xp_logs | LOG: Forge and Amanda, Wednesday evening (Reply)

After Forge's email, Amanda decides to come clean about avoiding people the past few weeks. Some rather insightful and educational discussion ensues, and Forge gets tricked into going out. Again. The poor boy.

This wasn't going to be a bitch session, Amanda told herself. She'd just explain to Forge that she and Paige had had an argument, and that trespassing on other people's lives had come up, and then at least he wouldn't think she was totally barking insane any more. Well, hopefully. It was obvious Forge was is his room - his music was generally as hard to miss as hers, and she had to raise her voice to get his attention. "Hey."

Reaching over to dull the volume on his speakers, Forge spun in his chair to see Amanda in the doorway to the suite. "Hey, Amanda!" he called loudly, ears still ringing from the last guitar solo. Motioning her over to the small couch, he walked over to the kitchenette. "Get you anything? Water, soda... cod liver oil... good god, I hope that's Kyle's..."

"Beer?" Amanda suggested, then grinned at the expression on Forge's face. "Nah, just jokin'. Soda's fine, as long as it isn't that Jolt stuff." She sat on the sofa in her usual curled-up position, but there was a definite relaxation in the tension she'd been carrying. Seeing Nathan's expression when he'd seen the pictures had been better than a full night's sleep.

Forge came out of the kitchen and tossed a cola to Amanda, perching on the other end of the couch. "So," he asked earnestly, "what gives? You've been all sorts of on edge lately, even outside from the whole hiding-from-the-world thing. Pretty much ever since that big body image argument thing, if I recall." Not that she's got anything to be shy ABOUT, Forge silently thought, then mentally throttled himself, very glad Manuel wasn't around at the moment.

Amanda actually blushed a little at the reminder. Oh yes, that had been an exercise in backsliding. "Since before that," she admitted, fiddling with the can between her hands without actually opening it yet. "Pete's my guardian," she explained. "When he left... it was hard. Still is. He's the first person who actually gave a shite an' now he's gone." She shrugged a little. "Where I'm from... I've got a history of people dumpin' me in the too-hard pile. Had a list of social workers as long as yer arm."

Forge pondered that for a while. "Hm. That why you tend to be all protective about people who're nice to you? I mean, you nearly melted your brain out your nose for Jay, and if Doctor McCoy would let you, you'd burn yourself out trying to heal Mr. Dayspring. Word is you and Manuel have gone through hell for each other - I get it. You do stuff for them, they won't leave, right?" He nodded slowly. "I guess that sounds logical."

Blinking at him, Amanda nodded slowly. "Yeah, that's part of it. The other is... I got brought up as a mystic energy source for a right bastard. All my life I thought my family had sold me to him 'cause of me power - which turned out t' be a lie, but I've only just found that out. Fucker's dead now, but I'm still dealin' with a lot of shite. How I see meself is one of 'em - it's always been about how useful I am, t' me. If I can't do things for people, what goood am I?" She wasn't sure why she was telling him this, except that he'd been perceptive enough about the healing.

"Least you were useful," Forge admitted. "My parents just liked to pretend everything was normal. Where I grew up... it wasn't as bad as a lot of places, I mean, we had a nice house and everything. But it wasn't Brighton. You didn't have to be an obvious mutant to get singled out. You just had to be the shy kid, or the smart one, or the small one. Lucky me, I got all three." He took a long drink off his soda, then continued. "So I did stupid things to get noticed. Turned out to be real stupid. But then I wind up here, where everyone's different. And, y'know, I don't have to TRY and stand out to stand out."

"You ask me," he said casually, "I'd figure you've got more than enough people concerned about you and who care about you to worry about feeling useful. Believe me, I got that lecture a while back." He rubbed the back of his head sympathetically, remembering the good cuff upside the skull Catseye had given him.

"I'm workin' on it, believe me," Amanda said with a roll of her eyes, finally opening the can and taking a sip. "'S just gunna take a while - an' I tend t' backslide a bit, like with that body image stuff. I know no-one here gives a toss 'bout the fact me back looks like a friggin' road map, but that still doesn't stop me from feelin' like a freak every time I wear a bathin' suit." Pausing again, she thought for a minute before continuing. "Paige said the same thing, pretty much, only with more threats t' break bits an' tellin' me I didn't appreciate what I had. I think I like yer way better."

"Paige threatened you?" Forge was incredulous. "Wow. That doesn't seem like her. But hey, for all I know it could be her M.O. She's more guarded than Fort Knox." He shrugged, finishing his drink and leaning back against the arm of the sofa. "And yeah, I hear you about the scars thing. Not like anyone's clamoring to get me out in a speedo when the weather's good as it is, but they're just one extra argument against it. People don't seem to understand that."

"The bindin' spell's broken, so they're just scars," Amanda agreed with another shrug, tucking her legs up underneath her. "But I spent so long hidin' 'em... Habits're hard t' break." She frowned, thinking of Paige. "It wasn't like her, 'least, not the her I thought I knew. I shared a room with the girl for more 'n half a year, thought she was a friend... well, as much of a friend as you can be, with Paige. I figured after all that, if she had a problem with somethin' I was doin', she'd tell me before it drove her nuts. Guess yer folks weren't the only ones t' pretend everythin' was normal."

