Everything That Never Was - Marvel's Runaways

ii. facing ghosts

Gert Yorkes, member of Atlas Academy's very own dissembled Scooby gang, was giving a speech in front of her whole homeroom about some club she was forming that would "stick it to the patriarchy."  She hadn't changed much since the group had disbanded. She still had her strong beliefs and her activist ways. And she still had her thick-framed glasses. The only obvious difference between who she was two years ago and who she at that moment was her newly sported purple hair. But Jules knew that she couldn't see the the emotional scars underneath Gert's skin, scars Jules knew every one of the members of their ex-group had.

As Gert spoke, Jules really tried to pay attention to what she was saying, to show an ounce of respect to the girl she still very much admired, but she just couldn't bring herself to.  She was too distracted by the thoughts of the man with the bright light. The image of his large silhouette haunted her wherever she looked.  Her only escape became sketching him in her notebook because at least that she could control. Not that this sight was too uncommon, at least when she was at home.  Jules used her art as a way to take control of her life.  Right after her mother died and her father was convicted the Wilder's took her to a therapist to talk about what had happened.  Once she had admitted that she had somewhat of an appreciation for art, it was like the floodgates had opened, leading the therapist to suggest that the girl try to sketch her feelings and to the Wilder's building her her very own studio.  And it actually helped for the most part, though it didn't stop the dreams. That was why she mostly drew in private, her art was extremely personal and most of the time it only ever drew questions from those around her.

Jules only looked away from her drawing, when a shadow crossed in front of her.

"What are you drawing?"

Her heart stopped dead in her chest. Brandon Nicols— in all of his blond hair, blue eyed, I'm-better-than-you glory— stood over her desk in an attempt to seem like he was admiring her work.  It was someone she had spent her whole school career at Atlas trying to avoid: a tool bag known to use girls.  Jules's eyes quickly darted around the room trying to figure out why the boy was even talking to her?  Hadn't Gert just been presenting to the class?  When did she finish?  Everyone around Jules was talking as well, causing a dead feeling to settle into her stomach.  There was no way to get out of this.

In a futile effort, Jules covered her drawing with her arm, sending a pained smile toward the boy in front of her.  "Can I help you?"

Brandon replaced his faux curious expression with a suave smile.  It took everything in Jules's power not to roll her eyes at the playboy.  "You see," he said, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand as if trying to act shy, "there's this party tonight and I was wondering if you'd come?  I'd love to see you there, Julia."

Jules grinned at the very valid excuse he had just given her not to go.  "It's Jules," she corrected.  "But thanks for the invite."

The boy ran a hand through his blond hair before blushing bright red.  For a moment she almost felt bad for him.  Almost.  Just as quickly as he lost his composure, he regained it.  His hands gripped her desk, revealing the anger his face had kept hidden.  "Oh come on, Jules," he put emphasis on her correct name.  "You're not going to let that one screw-up mess it all up are you?"

"Actually, I am."

She watched his grip tighten with an almost sick amusement.  Before he could reply or act out on the matter, though, someone else stepped in.

"She doesn't want to go with you because she's going with me," Chase Stein, another ex-Scooby member, claimed, wrapping his arm around Jules's shoulders.  An action that only drew a suspicious glare out of the desperate girl.  It wasn't often Chase Stein took time out of his busy schedule of lacrosse and admiring Karolina Dean to deal with anyone else, especially after the infamous split.  So why now?  He squeezed her shoulder ever so slightly as an urge to get her to play along.