"And so X would equal…thirteen?"

"Perfect! Ok, let's try this question," I say, pointing to a random equation in chapter ten of his Algebra II textbook as we ate our lunch together in the cafeteria. Sweet Amoris had a system where you could take one extra math class a year ahead, so I was in Pre-Calculus class instead. Even though he did well in most of his classes, he had trouble with technology and catching up in math. I was more than willing to help him.

It took him a minute to respond as he went through the equation in his head and worked it out on paper. I had insisted this while having him use a calculator to double check his work as well, "….Seven?" Dimitry finally answered. I nodded, smiling, and gave him a kiss on the cheek as a reward for getting it right. He had grasped it all so quickly.

My wounds had all healed and life couldn't be any more wonderful. Dimitry and I spent plenty of time together without worry; my parents accepted him once they discovered he's the main reason that I'm still alive after the incident with me falling in the mountains at the abandoned village of Bridgestone, my friends like him and approve even though they don't see me as often, and Dimitry's managed to fit right in with the other guys here at school. Best of all, I had the guy of my dreams with me now and always.

Could anything possibly be better?

…

Could anything possibly be worse?

Lysander felt himself twinge for unknown reasons as he watched Silya pop a French fry into Dimitry's mouth with her graceful fingers, then again as Dimitry licked the tips of them teasingly before she could draw it back, laughing and smiling happily. He sat on the opposing side of the cafeteria, poking a fork around in a plate of salad.

He had managed to let her go not once, but twice now. Yes; he was more than glad that Silya had found someone who cared for her and truly loved her- Lysander even thought Dimitry was a cool guy, almost like a second brother, ever since they'd forgiven and in Dimitry's case literally forgotten, but a part of Lysander wished it was him who was over there.

At least she's not with Dakota, he reminded himself, huffing at the memory of the past summer. Dakota, or Dake as she had called him, was an Australian boy with long, golden hair and green eyes that had been her surfing instructor during their break. He hadn't let her know, but he had known Dakota already from when he had come to the school to visit his uncle, Boris, a man who helped the school's sports and fitness programs. Dakota had a bad habit to be a bit judgmental and often criticized people by looks, and he and Lysander had never been in good company. He also was a flirt to many girls; a player.

He had been on the beach at the same time as Silya. For the longest while, he had thought Silya and Rosalya had been acting strange, but later Rosalya had told him they had been trying to catch a glimpse of his tattoo, which had been hidden behind his tan shirt, after Silya had apparently thrown that idea when she and Dakota began hanging out. He hadn't thought Silya to be interested in him and like a fool hadn't said a word to her outside of school.

Fortunately, Silya had been too naïve and innocent to fall for Dakota's passes her way. Every flirtatious word had been seen as a friendly compliment. To Silya, every hand he placed on her during their lessons was just a way to help her learn. Still, even knowing this, the more time Lysander watched them spend together, the more he began to drift away from Silya altogether, hating her for being with someone like that. He knew it was wrong to feel that way though, but he couldn't help it.

When they had first met, he had seen her as just another pretty face. And then one day, he just saw her, really, truly saw her for the beauty she was inside. She wasn't like those girls who just let things pass them by, who backed away in fear of being judged; someone who cared about what was right and what was wrong. It had been around the time when Amber had stolen some papers from the teacher's lounge and had framed Nathaniel for the act. No one had been willing to help, but Silya wouldn't relent, even when it got her in trouble to for trying to find clues one day. It was one of the traits Lysander admired about her.

When the mystery finally had been solved and Amber had been suspended, he had been the one to stop Amber from attempting to hit Silya right in front of everyone in the hall, grabbing her wrist and sending her off. But that was all he had done, leaving right after Silya had thanked him and he had warned her to stay out of trouble.

They spoke as friends and nothing more. It was he who couldn't take a hint one day when the exams had neared and Silya had been desperately looking for someone to study with. As she had asked him, and like a dunce he had replied he was planning on studying alone, he felt the impact of a wad of paper hit him in the back of the head, courtesy of Rosalya. Silya didn't notice the gesture and he had agreed shyly as it dawned on him.

That day, they had spent their time in a spot in the park he enjoyed when he wanted to get away from buzzing, urban life. She had met him there in a gorgeous outfit consisting of a pure white prestigious shirt, jacket, and skirt, looking as innocent and pure as a budding flower and with the beauty of an angel. It had stunned him in further shyness as they sat together by a fountain, overlooking the lake right across from them.

The sound of something crunching snapped Lysander out of his reminiscing and he turned around just in time to see Castiel swipe another crouton from his plate and crunch it between his teeth, leaving his own plate of half-eaten food untouched. "What's wrong with you? Man up," Castiel said, snickering.

