dad's. He made a note to ask Amanda about it.
Amanda loved the warmer weather - coming from England, sun was a novelty. So it was a rather cheerful witch that joined Charlie under the tree, looking far more comfortable in a tank top and cut-offs, although her naturally pale skin was turning a little pink from the sun. "Hey," she said, plonking herself down without ceremony on the grass next to Charlie. "Nice day, ain't it? I've been stuck inside studying so much, I had t' get out, y'know?" As she spoke she was rummaging around in her book bag for a bottle of water, but taking in Charlie's slightly flushed and sweating face, handed it to him instead. "Here. You look like you could use this."
"Thanks." He twisted the top off of the bottle and drank several long swallows. "I'm generally more of the indoor type myself. I know, rugged profile like this, you'd never think that." He joked, a little self-deprecatingly. Despite the heat, it was a nice day out, and he could survive a few hours of the day star without shrivelling up.
"You're talkin' t' someone whose country gets five days of sun a year," Amanda joked back, crossing her legs Indian-style - despite the warm day, she was wearing the ever-faithful Docs. "You probably would've done better t' wear somethin' less..." She gestured at the shirt he was wearing. "Well, just less."
"What, and ruin the ensemble? Chere, it takes effort to look this good!" Charlie said, outrageously parodying Remy's accent. "I'll bet you ten dollars he's still wearing a trenchcoat right now."
She wrinkled her nose at him. "Brilliant, that's all I need. Cajun Lite. An' yeah, he probably is. I wonder if I should point out that if he wants t' blend with a crowd, wearing that thing in the middle of summer's a bit on the sore thumb side of things?" Taking her water bottle back from Charlie, she had a couple of swallows and replaced the cap. "So, what did you think of the school? Did we scare you off yet?"
"Not yet, although next time I'll be a little better prepared. I think I came off as the stuttering wonder to most the people there." Charlie said self-consciously, rubbing the tip of his nose. "It's a pretty overwhelming place to take in, and than add all the people?"
"From what I've been hearin', you did fine." Amanda grinned at the nose-rubbing. It was a particular nervous gesture of his, she'd realised, like her nail biting. "I s'pose I could've told you more, but where d' you start with a place an' people like that? 'Sides, whenever we get together we get distracted by the magic talk." She paused, and then asked a little hesitantly. "Um, how'd you get on with Manuel? He can be a bit... well, a bit Manuel, really. Likes t' check out me friends, since I'm such a disaster magnet usually. Hope he didn't... worry you?"
"Worry isn't really the term I'd use." Charlie said slowly. "He seems like a good guy. He was nice to me." He left out the fact that Manuel had actually scared him a little. Between his powers and his eyes, Charlie was sure that Manuel knew everything about him, and there was something about him that reminded Charlie of other people; tormentors. He pushed down the fear, already resolved to tread more lightly around Amanda so Manuel couldn't think he was trying to steal her from him; avoid being a target.
"Manuel's... People don't always get me an' him. We've been though a lot together, an' he understands me better than most." Amanda caught Charlie's hesitation and bit back a sigh. At least he wasn't putting her through another round of 'your boyfriend's an asshole'. And at least Manuel had apparently behaved himself better than he had with Bethany. "His power gives people the creeps, t' put it bluntly - 's not easy, bein' a psi, an' emotions are like sacred ground, almost." She shrugged a little. "Doesn't matter. So, how bad an impression did I make on yer mum? Talkin' of not bein' prepared an' all."
"Astonishingly bad, but to be honest, most people get the same. She's difficult to please." Charlie shrugged, glad to be off the topic of Manuel. Especially since outwardly, he'd been nothing but nice to him. "Unless you're the daughter of someone important, and only if you're a well groomed daughter at that, you're not going to impress her much."
"I hate t' say it, mate, but yer mum's a snobby bitch." Amanda wasn't overly bothered, though, as long as it didn't interfere with the friendship. "So, 'm guessin' it'll be a while before you get another lift out t' the school from her, then?"
"I'm likely on the bus, yeah." Charlie said, resting his elbows on his knees and letting his hands dangle. "And she's not so bad, you know. It's just, well, since Dad left, she's gotten more driven about things. He took off with some young student from his class, and she's got this image in her head."
