Like Envy, I really think piercings are sexy. It was kinda inevitable that this is a major part of the story. Especially after PFF started teasing me incessantly. Just like Ling does to Envy. And what Ed contemplates doing to him. With that said, Ed is such a bastard (as usual), and writing match-up questions is an awful pain. I hope you enjoyed, though! Be nice and give us lots of lovely reviews!
To be totally honest, I really adore PFF's writing style. She comes up with ideas straight out of a chick flick and makes them work, which coming from someone who hates chick flicks, is a huge complement. Plus, she's very in touch with normal teenage things, like fashion. I suppose now would be a good time to reveal that I don't, in all honesty, know what a Dolce & Gabbana outfit would look like. I've never been inside a Banana Republic and I've never read or watched Gossip Girls. I don't even watch the horror movies Envy likes. So working with someone like PFF has been great. She comes at things from angles I would never think of, and makes great characterizations. Lacking the actual copy of this chapter, I can't highlight any specific instances. But this whole thing is great.
Stupid Cupid (quit hitting on me)
-chapter two-
Let's get a few things straight. I, Edward L. Elric, do not like Valentines Day. In fact, the whole month of February is kind of objectionable. Or at least the first fourteen days are. After that the hype dies down and things start going back to normal.
It's not that I'm some sort of Valentine purist either. The fact that Hallmark has taken over the holiday, along with the floral and chocolate industries, does not bother me. And unlike Winry, the fact that I'm always, always, single on Valentines Day is not an issue. The fact that couples act more couple-like isn't it either. I hate, loathe, and despise obscene displays of public affection, regardless of the date.
No, if anything it's that people expect me to be excited about Valentines Day. Like it's some sort of special day, like at any moment we'll all hold hands and dance some impossibly choreographed dance routine.
I don't like musicals either.
I'm not gay, so I've never felt left out or saddened that I could never express my 'love' for someone openly. I've had girlfriends before, so it's not like I fail at relationships. I just have really awful timing.
Take freshman year. I was dating Rose. She was a total babe that year, a completely different chick than the braces-and-glasses girl of 8th grade. She'd gotten contacts and her braces off. That and the skin tight jeans look really suited her. Along with the skin tight shirts. T and A, is all I can say. I mean, seriously. Before she'd hidden under baggy clothes and a giant ski jacket, but hot damn. She revealed it all the first day of school.
I still remember that outfit. I suppose a lot of boys, and probably even some girls, remember that outfit. It put Daisy Duke to shame. Rose Akimoto was sexy. And, she liked me. I liked her. I really did. We hit it off great. We had most of our classes together, including PE. It went wonderfully, until Valentines Day happened.
I still don't know what I did wrong. I'd only meant to send her a stupid Valentine Gram, nothing super fancy. Problem was Winry was in choir and so was Ling. Together they convinced me to go for the most expensive, premium singing gram. Wrong move apparently.
Or maybe I just didn't move fast enough. Last period was obviously not the best time for her to receive it. Especially because she broke up with me during lunch.
Yeah. Not fun.
We did manage to get back together after about a week of sniffling on her part and unabashed staring at her two best features (hint: they're not her eyes) on my part. However, the whole Valentines thing drove a wedge between us.
Sophomore year was a decent Valentines Day, as far as they go. Completely drama and Rose free. I should've suspected something. Fate was obviously saving something up for junior year.
'Course, when I was sitting in AP English waiting for the bell to ring I wasn't thinking about that. Sure, it was the second week of February, but the teacher was not one of the touchy feely types. Everything was normal. Winry wasn't trying to unsingle herself. Ling wasn't violating the entire dress code (just the part about peircings). Russell was actually awake. Rose and I were even starting to become friends again. Granted it was an extremely tentative and fragile friendship, but still, it was better than her giving me the evil eye.
So, it came as a complete surprise when the green haired weirdo finally passed out the pale pink forms to the rest of the class.
