GS Note: Hey yea! Here is the next part! :) I wanted it to be a bit long. It is over 3000 words, 7 pages so enjoy. Parts are gonna be slower now that school is starting tomorrow. Man, I still love those reviews! Keep them coming good folk!
Shella: Duo and Doro are brother and sister, they are living proof that water mixed with honey is waaay thicker then blood :)
Heero will get his slack just enough, no problemo. First I have to torture him a bit. But it will be well worth it, promise!
And yup, that blonde hanging with Duo and Doro is our very own Solo. I have to get that pic of him up soon seeing as I have never described him really…
That last poem is by broken soul, a friend of mine.
Chapter 3
Hate
//Gods be praised
My wish is answered
For a lover, a friend
My loneliness is at its end! //
Since that night at the movies Heero had become obsessed. He couldn't explain it; he couldn't even admit it to himself. He arrived at school early one day and spotted Duo coming off his bus. From there he trailed the braided boy to his locker. Heero had groaned out loud when he saw where it was, full across the building from his own.
He seriously considered asking the tall boy Duo shared a locker with for his crush's schedule but sneered at the idea. There was no way Heero Yuy was going to stoop down to the level of a crazed teenage girl!
Dorothy kept on sneaking him funny looks during math and lunch, but he was sure she was still fixed on the Relena idea. Even Marie could tell something was different with him. She asked him about it one night as he sat in the kitchen, idly poking at his mashed potatoes.
"Heero," he took the seat across from him on the small table specifically for her to eat at. Heero's parents didn't know that he hung out with Marie in the kitchen while they were gone and Heero wasn't about to tell them. "What's wrong?"
He jumped guiltily. "Nothing. Why do you ask?"
Marie just pointed at his plate.
He had pushed the mashed potatoes in the shape of a heart and was carving a large 'D' in it.
He felt his ears flame red as he stabbed the steak next to it and began to wrestle with it. Marie rolled her eyes and snorted at his silence.
"I know when someone has a crush, Mr. Yuy," she began to eat her corn. "I did live with five other sisters and three brothers. This is one of the worst I've seen in a long time." Heero stubbornly kept quiet and she gave up in a quiet defeat. But he missed the sly look she shot him later as he moved to put his dishes in the dishwasher.
The next day found Heero in the last place he ever expected to be.
He slumped in the comfortable chair, still trying to understand why he was waiting to see the vice-principal.
He remembered going into Art class with a fairly decent mindset. His last class had been great, a class discussion had sparked his debating skills and the challenge exhilarated him. He had sat down, like he always did, and the tormentors began to get restless. They didn't start out with small bits of paper but launched right into pencils and pen caps. Heero's good mood had evaporated instantly but he ignored them as usual, getting down to work on yesterday's assignment.
It was been taking shape, the fruit was beginning to emerge through the watercolour. Heero was almost proud of it; watercolour was not his strong point. He was putting the finishing shadow on, when a paper towel roll was fired at his ear.
Unfortunately, the bully had bad aim. It hit Heero's paintbrush, streaking blue over the green apple. It bounced on the wet paper, splattering colour and paint everywhere. Heero's near-perfectly controlled irritation snapped.
"What the fuck are you doing?" he growled low in his throat. He turned in his cheap chair to face the snickering boys. "I'm trying to fucking work so leave me alone."
One of the boys laughed. Heero's eyes narrowed.
It hadn't been more then one or two punches. To start out at least. He didn't mean for it to go as far as it did, really! But, despite his wishes, the class had turned into a big fight scene. Paints, paper and brushes flew through the air as one of the boys launched over the desk to attack him. It wasn't his fault the boy's arm had landed on an open tube of red and it had stained the teacher's shirt. It certainly couldn't be put on him when he had pushed the boy away into a desk and it fell over, breaking a metal leg. The kid should have worked out more. And there was no way anyone could blame him for the phone and blackboard. They must have been badly built before he slammed those two guys into them; there was no way they could break that easily other wise.
But, obviously, someone had decided Heero was to blame. So here he was, squirming in the hot leather seat, wincing as it squeaked, waiting for VP Une. It puzzled him that he was the only one sent down, but that could attribute to the fact that his teacher was terrified of her students and Heero tended to be the milder one.
He was grumbling, hiding his nervousness with a stony glare when the door opened in the quiet office.
It was him.
Duo Maxwell stepped in sheepishly as the door slammed shut. The secretary glared furiously at him when she looked up. Heero suddenly felt pure hatred for the woman.
"What do you want?"
