It all started with a text message.
Back in the sixth grade, she had been the dork, the weird chick, the know-it-all. Always had her hair up in ponytails, the tall, thin girl that no one gave a second glance. Sure, Maka could pass as half-pretty, maybe. She had large, pretty eyes. Her hair was soft and she smiled cutely. But in the throng of teenagers that waxed and buffed, with tattoos and push-up bras, she was plain. Average.
He was the guy that was too-cool-for-you, the one with the sexy smile and the hair that went down a little over his eyes whenever he directed them at you, his orbs piercing through your very soul. Soul 'Eater' Evans was hands down, the most popular guy at school. The player, the talented pianist, the one that no other guy could really match up to, despite his arrogance and cocky demeanor. He had a freakin' six pack.
He was a year older than her- they'd only ever had one class together: Orchestra. And instruments had never been Maka's forte (no pun intended). Soul was the favorite of the teacher- it was so obvious- and Maka the underdog. The one no one paid attention to. She was a violinist, none too good, plain and average just like the rest of her. He was amazing- finishing pieces with flourishes, solos, and that charming, crooked grin.
In middle school, they had somehow become friends. The bookworm and the cool guy, top-dog and underdog, not inseparable but not the 'hey-how-are-you, fine-thanks-see-you-tomorrow' friends that talked in the halls. She somehow managed to get his phone number from her friend Tsubaki, whom she was green with envy over. Tsubaki, with her soft, feminine Asian face. Her tall, perfect physique. She had amazing talent at the violin, academics, at everything. She bested Maka at absolutely everything. But Maka loved her anyway.
They hadn't really texted- they lived in two different worlds. She and Soul. But they had been friends, sort of. It wasn't until high school that something had really happened.
A play that she, Maka, was in charge of suddenly jolted to a standstill and confusion half an hour before it was due to start when it was realized that the star musician, the pianist of the night for the performance was missing. Knowing that her grade, reputation (or, what she had of it anyways), and status with the teachers was in danger, she whipped out her phone and sent a text to Soul.
I need you here. Come to this address right now. This is serious.
He replied just half a minute later.
I'm on my way.
What had surprised Maka was the fact that he had answered so quickly- and without question, too! Stunned, she could only cross her fingers and hope that he would appear.
Five minutes before the show started (with most of it spent with hesitant reassurance there would be a suitable replacement), Soul appeared. In an instant, everything settled down. He sight read the music perfectly, the show was a raging success, and Maka was showered with compliments from the people who knew she was behind it all.
"Thanks," Maka said breathlessly after the show was done and the auditorium was once more empty, save the two of them and the ebony, shining piano that glistened under dim lights. "I don't know what I would have done without you."
"No problem. You owe me one though, tiny-tits." He flashed his trademark smile and began to saunter out the doors.
"W-what?" She stuttered, and made to go after him, but he was already so far, and she blinked, startled- when had he gotten so tall? "But how, what, I don't-"
"Meet me here at the front entrance tomorrow at noon," He laughed simply, and disappeared into his car.
Maka stood stunned in the biting cold, shivering in her jacket and amazed that he even had a car.
When she met him the next day, inexplicably dressed to flatter and embarrassed because of it, he had given her an are-you-serious? look, and drove them to their old middle school.
They had walked around, reminiscing, until things had delved into more personal matters. Their carefree chatter turned into them sharing their deepest secrets with each other, and someway or another, the bookworm found herself confessing to the popular guy, and he in turn revealed things. His mother had cancer, his father an asshole who had run away during her time conceiving, his brother's superiority and his own inferiority complex. His friends, his thoughts.
Maka was stunned. Maka was thrilled. Maka was scared. And merely five hours later (they had stayed for quite a while), she fell in love.
Insane! Impossible! But she did. Maka Albarn was a hopeless romantic, and while Soul wasn't exactly the best-looking guy, he had a charm to himself. And she was in love. What the hell.
They had texted more after that, but it was always more trivial matters. It was like their little trip back to middle school had never happened.
But she never forgot.
She didn't see him again for real until senior year, where she was class valedictorian (of course), stood up to make the speech, and saw his blinding white hair and piercing red eyes looking right at her from amidst the crowd. She almost forgot the entire speech, but hey, she wasn't valedictorian for nothing, so she delivered it with shaky breath and tears that were there for reasons unknown to herself.
She met him outside afterwards, with his hunched up grin and his husky, "Congratulations." They talked about college for a while. He would be attending a fancy, prissy and stuck-up university for music, and she in literature. They would be an entire country apart. But she pushed that thought aside and asked if, during the summer, he might like to meet back at their middle school and talk about old times and experiences. She said it so confidently and without worry or stress (and the other feelings that were flying around in her stomach at the moment that she should have been blushing and tripping over her words as well as her feet) that she shocked herself.
He grinned.
And then he kissed her.
Her first kiss, no less!
But Maka, with her temper and embarrassment, could not bring herself to react as she might have. With a smile, she looked up into those ruby eyes of his, licked her lips coyly, and walked to her car with a broad wave to his confused figure. She laughed again, and as she pulled out, he shouted,
"Don't forget to text me!"