My mother and father died in a car accident when I was a baby. I would tell myself that I couldn't miss what I didn't have. That worked for a while. I had my Aunt Helen, who I could happily accuse of loving me too much. So even when there would be parent days at school, or if I would visiting my friend's nuclear home - I didn't feel like I was missing very much in my home life.
But then there was her.
I knew university would be a whole different ballpark, even if I never played a sport in my entire life and the metaphor was entirely wasted on the likes of me. I didn't feel so bad being a scholarship kid since, frankly, tuition these days is ludicrous. Everyone I knew applied for financial aid, even Quatre Raberba Winner, heir to the illustrious Winner fortune. Apparently, no matter how rich you are, having twenty-nine daughters and one son in change will break the bank.
But like I said, then I met her.
When I arrived, she was already in her third year and living in the all-girls honours dormitory on the other side of campus. Apparently, it wasn't enough to codify by gender, but put you in your academic place. The brochures advertise them as "fertile for discussion with one's peers"... in other words, "The really smart and beautiful ones go over here, while everyone else can find somewhere else to rest their heads." I suppose they devised the single-sex honours dorms to lessen distraction for the occupants. Frankly, I think it was damn inconsiderate for everybody else - I probably speak for every guy on campus that the distraction is there that cannot be ignored. Between the guys who say they've been in there, to what we think goes on in there, and what the girls insist never goes on happen - there's plenty of distraction.
Especially since she lived there.
Relena Darlian Peacecraft. Her mother divorced her Relena's father when Relena was in high school, and remarried just before she entered university. Between the alimony from the first husband, and the gym her stepfather donated to the school, she could've been made. I heard about her before I even met her - from Quatre. Apparently his father had been invited to her mother's second wedding - the Peacecrafts and the Winners were long time competitors in politics and business alike, but they kept up civil appearances. At least that's how Quatre describes it. He told me that from what he knew of her, she was a total brat. He told me that there were rumours about her and her older stepbrother, Zechs, who is an assistant professor in the History department. Quatre told me all of this because he caught me staring at her as she did laps around the track.
Yes, she's beautiful. Blonde hair, blue-eyed, into sports, honours... and of course Quatre as my friend, he was just looking out for me. But I knew him - I knew him well enough to know that he probably never met her. I knew his family well enough to know how his father talked about competition and allies alike. I didn't blame him for it; really, it was just something to keep in mind when he spoke about people he knew through his family. And I even kept his comments in mind when I finally did meet her.
She was in one of my first-year English classes - she was a year away from finishing her Communications program, and she had to catch up on some electives. Even though first-year classes are huge, she was pretty easy to spot. All you had to do was watch where all the guys' heads were turning.
Admittedly, coupled with the little that Quatre had told me... seeing all the guys pay that much attention put me off at first. Very briefly. Fresh out of high school, the little I knew about girls was when they drew that much attention, it was for one of two reasons: no one could have her, or everyone had. But, at the very least, high school taught me that life wasn't all black and white, and that lesson didn't change with the scenery.
I would discover that same day that she was also in my tutorial. The whole tutorial business really threw me off at first - in high school, class and lecture were rolled into a neat forty-five minute episode. Figuring out that they had to split it up for both the teachers and the students sake didn't really seem all that helpful... especially considering tutorials were run by graduate students who were probably taken the class for the first time just like you were. But there wasn't exactly anyone to complain to; especially when Relena Peacecraft sits down next to you once a week and you can look forward to it every week for fourteen weeks. There wasn't any assigned seating or anything, just most people sit in the same place for most of the semester, unless the previous class messes with the tables or something.
It didn't take long to figure out what kind of popular she was - the "no one could have" variety. It took all of two glances and a double-take. Between the scribbled hearts on her notebook, to the little sticker picture on her agenda, and the heartbreaking class ring hanging from a chain around her neck - it was too big to possible be hers. All the signs were there. If she noticed me looking, she never called me on it. Maybe she was just used to it by then.
Relena Darlian Peacecraft was engaged to be married to Heero Yuy, exported son of a Japanese car manufacturer; I was so informed by Quatre. They were into their third year, and the question got popped somewhere over the last Christmas break. The Yuys were another acquaintance of the Winners, and when he told me as much, I expected to hear an earful about Heero. But Quatre was even surprised himself that he didn't know much about him - just that he lived in the all-boys honours dormitory which stood behind ours. As far as investigating Mr. Yuy and his suitability for Relena, Quatre and I would have to resort to outside methods.
Being in a class with someone is not really getting to know them in any coffee house sense. You see them on a regular basis, but there really isn't a lot of time to talk about the meaning of life, or exchange zodiacs. Generally, it starts out with, "Hey, I'm . What else are you taking?" and the rest you mostly learn from paying attention. Half listening to conversations during the break, or when she answered questions in lecture or tutorial, or the way she creased her brow when she was rolling something over in her head. All the little things that you catch that make you want to get to know them - to find something in common, to find something to talk about. But then there's this nagging - I mean, after all, the classroom is a highly controlled environment, which prevents and protects people from getting too close. I probably wouldn't have had the courage to approach her outside of class if we hadn't been paired together for a presentation.
I remember hearing, "Peacecraft, Maxwell" and thinking, 'Did I say that out loud?' I was young and stupid - younger and stupider - and maybe had one or two dreams about marrying her. They usually came the night after hanging out at Quatre's house, where his sisters would proceed to force us into watch a Sandra Bullock movie. Of course I didn't ever really want to marry her, or even like the idea of jumping that way ahead of myself - I mean, really. Honestly, I didn't. But when I heard it, I couldn't help but think it. As if the girl didn't have enough names already.
I also remember blurting out dumbly, "Huh?" since I had been paying little if any attention. Like I said, distractions were everywhere. I was a deer caught in headlights as the entire class stopped and looked at me, reading my totally lost expression. But it was the first time I made her giggle, so it was worth it.