Sorry that this update took so long! I had an AP exam and a term paper to complete. And you know…Procrastination issues…

Chapter 3: Literature, Butterflies and Everything Theatre

Sora turned out to be a wiz kid in chemistry. To my sheer amazement, he and the professor-some middle aged bearded man-spent an extension of the class period discussing the likeness between the chemicals of light and dark power. There was that element again; Darkness. Apparently chemists weren't too fearful of that power. Nevertheless, I wasn't going to deliberately find a reason to mess with the element.

"You sure know a lot about all this science business," I muttered to Sora.

He grinned at me cheekily, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed behind his head the way he seemed to often do.

"Sort of, I guess. You could say I know my way around the maze."

Namine ever so lightly scoffed. "Sora-your dads a scientist."

He sighed, and brought his chair back down on all fours as he leaned over his desk. He was an antsy teen, that I was certain. "Oh Nami. Way to spoil my secrecy."

"She would have found out anyways," Namine flicked her sketching pencil out in his direction. "He owns the laboratory on the outskirts of town."

I raised an eyebrow at him and he shrugged. "Please, my dads accomplishments really aren't all that. My cousins dads a lot cooler."

"But they're in two totally different fields of work! You cant judge them by that alone."

"I know. But we cant forget, Nami: My uncle is like a dad to me anyhow. My own father stays locked away almost all hours of the day."

In the exchange, I had been taking in the two. Namine expertly sliced her pencil across her sketch pad, never breaking conversation while never sketching a single mistake on her pad. I was intrigued by the way Soras jaw would ever so slightly quiver at the mention of his father, his eyes darkening a shade. His smile was still lighthearted and cheerful. I never knew my father. Or perhaps the better thought was, I knew him a little too well.

I mentally shook myself of it. No good could come from remembering a man like Thomas De'Celine, and I didn't have the pills handy to be able to deal with the thoughts.

"If only you were an English lover too, Sora, or you'd be top of the class like your cousin is."

Namine seemed to have struck a chord with Sora, and he playfully crumpled over his desk. The Bearded Teacher snapped at him and he jerked up again, causing kids behind us to snicker. He continued to whisper to us, ignoring the teasing by-listeners.

"Namine! You really had to bring that up? I suck at English." He slumped into the palm of his hand with a belated sigh, and Namine playfully rolled her eyes at him.

"Maybe if you did what Riku had told you to and got yourself a tutor, you wouldn't have that problem," She gave him a smile as she finished up the shading of some type of lopsided star-fruit tree on her paper.

This intrigued me. Sora, some one of grand valor in the chemistry classroom, was absolutely helpless at the mercy of standard English.

"But you know how Riku and I get when we get together on things, Nami. Were competitive monsters when it comes to anything we work towards. I wouldn't have learned anything."

Maybe it was the fact that he looked do helpless, or that I was so desperate for a personal connection with someone other than my mom that I couldn't help myself. But the next words I spoke were, "Im great at English. I could tutor you."

Sora stared at me dumbfounded. "You would do that?"

I hesitated, but gave him a nod after a moment. "I would." The trade came quickly to me. "But in return, you have to help me with Chemistry."

"An ultimatum!" He gave me a bright grin. "You know what? I think that would be great."

Giving him a more gentle smile, I laughed. "Well, good."

At the end of class, Namine, Sora and I scooped up our packs and pencils and wandered into the hallway. Namine nodded calmly as Sora chattered excitedly about everything and anything. I was enjoying their company, and the fact that they were polar opposites from each other. It was nice to see interactions between the two. It wasn't like they were in love. More like they were brother and sister, and had grown up together. Especially when a flurry of soft red hair swiftly appeared and nearly slammed into Sora, cocooning herself into his frame. "Sora!"

She had violet eyes and a clear complexion, her hair a softly lit red flame. It wasn't an obnoxious color, like the color of the soccer jocks friends hair. It was softer, and it fell in a straight waterfall down to her shoulders. I wasn't sure if I would be fond of her or not, but first impressions were sometimes difficult. I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt.

