Author Notes: So, honest moment. Not too sure what to do next. I mean, yeah, I've set things up for the ending and for a few scenes along the way, but as far as right now? Eh. Think I'm going to have a little more Lizzy alone time and then see what happens. The stage is set. Now to push forward, but what to do first? Hrm. Let's see what NaNoWriMo pushes me to write. This is the fun part.

I hope to have these three together soon. I really, really do. I also think it's incredibly close and soon we're going to start seeing all kinds of drama and, yeah. I love my slow build ups, and it's really helpful to know where the end is and where I'm going, but the story itself is still open as to all the details. That's the fun in writing after all.

~!~

Incomplete

~!~

Chapter 7: Elizaveta

Walking to school with Gilbert Beilschmidt was the worst experience of my life. First off, he had a bike, which meant he would ride circles around me or ride up the street and then come back. Every time he rode off, I held my breath, hoping he would keep going. But then he would come back and I would flex my fingers against my backpack strap wondering why he kept coming back to me.

Ludwig. It was Ludwig's fault.

The little brother walked beside me, keeping to himself, but I was sure if he hadn't been there, then Gilbert would have shoved on ahead without a care in the world. For whatever reason, there was softness in the red eyes whenever Ludwig wanted something or whenever his little brother was brought up in conversation at all. I hadn't noticed at first, but the annoying albino asshole apparently had some emotions worth holding onto deep in that crevice of a jerk heart. Big brother feelings to watch over the one younger than him.

Well, I suppose there was a saving grace for everyone.

After what felt like the hundredth time of Gilbert riding circles around the country road, I sighed long and hard. "Why on earth do you even bother with the bike if you're not going to use it properly?"

He skidded to a stop ahead of us and stared back at me like I was crazy for asking such a thing. "Shouldn't it be obvious?"

I raised an eyebrow. "No. It's definitely not obvious, Gilbert, or I wouldn't be asking."

"I don't know," he hummed as we walked up closer to him. "I feel like you miss a lot of obvious things. You being a girl and all."

Oh he did not...

Without a second's hesitation, I walked up to him and swung my pack at his head. He yelped as he fell from his bike, coughing in the dust of the road. His brother knelt beside him and pulled the bike up, but even Ludwig was shaking his head like he could agree with my actions. Damn right he should.

"Brother," Ludwig muttered, "You shouldn't antagonize her."

Gil brushed dirt out of his hair as he got to his feet and I smirked and walked on by. "Fucking abusive bitch. She shouldn't hit me so hard, even if I did deserve something."

I rolled my eyes. "What? You so weak you can't take it? You'd think a tough guy like you could handle a few smacks from a helpless woman, wouldn't you?"

"Keh," Gilbert scoffed. "You're no helpless chick. And you know it."

I shrugged and continued to walk ahead, trying to leave him in my dust. I didn't need to watch over Ludwig. The boy could handle himself and if he couldn't, then Gilbert would take care of him. I didn't need to watch over or suffer walking with Gilbert, either. From now on, I had determined that I would leave earlier so as to leave him in my dust without having to knock him off the damn bike to do so.

Oh, and I should mention the fact that his comment had absolutely no affect on me. Nope, none at all. I didn't care about being a typical girl. I was glad to be different. I was glad to be the type to protect herself. I didn't need to be a stupid damsel in distress. I could handle myself, thank you very much, and I wasn't going to let some misogynist dick's comment get me uncomfortable.

"Good," I muttered to myself as I walked on ahead. "It's not like I want or need a guy to protect me from the assholes of the world anyway."

Because I didn't.

~!~

It wasn't the first day of school anymore. Neither was it the second. But it was still the first week and Gilbert's words that first night haunted me in the back of my mind. Words saying things would get interesting this first week. How things would change with his friends. How the town would go crazy during Homecoming week, but Homecoming was a month or more away so I wasn't particularly worried about that part. Not yet at least.

