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Four

"Puis-je avoir un verre d'eau?"

Adam stared at me. Then he pushed an unopened bottle of water towards me.

"Wait, you understood?" I raised an eyebrow, trying not to sound smug that a language I had never spoken was understood when I did.

"Can I have a glass of water," Adam translated. "Yes, of course I understood, dope."

I ignored the comment about dope and pushed the bottle away as I went to the fridge to get what I really wanted. A can of Coke. You know, the fluid normal people drink to maintain sanity.

It had taken a whole of ten minutes for me and my mother to realize that all three males in this house had an almost incurable habit of drinking straight from the carton.

And while I opened my can of Coke in a sophisticated, feminine (read: normal) way, Zane appeared at the stairs and dragged out a carton of juice. Then he slurped it directly from the packaging as it dribbled over his chin and shirt.

Um. I think I lost my thirst for Coke, watching my geeky young stepbrother's manly chin get sloshed with Tropicana.

Dragging my bag up—I had only just returned from school (and last period had been French lessons)—I walked up the stairs with the can, meaning to get down to my homework and then go out at night. I mean, hey, it's Friday night and the boy who asked me out dumped the idea. That doesn't mean I mope around at home, oh no. Not at all.

Yeah, okay. I sound like a broken record, I get it. Shut up.

My French was mostly confined to merci and tais-toi (shut up). This amazing word I learnt when I had been made to do a project with this French senior at my last school for the end of term History exhibition (oh and he was a hot 100 degree C, by the way). When I couldn't stop talking, he gave me a huge glare and went all, "Tais-toi, Lucy!"

Oh and of course, there was French kissing. Now that I knew quite a lot about, considering I never tried it myself. Though why the French should get all the credit for pushing your tongue in another's mouth really beats me.

Anyway, my French being this confined, I had had a terrible 45 minutes. Luckily, Gray was an expert in the language of love (big surprise) and he offered to help me out which I politely declined. I would like to spend my weekend having a bit of you know, fun, instead of a jock teaching me French and flirting with me (probably in the language itself).

There was this sense of happiness when I reached my room; that was how much I loved it. Plus, it was almost soundproof, to me at least, because I could get rid of Adam and Zane and enjoy a bit of luxury.

Oh and if you're curious about how I returned home on a crowded, hot bus and told my stepbrothers off, well I forgave them. After a bit of er, butt kicking—just a bit, stop worrying! Well, Zane mostly, since Adam was way too tall, but both of them went all; "Okay. Got it. Next time. Bye."

The sun killed as it slanted in through the crevice of the sliding glass doors to the balcony overlooking the river, and my good mood went down in the bin as I noticed my bed.

Sprawled on the pillow, was a bunch of pink and white roses, the mini bouquet kind you give people in hospitals. I put my can and bag down.

"The hell?" I muttered, picking them up. There was a card attached to it.

I know you're mad, it read. Let me make it up to you. Meet me downtown?

Sure baby, I'll meet you downtown. If I freaking know who you are!

Then I thought about it. Who would say sorry to me, when I wasn't mad at anyone? Except for…

…Natsu?

Seriously? Did this look like the 1850s to him? How could he send me a bouquet of flowers and a card just to apologize? Why couldn't he stalk someone down at school and get my number, or just tell me in school?

But it was Friday and I didn't have single class with Natsu except for French, which I presumed he ditched. And it was the same Friday that he had asked/dropped the idea of going out as a thank you. The first week had been impossible, but it was the second week that had been decided and this was the second Friday.

Don't ask me why, but I was just plain mad. Madder, even. I know; I bet loads of girls would be well damn pleased that a boy (Natsu, nonetheless) went to all the trouble of getting a bunch of flowers for them with a card and all even when they were not dying in the hospital.

Me, I found it infuriating. I have this weird thing; when someone I know—anyone—does something exceedingly, excruciatingly embarrassing, I end up feeling embarrassed, or somewhere along the lines.

It just leaves this weird feeling in me, and the fact that Natsu had sent me flowers to apologize in the 21st century just damn right pissed me off.

I ignored it all, pulled up my chair and sat at the hard glass desk to finish Trig. It took me about a half an hour, before I dredged up the schedule for the fest and went over it. Then I pushed my books back into the bag and leaned back, staring at the flowers I still hadn't touched apart from disentangling the card.

I was so not going to meet him.


I met him.

Yes, I know I told you I can be stubborn. That doesn't mean I am capable of sticking to all my decisions—I mean please, I'm still a teenager with raging hormones, as Allen likes to put it, so give me a break.