Valentine Match Ups. Can it possibly get any worse?
I spent the next month and half discovering that yes, it could get worse. Much worse.
"Hey Ed," a girl said softly, just walking in. She slid into the seat behind me. It was Sloth Angeloff, the reason why my quasi-friendship with Rose was so shaky.
"Hey," I said back, nodding to her. I smiled. Rose instantly ducked her head down, her hair obscuring her face. Fuck. This would be another reason Rose and I weren't on great terms. She still liked me.
Winry, as usual, has a different opinion. Something about how averting one's eyes is a rather common reaction to my salivation over Sloth.
I keep telling her that using big words does not count for extra credit.
She just keeps hitting me with that goddamn wrench.
"So, you're doing the match ups?" Sloth asked. Try as she might she just can't keep the eagerness out of her voice. Actually, it's a little surprising. I mean, she's never seriously flirted with me before. And as awesome as it would be to have the two hottest girls in school in love with me, it'd be entirely too much drama.
Plus, I like being a bachelor. Winry can complain all she likes about how she doesn't have a boyfriend or anyone special. She's a girl though and it's different. She doesn't have to deal with mind games or crazy drama or insane jealousies. She's lucky.
"Yeah," I said shrugging. "Wanna tell me your answers, see if we'll get matched up together?"
"Ah, no," Sloth said firmly. "That wouldn't be fair to the other people. Just be honest and we'll see what happens."
"Right," I said, giving her a wary look. Why were these stupid match ups such a big deal? It wasn't like it was going to tell you who you would end up with for the reset of your life. It was probably just some stupid logarithm that matched people based on the similarity of their answers. Like that would ever work.
Though, judging how most of the girls have shut up and are actually waiting for class to begin, this whole thing could have some merit. The AP English teacher, Professor Rix, finally stops puttering around in the corner and walks to the front of the room.
He is, quite possibly, the strangest teacher I've ever had (with the lone exception of when Izumi Curtis subbed for a day). First off, he's not really a professor. Or well, he's going to be a professor. He just needs to get tenured at the university. Still, he has us call him Professor Rix. Even other faculty has started addressing him as that. Though, the decrepit old coot (he happens to be the department chair or something) still calls him Kurtz-y Boy.
Aside from that, Professor Rix is well over six-feet tall, does not believe in rules or political correctness, and keeps a contraband slingshot in his pocket at all times. Winry likes to point out that Professor Rix bears a certain resemblance to Norman Bates (from the movie Psycho). This may, in fact, be true. However, I've never seen the movie.
"Alright," Rix says, grinning broadly. "You all know I'm not normally one for these Valentines Day crap. Too much feelings and all that jazz; however." Rix sighed and his tones became that of a defeated man. "Student Government stipulated that every class had to fill them out, else the principal would be forced to get involved."
Professor Rix surveyed the room, making eye contact with everyone he knew to be in Student Government. I resisted the urge to sink low in my seat.
Not that the whole principal intervention was my idea. Oh no, no I was just in Student Government and therefore knew things. Things I could've told Rix, but decided not to. After all, it's illegal for him to lay a finger on me. Not so with Winry.
She's actually the one responsible for this. I'm sure. She says that it wasn't just her and that a lot of other girls didn't want teachers to screw up the match-ups. Riiight. There is no way Winry would've done a thing if the match ups had been distributed in any other class. Nope. No when her super-secret love interest (who's name she refused to tell me) is in AP English with her. Winry sees nothing wrong with "evening the odds," as she puts it.
"If I find out… Never mind," Professor Rix said and ripped a sheet of pale pink paper from his desk. "Anyway, I have to read this stupid script to you, courtesy of Stupid Government. Anyone with complaints can address them to Elric, Tringham, and Yao, who hold some shady sort of position in that shadowy body. Of course, you're probably supposed to talk to our very own class representatives: Angeloff and Whoever-I-Want-Out-Of-My-Class-When-The-Stupid-Senate-Is-Meeting.
