Disclaimer: "Oh, you've got to hide your love away..."

(An: This started as a request fic for my friend Blondebynature involving Sissi, Ulrich, and blue Jello... and now it's longer and OxS. Go figure. Oh, btw, I have no idea if lupines grow in France. But it's lilac season in my neck of the woods, and lupines are similiar, so I couldn't resist.)

"I think it's moving."

"Of course it's moving. It's Jello."

I wrinkled my nose at his dismissive tone. "I mean moving like it's about to scuttle off my plate and attempt world domination."

"So give it to Odd."

I propped my chin on my fist. It was hard to make conversation with Ulrich. Especially when the only thing I could think of to discuss was Jello- blue Jello, no less. The color was fitting- its strange, unreal quality matched our talk. I stabbed at the offending gelatin with my fork. It was hard, but I would do it anyway, since I enjoyed pain. "Odd wouldn't take it from me. He knows I'd poison it."

The mentioned annoyance looked up from his mashed potatoes long enough to pull a face at me.

I resisted the urge to make an equally childish retort and shifted my attention back to Ulrich.

He shrugged, his brown eyes unreadable. It was like talking to a rock... but a rock didn't have that lovely smile that made my heart turn over, the smile I was trying so desperately to earn...

Sighing, I shoved my slightly maimed Jello at Odd, who inspected it suspiciously before nodding at me.

"See? Odd'll eat anything," said Ulrich.

"And yet he's still a stick."

Odd, polite enough not to speak with his mouth full, was still rude enough to respond with a nasty gesture.

"And your mother with a wharf rat," I replied.

Silence becamse the fourth person at our table, slinging an arm around Ulrich and leering at me.

I rubbed my temples, closing my eyes to block out its grin. Whatever you do, just don't bring up the weather. You're not that pathetic! ...yet... Wishing the voice in my head was a physical entity so I could pound it into the ground, I slumped over the table. "Why do I even try?" I mumbled, hoping the smooth plastic would have an answer.

Instead, Ulrich did. "Because you're you. It's very annoying at times, but at least you don't lie." I looked up, staring at him. But he just got up and walked away with no explanation to his curious statement.

My pondering over it was interrupted by Odd's voice. "Are you going to eat that?"

After shoving my mashed potatoes in his face, I stormed off.

O-o-O-o-O

I sighed softly. From my bench, I had a perfect view of Ulrich and Yumi, lying in the grass and shoving each other. Finally Ulrich got sick of it and rolled over, trapping Yumi beneath him while she giggled helplessly. If I kept my eyes closed, I could imagine he was whispering those wonderful things in my ear instead of hers.

I wanted to hate him, I really did. But there were moments- like the one at lunch- where I could actually delude myself into thinking he cared.

Pessimism, sadly, is one of the least easily remedied symptoms of unrequited love; it's very hard to think that anything matters when the person in question thinks you don't. Jealousy, melancholy, and that ache- oh! the feeling that comes when you see them with someone else and your heart howls- that ache are all part of the gift basket, too.

I took a deep breath and stood up. Since I still had my eyes closed, I took one step and tripped over something. At the yelp, I realized it was actually someone. "Della Robbia, if you did that on purpouse," I growled. At the moment, I lacked the imagination to finish my threat, but I knew I could come up with something evil if I needed to.

"I didn't, for once," said Odd. "Could you get off me? It's getting hard to breathe."

I flipped up, sitting on my heels in an awkward crouch.

Odd got up, rubbing his ankle. "Ow. Have you ever considered martial arts?"

I glared at him, wishing that its power would make him shrivel up on the spot. "Why were you sneaking up on me?"

"I wasn't sneaking up on you." When my eyebrow went up, he replied, "I didn't want to disturb you. You seemed deeply involved in your sulking."

"Sulking?" I gasped.

"Well, that's what I'd call sitting with your eyes closed and your arms crossed blatantly not caring about them," he nodded at Ulrich and Yumi, who hadn't so much as sneezed in our direction.

I wanted to slap him so badly right then, more than I ever had in my life (and that's saying something).

Odd, however, was apparently unaware of (or ignoring) my murderous intent, as he continued. He held up a purplish-blue flower- it looked like a lupine. It would have been easier to tell what it was if it hadn't been crushed and limp. "I wanted to give you this- I figured the color went with your mood." He was studying the battered plant rather than me as he spoke.

