Heyo! It's an update! Huzzah! And my head is spinning! Not huzzah! But I brought upon you this chapter. Thank you for those who reviewed: Hikou no Kokoro, CallMeLove, Pearl of the Orient Seas, Unknown person, and DeathBerry. Sorry to be horrible with returning your reviews. I assure you, I will try next time. And so, without further ado . . .!

Disclaimer: Been there done that.

~X~

2. That Girl, Indecision

Day: June 10th

Weather: Wonderful. Perfect. Can I have more of this?

Today I wound up in a really, really small town. Population: maybe fifty? It's a huge farming area, with crops and cows and horses and chickens everywhere. I even saw a real, living turkey today—the first time I ever saw a living, real turkey in my life. I didn't think turkeys got so huge. It almost broke my bike in several pieces, if it wasn't for me swerving out of the way at the last second and crashing into the asphalt. Only my knee ended up skinned, yippee. One more tear in my jeans.

The speed-limit here is around sixty-five miles and hour. Less people there are, less likely of an accident. I don't think I've seen a car drive through here, like, at all. There are no businesses, no gas stations, nothing—just farmland. It's amazing, especially at the top of the largest hill here, to see all the greens and gold. I can't do it justice by describing it with low-life adjectives. I guess this is what it means to be in awe, then. Maybe sublime is a better term? Either way, with no overly-large buildings, or anything super-obstructing, it looks like this place hasn't been touched by any human hands. It's as if I'm the only one who ever came this way.

Except for the locals, of course. They were surprised to see me as I was to see them. An old man sat on his porch, knitting while rocking in his chair, and nearly had a heart attack upon seeing me. Unlike everyone else in the town, he didn't own a farm. He decided to live here after he retired, apparently. Anyways, he shouted at me, told me to "get on over here!" When I got on over there, he slapped me on the back and laughed.

"I haven't seen anyone else around here 'cept those damn farmers for ages! I was goin' crazy over here, 'specially since my wife left me to diabetes. Come in, son, have a drink."

I have a rule: I don't drink. Drinking means getting a hangover (that is, if you remain dehydrated and don't drink water while chugging three or four beers). And getting a hangover impairs my ability to bike. So I asked for water instead, and he said, "Water? Ah, son, try some of this, just one sip ain't gonna hurt ya."

So, upon tasting alcohol for the first time in a long time, I leave you this word of wisdom: really old wine is the most delicious thing you can ever do with grapes. I must've helped myself to a drink too many, because he made me stop after a while. Then he gave me water. I still have a slight headache from yesterday, but I'm fine now. The old man makes knitted scarves and hats. He also sews and embroiders, which completely goes against the stereotype that only girls do that. Kind of elating, really. He sewed me a new pair of jeans and this really nice, green shirt I'm wearing, and it was free, though I did have to help him clean his gutters and yadda yadda.

"What're you doing in the middle of nowhere, son?"

I told him I was traveling, which isn't a lie. He only nodded knowingly.

"At your age, I wanted to see the world, too. But that was at a time without technology. Back then, you didn't get distracted with this newfangled thing called the 'Internet.' I traveled to Mexico once, back in the seventies, and I tell you what, it was one of the best things I ever did. I saw people who worked hard for nothin', but still seemed happy with what they had. It taught me that less it more." He took a swig of wine before grinning at me. "And then you come along, and it brings me back to that philosophy. Kids these days, they are so involved with themselves that they don't see the bigger picture.

"Promise me something, son—never stop seeing the world with that eye of yours, because once you get distracted by falsehoods, there ain't no comin' back."

~X~

Allen owned a house by himself, that much Lenalee knew. Just how large that house was baffled her when she approached the iron gates. She stood on the side where a little speaker was and waited. A camera moved and twitched before its lens landed on her. Then the speaker said with a crackly snarl, "Miss Lenalee, I presume? Master Walker is awaiting you inside. Please, come in."