Oh and Natsu wasn't waiting by leaning against a shop or anything normal. No, he arrived stylishly in his red convertible just as the first tendrils of twilight touched the town. Me, I stood around like an idiot.

I was back in my usual form—Cut off, rugged denim shorts, light-blue tank-top, paired with my favorite combat boots up to my calf.

I left my hair open, because I liked it best that way. The only problem, I realized as I stepped out, was the merciless heat on the nape of my neck, making me want to chop all my fab hair off with a pair of gardening shears.

Natsu noticed me at about the same time as I did, and he parked neatly near a trashcan and then walked out. The streets and stone pavements paired with its colourful shops of Magnolia were unnaturally clean for Fiore, and even trash cans looked, well, non-trash-can.

He gave me another of his easy smiles, the kind that would have Yukino doubling over and falling straight into the non trash can.

"Hey, Lu—" he started, but I cut him off.

"Never," I said severely, pretending to be still mad. "Send me flowers and cards again, got that?"

He looked a bit hurt—his onyx eyes cast down at his crestfallen expression, but I was lucid. "But, did you not like them?" he asked.

Was this boy for real? "I have no opposition towards roses, Natsu," I assured him. "But next time, call me okay? This…this flower thing just makes me mad."

Poor boy. He was still trying to recover from the shock of me, I see. Oh well, it was his idea to meet up with the blonde lunatic, not mine.

"Well," he composed himself. He was wearing a loose, grey T-shirt paired with jeans and sneakers. He looked a bit hot—but just a bit, mind you. "Do you happen to get mad at coffee as well?"

I rolled my eyes, but the fight was over. "Sure," I agreed.

It was a comfortable silence as we walked to Barista. Though the awkwardness of the situation was almost tangible, I ignored.

It was awkward because, I repeat like the broken record I sound like, this is the Friday Natsu and I were supposed to go out in the first place (the Friday of second week). Then he changed plans, after he got over his sudden wave of gratitude when I saved him from playing the harp in heaven, and ditched me. Then he offered to give me a ride to make up, got busted by Yukino, and now to make up for not making up he was going out with me on Friday at any rate. Only this time of the day was the neutral evening friends-for-coffee-with-no-romance-involved type.

Yes, I know. Complicated worse than Pythagoras Theorem.

I sat outside with him, under an orange shade, overlooking the happy street. Natsu had a slight tan to his skin, and when he bent down to pick up the note he had dropped, I caught sight of his muscular chest as his T-shirt sagged, and blushed a bit in embarrassment at myself. I wondered vaguely why he was not like Gray, eager enough to show off his spectacular abs.

As we waited, I jumped straight to the point. I had no time for stuff like 'Nice weather, right?' or perhaps 'Nice shoes, er, boots, Lucy.'

"What did you want to apologize for, exactly?" I asked him, though I knew why. My fingers twirled the straw in my chocolate café frappe with extra whipped cream.

Natsu looked uncomfortable. "Well, I expect it was very rude of me to, you know…"

"Ditch me?" I helped. "When you asked me out, or when I needed a ride?"

He winced at my words. "Sorry," He muttered. His own mocha was untouched, and he had taken his smooth bottom lip between his startlingly white, even teeth in frustration. His dark pink locks still framed his lashes. "Both."

"Which reminds me," I carried on. "Wasn't the fact that you had plans for today the reason why you cancelled in the first place? But you're still here."

I know it was a tad bit mean, but come on, just because he was everything a hot, A-grade, football player should be, doesn't mean he can't take a bit of plain talking.

He dark onyx eyes flashed up to mine, more annoyed than sorry now. "I do," He snapped. "I can afford to spend some time with you. And as for the ride, Lucy, I swear I felt like punching Yukino when she let slip that she lives right next to you."

"I told you there was space in the car," I said, but this time I winked at him and smiled. I was done giving him a verbal butt kick, which sadly does not work on Adam and Zane. Usually with them, it's mostly physical mutuality.

I was thinking of the lines 'punching Yukino' when Natsu said, "If," he said. "We are over this, how about we get to know each other a bit more? Apart from you saving my neck and me being the egoistic football player."

My shock was, I'm sure, clear on my face. Because his next words were, "I saw your expression that day, it's pretty obvious what you think of me."

"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow. "And what exactly do I think of you?"

"That Natsu Dragneel has a huge ego, is stuck up and doesn't really seem very eager to return favours?" He raised his eyebrow, mimicking me.