"What do you mean?" Lysander asked, putting his lettuce covered fork in his mouth.

"Oh, come on," he replied, practically rolling his eyes, "You're the one staring at Silya. It doesn't take a genius to know you have a crush on her, although I'm pretty sure if there was a contest for being vague, she'd win the Noble Prize."

"What makes you think I'm interested in her?" Lysander questioned. He didn't like how this conversation was going. He wasn't much of one to talk about this sort of thing.

"It's simple," he stole another crouton, grinding it in between his teeth as he spoke, "She's got the body of a swimsuit model, is insanely talented, is nice to nearly everyone unless they mess with her," he snorted, "then she'll rain down fire, and she's fiercely independent." Castiel pointed his own fork in Lysander's direction, "And because she's way out of your league, you're intimidated by her."

Lysander shook his head, smirking, "So why don't you ask her out then?"

Now it was Castiel's turn to smirk, "Please; she may very well be an awesome girl, but in case you haven't noticed, no one knows how to take her, including me. Besides, I don't think she's my type. And she's just…weird. Not in a bad way, but it's like you just can't get in her head," he looked back over to Silya and Dimitry, who by now were tossing grapes in the air for one another to catch, "Then again, it looks like someone's found a way. Go figure."

Lysander raised an eyebrow, "So, what do you think I should do?"

Castiel shrugged and dove into his bag of chips, "How should I know? You're the one who lost your chance and I don't think Silya's one to cheat. Guess you'll have to wait until they break up."

All of a sudden, Peggy rushed over to their table, "Guys, can you keep a secret?"

"Can you?" asked Castiel.

Peggy frowned and scowled at him in turn. "As I was saying," she continued, calming herself down, "The Drama Department is going to hold auditions soon for The Phantom of the Opera since we've been studying it in English and all. Sign-ups sheets are being printed as we speak, but I had to tell someone. You guys might wanna consider trying out."

"Pfft, no thanks. I don't sing,"

Peggy shook her head and replied, "Whatever, but if I had your record, I'd consider it." She walked off.

One minute later, suspicion rose up inside Castiel, "Hey! How would you know about my record?" he yelled, getting up from his seat, but she had already left.

As Castiel retook his seat, muttering, the gears inside Lysander's head turned. Finally, he smiled, "I never thought I'd be so glad to see Peggy in my life."

"Oh crap! Don't tell me you're falling for that psycho now!" Castiel said, as if embarrassed to even know his friend.

His words had no effect with Lysander's idea still in mind, "Leigh and I can work on costumes for the play. Surely Silya will audition for Christine; this is an opportunity she wouldn't pass up for the world. Plus it might help with Leigh's designer career if the costumes are well enough."

Castiel's smirk returned, "And you have the perfect chance to do some surveillance and have some quality time with her. And if you're helping with costumes during the show…" Castiel laughed, "A stroke of genius, dude! I wouldn't have thought you had it in you."

Lysander had no thoughts about what Castiel had in mind. He stood up and went to go find Peggy to see when the sign-up sheets would be posted.

…

It's Friday afternoon.

Dimitry had one arm around me, holding me close as we watch the snow fall, leaving the school behind for two blissful days. Black wouldn't be coming with us because he said he didn't want to be out in the cold for very long, so he's making himself cozy at Dimitry's apartment. To think Christmas is coming up so soon. And speaking of Christmas, I still needed to find him the perfect gift, along for ones for my friends too… What do you give a rich, former vampire from the mid-1800's for Christmas anyway?

There was that, and I also needed to find a job to pay for all of the gifts in the first place. I have money saved from a few jobs and gigs here and there over the course of the year, but I want to be certain I have enough. Surely someone will be looking for an extra hand around the holidays. I could always check the mall…

I feel Dimitry's hand rub up and down my arm to give it some warmth. I look up to him, my cheeks and nose flushed a rosy-red from the cold, and smile before planting a gentle kiss on his lips. He graces me with one before we pull away. My hair is mashed down by a knitted periwinkle hat and I'm wearing a matching shawl over a navy blue winter jacket with a black belt. I'm still wearing my blue jeans, so I'm not getting much heat to my legs, but my feet are warm inside my fuzzy, brown boots that cut off just below the knees.

It odd seeing the long, black coat buttoned up over his usual attire, along with the green and gray striped scarf around his neck, hiding the classy style I'm used to seeing him in. But he's still as charming as ever.