I walked the hallways surrounded by people but alone. Gilbert was the only one in the school who gave me a wave or grin, which made me happy to have him around and yet annoyed at the same time. His reputation was awful. I figured it had to be bad, but I didn't realize how bad until later in the week.

Lunch hour was one of the worst moments of school life for me. When you didn't have any friends, there was no such thing as time to relax. Sure, some nerds may have been perfectly fine sitting alone and reading or wasting time in the library after eating, but I was not like that. I craved interaction. I needed socializing on some level. As much as I postured about how I didn't need anyone, deep down inside I was sorely missing my best friend who was half a world away.

I sat at a table and ate alone. I had picked out a little spot on the edge of one of those long cafeteria tables. There were other people sitting at the table, of course, but always a few seats away from me, and always engaged in conversation that clearly was not meant to include me. Natalia, the girl who had met me in the bathroom my first day, was always at this table, and always glaring around the place as she sat next to a tall guy with equally white shaded hair. Similar but not the same as Gilbert's. The fake white. White blond or dyed, I still couldn't tell, but definitely not the same as the albino asshole who tormented my daily school life.

I soon learned that Gilbert didn't torment me alone. He was all about bothering others. Or interrupting and annoying a whole crowd of people. This never was more apparent than during lunch hour.

In his typical loud voice, Gilbert Beilschmidt called out for the attention of the entire cafeteria. "All right, fellow members of accepted public school prison, it's time for your weekly announcement!"

A chorus of groans flowed throughout the cafeteria and I glanced around to realize everyone else was both accustomed to this announcement idea – and rather unwelcoming about it. Except for one. The tall platinum blond haired definitely-had-Russian-in-his-genes brother of Natalia. He only smiled at the albino's antics and sat forward in his seat a little curiously, even as his sister growled and glared.

"What is it this time, little bunny?" The guy said as Gilbert hopped up on the table where his trio of friends was sitting. "Are you going to admit to your gay pride?"

"Shut up, Ivan!" Gilbert snapped back, red eyes hot with anger. "I can support my friends without participating in their marches and – shit – that's not what this is about anyway."

"Oh?" Ivan responded. "What is it about then?"

I had no idea what this gay pride business was about, but clearly these two had some sort of history. And I was curious about Gilbert's view on the matter, not that I cared much for political leanings. I had lived somewhere besides America; why would I care about their political bullshit anyway? Still, the very little hints that were dropped in that icy smile and snappish retorts led me to believe there was something deeper and quite honestly I was curious to know about the town and the people that lived here.

Even if it meant getting to know a certain albino.

"I was going to make the point," Gilbert said with a scoff and a sudden glare that circled the entire room. "That I think you guys are being assholes to the new members of our student body."

Oh god. Please tell me he isn't...I don't need the attention. I don't want the attention. This isn't going to end well. Doesn't he know by bringing attention to me he's going to ruin any chance I have of striking out with my own social standings?

"New members?" Ivan questioned, apparently being the only one to respond nicely even with his icy smile.

There were a few other remarks, of course. For one, a lot of people were shouting at Gilbert to get off the table and to go back to whatever he was doing and to leave the rest of them out of it. No one cared about his stupid announcements or comments on the student body's current representation.

"Ja," Gilbert said, the harsh German sound adding to his affirmative. "For one, there's Lizzy."

Oh god, he did.

And what made everything worse was the moment he jumped off the table and came to sit next to me. Feeling my face heat up at the attention of nearly everyone in the cafeteria, I brought my hands to my head and tried to keep my own gaze on the food in front of me. Ignore the loud albino now sitting next to me. Ignore his words. Ignore his movements. Ignore everything -

That was impossible.

"Lizzy here," Gilbert went on, putting an arm around my shoulders and making me grind at my teeth at the urge to throw him off. "Came all the way from Hungary, so she's bound to have awesome stories to tell. Hell, I knew her when we were kids, and I can tell you she's pretty fucking awesome."