"But I digress," Rix said and glared at me. I held my hands up. I was innocent. I always made sure to have no part, whatsoever, in anything Student Government did around Valentines Day.
"Hello students," Rix said, with a large, false, and extremely terrifying smile on his face. "Today we will be filling out Match Up Grams, courtesy of . This questionnaire uses a very complicated and complex—and no doubt very copyrighted." Rix slipped back into his normal voice. He plastered his fake grin on before beginning again. "Logarithm to decipher which of your classmates you would be most compatible with. Therefore, it is in your best interest to answer each question carefully and honestly. Do not read into the questions. You will have 120 minutes to write three—wait, no that's the AP test, my bad.
"You have an unlimited amount of time—except you don't. I have—had plans for today and I will be very displeased if this stupid thing interferes with them. Just answer the stupid questions and turn them over once you're done. Read or do something quietly until everyone is finished, any questions?" Rix asked. Russell raised his hand.
"Yes, Tringham?" Rix said, resting his head on his hand. He looked at Russell through his fingers.
"Can we kill each other?" Russell said brightly. I rolled my eyes. Rix slumped further down, his hand on his forehead. He looked like he wanted nothing more than to pop a few Advils and call in sick. Russell just smiled. He tends to have that effect on people.
"Can you do it quietly?" he asked, not looking up. Russell nodded excitedly.
"Have anyone in mind?"
Russell pointed to me. I glared at him. Was this necessary?
"As long as you do it quietly and clean up the mess when you're done," Professor Rix said. "I don't see how there's a problem. Now just fill out your stupid match things so we can actually do something instead of wasting an entire hour of my life."
I stared at the pink sheet of paper.
Was I male or female?
Male.
Last time I check I was male.
I was a junior.
My name was Edward L. Elric.
No, my parents were not divorced.
Yes, I lived with both of them.
I looked up and sighed. This test was beginning to sound like The Common Application. I was being matched up with some girl, not applying to Harvard. This was getting ridiculous.
"Elric, this isn't a test. There's no grade, quit trying to steal Angeloff's answers!" Rix barked out. The green haired freak glared me. I glared back. I don't want his answers. I think I would die if I got matched up with him, Ametris Academy's resident weirdo and suspected fag.
Of course, he's not really gay—I think. I mean, he's never outed himself. That I know of. Not that I would know—or care, if he did.
Winry keeps telling me that if I really want to get with Sloth, I should stop referring to him as 'the green haired freak' and maybe use his name. Given how close Sloth and he are, Winry may have a point.
And Russell won't stop giving me shit for referring to him as a 'fag.' It's just a habit. It doesn't even have to be offensive. I could just be calling Envy a cigarette. I am stopping though. Russell's taken to punching me every time I say the stupid word. Even Al's jumped on the bandwagon. Something to do with his best friend, Fletcher, being gay and getting a lot of shit for coming out.
So, I'm basically a horrible person.
My mom's Catholic.
According to Freud, it's really her fault.
But no, seriously, I don't have a problem with gays. Russell, with his constant flirting, has seen to that. Russell does not discriminate. I think his motto may be "sex is sex."
Sloth poked me in the back.
"Still on the first page?" she asked. I shrugged and quickly finished the first page.
The first real dating question readings:
Your ideal date is:
A. Going to a movie
B. A big party
C. Just hanging out
D. Go to the game
E. I don't date
C. Definitely C.
But girls don't really go for C. They tend to gravitate towards A or worse, dinner and a movie, or worst yet, a really nice dinner. Those types of evenings always go wrong. The restaurant loses your reservations. The waiter's a douche bag and flirts with your girl. It's raining. The movie sucks. Your little brother is at the same movie with his gay friend and your date is homophobic.
Just stuff like that.
Better to stay home and hope the family (my or hers) doesn't ruin it.