"Um, Mr. Graham told me to ask for the permission slips for the grade nine retreat," Duo was a little taken back from his welcome. The woman sighed and waved him to wait next to Heero.
A pleasant numbness settled over Heero's body as his mind raced for something, anything to say.
"Hn."
Heero groaned inside his head. Brilliant, what a good first impression.
"Hello," Duo offered a hand. Heero stared at it for a minute before remembering what to do with it.
He felt his ears burn as he shook the hand, making for certain the expressionless mask on his face was secure. He forced himself to calm down with an iron will.
Duo's hand was warm.
"My name's Duo, I haven't seen you around before, who are you?"
"Heero Yuy." Heero gave an inner wince. It had come out a bit harsh. Duo shrugged.
"Oh, I've heard of you! You're Doro's new friend, right?"
Heero felt his brain function cease. Shock hit him like lightening. Duo Maxwell, the boy he practically considered God, knew about him? He realised with a jolt that Duo was looking at him strangely.
"Yes." Heero could feel his ears start to burn again. He buckled down again. Regis in a thong, Regis in a thong…
"So…what are you here for?"
Heero glared at the clock on the wall opposite to him. He tried his best to keep himself under control. "I was in a fight."
"Oh," Heero could feel Duo looking him over. "In the art room?"
How did he know? Heero thought he had a heart attack from the jolt he felt. Did…did Duo know his schedule? This time, Regis wasn't helping too much. Heero could feel hot excitement race through him. Duo knew he was in art! He knew who he was! Dorothy talked about him! He could feel his fingers tingling
"Uh, you're clothes are covered in paint."
It was like a splash of cold water. Heero nodded jerkily, as the secretary came back with a pile of papers. Duo waved good bye as Heero just sat there stonily. As soon as the door swished shut behind the braided teen. Heero slumped in his seat and groaned. That went well.
VP Une stepped out of her office.
"Heero Yuy?"
This day wasn't getting any better.
Heero had only gotten off with a warning, fortunately. VP Une had thoroughly terrified him with just her intense stare. He was glad to be out of there. The second bell hadn't rung yet but there were only ten minutes left in class. Heero wasn't about to waste them in art.
There were older students on spares and others skipping so Heero didn't look too out of place wandering around the school. He didn't have a particular destination in mind but walked aimlessly. It didn't take long until he saw a door he had been searching for on his lunch since the beginning of school.
The library. He smiled slightly as he grabbed the handle to the heavy door and pulled.
It was almost completely empty. Maybe six or seven students sat around the tables and another two or three reading or looking at books. The library was built on two levels, the lower one for computer and the upper one for books. Fiction was on one side, non-fiction on the other. A section was almost blocked off for children's books. There was one student in there sitting at one of the baby tables reading Franklin. On the opposite wall with the office and seminar rooms was a corner for comic books and magazines. Vertical files sat all along the tops of the bookshelves of the non-fiction.
Heero took a breath of the rich air.
The final bell rung.
Damn.
He briefly considered dodging the chauffeur but remembered that his parents had returned from a tour of France a few hours before. They were probably waiting for him. He sighed and turned to leave the room. At least now that he had found the damn library he could return here during his lunch. That is, if he could find it again.
With all the Yuys home, the quiet, empty mansion was transformed. The gardeners that worked once a day, usually during school hours, were out in full force. Heero heard and saw the dozens of maids and butlers cleaning, polishing and doing other various chores. Several men in dark suits stood around entrances looking official. Heero brushed past one on his way into the house. He felt like a dwarf next to him. He couldn't escape to the kitchen. Marie wasn't alone now that the full cooking staff was back. As usual there were also a few business people milling around doing what seemed like hundreds of tasks, from answering phones to searching for lost items.
Heero didn't even try to find his parents. He walked unhindered to his room, glaring at anyone in his way. He felt very out of place with his school clothes on. Everyone was formal in this house; jeans and a sweater didn't follow with the dress code. After shooing out a few maids, he locked the door behind him, leaving the faint bustling noises of phones and people behind him. He took a deep breath and changed into a more dressier outfit. It was only three o'clock but he knew that, as with every returned, his parents were going to throw a small party for investors and media.
He managed to spend almost an hour going unnoticed by the crowd. He hadn't even found his parents yet. He knew Marie wouldn't be able to talk to him, not with all these people around. In a week it would calm down and he might see her again, but not now. He was on his own.
He refamiliarised himself with the rest of the mansion while he searched for his mother and father only getting lost a few times. He forced himself to smile politely and even exchanged a few pieces of small talk before he came across an ally in trouble.