Master Walker? The iron gates opened, leaving a trail of a decorated cement walkway. Flowers spurted up from the ground, waving colorful hues of red and orange as she walked by. A maid awaited her arrival at the front doors. She smiled graciously as Lenalee approached, then bowed as the girl hesitated to go inside. "He is in the kitchen, Miss Lee," she said. "Allow me to lead you the way. Many a visitor gets lost within these walls." With that, the maid shoved one of the double doors open and led her into the main room.

A Persian-decorated rug covered the floor. Lights hung high with little crystals dangling beside them, glittering colors onto the walls. Two spiraling staircases led up to a visible second floor, leading to two conjoining halls. Paintings hung near the side tables, depicting a middle-aged man in some, Allen and the same man in others, and something that looked to be a circus. A large poster proclaiming the spectacular show shined as the center piece, symmetrically aligned between the two spiral staircases. The maid waved her hand. "This way, Miss Lee," she said. "Best not to dawdle here long; too many distractions at once for newcomers."

Down the corridor and up a set of stairs, she found herself staying on what she could best define as a sky-way. Glass made up the walls as the hall hovered at least fifteen feet above the ground. It overlooked a large garden, attended to by many gardeners. Another house past the garden rested in the background, looking almost as large as the one she was in. The glass disappeared a moment later, replaced with the smell of chocolate and the distinct aroma of ginger. The maid bowed. "I leave you in my master's care," she said before disappearing down the glass hall.

"Ah, Lenalee!"

Her daze broke and refocused on the boy rushing over to her. He looked so ordinary compared to the rest of the house that it seemed like he never belonged there in the first place. Still, the sight of seeing familiar silver-hair and the blue-gray eyes that welcomed her warmly gave her a sense of ease within the mansion. She smiled at him, and he smiled back. "You're right on time!" he said. "I hope you didn't get lost."

"No, the bus driver seemed to know exactly where to go after I gave him the address." Which didn't surprise her, now that she thought about it; the house was probably the largest one in town. "Allen, your face is covered in chocolate."

"It is?" He rubbed at his lips before laughing. "Oh well. It's not like I intended to stay mostly clean while cooking. You think this is bad? You should see me when I eat—I'm like a pig."

"I have seen you. And yes," she said with a small laugh, "you do eat like a pig."

He feigned a hurt expression. "You wound me. The kitchen's over this way."

Many tables made up the dining area (the thought alone of having a separate area to eat and cook astonished her). Plates sat in an orderly fashion as napkins, folded in a pristine way, rested beside them. She looked around the room in awe. "Is this all for your party?" she asked a moment later.

He nodded. "Of course, of course. I had the servants arrange it so that it's more open around here—what do you think?" He waved his hand towards the room. "They are so kind to me, the servants. They used to be my foster father's attendants, and some even worked with him in the circus he owned. When he died, I inherited everything—the circus, his home, his fortune . . ." Allen sighed, a tint of sadness cloaked with a nervous laugh. "It's not worth it," he said after a pause. "I would rather have Mana alive than to be the owner of everything he, not I, worked for."

"Allen . . ."

He gave her a weary smile. "It's all right. I can't change what happened to him. Nobody could. Ah, here we are!" He opened the door to the kitchen. Servants mingled with one another, pouring sauces and adding vegetables to various dishes. "This here is the kitchen. I made it so that we get our own work space to ourselves."

"Whoa." She couldn't suppress her surprise any longer. All the servants, she realized, were making food for the party later that evening. "Just how many people did you invite, Allen?"

"A lot. But a quarter of this is for me. Sadly, I give my attendants such a hard time because of my incredibly fast metabolism." He approached an untouched oven, glistening after being recently polished. A few pans and several ingredients sat on the counter beside it, waiting to be mixed together to create the ultimate chocolate cake. He rolled up his sleeves. "We're making several layers. Since I have no idea how to do that, can you help me?"