Forge shrugged slightly. "For whatever reason, she's closed up like that. I've got no idea why, I mean, I'm not exactly Captain Expressive myself. She's amazing otherwise, just... yeah, like a brick wall at some point. She's got to plan everything, it's just how she is. Not like you, for example. You're all about Miss Impulsive. See, I couldn't do that."

Amanda couldn't help the snicker. "Yeah, well, sometimes thinkin' would be a good thing occasionally - half of me problem with the magic is that it's the first thing I go for, even when there's other ways 'round it. An' the thing with Paige... I opened me mouth without thinkin', 'cause I was shirty an' so was she an' it felt like she was havin' a go at me for missin' Pete, an' now I don't know how t' fix it. Or even if I want to - friends don't go 'round makin' threats t' break yer jaw, 'specially if you've already had the fuck beaten out of you a couple of times in the last six months." She shrugged, pushing the thought of that DVD out of her head. She really didn't want to start thinking about Alphonso again. "She seems t' think I've got this weird power of makin' everyone like me, which is why I backed off with you an' Kit-Kat. Didn't want t' be accused of pushin' me way into another thing that's hers. Fuck, I'd be avoidin' Angelo, if I could - can't help her knowin' he's best mates with the girl she hates." And didn't that sound familiar?

Forge shrugged. "If I'm anyone's, it's news to me. I like Paige. She's smart, funny, gorgeous... did I mention smart? Scary freaky chem nerd, but in a good way. I mean, it's nothing beyond that, I'm not fooling myself. But she's great to hang around with." He glanced over at Amanda. "And then there's you. You're all moody and with the yelling and 'fuck everybody' and storming around and stuff. But you also sit and listen, and you understand, and you try and help me learn how to talk to people without getting all weird. And if you two hate each other?" He raised his hands in frustration, "Hell if I can do anything about it."

"Didn't mean in it that way - I know you two're friends, an' that doesn't bother me, but it does bother her, me bein' yer friend as well. There's a whole lot of shite botherin' me at the moment, which is why the moody. I just figured keepin' me distance was the easiest way t' do things." She grimaced a little. "Easiest isn't always the best, tho' - you're all right, for the scary science types. A bit like Angie - normal enough without makin' me feel like a complete freak. I don't hate her, but she's made it clear what she thinks of me, so I've been givin' her space. But 's not fair t' drag you into it, so I"m not. Just wanted t' tell you what was goin' on before you wrote us both off as bein' permanently pre-menstral."

Forge raised an eyebrow at the comparison. Marie-Ange was the absolute last person in the mansion he felt anything in common with, to be honest. "If you say so. You've got a lot of stuff going on, and a lot you're not saying," he held up a finger to halt the inevitable protest. "Hey, you don't have to explain anything. You watch people long enough, you start to learn when they're trying real hard not to talk about something. But yeah, you've got stuff going on that's got you on edge. You think Paige might have the same? I mean, despite all the rumors, I'm sure her life's far from perfect. Given that half her boyfriends are currently disembodied psionic entities can't be easy on her."

Amanda shrugged. "P'raps. Difference is, I can't say - 's not allowed. I would if I could, believe me. Paige? She's not sayin', not askin' for help, not even admittin' that things're gettin' to her. An' maybe things're different for different people, but the last time I did that..." She only paused a little before telling him - he'd always been straight with her, as far as she could tell. "I ended up on the roof, ready t' jump. 'M worried for her, but I dunno what t' do. Can't make her talk, can't make her ask for help. That's gotta come from her, in the end, an' I doubt now I'll be the one she goes to."

"Plenty of people to talk to here," Forge agreed, "you've just got to find the ones who care enough to listen. And for the record," he added with a shrug and a sly wink, "I don't think you'd look like a freak in a bathing suit. Makes one almost wish for a quick summer."

She laughed at that last, reaching over to playfully (and gently) slap his shoulder. "You weren't jokin' 'bout bein' a fast learner, were you?" she told him, relaxing visibly. He'd given her something to think about, but for now she was happy to leave the serious talk behind. "Won't be long 'fore you're charmin' girls as much as Remy used to."

"I only wish," Forge joked. "Seems nearly everyone here's already hooked up with someone," TWO someones in some cases, he reminded himself silently, "or runs a significantly non-zero chance of literally biting my head off at the shoulders at some point. But like you said, hey, fast learner, right?"

"As people keep remindin' me, there's more t' life than this place - big ol' world out there for you t' practice on." Amanda remembered the long-neglected soda, and had several mouthfuls. "Y'know, once things settle enough 'round here for me t' go back t' Strange's classes in the mornin', you could come hang out in New York with me. See how much trouble we can get up to, inflict yer charm on the unsuspectin'."

Forge's mind flashed back to the girl at Columbia, and a look of disappointment washed over his face briefly. "This outside world you speak of intrigues me, and I would like to subscribe to your newsletter. Yeah, I'd like to go out with you. To New York. For charming purposes. My purposes, I mean... er, that is..." He stammered for a moment, then waved his hand in mock panic. "Yeah, yeah. Sounds like a good idea."

"Consider it a practical exam," Amanda told him.