We're just about to leave the school grounds when something catches my eye; it's a black sheet of paper, with white and red bold letters, taped to the brick wall that surrounds the courtyard and garden. Dimitry sees what I'm looking at and we walk to it. It reads as follows:

ATTENTION STUDENTS

Anyone wishing to participate in the Drama Department's winter play, The Phantom of the Opera, must report after school on Friday, November 9th to audition for a role. If you do not wish to audition and only wish to help out with props, set design, costumes, etc. or just wish to be an extra, report to the school at two pm on the 10th. The casting list will also be posted outside of the main office on the 10th. Sign below if you wish to participate on either day, and best of luck!

I look down the list to see who had already signed-up and for what:

Li_ _Carlotta_

Capucine__Carlotta_

_Iris_Set Design/Props_

_Armin_Phantom_

Lysander_Costumes_

Lysander? That's funny; I didn't think he was interested in theatre…

_Alexy_Effects/ André_

_Violette_ Dancer, Set Design_

_Amber__Christine_

Amber! Ugh! No wonder no one else is auditioning for the lead female role; she'd probably try to make their lives miserable if they did. Well, I'm not giving her the satisfaction of stopping me. I don't hesitate to get a pencil out of my backpack and sign myself up for the role. I'm not just doing this for myself anymore, but to also make sure that this is one thing the princess of Sweet Amoris won't get.

Dimitry looks at me uncertainly. He knows about how Amber and I despise each other with a passion. He also knows what it means for someone when they stand up to her as I have so many times before.

…

Dimitry put a hand on Silya's shoulder, gripping it comfortingly before caressingly moving his hand to the back of her neck followed by moving up and down her spine in a massage. He grinned as she made a quiet noise of soothing contentment. Wrapping his arms around her from behind, he whispered in her ear, "I know you'll get the part. You're the most wonderful actress and singer I've ever seen. I'm just worried of her hurting you."

Silya smiled as she closed her eyes, placing her hands on top of his, "I'm not worried," she tilted her head back so she could whisper in his ear, "I have you."

He chuckled before saying, "Always…." Dimitry leaned forward and gave her a long, lingering kiss. Her lips were surprisingly, pleasantly warm; a deep contrast with their surroundings. He enjoyed it for as long as he could before she pulled away, her eyes opening with a look in them that meant she was having another one of her insane ideas. He chortled, "What are you thinking now?"

"Why don't you audition too, Dimitry? You'd make a great Raoul."

This caught him off guard. He didn't believe he saw himself as an actor, but he had sung with her multiple times since they'd been studying The Phantom of the Opera, just for the sake of having something fun to do that they both could enjoy. However, singing for her and singing in front of a large crowd were two different things entirely. "I don't believe I could. I'd certainly make a fool of myself."

"You'd be wonderful," she turned and placed one hand on his cheek, "You've sang to me before. Come on, please? We'll be right beside one another during auditions and rehearsals."

Dimitry smiled and returned the gesture, "How about, once you get the part, I come to every rehearsal and show, and sit in the very front row so you know I'm there like a good boyfriend."

"What's the fun of that? Come on, you'll love it."

"Perhaps, Silya. Now let's go to this diner you keep telling me so much about; I'm freezing."

She nodded and the two began walking to her truck. Dimitry was taking classes, but he still had yet to get his license. There wasn't exactly a point of getting one when you were born in the 19th Century and you stayed in the same place for your entire vampiric life. About halfway from the brick wall to the truck, Dimitry impatiently scooped her up in his arms and ran with her as they both laughed. They tossed their packs into the back seats as Silya started up the heater and engine.

In about twenty minutes- singing to a Scarlett Letter CD the entire way, they reached the diner.

…

We walk in only to inhale the fragrant scent of recently ground spices, fresh bread, and fruity pastries. A few hints of pine and cedar are also in the air due to the scented candles that are placed on the tables and counters. There is a fire going in a nook that has been built right in the very center of the floor, circumferenced by fake tree stump stools. A pair of poinsettias greet us on both sides of the door. Meanwhile, fixated around the lights and on the walls, covering the majority of the tall ceiling, hangs a canopy of artificial branches and leaves, meant to give the illusion of being out in the forest. Unfortunately, the illusion is broken once a person takes a seat at one of the many booths, which have large windows that reach from waist to two meters, so one still gets a clear view of the bustling city streets and packed sidewalks.

I stand for a minute, just to absorb it all, before Dimitry gestures to take my jacket, shawl, and hat for me and put them on a nearby coatrack. This place is run by a family who had moved here from the country, made to look as homey, warm, and welcoming as can be. They will often go all out during the change of season, decorating this place accordingly. For spring, fresh flowers are placed everywhere and free cookies are handed out to the little kids. In the summer, they had out bowls of marshmallows for customers to roast over the fire. In autumn, they give free apples to customers and students and teachers from nearby schools get discounts on select items. Around this time of year though, they string up Christmas lights all around, and bake gingerbread to their hearts' content. Festive music can be heard blaring from the kitchen. The diner has become a big success in the few years it's been here and it's certainly a hot spot among teens.

