A/N - Another Simon/Jeanette oneshot? I'm on a roll here. This one takes place more in the future - when the Chipmunks and Chipettes are in 9th grade. And, as always, it's the cartoon universe, not the CGI one.

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love with a passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning, "How Do I Love Thee?"

All the lyrics that I wrote
Not as smart as the words you spoke
- Hellogoodbye, "Shimmy Shimmy Quarter Turn"

"Okay, class! Settle down and take your seats, please!" Ms. Needlemeyer's shrill voice overpowered the raucous noise of mischievous students the 9th grade literature classroom. They had taken advantage of the teacher's momentary absence - the paper airplanes, rubber bands, and spitballs scattered across the classroom floor were perfect evidence of that - and now they grumbled as they reluctantly shuffled to their assigned seats.

All, of course, except the two students seated in the front of the classroom, Simon Seville and Jeanette Miller. When Ms. Needlemeyer spoke, the two bespectacled chipmunks looked up from the books they were absorbed in and gave her their undivided attention. Unlike most of their peers, Simon and Jeanette enjoyed school. Their thirst for knowledge and curiosity about the world united them, making the pair best friends since they were eight years old.

Ms. Needlemeyer cleared her throat. "Now, as you all recall, yesterday we read a poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning entitled, 'How Do I Love Thee?'" She paused, as some students nodded their heads in recognition. "Now that we've examined the style of a romantic poem, I have an assignment for you."

All of the students, save for Simon and Jeanette, groaned in unison. Their teacher ignored them.

"Tonight for homework, you are going to write a romantic poem. And I don t want to see any 'roses are red, violets are blue' nonsense. No, I want you to reach deep inside your souls and discover the creative genius within," Ms. Needlemeyer's voice got lighter as she continued on, waving her arms gracefully in a melodramatic fashion. "I want to see elegance and beauty in your writing. Write something that makes me proud."

A hand shot up immediately. The teacher sighed, giving the student in question a withered glance. "What is it, Alvin?"

"Will we have to read it out loud in front of everybody?" Alvin asked, half-whining.

"No, Alvin. You will not have to read it out loud." She paused, then addressed the whole class. "In fact, I want you to forget that I ll even be looking at your poem. I want you to write it as if you were talking to the love of your life. I want it to be intimate and special. Don t be afraid to get personal, but be elegant at the same time."

Another hand was raised. This time, the teacher smiled brightly. "Yes, Simon?"

Simon adjusted his glasses. "Does it have to have a particular rhyme scheme, or be written in iambic pentameter like a Shakespearean sonnet?"

"Simon, it can be written however you want. Feel free to use an established format if you desire, or you can simply write in free verse. Just remember, write as if you were writing to your true love."

Just then, the school bell rang, and the students filed out of the classroom and into the hallway. As usual, the Chipmunks and Chipettes walked together to their lockers.

"Blech! I hate writing poems!" Alvin complained, as soon as they were a good hearing distance away from their teacher. "And it has to be romantic? Give me a break!"

"Ha!" Brittany laughed scornfully. "You're just annoyed because you know that you can't write that kind of poem, Alvin. You're not one bit romantic!"

"What do you mean, I'm not romantic?" Alvin argued. "For your information, Alvin Seville is the biggest heartthrob in the country! Maybe even the entire universe!"

Simon rolled his eyes. Oh brother! There they go again, He said to himself. Sidling past the bickering couple, he strode over to Jeanette, who was already at her locker putting her books away.

"So, what do you have in mind for the Literature assignment, Jeanette?" Simon asked cheerfully.

"Gee, Simon," She replied softly, glancing up hesitantly at his bright-blue eyes. "I don t really know right now. But I do know that I want it to be good."

"Well, don't worry. You're a literary whiz." Simon stated matter-of-factly, "I'm sure whatever you write will be excellent."

Jeanette blushed. "Thanks, Si." Even though he claimed that he was no good with words, Simon always had a way of giving her the best compliments, whether he realized it or not. "So, what are you thinking of writing?" She asked him, trying to deflect the attention off of herself.

"Hmm," Simon paused, stroking his chin and scrunching up his nose - the two things he always did whenever he was deep in thought, which was often - Jeanette noticed. "Poetry isn't exactly my forte'." He chuckled slightly, "I will probably end up writing a sonnet. Then at least I'll be able to have some sort of structure in my writing."

"I'm considering free verse," Jeanette admitted, "But I still don't know. I've never written romance before. I mean, it's a nice genre to read, and Elizabeth Barrett Browning's poem is one of my favorites, but I don't how to go about writing something like that."

