"Everybody loves me!" A shower of laughter washed through the room as Alfred F. Jones, a blonde, football player, a four-eyes, and the heartthrob of most girls in school, stood like a champion on the living room table roaring along with the song blaring from the large speakers. With a big bottle in one hand and pumping a fist with the other, he did a victory turn on the table, nodding his head and spurring on a new volley of applause and noise as the party officially hit its peak. The lighting was dim, the music blasting loud and the air stuffed, thick with sweat, the tinge of alcohol and hormonal students ready to lose their conscience to a wicked Friday night.

He jumped down, receiving several encouraging pats on the back for his little show. A girl hooked her fingers into the collar of his t-shirt and he let her drag him in close for a dance. He entertained her for the duration of two songs, then headed on outside which had been his original destination. Alfred had no idea whose house he was in, having been whisked there hours ago by his friends, drawn by the rumour of a sick party. It didn't matter much either, and he reckoned more than half of the people there were the exact same as him.

Out in the garden fresh air was a welcome change from the heavy indoors, even though here cigarette smoke and the distinct smell of weed was thick around him instead. Eyes roaming the scene he quickly spotted a familiar group laughing and chatting away. With a grin he headed for them.

Just as he got within earshot, he heard a blond, tall guy – a third year he knew quite well – say,

"Do you know The Gecko?" with a glint in his eye.

"Enlighten us," a smaller boy with patina blond hair said next to him, completely uninterested and rolling his eyes; indicating he had heard this before. With a small snicker, Alfred joined them.

"You know when you got a girl, right, and you're fucking her from behind against a wall," the third year took a pause for dramatic effect, the boys nodding appreciatively and the few girls in their midst either scoffing or giggling. Alfred on the other hand felt a sudden uncomfortable, and just like that it took all his focus to keep his smile. "The Gecko is when you pull your dick out, ram it up her ass and see how far up the wall she climbs. Just like a gecko." Laughter and a longer bragging of who had and who hadn't tried this out, accompanied by teasing of the present girls, ensued. Alfred partook in the lively ongoings, but had taken a subconscious half-step back. One of the girls squeaked, her neat brown hair flourishing around her head as she jumped when one of the boys slapped her butt playfully. She immediately retaliated verbally, the rest watching on amused. An arm slid around Alfred's shoulder, a mouth suddenly close to his ear, the grin distinct even though he could not see it.

"So, how's the virginity goin'?"

Alfred froze, his chest seizing up minutely before he recognised the voice and shook the intruder off to spin and face him with an angered –flustered– "Shh!". Alfred's eyes glanced around nervously, looking for anyone showing signs to have heard, a brief rush of relief loosening his rigid back when he found none. That however, didn't mean the albino now in front of him was in the clear.

"Chill, dude," the guy grinned, only sniggering loudly at Alfred's glare. "Everyone here knows you're a clean lilly."

"What do you mean everyone?" Alfred whispered, feeling a clammy chill grab at him. He must have visibly paled, or maybe it was the numb lack of force in his voice - either way the albino laughed again.

"Loosen up, Alfie," he patted Alfred hard on the back and began navigating through the crowd, Alfie (he grumbled at the nickname but said nothing) tailing after him to a table with a big bucket of punch. Not a bowl, a bucket. "No one knows, though I honestly doubt your popularity would die out, no matter what I tell people. Don't you worry, little heart-breaker." He winked; his tone was teasing, though he knew fully well a whole boatload of girls would go suicidal if they knew about Alfred's little secret… well, that other secret besides this one.

"I'm really flattered Gill, but what do you want?" the albino had seemed perfectly content with his friends in another part of the house last time Alfred spotted him; the guy, Gill, wouldn't have temporarily abandoned them and sought him out in the chaos for nothing.

"Just checking on my junior, awesome as I am," Gill took a sip of his newly acquired drink and Alfred shook his head slightly. He snorted a laugh despite himself, though the geniunitiy of his smile faded quickly enough.

