A/N: I wasn't getting any sleep so I wrote out a chapter!

Enjoy, review if you can, and don't forget to hug a puppy!

(Matt P.O.V)

My drama class could not have come sooner and I was feeling the anxiety now more than ever. I was afraid that Mello would look at me and not even recognize me at all. I was scared he'd laugh at me and find a new group to hang around, or that he'd not even see me and walk right past me like a shadow. I was scared he'd ask me why I stopped writing to him, or worse ask me why I wrote to him at all even after he stopped writing to me. But what I feared, even more than all of that combined, was that after today… I'd never see him again.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and I jumped almost instantly. I half expected to see a seven year old Mello right beside me and asking about me, but it was just Near bringing me out of my reverie.

He asked me why I was so jumpy, and I told him about Mello and how I'd be seeing him again for the first time in years in either today's class or later after school. He seemed quite interested in this, but I couldn't answer any further questions due to my fear.

I heard a few jock-heads mocking us for sitting so close to each other, calling us fags yet again, but I ignored them. The only thing that was truly on my mind was Mello… and how different he'd be when he walked through that door.

I blinked the tiredness from my eyes and stretched a bit. My drama class wasn't that early in the morning, but I hadn't slept a wink last night knowing I'd be seeing my oldest friend in my life… if he'd even let me call him that anymore. And it didn't help that Mello had asked about me beforehand, so it was safe to say that Jason told him more than he let on. I doubt Mello knew less than just the fun trivia facts around my records, and I feared greatly for what he'd bring up during our meeting.

Especially since I had no dirt on him.

The class started and my anxiety rose once more. I expected for him to enter through the door at any given moment now.

Sadly, though, no one but those in my class beforehand were there. The drama kids, the jocks with no talent, the ditsy cheerleaders, and us two. I was greatly saddened by this the entire half of the class, thinking about how I'd have to face him after school…

…then came the knock…

…And slowly the door opened to the class…

…

…and I think my jaw nearly dropped.

A tall, leggy, curvy blonde walked into the class, clad in tight black jeans, leather boots, and a semi-tight white t-shirt with a thin leather coat. His hair was tied up and behind him, his face unmarked, skin glowing wherever it showed – which was a few places – and his blue eyes sparkled in the dimly lit theatre where our class was being held. And when he walked, it was with a confidence unseen by anyone else at this school. He didn't clump around like a doofus, or shuffle in place like a penguin holding an egg. He glided across the floor with gentle clicks in-between his steps like a gentle breeze.

All eyes were on this magnificent piece of artwork as he practically owned the ground he walked upon and made his way to the teacher before us. Even she was stunned to see this paragon of perfection in her classroom. And maybe that was going overboard a bit, but it was the truth. Teenagers should not have the capability to walk with such grace and dignity, not until much later or not at all. He'd trained himself to walk this way, to own the rooms he managed to silence with a single step. And he did so without batting an eye.

And it didn't help that he had such a perfect complexion and stature to boot. Not to mention his hair was clean and free of knots, his spine straight and poised, and his eyes were steely but shining. He recognized his task and yet he still had the power to make them shine so brightly. I wondered briefly whether or not that he had more emotion than this grey and unimpressive look.

But it was fleeting as we all awaited to hear him speak.

Once he stopped in front of the teacher, he dug into his pack that I hadn't noticed was on his person, then handed her a note.

"My name is Mihael Keehl," came his clean yet practiced voice. "But I'd prefer to be called Mello. I'll be joining in your class this semester."

I could literally feel my heart stop at this.

I expected Mello to be different… but not like this.

When we were kids… we were hardly clean and well cut. I sure as hell wasn't at this point either. But Mello - - Mello had become…

God, what was the word for it? I had no idea!

The teacher immediately was brought out of her thoughts and smiled at the blonde. "Well then, Mello, I'm… glad to have you here as a student!"

She then gestured to the class and asked us to welcome him warmly.

More than a few males in my class were struck with awe at this guy – a male who could outmatch any female if he so chose to – and when asked to welcome him, they all turned to mush when they spoke. The more cocky ones threw him a few flirtatious grins and wiggled brows. Me? I was too stunned to speak. Maybe because I feared that he'd see me and suddenly wonder why we were ever friends in the first place.

Unlike Mello, I grew up in a school where you were separated into what you were. I was an outcast, not really belonging to anyone in particular. But Mello? With the way he looked? I'm too sure he'd be in the hands of the popular kids in no time. The 'it' crowd and the 'haves' would want him just so they could look at him.

I wouldn't get my chance to speak with him anytime soon.

The teacher, Miss Carol, then asked Mello the following,

"Dear, in this class we speak about the many types of plays and dramas throughout our history. And we encourage newcomers to prove their knowledge on the subject as best as they can-"

"Say no more." He interrupted as he set his bag down before shooting her a small grin. "May I?"

She let him have the stage, and he began.

"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy.

"Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.

"Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part

"Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!"

He took a brief pause to look out to the audience before walking over, ever so smoothly, to Miss Carol's desk, and plucked the single rose she had in her vase.

He smiled at the rose before silently striding back to his place on the stage. "What's Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot,

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose

"By any other word would smell as sweet.

"So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called,

"Retain that dear perfection which he owes

"Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,

"And for that name, which is no part of thee…"

And, in that brief moment where he looked over to both Near and I, I could see the recognition in his eyes. That moment of contact when his eyes met mine, and we both remembered the memories we once had together as kids, however long ago it may have seemed.

He smiled at me. "Take all myself."

With his scene finished the audience was in uproar at his performance, but it looked as though he barely noticed them cheering. His eyes were fixed on me, and mine on him.

Mello… my best friend… was still there. No matter how much he changed in the years, he was still there.

The moment he gathered himself together and realized he'd finished his scene, he grabbed his stuff off the floor, returning the rose, and took a bow. More than a fair share of guys cheered for him, but I wasn't too sure that he noticed.

Because, once he was done with his appraisal, he ran over to where I was sitting and – without thinking – we both hugged each other happily. I didn't even care about the few glances and angry looks a few students gave us. I was just glad to have Mello back into my life.

That feeling in my chest came back once more, but I chose to ignore it. I was happy… that's all that mattered.

I felt Mello tighten his arms around my neck. "I'm so happy to see you again, Matt!"

I squeezed back. "Same here, Mels. It's been way too long!"

I heard a few whispers of 'They know each other!' and one or two 'How?!' in between, but I chose to ignore this. What did they matter anyway? All that mattered was I was with Mello, and he was with me.

Friends once again.

He let me go to look at me with a questioning eye. "You'll never ditch the goggles will you?"

"Only when you give up chocolate." I quipped back knowingly.

But I'd never tell him how he gave away his addiction by simply breathing on me. But chocolate breath on him… was not all that bad. It was something I would be able to live with around him as a friend.

The class began once again, Mello taking his seat beside me and Near, and the day continued on for me. And for once, I wanted the school day to last forever!