It seemed like it would never happen. Locke had been bitten by the crush bug. That's not to say that someone had a crush on him, at least none that he was aware of. You never really knew when someone had a crush on you unless they had done something to make it obvious. Given that the closest thing Locke had to a confession of feelings was Chase turning into a psychopathic mother that wanted to cause him harm, it was probably safe to say nobody was pursuing him romantically.

But that was beside the point. What was significant was that Locke had a crush on someone. He wasn't called Rock man because of his mutation, but rather by how he never really changed. If Locke was excited he was more like Jamie than Adam from the Mythbusters. Negative feelings usually were bottled up tighter than a jar of pickles. So for him to actually feel anything that could be considered "mushy" was kind of a big deal. Eaan would have a field day with this.

Which is why he sought out the counsel of someone who was similar to his best friend, but lacked, he thought, the desire to gloat and taunt him. Gina might not be the one to pick to watch a Saw marathon, but she had a reputation as a great hugger. Plus she was a girl. Her mind thought girly things. She would know how best to go about this situation.

Locke knocked on the door to her room. It was within visiting hours. Besides which, anyone who knew him would know there was no risk of unethical behavior happening. Locke could barely look a girl his age in the face without wanting to hide. How could he possibly be messing around. "Hey Gina, gotta minute?" he asked, tugging his shirt sleeves down. Please don't let her squee or pick on me or ask for every single little detail.[/color]

Gina was browsing cute outfits online, and jotting casual notes in her sketchbook. Her gaze was trained upon the screen, and she was quietly murmuring to herself as she jotted quick sketches and annotated them, even going so far as to make notes about how to modify the clothes to accommodate her wings. Agnes was off somewhere which meant that the little gargoyle had the room to herself. She was humming quietly when a knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.

“Hm?” she made a faint, inquiring noise, her eyebrows arching.

>> "Hey Gina, gotta minute?"

Gina unfolded herself from her bed, straightening her t-shirt and adjusting her jean shorts as she went. Now, that was a familiar voice that she hadn’t heard in a while—she gave a call of, “Hold on, just a second.”

—before migrating towards the door, running a hand through her hair. It was only Locke, but she still needed to look somewhat presentable. The gargoyle opened the door and peered out, casually leaning against the jamb.

“Hey Locke,” she greeted, “Long time, no see. What’s up?”

It was for the best that Locke had lost the bid for a date with Gina. For one thing he wasn't able to leave the mansion at the time, which would have left the two of them would be left with only the school to go around in. Secondly given how he was approaching her about how to get a girl to like him it probably would be a good idea to not make her think he was chasing after her. Gina was a friend. To date her would be like dating Eaan, minus the guitars. Weird.

While Gina had preened herself before going to the door Locke had done nothing to make himself more presentable. He dressed as he always did, long sleeves under two t-shirts, jeans that had dirt stuck to the bottoms of them, and thin soled high tops. Why bother spending money on new clothes when these weren't in that bad shape, minus possibly his shoes, and the dirt stuck to him anyways.

It took Locke a few seconds before he was able to answer Gina's question. She was, after all, a girl and talking to them did not come easily. If it did he would have no need to seek her help. There wasn't anyone else that he felt that he could talk to about these sort of things. The memory of Gina giving directions to the characters in Zombieland and squeezing the ever-loving stuffing out of a pillow snapped him back into conversation mode. "You're a girl right?" he asked.

The gears were apparently turning in Locke's head, and it took a few moments for his brain to catch up with mouth. There was a heavy pause, and then Locke made an inquiry. In no way did he respond to Gina's question, just asked if she was a girl. Gina let out a soft laugh, peering down the halls. Her kneejerk reaction was to wonder if this was a joke, or if Locke was really just that awkward. She saw no male bystanders. He was simply that awkward. Gina looked towards Locke again.

"Yes, Locke," she confirmed, "That's why I live in the girls' wing of the dormitories."

Her tone was patient and polite, if not mildly humored by the inquiry. Gina continued her leaning against the door jamb, her gaze momentarily retreating over her shoulder. Her room wasn't in too terrible of a state, and there wasn't any loose panties or bras floating about, either. Gina redirected her attention towards the boy before her.

"Would you like to come in?" she offered, "The room isn't in too much disarray."