She nodded. Why else did she come over early? "I've made layered cake before for my brother on his birthday. It's actually easier than you think it to be."

"Really? Great! Actually, if we have extra time, I wanted to show you around the mansion a little bit. It's really impressive. Did you know that my foster father built it?"

"He did?"

"Yeah! He started it about twenty years ago, after his circus show became incredibly popular . . ."

~X~

Ding!

Allen, hands coated in cake batter, excitedly went over to the oven. Lenalee retrieved some oven mitts from one of the servants. The last layer to a many-layered cake. She carefully pulled the top out, then, after plopping it on top of the massive cake, coated it with more chocolate frosting. Allen assisted her the best he could, smoothing the rough edges of the cake out. With a few more strokes of a knife, the layered cake, its frosting, and its appealing white-flower décor attracted the stomachs of even dust bunnies.

"Wow," Allen breathed as he gazed upon the cake. His eyes sparkled as he ran his tongue over his lips. "It's amazing. Can I have a piece now?"

Lenalee laughed. "No, of course not! You have to share it for the party, remember? Which reminds me," she said as she glanced at the clock, "the other guests will arrive soon. Shouldn't we go back to the, uh, main room and greet them properly?"

"Not to worry! There are numerous servants running about, preparing for their arrival." He outstretched his hand. "So, with some time left, do you want to look around?"

She couldn't tell if he was blushing, but color tinted his cheeks more than usual. His gloved hand shook a little at the invitation for her to take it. It was cute, the way he acted embarrassed around girls. Nodding, she gladly accepted his hand and smiled. "Sure," she said. The tint grew darker.

Numerous halls and bedrooms made up the majority of the mansion. Some rooms held old circus tents, others possessed fancy furniture that nobody had used in the longest of whiles. He told her of when the circus members used to sleep in the now-empty guest rooms. Mattresses sat still on their bed frames, and the sheets looked fresh, as if someone came into each room just to clean the unused space. Allen proceeded down another hall, not ceasing to look out the wide windows that surrounded them. She stopped for a moment, glancing outside. She saw the fronts gates, where vehicles began parking close-by. Soon, the house would be filled with old friends.

"And this room," Allen said, interrupting her thoughts, "is the master bedroom."

The door swung open almost too dramatically. Dark gray walls held up many circus, and perhaps magician, props—a whip, hoops, posters, tickets, clown costumes . . . She spotted a scythe in the corner, and a multicolored ball in another. A desk gathering cobwebs held books, one of which was open in the middle. A red bookmark kept his spot. The bed itself appealed to her, with numerous comforters to snuggle with. Once, when she was little, she would pretend that the blankets were an entirely different person who held her close.

By then, she outgrew those childish antics. Mostly.

Allen plopped himself onto the bed. "Aah," he said with a content sigh, spreading himself out onto the mattress, "I'm ready for a nap right about now. Cooking makes me tired." He looked through his bangs at Lenalee and sat up again. "Do you not like it?"

"No, no!" She gave a reassuring smile. "It's just, it's really different. It has character."

"That's what I thought." He rose to his feet and pushed his gloved hand against the window. "My, lots of people are arriving. I suppose we should go let ourselves be known that we are indeed here. I hope that idiot Kanda plays sick or something so I do not have to deal with him." Sighing, he ruffled his own hair in an attempt to straighten the unruly locks, then proceeded to go towards the door. Lenalee watched as his hand hesitated to grab the doorknob.

"Allen?"

The hand fell back to his side as he turned towards her. His eyes stared intently at the ground as his lower lip quivered. "Ah, Lenalee," he started, looking up, though his courage escaped him and left him looking back at the suddenly-interesting, small cracks in the wooden floor. A swell of red formed in his cheeks, the kind she expected to see after he either embarrassed himself in class (in front of Kanda, especially) or engaging in exercise. His gloved hand itched his cheek as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Um. Since we're alone . . . There was something, ah, that I, uh, wanted t-to ask you."