"Its been a pretty good day so far. We already are discussing dissection in Biology, which is kind of awkward and really gross, but whatever. Kind of makes me not want to eat lunch. Especially since that one time when Jessie found a live treefrog hopping around in her salad one time last Spring. And speaking of frogs, do frog legs really taste like chicken? You've got to wonder how someone came up with that assumption, especially since frogs are frogs and chickens are chickens. Sometimes I consider being a vegetarian, but…"

It went on like this as we trekked through the hallways. I gathered that her name was Kairi, and she was close friends with Namine, Soras cousin (who still hadn't been named) and was actually Soras long term girl friend. She was on fire, a chatterbox. Someone who I could be totally quiet around, never have to say a word, and she would still be perfectly content within her own self. An amazing talent if anyone ever had one.

I still wasn't sure I liked her, but at least I wouldn't have to try.

"Earth to Alaska?"

I glanced at Namine, who was raising an eyebrow at me, again lightly. It seemed everything she did was light. Her laughs were bright and airy, her pencils slipped across pages as if they hadn't grazed them at all. It was an amazing and gentle thing about her. I definitely liked her.

"Sorry, I was thinking. Go on?"

"I was asking what you had next." She and the others eyed me expectantly. Blushing fiercely, I fished into my strap bag and pulled my schedule from it.

"Well," I scanned the orange slip of paper and shifted my footing uncomfortably. "…Drama."

Oh God.

In that one split second, I shuttered and felt as if my inner self was convulsing. Theater classes of any kind would mean individuality, speaking out, and acting. It was basically a fourth calling for making an absolute fool of myself in ways I would have never experienced before, and I was being forced into the ridiculous ritual of individualism by hand of chance. In that one millisecond, I came to the realization that I was going to socially die.

"Oh! My cousin has that class to. You'd like him, he's theatrical at heart."

That one millisecond hadn't been realized by any of my newfound friends as we walked the hallways. I would have to suffer this alone.

I joined in the inanimate chatter until Namine pointed me to the auditorium door and I parted ways with them. My heart swelled in that way a heart does when its brain tells it its nervous, and I laced my fingers together tightly as I slipped through the door into the huge, dimly lit room. The only place that produced light in the steep vastness was the gigantic stage, an intimidating mass of mahogany wood and curtains like teeth as they opened up to swallow stage-fright with its claustrophobic grin.

Keeping my head down, I rushed for a seat away from the other students who were piling into the room. If it hadn't been for how terrified I was, the lights and the stage and the people might just be serene. But they weren't serene; they were terrifying, and I was alone. I kept my head low, not bothering to meet eyes with anyone who might glance my way. I didn't even look up when the instructor sauntered into the room, immediately giving his flourish of an introduction and slamming us right into our first assignment. I prayed to melt into the seat I rested in, to somehow disappear from his sights so he wouldn't address my existence.

"This year, class, its about expression." The directors' voice was male, strong and sure of himself. The opposite of me. "Its going to be the struggle of finding yourself, and finding your passion. Now, I've already taken the liberty of assigning you all into groups, since we have such a nice sized class this year. We're going to jump right into this first project. You're all going to group up as assigned and pick out a few scenes from your choice of a play or musical. Your going to set up your scenes, rehearse them, and perform them over the course of the next two weeks. When you come to me with your selected scene, I will cast you as the characters in the scene so there isn't a ruckus over who does what. Your scenes are due at the end of the period."

He began to list last names he had grouped, and as time went by in the seconds I truly thought he had forgotten to include me.

"Axel F. Jefferson, Alaska M. De'Celine, and Roxas D. Allen."

I jerked up and caught sight of a flash of blond hair, spiked up. That's when the blue eyes and the familiar butterfly wing eyelashes clicked. Roxas, the soccer jock I hated from first period, was my new friend Soras' cousin. And he was in my group for my first theater project.

Well, hell.