The fact that Locke was struggling to talk with Gina was proof enough for him that he needed to get advise quickly. She was smaller than the girl that he liked, and the wings helped to make Gina seem more human rather than an imposing thing that he couldn't even look at. Locke wanted to get a date with someone that was taller, and to his knowledge, not winged. Gina should be easy to talk to. Even if they were off to a bad start. "Oh, yeah," he mumbled when Gina pointed out that she was a girl, and that's why her room was where it was.

Locke hadn't gone into a girl's room before, not really. Kendra's room was at first his dad's, and the twins shared a room. It was weird to think that a guy's room might be cleaner. Generally speaking they had larger messes. Then again Locke was meticulous about keeping his room orderly. Maybe it was fear of the darkness making him want to have nothing that could look like a monster, but more likely it was that he didn't want to trip over anything. Thankfully the invitation into her room wouldn't require more than just a nod of the head.

He'd have to do more than just nod if he wanted to impress his crush though, which meant he'd have to get to the point sooner or later. Preferably sooner. "You got a nice share of bids on Valentine's. Who won in the end?" he asked. About two nano seconds after asking it he realized that it was a dumb thing to say. He wanted Gina as a friend and going from that into him liking a girl might be threatening. Could he just blame it on his insanity gene? No, that would make things worse.

Gina smiled and stepped aside to allow Locke past, and into her room.

“Have a seat wherever,” Gina offered casually, closing the door behind him. The room was actually relatively clean, for her and Agnes’s usual state of disarray in the room. Not a room she was embarrassed to let a guy enter into. Gina sank into the seat at her desk, deciding that it’d be a little less weird to sit in desk chairs and talk, then to talk while sitting on their beds.

She sank into her desk chair, which was actually just a rotating stool, crossing one leg over the other casually.

“Who won?” Gina echoed, “Oh—a boy named Koga. He’s a reptilian boy, training to be an X-Man.”

Gina smiled warmly at the recollection of the date. Koga had been so charming, such a gentleman. She wouldn’t mind another date or two… or perhaps three… with him. Gina didn’t think much of the inquiry—her brain just didn’t work quite like that.

“So what’s up?” Gina inquired. It wasn’t that she didn’t mind just chatting, it was just that… Locke didn’t seem like a guy to just go and talk to girl. He had to have something to say.

"Ah, Koga," Locke said, as though he knew who that was. Reptile helped a little, but there were plenty of lizardy mutants around in New York and he wasn't sure which one was the one at the school That was the problem with staying in your own room. You tend to not know anyone who would be outside of it. But Locke not only wanted that private space, he needed it. It's hard to find someone who will put up with a nightlight and music.

As hard as he might try, Locke could not think of a good segue from the date auction to his dilemma. Sure both were a matter of romance, sort of, but Gina probably didn't know that Locke had made any bids at the auction. Gina, being the exuberant type, asked "what's up", and words tumbled out of Locke's mouth before he even realized he was making noise. "There's a girl I like." He sat there in Gina's roommate's desk, blinking in surprise at his statement. Alright so he knew that he liked the girl, but he didn't actually say it out loud before now. It is quite different when you keep the feelings private and quiet, but that wasn't an option now. The words were floating out in space and were unretractable.

Before Locke could get his bearings there was a high pitched noise, not unlike someone letting the air out of balloons very slowly. His eyes grew wide and he ducked his head. It was one of the things that he had hoped to avoid. Gina was squeeing like a little kid with candy. Squees were not a good thing. It meant that he was going to get humiliated by his peer. Nobody should be able to make that noise.

The words stumbled awkwardly out of Lockes’ mouth, his fumbling mind permitting for a momentary lapse in inhibition. There was a girl that he liked. Oh. My. Gosh.

There was a girl that he liked, and he was coming to Gina for help, wasn’t he?! Wasn’t he? In her own, momentary lapse of inhibition, Gina squee’d. She hadn’t meant to—having three brothers, she knew that an appropriate response to such a confession was most certainly not squealing at how cute said confession was, but she couldn’t help it.

Locke was just so awkward and adorable, in that nerdy kind of way, and he was coming to Gina for girl advice. It was just so squee-worthy. Gina realized what she was doing when Locke donned the “deer in the headlights” look and quickly averted his eyes in embarrassment. Gina fell silent, giggling faintly.

“That’s so cute,” she murmured, covering her mouth with a hand. Locke looked like he was going to melt into his chair, “I’m sorry. I’ll try and contain myself. It’s just-” he was so dorky and adorable, as was the entire situation, “I’m sorry. Continue. I’ll behave.”