"Hello, Silya!" greets Lucille- a woman in her late-thirties with shining blonde hair, happy bright green eyes, and a friendly smile- once she's spotted me. I'm a regular here, so they've bothered to learn my name. Then again, if it's just Lucille we're talking about, than she pretty much knows everyone in the entire city. Lucille walks up to us after giving someone their sandwich, "Glad to see you've dropped by. Who's your friend?"

"Lucille, this is Dimitry. He's my boyfriend. He just moved in town about a week or so ago."

Lucille's face brightens even more- if that's even possible- and she gives him a confident, firm handshake. "Well, it's nice to meet you Dimitry. Stop by anytime you'd like. And since you're new, I'll get you some fruitcake for dessert, on the house," she then turns to me and gives me her renowned playful, but slightly rougher than necessary, punch in the arm. I've prepared for it though, so I'm fine on impact, "Oh boy, how'd you get this pick of litter, Silya? Not bad looking and has the decency not to step away from me cautiously." I blush, but don't have time to answer as she gently shoves us both toward a booth and continues, "Now, you two love birds hang tight. Someone will be with you in a moment."

Once she's out of earshot, Dimitry looks at me, chuckling, and says, "A rather…outgoing woman isn't she?"

"Yeah, that's Lucille for you. She means well though."

"I take it you've come here often then?"

I nod, "Uh-huh. It's kind of comforting. I used to live in a small town too, so this is almost like being at home again, where I grew up."

"What was it like?"

"Fresh air, starry, quiet nights," I grin, "oh, and instead of cars we had tumbleweeds."

He smiles, "It sounds relaxing."

Just then, two little girls, each about eight years old, burst in the diner and make a beeline for me, hopping in my side of the booth and smothering me in hugs, telling me all about their day. These two are Lucille's daughters; Amanda and Haley. I've babysitted them before whenever Lucille and her husband, Jeff, have to work here longer than expected. I don't fail to notice Dimitry watching us with an amused look on his face.

I try to fend the two girls off and answer their questions accordingly, but then only more replace the old ones as they take in Dimitry sitting across from me.

"Who's that?"

"Is he you're boyfriend?"

"Where's he from?"

"Why is his hair so long?"

"Are you two going to get married and have babies and live in a condo?"

Thankfully, Lucille comes to my rescue, calling the girls to come to the kitchen and build a gingerbread house. Their retreat to the back is immediate and they wave us goodbye excitedly. Dimitry- the jerk- is just sitting there, trying to catch his breath after a laughing fit.

"Ha-ha, very funny," I say flatly. "You could have helped anytime you know."

Once he can speak again, he smiles, "I didn't want to interrupt that comical performance," he claps his hands together and stands, "Brava! Brava!" I roll my eyes, smile, and pull on his shirt to get him to sit back down. He obeys and chuckles some more, and soon I find myself giggling along. "They really do seem to love you, though. How did you get so good with children?"

I shrug and give him a grin, "I don't know; a woman's instinct?"

"Well, it's a very acute one at that."

A waitress comes and takes our order. We get two streaming mugs of hot chocolate with a couple of peppermint sticks on the side, and, as Lucille promised, two slices of fruitcake. The cocoa is delicious, heating me from the inside out. When I dip the peppermint into the drink, it has a refreshing as well as sweet taste to it. People may make fun of fruitcake, thinking of it to be the rock solid, poor tasting bricks we see in cartoons, but it actually has a really good flavor and is pretty soft. It's just the chewy, sticky bits of mixed fruit that take a little more time to swallow, but that's because it's the best part.

We wind up talking for thirty minutes, then work on homework for another half-hour, before I bring up the conversation again of Dimitry auditioning for the role of Raoul. I keep insisting, but he keeps coming up with excuses. Finally, I think I get him at a breaking point.

"Come on, at least try," I say pleadingly after we had paid for the food and left a tip.

"…All right, but I'm only going to be there for moral support and to help you if you need to sing a duet alright?" He answers as we stand by the door and he slips my jacket on me, continuing to drape the shawl over my shoulders, and then uses it as a means to pull me closer to him.

"Thank you!" I state, kissing him on the tip of his nose as I pop my hat on and he dons on his winter garbs.

He holds open the door for me, "You're welcome, miss Christine Daae."