On second thought…
I look at the next question.
My favorite fake designer is:
A. Louis Vuitton
B. Fendi
C. Gucci
D. Dolce & Gabbana
E. Only a girl would ask
Sadly, it's not E. (I thank Al for this one). The fact that I actually know any of these all very real designers (fake? Wtf?), well that's entirely Winry's fault. Normally I would not have any clue who was who in the fashion world. But as she tends to call Russell or I when ever the latest jackass leaves her… Well, let's just say that I tend to be more available than Russell, and as such, know certain things. Like, it's a good idea to have Ben & Jerry's coupons in your wallet, even if they're expired. And more than any straight, single guy should know about Gossip Girl.
I answer D.
I like plaid.
It's very sexy.
So very, very sexy.
That Blaire girl wears it well.
On a date you mostly:
A. Offer to pay
B. Always pay
C. Never offer
D. Never pay
E. No money!
I pay. I always pay. Unless, the girl really wants to pay and is willing to fight for it. Seriously, my mom's Catholic, remember. Even though she married the most atheistic man on the face of God's Green Earth, she still drags that man to church, every single Sunday.
God, I hate Latin.
And priests.
And those creepy alter boys.
You prefer late nights at:
A. All night bowling
B. Denny's
C. Starbucks
D. Wal-mart
E. Your room
My room. I like my alone time. Though, I suppose if I had to spend my night with a bunch of people, it would be bowling. The question is, do I want to sound like a cloistered hermit or people person. I'm neither really. Pity we don't get to rank these questions.
I'll go with E. I'd rather end up with someone who understands the concept of alone time than an all-day-and-night party owl.
My favorite seat in my house:
A. Couch
B. Bed
C. Recliner
D. Floor
E. Kitchen Counter
Floor? Wtf?
I'm going for couch. Though I'd imagine Sloth would be pretty sexy looking up on a counter top, so maybe… but what if this question tells you something about the personality?
I erased my answer.
B. was just so much sexier than A.
Yet so much lazier.
Couch is lazy, bed is sexy, recliner is beyond lazy, floor is freakish, and kitchen counter is… the kitchen counter is where Al sits. And he is so weird. Thank God Mom decided to put him in that super advanced musical school.
Me, I like my chair.
But that's not a choice.
B it is then.
Which actress do you like best:
A. Queen Latifa
B. Kiera Knightley
C. Angelina Jolie
D. Lindsay Lohan
E. Julia Roberts
When did Lindsay Lohan become an actress? I thought she was a bad singer. Definitely not her though. She's a complete talent sink.
Can't say I like A or B much. Knightley is too, bony. And tries too much. Plus, she just about killed Pride & Prejudice. The BBC version is much better. Shut up. It's not my fault that my childhood was spent in my mom's bedroom while she ironed. Apparently Al and I were not trusted out of her sight and she decided that the BBC's take on Jane Austin was good for hypnotizing us or actually liked it.
I bubbled in C.
Hey, I saw the Changeling. Plus she does action films, what more can a guy ask for? A Harvard law degree? She does triathlons shortly after pregnancies. She has talent, a wide range of abilities, and knives.
What would you change at your school:
A. Mascot
B. School Colors
C. Start Time
D. School Name
E. Cell phone block
It's not on here, but I'd definitely change the Academy's policy on peircings. Sure, Ling breaks it every day, but he's special. His parents didn't care about the letters home and teachers eventually stopped complaining. The fact that his mom came in and screamed at the principal in Chinese may have something to do with this.
But my mom doesn't scream, Chinese or English.
Still, I'd like to be able to get something a bit more … ah, visible. Like a small lip ring, off to the side of my lower lip. Or maybe just a stud on my upper lip, somewhere in the middle of the line between my nose and the edge of my mouth. Only, I'd want to lick it, so possibly a quarter inch lower.