Regardless of what people might say about third year's Gilbert Beilschmidt's boisterous behaviour, the subtle change was not lost on him. Putting down his cup on the table, he turned fully to Alfred, his face suddenly serious.

"Do you know Arthur Kirkland?"

Alfred's eyebrows joined his hair roots. That was a question out of the blue if ever he saw one, not to mention completely unnecessary.

"If I know him?" Alfred rolled his eyes. "He's only the school president." And the biggest pervert with the smartest mouth this side of the Atlantic. The president's rumour was a widespread one and how any of the teachers ever okayed him being the school's president was a mystery. After all; the guy read pornographic magazines openly in class (Alfred had even witnessed this first hand once when he passed their classroom). Maybe it had something to do with how he wore the school uniform correctly and to the T. Or maybe his British accent lulled the teachers into a false sense of security. The world worked in mysterious ways.

Gilbert nodded, waving his hand dismissively. "Yeah, well, I have it on good authority he doesn't mind one-nightstands, and doing guys as well as girls."

And there was that other secret of his that would cause the heartbreak of many a maiden right there:

"He's gay?" Alfred was surprised and not, at the same time. The infamous president's many magazines only held big-breasted women (as far as the rumours went anyway), but then again, the guy was British.

"Nah, but he doesn't mind doing them just for the fuck's sake. He's pretty lax that way," Gilbert said with a shrug. He looked at Alfred expectantly. "Wanna go for it?" Alfred's mouth gaped open and closed, trying to grab at words but finding absolutely nothing to say. Gilbert grinned. "C'mon, what've you got to lose?"

Alfred opened his mouth again, but slammed it shut before he could make a sound. He had been about to say "my virginity", but that would be more than a little stupidly hypocritical. He stayed quiet, Gilbert waiting with that same lewd grin. Then how about "my virginity to a freaking perv?" Alfred's thoughts supplemented. Hm, well, okay, maybe not. He was slowly starting to regret the slip of his tongue a late, drunk Saturday night when he confessed to Gilbert that he was indeed gay, a virgin and goddamn tired of it. The albino had been the first and only person Alfred had confided in about this ever, and why it had been that loud, crazy German he had opened up to in the end only alcohol could explain.

When Alfred still didn't say anything, Gilbert spoke instead.

"Don't worry, I'll check it out for you," he said with what was probably supposed to be a reassuring face, but looked more like he was choking on a laugh. "Francis has known him since they were both in diapers, it'll be easy enough." Alfred stared at him, and for only a moment that mischievous façade the senior always kept up, slipped. "It'll be alright," he said, then gave Alfred a solid slap on the back. "Soon, you can wave your virginity good bye for good," he winked. "It must really suck to be legal and have no-one to pop you, after all," he grimaced, saluted, and with that look off. Back to Antonio and Francis, no doubt, the senior's two closest friends. Francis. A sweaty chill ran down Alfred's back. He emptied his bottle in one big gulp, a groan on his lips, his thoughts churning nonstop, and a grumbling feeling of regret in his gut.

"Alfred!"

Monday mid-day, lunch had just ended, and reluctant students were scurrying to get to class – not too soon, but quickly enough not to risk the teacher's wrath for being late. The day's main – and only – conversational subject throughout the school had been Friday's activities and the damage that apparently had been done to the house. True to student nature, this only branded the night "Epic", though the parents coming home Sunday afternoon apparently hadn't been of the same opinion. To say they were less than thrilled was an understatement.

"Alfred!"

After Gilbert had left him, Alfred had returned to his friends outside, dancing and drinking the night away. The suffocating hangover he woke up to Sunday afternoon had even allowed him to forget his conversation with Gill for a while, the memory only coming back when he was going to bed. Monday morning he had resolutely locked the whole matter in a thought-tight cage, thrown the key and busied himself with discussing the Friday night when he got to school, enthusiastically comparing hangover pains with other students. The grapevine had soon informed him the house had belonged to a sophomore, though the student's supposed identity kept changing.