I heard a scoff from the table. Not Ivan, but the sister. Natalia. "Then that makes her your girlfriend?"

What? No. No way. No chance in hell.

Gilbert's response pretty much echoed mine. "What?"

"Good riddance," Natalia went on. "You two can carry on together without interrupting the rest of us."

Oh no. I can't. This won't work. I can't allow this. I won't let them think -

"He's not -" I cleared my throat, tried again. Hearing my voice coming out like a meek little child, all whispery and unfocused. No, I wouldn't stand for that. When I caught the wide grin of the albino out of the corner of my eye, and felt his hand start to travel lower, my anger exploded. Right on cue. "He's not my boyfriend!"

My elbow moved first. I shoved it into his chin or maybe his throat, knocking him back and away. One move didn't feel good enough, though. I was angry enough that he would ruin my reputation. Angry that the townspeople and kids would think I was actually going out with this asshole. Angry that he would even dare to think I'd be okay with him as a boyfriend. I had plenty of reasons to turn around and beat him to a pulp, but I did manage to hold back.

A little bit.

~!~

Of all the things I had anticipated for my first week of school, being admonished in the principal's office was not one of them. Starting a fight was not one of them. Getting detention was most definitely not one of them. Being stuck in detention with an annoying albino asshole was even further from my list of expectations.

Seeing Gilbert's bloody nose and growing black eye was worth it, though. I was sure my parents would fuss at me when I got home today, if they found out the reason for Gilbert being so banged up, but I would deal with that issue when it happened. For now, I had to find something to gloat over, and if I had to hold my head high as I accepted the detention and tongue lashing from the school's principal then so be it. After all, Gilbert got the worse end of the deal.

Being beat up by a girl was sure to ruin him even more. Then again, I doubt he cared much about reputation when his was already far at the bottom. What was the point of his stunt anyway? Was he trying to drag me down with him? Because so far, he was being successful and it was pissing me off.

Be his girlfriend? Hah! What an absurd idea. He was at the very heart of all my problems and I wanted nothing more to be away from him for good. Except life kept throwing him in my way. Okay, so life itself and its little coincidences was pissing me off even more than Gilbert Beilschmidt. So be it.

Sitting in detention was the worst ever. Well, maybe not. I couldn't decide what the worst thing to happen so far had been, but this was most definitely one of the most boring. For his part, Gilbert leaned back in his chair and started humming to himself much to the annoyance of the guarding teacher. He got told to be quiet and to set his chair down, he surprisingly did as told, and then the quiet encased the room once more.

I was a little surprised to find that we were the only two in the detention room after school. I guess no one else was crazy enough to start their stunts on the first week of school. I guess most people actually tried to behave at first and things just blew up over time. Then again, this was a small town. There were decidedly less chances of seeing a full room of detention every single week.

Well, at least I finally had the peace and quiet to get my homework done. Math was easy and done with quickly, though I disagreed with the amount handed to us. It felt like busy work, but I was quick enough to rush through everything and be done with thirty minutes still left to waste in detention. History required reading, and I did not want to read right this minute so I grumbled and looked around after finishing the math.

Imagine my surprise when I saw Gilbert reading his history book, and by the looks of it he was delving ahead. Was he done with the homework reading assignment or was he skipping to a part that he was interested in? If the former, I was shocked. If the latter, I was completely floored. Then again, the history teacher had been the only one worried about Gilbert's absence on the first day and the albino did seem to be the one answering most of the questions in that class anyway. So what was it about history that made the loud and obnoxious albino shut up and learn? Curiouser and curiouser.

With a groan, I turned to my English homework, and then just as quickly finished those assignments. Easy and annoying, especially because the teacher had the nerve to hand me extra busy work just to "make sure I was caught up." What a bitch. Really. I could handle it just fine. I was not stupid because I came from a different country no matter what she thought. What was wrong with the American education system if they had the nerve to treat foreign transfers like total idiots when they transferred in? I was ahead of most of their citizens and still had to work harder to prove myself.