Adrenaline started to surge through her veins. His eyes shined the nervousness they held as they desperately sought to look upon her. She knew his intent. After four years of going to school, it almost dumbfounded her she didn't realize sooner. That she didn't even notice the possibility of him having the slightest attraction to her. His gaze flicked back and forth between her and the floor, though he stared at her face longer than he did the floor now. "Lenalee," he said in a little squeak, making him cough and recompose himself. "Lenalee, I was, ah, wondering . . . Did you ever happen to . . . I-I mean, do you think that, even though we're going to different colleges, that, uh . . ."

"Master Walker?"

He yelped. Lenalee almost gasped as a maid appeared from behind the door and bowed her head. "My apologies for the intrusion, sir," she said, "but the plethora of guests await your presence in the main hall below."

Allen gave the maid a weak smile. "Thank you. Inform them I shall arrive shortly."

She curtsied once before disappearing behind the bedroom door, which gave a soft "click" after her. He clutched at his own chest, inhaling sharply. "She almost gave me a bloody heart attack!" he breathed, letting his English accent slip. He grinned sheepishly at Lenalee. "We shouldn't keep the others waiting any longer. They'll wonder if I set them up. Or something."

"Yeah," she said lamely. She wondered if she looked as flustered as he did, with the sanguine cheeks and the nervous eyes casting glances everywhere except on her friend.

"Then, shall we?" He offered his hand, smiling. She hesitated for a moment before taking it, allowing him to lead her away from the master bedroom and down the numerous halls. Twilight cast shadows of trees through the windows and against the walls. The sky, speckled with pink and purple, pushed the sun further down as it tried to pull the waxing moon up. Stars glittered and twinkled. Allen paused as Lenalee stopped walking, watching the stars gleam.

. . . The air here smells wonderful. Crickets are chirping, and the stars, they seem so far away. It's as if some famous painter wound up here and set up the largest canvas in the world, then splashed hues of blue, violet, and red to make some kind of sky. I think I spotted a firefly, too. Red sky at night, sailor's delight. I hope the same holds true for a hobo.

"Lenalee?"

She blinked away from the window and smiled at him. "Yes, sorry. Just thinking."

The noise downstairs grew louder as they approached the main hall. Shouts arose when they spotted Allen, who smiled at them with cheer. He released her hand, giving her a small smile, before disappearing into the crowd. Her hand fell back at her side, still warm from his touch. People laughed and chided away about the big celebration tomorrow, the pinnacle of their high school career. It truly was a party.

She wondered if Lavi ever went to a party.

"Che. The damned bean sprout said you'd be here, and here you are. Good to know this thing wasn't a complete waste of my time."

"Oh!" She turned and smiled. Standing with the constant frown he always wore, her friend, Kanda, handed her a glass. "Kanda, I didn't think you'd show up!"

"It's lemonade." He glanced around the crowd. "I didn't think I would either, but it was either this or deal with my foster parent's blathering about how proud he is of me. I can just fucking melt in with the rest of the crowd here—at home, I can't. Che." His eyes narrowed upon seeing the snow-white hair he detested. "Not only is that bean sprout fucking short, he has to be goddamn rich, too. I really want to pound in that damn smile of his."

She sighed. "Does your attitude of him ever change?"

"I don't like him. Never have, never will." He folded his arms across his chest, almost sneering. "He has that damn vibe I don't like, like he's hiding something, that son of a bitch. I just know he's hiding something from all of us. He's just too damn good. Maybe he's a drug dealer." He snorted before nodding to Lenalee. "I'm going to find his stash and reveal how much of a prick he truly is. Enjoy this dumb-ass party."

With a whip of his ponytail, Kanda disappeared in the crowd, leaving behind the one glass of lemonade he handed to her. She took a sip before glancing shyly over to Allen. He laughed with some of his friends, a few she recognized (the others, not so much). His head turned slightly, almost in slow-motion, in her direction. His eyes opened just enough to catch her glancing at him, and their stares held still for a moment before he looked away. Heart pounding, she took another frantic sip of her lemonade and made her way towards one of the windows.