Alfred was in the middle of a spirited conversation about the extent of the damages when he heard his name through the noise of students on break. Motioning for his friends to continue on, he turned around in the packed hallway. Teens with maths books, English literature, history, religion, physiology, and a series of other books most students weren't sure what actually were for, crowding on from all sides, but none who could have been calli-

Wait, rewind. There.

"Alfred!"

From between two giggling girls, a white haired head popped out. The two girls squealed with surprise, Gilbert flashing them a grinning "Entschuldigung", before tackling Alfred's neck.

"He said yes."

Alfred quirked an eyebrow and began walking again, Gilbert in tow and still bodily attached. "Who? To what?"

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "Arthur. The school president. Remember? It's only been two days," he shook his head, snickering at Alfred's expense. He couldn't decide if his face was losing or gaining colour, feeling hot and cold at the same time - not so much because he had actually forgotten for a second (hah! As if he could have, despite his heroic efforts this morning), but the thought of actually going through with it… Alfred suddenly felt silly. He was thinking far too hard on this. Gilbert had been drunk when he came up with the idea, surely he wasn't actually serious. …Right? Anytime now Gilbert would cackle like he always did and say it was all a joke an-

"I was up in the principal's office for a reprimand and Arthur was there, so I asked."

Alfred was unpleasantly ripped from his train of thought, wide eyed with abrupt horror. "With the principal in the room?"

Gilbert laughed. "Yeah, and he said he wouldn't mind joining in too, wouldn't that be awesome?" Alfred firmly believed his and Gilbert's definition of awesome was widely different. Normally he would have brushed the joke off with a fitting gesture, but at the moment he was too busy stressing out. "But nah," Gilbert continued unperturbed, "I asked him in the hallway afterwards." He patted Alfred's back as the blond let out a small breath.

"Here's his number," Gilbert produced a yellow post-it note he pushed into Alfred's hand, Alfred realising with increasing dread the albino was actually frickin' serious. "He said to give a call whenever you got time. But I gotta run, promised Antonio to help him with some stuff before second period starts, so see ya later. And good luck." With a last pat Gill took off, flipping a girl's skirt in the process, his laughter resounding through the hallway and blending with the noise of students as the girl screamed profanities after him.

Alfred looked down at the note. At some point during their little talk he had stopped walking again, not noticing when, students pressing past him without offering him a second glance. The numbers had clearly been jotted down in a hurry and were a tad difficult to interpret. Gilbert's writing, no doubt. A split second Alfred imagined himself calling the wrong number and how hilariously embarrassing that would be. Then his mood fell again as he stared at the writing. To give him a call whenever he had the time, was it? Alfred rubbed his forehead sporadically, giving a single breathed chuckle with nearly desperate humour, clutching the piece of paper. This situation was so absurd.

AN:

So I have begun editing and cleaning up this story. It seriously needed it… xD

On that note, I feel the need to add this (please read to the end, it's important):

I do not support sexual activity before people are 16 and legal. I think the world's focus on sex and how it is affecting our younger generation is disturbing. If you're a virgin at 16 or 18 or 22, I personally think that's a good thing. It's not all it's cracked up to be, fiction is fiction for a reason, and you should not pursue it just because you feel like you have to or that you are missing out. Wait until you are ready, and if you don't feel ready until you're 25 or 30, then that's perfectly okay. It's your body and the people who brag have usually made up half their stories. Wait until you feel ready and have a person you trust. Believe me, giving your virginity to some random dude because you think you need to because of some stupid social thing sucks. Just trust me on that one. So be safe, have fun, don't let people push you into anything you don't want, and use protection! :) Okay, rant over.

(Aaaand if you need someone to talk to, you can always message me. Seriously. :) 24/7 I'm here )