Only the last part was correct. "Actually," I said coolly, recovering and sipping my frappe. "You're highly off the track. I may not be your normal fell-in-love-with-the-hottie-on-first-day newbie girl, but that's not what I think of you."

But only one word caught his attention and he dropped the serious boy attitude. "Hottie?" He asked with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes and gestured for him to continue with what he had been saying. "About you then," he repeated, the corner of his lips twitching.

"Me," I agreed, putting my frappe down. "I like Big Bang Theory better than How I Met Your Mother, I prefer chocolate over ice cream, to me the French Revolution makes better sense than trigonometry, I—"

"Lucy," Natsu said, suppressing a smile.

I grinned. "Fine," I said. "What do you want to know about me?"

"How old are you?"

"You shouldn't ask females that, don't you know?" I said with mock horror.

"Just answer the question, Luce," Natsu said, amused. Luce? No one called me Luce, no one but my mother. No one was allowed to call me anything but Lucy, and Natsu did.

"I'm 16," I told him, ignoring his nickname for me. "Going on 17." I joked lightly. "My birthday is on the first of July."

"So, why did you move to Magnolia?" Natsu asked, finally touching his mocha. The sunlight dimmed as the first few stars of the evening appeared, half hidden by the mist of the fading clouds.

"My mom remarried," I replied, feeling weird. "And now I'm stuck with two brothers."

He seemed to find this funny. Because he let out a short laugh and I felt like glaring at him for ten minutes straight. "Glad you find this funny," I snapped.

"Okay, sorry," Natsu stopped. "It's just that, brothers can't be that bad."

"Clearly you haven't met Adam and Zane," I muttered, though I secretly agreed with him. "They drink straight from the carton," I informed him.

Natsu stared at me. "Well, I do too," he said, obvious confusion on his face. "What else are you supposed to do?"

Oh gee, I don't know. Ever heard of a glass? There wasn't a single species of the male population who would find this information appalling, I'm sure.

"Hey Natsu?" I said suddenly, changing the subject. "Could you tell me something personal?"

His onyx eyes filled with curiosity. "What is it?" He asked warily.

"Could you tell me something about, well, you and Lisanna Strauss? Um, Lis?"

Bad question, bad idea. Heh. Didn't expect his face to cloud over and become all dark.

"What about her?" He asked.

"Um, well, she's my friend and I was just curious about something…non related to you, of course, but—"

"Lisanna told you about this?" Natsu looked furious. He stood up. No, not in the dramatic about-to-shout-at-me way, but the I-think-let's-call-it-a-day way.

"No!" I rushed. "It's…well I'm curious about Yukino and her. And since you know them both and you and Lis, you know..."

"I'm sorry, but that's way too personal," he said, pushing his chair in a finality for leaving. "For a girl like you to ask."

I would have totally understood if he stalked off without a word or chided me for being so imprudent. But what exactly in Fiore did me mean by a girl like me?!

"A girl like me?" I repeated, standing up as well. "As in?"

"As in," Natsu said, irritated and no longer smiling. "You're the new chick, and you know nothing about me. So don't ask me stuff about who I dated and all."

Sure, the only thing is, I never said anything about dating. Geez. "Fine," I said coldly, taking my purse from the table. "I won't ask."

"Good." Natsu looked down at our unfinished coffees.

"In fact," I said, mad. He called me chick and he called me Luce. The nerve. "I won't talk at all. Easier, yes?"

Without waiting for a reply, I made the dramatic exit by walking off. Except at that moment, I wasn't thinking of drama.


"Lucy."

I hadn't exactly asked him what underwear he wore, right? Okay fine, I too would have been mad if someone asked me about my dating experience, but he didn't have to say much except for 'Yukino came and told me my girlfriend slept with my enemy and I dumped her like a hot potato.'

"Lucy."

It's not as if I wasn't damn sure it was Yukino, I mean I had proof—you know, the diary—and something about what she'd written about herself not moping around after 'Sting and her'…

"Lucy!"

…Made me think she didn't just do it because she liked Natsu instead of Sting. She did it to get back at Sting, after they stopped dating, to get Natsu, and Lisanna was just caught up it in all. She must have been the first to have started the rumour around anyway, right?

"Lucy Heartfilia!"

"What?!" I snapped. Then, when my stepbrothers, Allen and Mom stared at me from around the dining table laden with chicken enchiladas today, I shut up with horror.

Adam, sitting right next to me, grabbed the short hairs at the back of my neck so that it hurt when twisted, and said, "Mom has been asking you for the sauce for ten minutes, dink."

Two things made me see red at the same time. First; Adam had the nerve to call Layla Mom? She was not his mom.