Charlie shook his head, speaking cautiously, obviously not comfortable with the subject, but feeling that he had to say something. "You don't understand that she's come up from pretty much nothing. Nearly failed out of law school because she got pregnant and had me. Then Dad was gone for almost two years with the Army, and she got stuck taking care of a four year old while trying to keep her career going. Four years later, my dad takes off with some girl without a look back. Now she's successful, and she's got it in her head that she can stop the same kind of pain from happening to me."
"An' how is bein' friends with me meant t' fuck up yer life?" Amanda asked, not entirely unsympathetic, but not liking how Charlie was making excuses for his mother. Then again, what did she know about normal families? "It just seems t' me that a lot of this makin' sure things work for you is happenin' without you bein' asked what it is you want in the first place, mate. Take Harvard - 's bleedin' obvious you don't want t' go there. An' this school of yers isn't exactly yer favourite place either, from the little bits you've told me."
"No, it's not. But it is a direct pass to any university on the East Coast. And yeah, you're right about Harvard too. I'm not interested in law. But making a living doing this? I hate to say it, but outside of Xavier's, there's not a lot of call for thaumaturgical studies." Charlie took a deep breath, trying to keep a touch of anger out of his voice. "She's doing what she thinks is best for me. So yeah, sometimes she is a bitch. But she's the only one that hasn't run out on me yet."
Amanda winced at that last. Definitely something she could relate to. "I'm sorry," she said at last. "It's just... I don't like seein' me friends not happy, an' while there's not a lot of use for what we do out there, law's not the only thing you can do either. Look at Strange - he's made a livin' out of the books an' languages an' the like. It just seems like you're lettin' people push you into somethin' you aren't, just t' keep the peace." Amanda looked down unhappily at her hands, tearing blades of grass into fragments. It wasn't that she wanted to pick a fight, but she knew Charlie wasn't weak - he'd argue with Forge or herself if he believed he had a point. And this was his life... how was it less important to him?
"Well, sometimes you have to think about other people first." Charlie was in control still, but desperately wanted out of this particular conversation. "It's important to her, and, well, it's not like I'll ever stop doing this. Or be a lawyer for the rest of my life. But I'm all she's got too, and I don't think you can understand what that's like. So, can we just drop it for now?"
She was stung by the last bit, not the least because it was true, at least in part. "There's thinkin' of others an' then there's lettin' 'em run roughshod all over you," she practically muttered. "An' you do that, Charlie."
"Amanda, how do you know?" The thread of control snapped clean inside Charlie. "You don't go to my school. You don't live in my house. Your window into my life consists of weekly meetings and e-mail. So, you'll excuse me if I tell you that you really don't have either the information or the right to make that kind of statement."
Charlie pulled off his glasses and began cleaning them furiously. "You've got your view of the world, and every time something doesn't fit, you start telling me why it should. But it's not that simple. You have the luxury of being able to sit in the big mansion, surrounded by your friends, and tell me what you think I ought to be doing. But I'm the one that has to live my life, and I think I might know a little more about it than you do."
"I've got fuckin' eyes, Charlie, an' maybe I don't see you that often, but the times I do? I notice things. I notice the way you bolt off home in a panic if we lose track of time. I notice the way you never talk 'bout anythin' in yer life except the magic unless I straight-out ask you a question, an' even then you don't give me a straight answer. I saw the way you stepped back an' let yer mum take charge of things when she dropped you off at the school, the shite she was givin' you for yer maths grade - 'cause an 83's so fuckin' _low_!" Sarcasm dripped from the last word. "But you're right, I don't see you enough t' make that call. So you tell me you're happy with the way things are, that I'm wrong an' there's nothin' that ought t' be different, an' I'll shut up an' go back t' me fuckin' mansion an' leave you to it."
"Maybe you should do that." Charlie got to his feet and picked up his bag. "And the next time you feel the need to start insulting people, maybe you shouldn't start with my mother. It's impolite." He put his glasses on, turned his back, and walked away, leaving her sitting alone under the tree.
"Charlie..." Amanda began, but it was already too late, he'd gone. "Fuck," she said miserably, trying to figure out just where the conversation had gone so horribly wrong. Probably when she'd called Charlie's mother a snobby bitch. "Oh yeah, that was bloody brilliant," she muttered to herself, picking up her bag and pulling out her phone. There was still another hour or two before Remy picked her up, but somehow she didn't really feel like sticking around here any more. Better to go back to the school and work on her communication skills.