Simon put his hand on her shoulder, and Jeanette froze, her heart skipping a beat. "You're smart. You'll figure it out." He said with a reassuring smile. "Well," he gestured down the hall, "I don't want to be late to chemistry class. I'll see you at lunch, Jeanette." He gave her a casual wave, and headed on his way.

Jeanette sighed as she watched him leave. Simon was possibly the most brilliant guy in the world, but he was still oblivious as to how she felt about him. Then again, she wasn't very vocal about these feelings. In fact, no one knew about her crush on Simon. It was one of those things that she just kept to herself.

It's not like she could help falling for him, could she? They were just so much alike, and yet they were quite different. He was very factual, very steady, very loyal - a resilient leader, strong-minded yet strong-willed. She was more reflective, more emotional, more disorganized, and certainly more shy. They complimented each other in so many ways. Simon understood her, and she understood him.

She wished she could tell him all this - tell him how he had become her emotional anchor in the sea of uncertainty; tell him how she loved gazing into his sky-blue eyes; tell him how she wished they could spend more time together, just the two of them - she wished that she could tell him all this and more. But she was just too nervous. What if it creeped him out? What if it destroyed their beautiful friendship? She wouldn't have that. She couldn't hurt him that way - she loved him too much.

Just then, the school bell rang, breaking her out of her reverie. Realizing suddenly that she was the only person in the hallway, Jeanette quickly scampered away to her next class.

-a-

It was a Wednesday, which meant that Brittany would be at cheerleading practice, while Eleanor would be where she usually was after school: soccer practice. And since Miss Miller had a haircut appointment scheduled for today, this would be one of those rare occasions where Jeanette would have the house all to herself.

After stopping off in the kitchen for a brief moment and grabbing an apple for a small snack, Jeanette went to the room that she shared with her two siblings. Thanks to their absences (especially Brittany's) the house was unusually quiet. Perfect. Now Jeanette could have absolute peace while she worked on her writing assignment.

She sat cross-legged on her bed, opened up her binder, and pulled out a clean sheet of looseleaf paper. Neatly, she put her name and date at the top, as she usually did with any type of homework. Now came the hard part - coming up with a poem.

Jeanette nibbled on the end of her pencil. Usually with creative writing assignments, the words would just magically come to her. She would just start writing the first thing that came to her mind - which usually led to another and another, until she had composed a beautiful piece of literature. But this was different. This was a romantic poem. She couldn't just whip something up out of thin air. This had to be thought through.

Sighing, she set her pencil down and took a bite of the apple. How on earth could she possibly write romance, when she knew absolutely nothing about it? She couldn't even admit her feelings to the boy she had a crush on. Sure, there were many things she would love to tell him, but she just couldn't -

Just then, Jeanette remembered what Ms. Needlemeyer had said earlier in class. "Write as if you were writing to your true love." Immediately, the image of a certain blue-clad, glasses-wearing chipmunk filled her mind. She blushed. Then, she had an idea.

She would pretend that this poem was for Simon. That was it! She could pour out her heart to him in this poem - she could say all those things that had been bottled up inside her for so long. Not only would it be therapeutic for her, but she would also get a good grade, because Ms. Needlemeyer would see that it came from her heart. And she wouldn't have to worry about Simon ever seeing it, either. Ms. Needlemeyer promised that she wouldn't read the poems out loud. It was perfect!

Suddenly filled with a gold-mine of ideas, Jeanette picked up her pencil and began writing her best poem ever.

-a-

A few days later, Jeanette had forgotten about the assignment, although she did feel much better now that she had put her feelings to paper. She no longer felt the need to blurt out the truth to him. The therapy had apparently worked. Her poem had helped her cope.

That day in Literature class, Ms. Needlemeyer announced that she had finished grading the poems. "There was one in particular that stood out above all the rest. It was beautiful, elegant, and utterly romantic. Now, I know I said that I would not have you read these in front of everyone, but this piece of literature is too good not to be shared."

Each of the students started looking around, trying to figure out which one of them could have written such a marvelous poem, and silently hoping that it wasn't himself. Jeanette quickly said a little prayer. Please, God. Don't make it be my poem.

"Jeanette Miller..."

She froze, her green eyes widening in fear. Oh no!

"...would you read your poem to the class?"

All heads turned toward Jeanette. She immediately wished that she could vanish into thin air. Her face became flushed, and her throat became dry. She tried to make herself talk, but as usual, she couldn't find the words. Instead, she found herself walking up to the front of the room, taking the paper from the teacher and holding it in her small, shaking hands.

She started reading the first two lines, very quickly and softly so that her audience couldn't hear them. Ms. Needlemeyer interrupted her.