Quatre's pale face nodded formally as the older gentleman continued on with his one-sided conversation. The young teen's wide eyes casually scanned the room for someone to help him escape. He found Heero. He spared a second to look at him pleadingly before he laughed slightly at a joke the old man had made. There was a desperate edge to it.
Heero slide his way across the large semi-crowded room filled with well-dressed people, all laughing and talking about the success of his parents. He managed to get through without more then one or two interruptions. He tapped Quatre on the shoulder. The blonde turned around and smiled gratefully.
"Please excuse me, Mr. Timberwood," Heero said in a flat tone. He tried to put a bit of diplomacy in it and failed. "I need to talk to Mr. Winner for just a moment."
The older man blinked and smiled slightly. "Of course, I'm sorry for keeping you Mr. Winner."
"Think nothing of it," Quatre did a much better job of smiling and apologizing then Heero did. "I hope we can talk more later. Your views on the affect of Western economics impacting the lifestyle of Latin America is very interesting."
Despite the regretful tone, Quatre outpaced Heero as they hurried away from the crowd and out of the room. They stayed in the narrow hall, Quatre catching his breath and Heero keeping a look out. Quatre's pale cheeks were flush but his eyes shone brightly.
"Thank you, Heero," he said as soon as he could breath properly again.
"No problem," the tone was still monotone but the skinny teen didn't care. "Have you seen my parents?"
"I suspect they are with mine. I think they were greeting the Japanese investors by the front door."
Heero wrinkled his nose. His mother had a horrible grasp of the Japanese language. She was born in France and hadn't quite been able to change from that flowing pace to the sharp syllables of Japanese. Fortunately his father had been born and raised in Japan.
They did find Heero and Quatre's parents greeting the foreign businessmen. His father did most of the talking but his mother was able to converse with some of them through her grating Japanese and their halting English. They didn't even notice Heero.
Dinner began and they finally greeted Heero as he took his seat beside them.
"Oh Heero! Where have you been?"
"I was looking around for you, mother," Heero replied as he took his seat and glanced across the room to where Quatre was seated beside his mother and one of his sisters. His ally was gone.
"We met the most wonderful girl," his mother continued. "Her parents just bought some of our shares. She's just lovely, I'll introduce you tonight."
Heero felt he urge to smash his head against the table. Or maybe a wall, a nice thick brick wall. Nobody would mind…
Heero suddenly wished, not for the first time, he was just a normal kid. Not rich, not living the good life, but normal with an annoying little sister, a loud dog, parents who were worried about mortgage payments and that cranky neighbour next door. He wanted to veg out in front of the television with a pop and chip, spending an hour and a half on the phone with his friends or hanging out and playing basketball. Instead, here he was. Eating food he didn't recognize, listening to people talk about the business world and understanding it better then they did. He parents were setting him up with someone he didn't even like. He couldn't even yell at them, or talk back because they weren't ever there.
This wasn't a childhood. It was prison.
Heero ate the dinner. He smiled at the guests. He forced a friendly tone with the French girl. He listened to the endless chatter. He kept his thoughts to himself.
But, when the guests left at about three in the morning and he was finally free to talk to his parents, he didn't hold back.
"Wasn't Anne-Marie lovely—"
"I hate this."
"What?" his parents said in a shocked tone at once. It was almost funny how their faces matched. Almost.
"I hate this life. I'm not doing anymore of these parties. I'm going to bed and when you leave on your next trip to Germany or what not, don't find anymore girls for me. I'm going to bed to get some sleep so I can go to school in a few hours and have a normal life. Bye."
He turned and didn't wait for a reaction. He walked calmly up the stairs, ignoring the last guests and staff. He opened his door with steady hands, stepped in and turned to look hatefully at the hall. In one smooth motion he slammed the door with all his might. He felt a bit better.
He brushed his teeth, changed and crawled into bed. The clock in his room told him he had to wake up again in four more hours. He sat quietly in the dark thinking, before twisting and slamming his fist against the wall behind his bed. He felt a bit better.
He clicked on the reading light on the table beside his bed. Opening a small drawer on the table, he pulled out a small, cheap notebook and a pen.
//I hate you.
I hate what you do,
I hate what you are,
I hate the way you talk
I hate the way you speak
I hate you
I hate everything about you.
I hate the way I want to kill you.
I hate the way I see it so easily
But mostly I hate the way,
You never even care.
Not
Even
One
Little
Bit.//
Heero put the notebook and pen back. He flicked off the light and pulled the blankets up to his chin. He felt a bit better.