She didn't know how she felt. She didn't know what to feel. The thought of knowing her best friend having some form of crush on her bothered, if not disturbed, her. It wasn't that she didn't like him (she thought of him as cute since she first met him), but that she didn't know what to do with it. College loomed in the background, smothering any idea of having any form of relationship at the moment. It dictated her mindset—scholarships, classes to take, pre-classes to pass, calling colleges and telling them to let go of her spot because she got accepted into her dream school . . . There wasn't enough room in her life. She already gave that time away.

The crowd started moving away from the main room and towards the glass sky way, which led to the dining hall. She lingered behind for a moment, feeling pressured to follow, feeling overwhelmed to do so. Allen approached her with a smile. "Lenalee!" he said. "Let's go. A lot of food is waiting for us, you know." He reached out and took her by the hand, leading her away from the window she stood by. Her grip on the lemonade tightened.

Why did she feel afraid?

The dining hall teemed with people, swarming the tables and helping themselves to large amounts of food. Allen joined them, bringing Lenalee along with him. She recognized Chaoji, a boy who shared the same anatomy class as her, and another, but his name escaped her. Allen walked to them, smiling widely. "Good evening!"

"Hey," Chaoji nodded. His buddy did the same. "Guess what? I got accepted into the state university today, even though my grades kind of sucked."

"Anyone can get in there," Allen joked. Chaoji didn't look enthralled. "I mean, it's a good school, and since we all went to a private academy, they accept us because of our tough curriculum. I myself got accepted into Brown University."

"No kiddin'," Chaoji's friend said. "I tried ta get in their, but they go sayin', 'Thanks, but no thanks' to me. I'm stickin' to my plan with the military, since I ain't as filthy rich as you." His breath reeked of alcohol, as Lenalee noticed, and his cheeks were oddly flushed. "It's the way of the future, ya know, what with the economy goin' ta hell."

Allen looked over to Lenalee, who remained silently observing. "What about you?" he asked. "Did you get accepted? What are you studying, anyways? Did you decide yet?"

"I got accepted into a lot of places," she admitted. "I had to reject a lot because brother was so paranoid that I wouldn't get in if I didn't try hard. So I called nine places a week ago and declined their invitation. I guess you could say I'm, uh, going to go to Harvard." She felt the jealous vibes coming from Chaoji and his friend. "What I'm studying, well . . ."

A neurologist?

A anesthesiologist?

A bacteriologist?

A . . . ?

Her mouth fell open, no words coming out. The silence startled her, and her mind went into a panic. The question answered so easily before suddenly became the most difficult problem in her life. Allen stared at her, confused look on his face. Chaoji tilted his head, looking a little worried. His friend took another swig of alcohol as she felt sweat bead up on her brow. She was going to college to be a . . . A what? When did her life suddenly need to be so decided upon? One path, one choice, fixed for the rest of her life. It may break off once or twice, but in the end, it was the same—a doctor of some sort.

"What, Lenalee?" Allen gently prodded. His eyes reflected some form of nervousness. "Are you feeling all right? You look a little pale around the edges."

"I'm fine," she said. "Uh, a, uh, I want to become a . . . a . . ." Her teeth clattered together in the sudden chill that gripped her. Her words stuttered over her lips as she looked frantically to Allen, then to Chaoji, then to Allen again, only to feel the world she built up around her collapse.

A . . .

A what?

What the hell are you, Lenalee Lee?

~X~

Ending chapter fairly quickly ended quickly and fairly quick. Hah! So, did you like it? Hate it? Love it? Destroy it? Hit me with a review, por favor! In other news, I am starting NaNoWriMo. It's intense—let's see if I can make it through these thirty days! See you in three! ~Mr. Ree