As you can see, I've thought at this quite a bit. I'm not new to peircings either. I have two. But you can't see them, especially with the stupid uniform we have to wear. Well, you could still see one. But you'd have to know where to look and what you were looking for. Most people don't.
I think I'll answer E. After all, it's almost the same as lifting the piercing ban.
Oh, and there's an exception for earrings. Tasteful earrings, as in nothing large, dangly, or distracting. Most teachers have agreed upon the rule of thumb. As in, if it's bigger than a thumb, you have to take it out.
What type of dog would you be?
A. Pit Bull
B. Cocker Spaniel
C. Poodle
D. German Shepherd
E. Beagle
D. Because the German Shepherd is an awesome dog. Loyal, large, and smart. Okay, so maybe that's the dog I wanted. I bit my lip. Sadly, I was probably most like a beagle. But hell if I would ever put that down.
Maybe Sloth likes beagles.
No. Not going there. The answer is D.
A major bonus in a date is:
A. They have a car
B. They have money
C. They have a twin
D. They have a pool
E. They go home early
Huh?
What's up with E? Why would you want a date to end early? So you could go out with the girlfriend that doesn't have to be home early?
Whatever.
I'm not one for twins.
Money's not really an issue.
I have a pool.
But not a car.
I shop Abercrombie and Fitch for jeans.
I study too much.
Wait, no. I chill at home. With textbooks. And Winry. Sometimes Russell. Often Al. Fletcher's there a lot. Ling will make an appearance or two.
I like camping.
I don't do rap. My favorite music is indie rock.
My mom shops at places far more expensive than Hot Topic, Macys, or Wal-mart, and she's the one who buys my clothes. Most of the time. Winry generally helps out it. I swear, it's her dream to dress me up like a Dolce & Gabbana model.
Me, well, I just hope that her break-ups never coincide with a Dolce & Gabbana sale. It's the only way to prevent a tragedy like that of Narcissus from happening to me. Seriously, plaid gets me every time.
I like dogs.
I'm a one-on-one type of guy.
There are no great first dates.
Personality is the big thing. But there has to be some sort of chemistry. Otherwise it'd be boring. And lame.
I don't sing unless Winry's standing over me with a wrench in hand.
I don't like football.
I hate the mall.
Fire.
Cardinal.
Snow shoveling.
Skiing.
I own at soccer.
I hate breakfast.
Sleep.
And as much as I hate to admit it, I love to be taken care of when I get sick.
Perfect. First three pages were done!
Now for the next, I flipped through the pages, five.
Fuck.
The next section was labeled In A Girlfriend/boyfriend. I grimaced. It's bound to be filled with really stupid questions. As if that wasn't what the whole test has been filled with. If it wasn't for the fact that I touch nothing related to Valentines Day in Student Government, I could've stopped this. Then again, I think Winry suggested it, so maybe not.
What's the best trait a girlfriend/boyfriend can have:
A. Personality
B. Looks
C. Intelligence
D. Gets along with your friends
Why is there no E. All of the above? I don't want to date some hag, but if she's a hot bitch that's almost as bad. And what if she's stupid? I hate stupid people. I could never be with a dumb girl. Ever.
But if she hated my friends. God. That would suck. Especially if she and Winry fought. Oh man, that could be awful. Really awful. And if she hates Al or makes fun of Fletcher. Or is conservative. Russell would… I don't even want to think about that.
I guess looks wouldn't matter too much. I mean, if I was super into them, it wouldn't matter. I suppose she wouldn't have to be a genius either. It'd be nice, but not strictly necessary. Personality—well, if she got along with my friends, she'd have to have some personality.
The image of Lyra popped into my head. She was my ticket to the Prom sophomore year. We'd gone on a few dates before and after that. But it ended rather quickly. Sure she was smart, beautiful, and had a great personality. Only problem was she just hated Winry and Russell and Ling and Rose and Sloth. She was also against gays, Jews, liberals, rainforests, whales, and abortion.