Dogs within a five mile radius might very well have gone deaf at the sound Gina was capable of making. Didn't she say that she had brothers? Surely they must have gotten some of that out of her, or drilled into her mind that guys don't go around squeeing over every announcement. If the squee wasn't bad enough, she was now giggling over it. That was almost worse than her girlish squeal. He could deal with the noise she first made, after all he did have a little sister who enjoyed small fuzzy critters, but having a girl laugh at him was one of the main reasons why he thought it best to keep his mouth shut.

Gina promised that she would do the same with hers if he were to continue. Did he really want to? All he had said thus far was that there was a girl he liked and Gina had done both of the things he had feared the most. Saying that he liked a girl was one thing. The world was populated with them and he could be mentioning any one of them. Telling Gina about her would just make it that more humiliating. You don't flash bad test scores to other students. It wasn't that Locke was ashamed of his crush. She wasn't some sort of monster from what he could tell. It was just he didn't know if he wanted to keep it to himself or not.

"She works at Barnes and Noble," Locke said. Gina probably wanted more detail than that, like what she was like. To be honest Locke didn't know much about her other than her job and basic appearance. What he liked was that she didn't even notice the scar or the dead eye. There had been no quick glance at it and then averted gaze. She looked him straight in the face two without any shock. "About so tall. Dark hair, or maybe it's light. Dunno, hard to tell with the way it's cut."

As Gina settled down, Locke divulged the secrets of his crush to her. She worked at Barnes and Noble. And was of a moderate height, and Locke couldn't tell what color her hair was. Gina wore a small smile. It was nerd-love at its prime. And it was so adorable. Gina did not squee this time, but the small smile that she wore on her lips showed that she really, really wanted to.

"Aw," Gina cooed momentarily, helping to relieve the urge to squeal. She then continued in a normative tone, as she proceded to give Locke something of the third degree, "So... have you talked to her any? Given her your number, asked her out...?"

She was beaming as she asked this, her tone maintaining a kind lilt as she pressed on, "Know her name?"

She wasn't being condescending, she was being realistic. Locke reminded her so much of Maxwell, it was scary-- and Maxwell got so turned-around when he was talking to girls that he could sit and stumble through a conversation with one for an hour, and leave not knowing her name, or the color of her hair or eyes just after they spoke. It was some of the basic things that Maxwell tended to miss out on, some of the crucial things, so Gina wanted to see where Locke was standing in this dating process.

She could tell Locke was bashful about the whole ordeal, but Gina was trying to put on a reassuring face.

"I have no number," Locke said. Maybe he should look into getting a cell phone. Not just because of the Barnes and Noble girl, and not because he was at last ready to enter the dating world. This was the second time in recent history someone assumed that Locke had a phone. It was something that most teens had, and it would help with talking to his family back in California. The phone thing was less humiliating to think about than if he had talked to her. Did nodding his head and saying "Thanks" count as talking? Well, it was more than he usually was able to get out, but it sure wasn't asking for a date.

Gina was loving this, which fueled Locke's belief that women are evil. Not in the "Ew gross!" way that Chris viewed them (Mai excluded of course), but the criminal mastermind sitting in a swivel chair with the fluffy white cat. He had no doubt that the fairer sex controlled the world. They were born with a look that made all men fear for their safety. Right now Locke was trying to figure out Jigsaw's odds if he ever went up against the petite gargoyle. If it was John Kramer there might be a chance, but the other Jigsaw killers wouldn't stand a chance.

"Her name is K.D" Locke said, remembering what he had read off the name badge. He had only been able to hold K.D's gaze for a few seconds before his head had been drawn to the counter. Gravity tended to hit his head heavy when someone he thought was attractive was paying attention to him. Her name tag had been bent slightly, sandwiched between her body and the counter. K.D. might stand for something, but Locke hadn't found out what yet. Should he approach her at the store? Would that be too much like a stalker? Not like he was sending her pictures or disturbing messages of unreturned love.

He had no number, and her name was KD. That was a start. But it was a tricky start. What had Locke come for, anyways? Advice? To gush? (Did guys even gush? Gina knew they boasted about their women, if they were anything like Dante, but did they ever gush at all...?) Gina allowed her chair to sway from side-to-side, propelling herself with her toes whilst she sat, her gaze remaining ever-steady on Locke. She was still enjoying every moment of this, and made no attempt to hide it.