I frowned. Odd being so thoughtful was an immediate cause for distrust- I'd learned quickly that if Odd was nice to me, it meant that the pain he would deliver later would be that much worse. "That's the nicest thing you've ever done," I said, when no insults seemed forthcoming. "What's your angle?"

"No angle. You just looked like you needed cheering up." He gestured vaguely at the couple on the lawn again. "I mean, it's hard not to get depressed around them, knowing you'll never have anything like that." Now he was looking at me, and something in his gaze made my position even more uncomfortable.

I shifted so I was sitting flat on the grass, massaging my sore knees. "Why wouldn't I ever have anything like that?"

"I meant with him. Because, certainly," here his voice took on the strangeness of his demeanor, "you wouldn't take it from anyone else."

My frown became confused, but it was still a frown. "What are you getting at, Odd?"

He looked at me at the use of his normal (well, first) name. I usually used his last, slathering as much scorn on the five syllables as possible. To him, my use of his given name was probably as strange as his kindness was to me. Then he shook his head, as though at some foolish thought, and walked off, dropping the lupine into my lap.

I fingered it, gazing at it as though it could tell me what I'd missed.

O-o-O-o-O

I stared at myself in the mirror, smoothing my hands over the deep cerulean folds of my shirt. It was very pretty, and it had no design, unlike the heart blouse I usually wore. Paired with a sapphire-colored headband and a black skirt, I felt like a pre-Cubism Picasso painting.

Outward dignity wasn't enough, though- I needed composure, too. If I was to face down a dance where I had no date and Ulrich had Yumi, I would need the patience of the Dalai Llama.

Possessing no spiritual guide, though, I was going to have to settle for myself and hope it was enough.

To sum things up, it wasn't. After flirting with all the boys I could stand, I had retreated to a seat by the punch bowl. My spirit was perilously close to broken, and it was all over some boy I wasn't even supposed to care about. If there was any mercy in the world, emotions would disappear when they were crushed. Rather, they popped up like detestable daisies, ending the flower/weed debate, and not in their favor.

"What're you in mourning for?" a voice murmured in my ear.

I jumped, nearly spilling my drink all over myself. Odd sat down beside me, a faint smirk on his face. My palm urged to meet his cheek, with a smack that would be so satisfying it would certainly be a sin. However, when I got over the shock of having him so close and actually processed his question, I found my anger dissipating. "My self-esteem," I mumbled.

"Don't take it personally. With Ulrich, there's Yumi... and then there's everyone else."

The annoying thing was I got what he meant, and I knew he was right. It didn't make the lump in my throat go away, though.

"You never had a shot, Sissi, no one did... hey, it's only fair, neither did I."

I looked at him. Incredulous isn't strong enough to describe my expression.

Odd snorted. "Not with him!" His smirk grew as he said, "Well, I suppose it would be handy, but no. I don't go for guys who do that flippy-hair thing."

I blinked.

Odd shook his head, grinning. "That's not what I meant, Sissi."

"Are you going to explain yourself this time, then, or are you gonna leave me hanging again?"

"I meant I never had a chance with my crush, either, stupid."

Still lost, I said, "Are we talking about Sam?"

"You really are thick- I suppose daydreams will gloss over the bad stuff..." He paused, then said, "We're talking about you."

If Napolean had appeared and tap-danced in his underwear in front of me, I don't think I could have been more flabbergasted.

Odd smiled. "Yes, it's funny how things work out, isn't it?" He took a napkin from the table and folded it up, flicking it away. Something about the action made me think he was contemplating something- but what?

I got my answer in due course. He reached up and tilted my face towards his, leaning forward until I could feel his breath. Rubbing his thumb across my cheek, he asked me a silent question. I nodded, all thoughts of Ulrich banished in favor of the here and the now and that little blue flower. And he kissed me, and my mood no longer complemented my shirt.

(Well, at eleven-thirty at night this bothers me, so it must be well enough. Before you ask, I like building on themes. Oh, and the beginning is a bit off because this was originally a drabble that got lengthened. It ended with Odd hitting Sissi up for her potatoes.)