Yeah, and my mom kind of hated her too.
Even Al didn't like Lyra.
We broke up rather quickly.
Definitely D.
Your girl/guy wants to see this movie, it's a chick flick/action movie. It's also the last opportunity to see the latest action movie/chick flick. You:
A. suffer through the chick flick/action movie
B. complain, but go with her/him
C. take her/him to the action movie/chick flick, you'll go to the chick flick/action movie later
D. ditch her/him and see the action flick/chick flick, she/he has that posse of girls/guys for a reason
E. break up with her/him.
What idiot is going to pick E? I wondered. The male version of Lyra? I shuddered. I don't ever want to meet that.
I'm such a sop, but A.
She'd hate the action movie and then I'd owe her.
The posse of girls is there so that when the relationship ends, I get TPed by not one, but five girls who will never date me again.
Complaining is just stupid if you're going. I mean, might as well make her feel a little bit guilty.
Your boyfriend/girlfriend has an awful day. You:
A. Treat them to a romantic dinner out
B. Show up with a movie or a carton of ice cream
C. Give them space
D. Tell them about how much yours sucked
E. Remind them that children in certain third world countries are suffering more.
E? Seriously what the fuck? Is that like the douche bag choice? That's like asking for a break up or a slap in the face.
Space is risky. Very risky.
D is self-centered. I'm not that much of a bastard.
And judging from how ice cream and a movie helps with Winry, I'd have to go with C. What can I say? I'm a fast learner. I have to be, I survive around Winry.
Would you prefer your girlfriend/boyfriend to be:
A. Liberal
B. Conservative
C. Moderate
D. Don't care
After that shit with Lyra, I'm going for Moderate.
I glanced at the clock. Only twenty minutes had passed. Russell flipped his packet over and smirked at me. I glared at him. If he wanted to pass his college calculus class he'd pull out his book. Russell grinned and started doodling something on a scrap of paper.
I looked away. I'd find out what it was next period, in AP History.
I stared straight ahead and twirled my pencil. It wasn't my fault Envy Angeloff, queerest of the queer, was right in front of me. He wasn't looking at me. No, he was doing his little quiz thing like it was actually important, College Board's version of Valentine fun. He really did look intent. Like he actually thought he'd end up with someone.
He'd look good in plaid.
What.
The.
FUCK!
Where had that thought come from?
I tried to clear my mind of that image, but Envy Angeloff wearing a plaid tie and not much else was lodged in my brain. Desperately, I tried to think of anything to clear my head. Anything.
Sloth poked me in the back again.
"Done yet?" she asked. I shook my head and turned back to the stupid quiz.
I am not gay. I wasn't gay then and I'm not gay now. I just didn't like the standard type of girl. The girls I was attracted to tended to be the less girly ones. I mean, they looked like girls and all, they just didn't act like girls. The weak, fluttery damsel in distress type didn't really appeal to me.
Sloth. Lyra. Winry. All of them are fierce, independent, and can hold their own. Granted, even they can have their girl moments. Winry can be pretty needy at times (after break ups or Valentines Day). Sloth has the subtle sort of presence that whispers seductress. Like Liz Taylor in Cat On A Hot Tin Roof, she's gorgeous and epic and sensual.
Lyra.
Lyra was probably the sexiest. She had a strong, sexy, in control vibe. Very confident. Quite horny. Didn't really want to talk and when we did it was generally me telling her off about something. And yet, I dated her for a month. Despite better judgment, the opinions of pretty much everyone, and my principles. She was the least girly out of all them though. I mention, she looked like a girl and all, but from the way she acted, well, it was pretty masculine.
Or at least cutthroat.
She played mind games though.
Pretty controlling too.
Manipulative as well.
So basically, I like the strong, vaguely feminine types, along with the butch girls, and the girls who look like guys. So, it's no wonder I'd have the stray thought about a guy, especially an androgynous guy. With long hair. Who I thought was a girl for a couple months or something like that.