The second; Him grabbing me like that.

I acted on instinct, by wrenching my head away from his hands and punching him hard in the jaw. He almost fell off his chair, knocked off balance. His tousled hair became even messier as he straightened himself. Then he narrowed his eyes and slapped me across the face.

That did it. My cheek stung and I raised my hand to punch him some more, when Allen shouted; "Both of you, stop!"

"What's wrong with you?" Adam shouted at me angrily, as we both breathed heavily.

"Me?!" My voice went up an octave. "What's wrong with you? I heard my Mom, alright? You didn't have to grab me by the neck."

"Lucy," Mom, who apparently no longer had the appetite for the sauce I never passed, looked appalled. "Calm down."

But I wasn't listening to her. I glared at Adam, the humiliation of getting slapped by him out of all the people in this world making my eyes smart as I got up, pushing my chair back.

"And she's my mother," I said bitterly, "Not yours. So stop. Calling her. Mom."

I emphasized this with gritted teeth, and then I left the table, stomping up the stairs and rubbing off my sudden, angry tears.

I heard Zane calling me back to the table in a frustrated voice—mealtimes at the Day's were generally a family bonding time—but I ignored him too. Then, when I reached my room, I slammed the door shut behind me as I entered.

Then I dug out the nearest CD I had unpacked from my bag, and plugged it into my music system, grabbing the headphones and turning up the volume, high enough to barely burst my eardrums.

Stupid Magnolia.


When the sunlight hit me squarely in the face, I remembered it was the weekend and there was no escape from my stepbrothers with no school. The gothic rock CD was still replaying over and over in the headphones, and I realized I must have fallen asleep listening to it.

Once I took my headphones off, I was hit with a tremendous headache. No wonder—I spent eight hours with rock blasting my eardrums without any actual food in me.

After a few minutes of trying to get up and move around, and feeling the little enchiladas and frappe I had in my system coming up, I gave up. I was definitely sick.

Maybe it was because I didn't even bother to close the windows; remember that bit bad chilly wind? Yeah, that one came and gifted me with a headache—or whatever the colds gift you.

I crawled under my bed-sheets and lay there, until there was a soft knock on the door. I asked whoever it was to go away, until Zane poked his head in and said, "Um, Lucy? There's someone who wants to talk to you?"

"Who is it?" I groaned. I was over-tired, I couldn't get rid of the incessant images and music flashing through my brain, which made sleep impossible.

"Some…some boy," Zane said, embarrassed. "Should I tell him you're sick?"

Well. I am. "No, ask him to come up," I told him.

I had forgotten all about Gray telling me he would come over in the weekend. Cana, Gray and I were supposed to be working together for the fest—and yes, the Fiore annual summer music festival would be in Magnolia this time—but since Cana was out of town, Gray and I were supposed to work ahead.

But the boy who came in next was not Gray. It was Natsu Dragneel.

He didn't shut the door behind him; In fact, he left it open wide enough, like a gentleman.

Cue for snort. As I didn't know better.

"Lucy?" He asked, taking in my form on the bed. I realized I was in a huge T-shirt with the same boxer shorts I wore to bed, and with no bra on. Perfect.

"Yeah no, it's Kate Winslet," I said sarcastically. Then I sneakily pulled the cover over my chest and to my collarbone, trying to ignore the heat. "What do you want?"

"I came to apologize," he said. Neither of us added the again. Apologize again. "But, if you're sick, and all…" He trailed off, uneasily. "I just didn't want to discuss Lisanna."

"No, it's okay," I said. "I should say sorry anyway. And at least that's one person down."

He looked confused. He walked forward, looking ridiculously good in denim jeans and a checked blue-white flannel shirt, and sat down at the edge of my bed. I was positively sweating by now, stuck under the sheets in this heat.

"What do you mean?" He asked softly. I'm sure Mom, who had no idea I was sick, or even Allen for that matter, would have freaked out seeing an unknown boy sitting on the edge of my bed while I was lying there like helpless, blanketed idiot.

"I really gave it to my stepbrother last night," I shouldn't have felt lighter admitting this to Natsu, who I didn't want to speak to again, but I did. "And said some things."

"Well, what happened?"

I looked up at Natsu. "You know," I teased lightly, even though I still had not forgiven him for calling me chick and all. "I don't think a boy like you should be asking such questions." Especially when Yukino is out looking for you to spend a romantic weekend getaway, I didn't add.

As Natsu grinned, mimicking me again, for some reason I forgot all about my stepbrother.