"No, don't read it like that, Jeanette. Read it the way it's meant to be read. Slowly, gracefully. Read it the way you intended it to sound."

The small, timid chipmunk gulped. She really had to go through with this. There was no backing out. Now, Simon would know for sure the way she really felt about him.

She looked up from her paper, and stared at him. Figuring she was just nervous, Simon smiled reassuringly and gave her a thumbs up. Instead of feeling reassured, she felt like she was about to throw up.

Clearing her throat, and finding her voice, she took a deep breath and began:

Friends since forever.
It's been quite a while
That we've been on this journey.
We've learned, we've laughed, we've smiled.

As smart as you are
You could never comprehend
What happens inside my heart
Ever time I hear you speak.

Even with your glasses
You could never see
The feelings I've hidden away
Afraid that you would leave
Scared of what you'd say.

But I want to tell you now.

Your sky-blue eyes make me believe
That we can fly to a far-away place
Where we can be alone - just you and me
Singing in perfect harmony.

When the storm of life is raging
When the waves toss my little boat around
You're my anchor, steady and sure.
You tell me what I need to hear - help me make it home.

I don t want to go another day
Without you by my side.
You're the structure to my chaos
The fact to my fancy
The strength to my weakness.
You're the reason I keep going.

Or let me simply put it this way:
I love you.

When Jeanette finished reading, she stared down at the floor. She couldn't bear looking back up at Simon and seeing his reaction. Would he be horrified? Would he be angry? Would he have even known that it was intended for him?

There was a brief pause. Then, the entire classroom erupted into thunderous applause.

"Wonderful, Jeanette!" Ms. Needlemeyer praised her profusely. "Sensational! Absolutely brilliant!"

As soon as Jeanette made it back to her seat - carefully evading Simon's glance the whole time - the bell rang. She gathered up her books quickly and rushed out to her locker. She was too ashamed and embarrassed to face him now. What would he think?

Maybe he hadn't even noticed that it was about him. After all, the poem was vague enough, right? Jeanette tried to convince herself, though she knew it was in vain. She had included a complete description of his personality, his eye color, and even the fact that he wore glasses.

Swinging open her locker door, she hastily placed her Literature textbook and binder inside, and snatched up the books for her next class, when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

"Jeanette?"

There was no mistaking it. It was him.

She turned around slowly, studying his face, and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he had figured it out. His expression was serious, his eyebrows were furrowed, and there was something different in his eyes.

She shuffled her feet and stared at the ground. "Hi, Simon." She answered timidly.

"That was an excellent poem." He said, after a pause.

"Thank you." She replied, continuing to avoid his gaze.

Another awkward pause ensued before he spoke again - softly and hesitantly - a tone that she had never heard Simon use before.

"W-was that poem ... about a certain someone?" He asked.

"...Yes." She bit her lip anxiously.

"Me?"

For a brief second, she considered telling him that it wasn't - that she had just come up with it all on her own and invented a fictitious lover who just happened to have blue eyes and wear glasses. But she knew she couldn't lie to him.

"Yes." She admitted finally, turning away from him and facing her locker, unable to stand the pressure any longer. Closing the door, she started to walk away, but Simon gently took her hand.

"You really feel that way...about me?" Simon asked. His voice was gentle, almost tender. Jeanette shivered as she turned her head, her emerald eyes meeting his bright blue orbs.

"Yes."

Then, the unthinkable happened. Simon took a step towards her and, sweetly and delicately, kissed her on the lips.

Jeanette was startled at first. This was definitely not the way she imagined that Simon would react. But, slowly, she melted into the kiss, draping her arms around his waist.

Time seemed to stand still as they embraced each other. They didn't take notice of anyone else around them. Nobody else mattered. All that mattered was the fact that they were in each others arms.

When they finally broke the kiss and regained their senses, they realized that all of their siblings were standing right behind them.

"Uh, hey guys!" Simon greeted them with bright red cheeks and a nervous laugh. "How long have you been, uh, standing there?"

"Long enough." Alvin replied with a knowing smirk, his arms crossed over his chest cockily. "Honestly, did you really think that no one would notice you two smooching in the middle of the school hallway?

Jeanette simply stared the ground, a ridiculous grin plastered on her face.

"Congratulations, you guys!" Theodore gushed happily, "I knew you'd find each other!"

"Thanks, Theo." Simon said brightly.

Meanwhile, Ms. Needlemeyer stood in the doorway of her Literature classroom, surveying the whole scene with a contented smile. "I knew it too, Theodore," She murmured to herself, "I knew it too."

A/N -Thank you for reading. Reviews are greatly appreciated.