But I'm not gay.
Sure, there's the occasional guy I feel "interested" in. But it's more of a curiosity thing. Like you meet a person, possibly of the same sex, and then you want to find out more about them 'cause they're interesting. Nothing sexual about it. Just like you'd want to know how they think or what they're like. That's why I'm friends with Ling. We met freshman year in the office. He was there for his lip ring and I was in for my necklace. He liked my necklace. I told him his piercing was cool. And we hit it off.
He kept messing with his ring through the entire conversation and I couldn't take my eyes off it. Not because I found it sexy or anything—because I didn't. No, I just thought it was fascinating and dangerous and oddly alluring. I started asking him questions about it and he made some crack about how at least I was honest and wouldn't lose track of the conversation whenever he did that thing with it.
Except I totally did.
He's one of the few people who know where my second piercing is. My dad, Ling, and a slue of dental assistants were the only ones who knew about it. Mom didn't even find out until way later.
But yeah, Ling and I are just friends.
Regardless of what happened at that club. It was the fastest way I could think of to get that harpy off of me. Well that and leaving. Or hiding in the men's room. But I'm not a coward. And nothing pisses Lyra off more than gay guys, especially when one of them is her ex.
The last page of the match up was questions about hobbies and stuff. Easy shit.
And finally, I was done.
Wow. Like that didn't take forever.
I turned my paper over and looked up.
Big mistake.
I guess he'd been staring at Ling, who was doing that ridiculously sexy—stupid maneuver with his ring. He knew what effect that had on Envy yet he persisted. So Envy's eyes (who the hell has eyes that dark blue, practically purple) were unfocused and his expression was pretty glazed. He looked like I do when I get high. And then I had Jack's Mannequin's song Dark Blue playing in my head. It was my favorite song and everything, so I guess I might have been grinning or smiling or looking not-unhappy.
Regardless, Envy must've felt me staring at him because he turned and just glared at me. I didn't even do anything that time. I swished my tongue around. Too bad he's never seen my peircings. He'd never be able to talk to me again, he'd be so painfully aware of them. As it is, he's barely able to get two words out to Ling before he just zones out. Just imagine what he'd be like if he was imagining two hidden peircings.
Inarticulate. Utterly incapable of thought or speech.
And if I did get that stud or ring, or even both.
Well, poor Envy might just pass out, what with all his blood rushing away from his head. It's a tempting image. Very tempting. But Mom would kill me or rip them out herself. Eww. That would hurt. And leave unsightly scars. I'll wait till college.
Envy flipped his paper over and continued glaring at me. I glared back. What was his problem? Okay, aside from the time I thought he was a girl and asked him out on the date, which resulted in gay rumors about the both of us. Envy never did recover from the rumors, they just kind of clung to them. Me, well, that's when I started dating Rose.
I feel kind of bad about that whole thing. I mean, yelling "FUCK! You're a GUY?!?" was not the best response. Sure, he'd just asked me if I were gay or something, but seriously, not my best move.
I think there was a moment where I seriously regretted saying that and was about to apologize when he punched me. I just stood there, looking kind of stunned. I didn't expect that to happen. Well, okay I did. Just in my head, the punching thing was more of a slapping and it happened right after I asked him out. Because I was hella nervous about asking Envy out. First time and all.
Still, he didn't have to run off like that.
The worst thing was, I really liked him—as a girl. It would've been cool to be friends with him, but after that Envy decided that he hated me and the whole thing was some huge prank. My late-night inarticulate phone calls didn't help. In fact, they all kind of turned into shouting matches and groundings.
"Elric, Angeloff, stop trying to off each other with looks," Rix said suddenly. "It's not going to work."
Envy flushed angrily. I shrugged and pulled out Angels and Demons and tried not to think about what a great girl Envy would make.
-end chapter two-