She was so close to going into full-blown matchmaker mode, but Gina restrained herself, examining her clawed hand momentarily, before peering towards Locke.

"That's a start," Gina admitted, in regards to the name. At least Locke had that, "So what do you need me for?"

That was tactful. See if he really wanted help, then go into full-blown matchmaker mode if and only if Locke wanted it. He had to have come to Ging for some reason or another. It was only a matter of figuring out why.

Now that Gina had gotten out some of her girly excitement maybe Locke could get her to be of more help. ”I'm not that good with talking to girls,” Locke said. That much was obvious by now. It struck the poor guy that what he said might bother Gina. ”You're different,” crap that sounded worse, ”I mean that you're not like other girls. I mean...” Crud how do you get yourself out of a hole you've dug yourself into? It wasn't as if Locke was unable to say words. He just couldn't say what he meant when there was estrogen present. ”Help please,” Locke pleaded, ”Before I end up in China.”

What he needed, besides insight into the female mind, was to know how to talk around a girl. He wasn't going to be able to ask K.D out for a date if he couldn't even talk to her. Talking to her was only half the battle. Should Locke be able to say the right words there was still the chance, the very likely chance that he would fall over his feet, or knock over a display, or some other spectacular display of idiot boyness. He had been taught how to dance, and he had pretty good rhythm, so that was one thing she wouldn't necessarily have to help him out with.

This was probably a Herculean task that Locke was asking to undertake. What was the protocol for a situation like this? Usually with asking people for help with personal issues you offer to do them a favor. There probably wasn't an equal favor to do in return. Locke had problems with picturing Gina needing dating advice. That was why he came to her in the first place. To his knowledge she didn't have a crush on anyone. This wasn't like asking someone to help you move, where you can just thank them with a pizza.

Gina smiled understandingly as Locke confessed that he wasn't very good at talking to girls. Obviously. Gina leaned her head against her hand as Locke said that Gina was different-- yeah, she was a friend, not a crush. But apparently, Locke had seen fault in what he had said, for he quickly attempted to rephrase, and wound-up stumbling over his words.

Fortunately enough, Gina was wiser than to take offense to allegedly-Freudian slips. He was just too nice of a guy, however awkward, and stumbling over words just wasn't something Gina would take offense to. In fact, the fact that he was floundering over not calling attention to the fact that Gina was different showed that he was considerate enough to care.

"It's fine, I get what you're saying," Gina grinned, "Don't freak out on me, Locke."

Gina casually swung the chair back and forth a few times, contemplatively, before swinging back around to face Locke.

"There isn't really any secret that makes you better at talking to the opposite gender," Gina explained, still smiling, "Mostly, it's just practice. The more you do it, the easier it gets, y'know?"

Gina, it seems, did not have the secrets to talking to a girl that Locke had been hoping for. Or maybe she did and it was some sort of girl code to leave guys perpetually in the dark. Either option wasn't all that appealing, because at the end of the day Locke was still left high and dry. At least she didn't seem to be so offended when Locke tried to say it was easier to talk to her because she wasn't simply a female. She was a friend, and reminded him very much of one that he had already. There wasn't any pressure to act cool and suave around her, because she already had seen the dork side, and it wasn't pretty. ”That's bull. Things don't get easier with practice,” Locke called Gina out, ”Not unless all girls are exactly the same, and I know that's not true... you can stand Zombieland better than others.”

It was a joke of sorts. Gina might have chuckled at a few things in the movie, but she still had hid behind a pillow. In Locke’s experience girls didn’t show as much interest in horror movies as he did. Or at least they didn’t have the fascination in the cruddy ones or the B rated ones that were so bad they were good. ”Isn’t there anything that would work? Some sort of guidelines a guy has to follow to get the girl to like him?” Of course him asking that was going back on his earlier statement that girls weren’t the same. Even if Gina was a friend he still couldn’t talk to her in a way that made sense. Contradictions were, however, not the worse way he could mess up.

”I mean you always hear girls in movies and TV talking about what they want in a guy,” Locke said. While Gina spun about in her seat Locke stayed motionless. ”Seems like they always say ‘a great sense of humor’, but I know with guys that usually means something else. If it’s really about making her laugh, well… I’m screwed.” Comedy was not Locke’s forte. He didn’t guffaw, giggle, or laugh much. When it came to jokes it could be hard to tell if Locke had cracked one or not.