The sound of snoring broke me out of my inward ranting and I turned to see the albino had fallen asleep with his history textbook open. I rolled my eyes. So much for Gilbert actually caring about his education. Amazing, though, that the teacher would allow this jerk to fall asleep in detention. Wasn't that normally not allowed? We were supposed to work on homework or find other ways to busy ourselves; it wasn't much of a punishment if we took a nap.

Just as I was wondering whether or not the teacher would do something, he walked up to the sleeping failure and shook him lightly to wake him up. "Beilschmidt, you can sleep at home. Not at school."

"Hm?" Gil muttered, eyes blinking open and yawning. "Is detention over already?"

No. We still have -

But even as my mind answered in the negative, the teacher responded otherwise. "Yes. Now get out of my classroom."

Gilbert grinned, but I narrowed my eyes. "Hey, wait."

The teacher – one I didn't have normally, by the way – turned to me. "Yes, Miss Hedervary?"

I twitched. He couldn't say my name right. Then again, not many people here could. Americans in general didn't know how to pronounce foreign names, though I should give them points for trying. Should.

"We still have a few minutes left," I said, pointing toward the clock on the wall. "Unless you're letting Gilbert out early and not me, which wouldn't exactly be fair."

To my astonishment, the teacher shrugged. "I don't care what time it is. I've wasted enough of my practice time watching you two love birds. I have a team to get back to and you two would be better off walking home together to solve your relationship problems."

Hearing such things from a teacher set me off guard. Then I saw Gilbert grinning like a fool and I felt my blood boil instead. This misunderstanding would have to stop. I couldn't take it if the entire school, or beyond, started to believe in this stupid rumor.

"We're not -" but I was interrupted.

By Gilbert. "Aw, don't try to be all goody-goody, Lizzy. Take what you can get when you get it. Besides, your parents will be wondering where we are, won't they?"

Damn it. He has a point. And I can't start a fight with a teacher here. Fine. I'll beat him up later if he deigns it necessary to keep teasing me about this rumor. I can't believe this had to happen!

Grumbling a bit under my breath, I handed the teacher my detention slip, watched him sign it, and then filed it away in my notebook. There would be no reason to show this to my parents. I could forge their signature and bring it to the office tomorrow without anyone knowing. Except Gilbert. Who would probably spill everything the moment he walked through the door. Damn it. So much for starting with a clean record. Everything was already ruined and it was only the first week of school. My parents were going to be upset with me for lashing out like a little kid. I was supposed to be the mature one, supposed to be the better person now.

Heh. Like that was even possible when I had to deal with him.

Thankfully, he didn't say anything else until we made it to the classroom exit, but there was a new jump in his step and I had the urge to trip him up because of it. How dare he be happy and peppy while I had to suffer and wallow in my misery of everything that had been ruined. No friends. Nobody wanted to get too close to me since Gilbert seemed so interested in hanging around all the time. No chance of a real boyfriend. The rumors about me and Gil, once again, were going to ruin any luck I had in that area.

Ugh. I just wanted to shove him over the side of a bridge and be done with it.

Of course, that was too violent. And as much as I thought it, I doubt I'd ever actually do something so destructive. There was a difference, after all, between causing harm and actually killing. As much as I could imagine and wish for a world without this dumb albino following me around, I knew there was nothing I could do to stop it. Gilbert did what Gilbert wanted and not even the adults of the town could hold him back.

Together, we walked out of the classroom. Together, we walked down the hallway. I held my anger and annoyance in. I wanted to shove or punch the bounce-in-his-step albino, but I held it in. I had to do that much. At least wait until we were out on the country road again where no one could see. Except this way everyone could see. Walking to school together. Showing up together. Going to detention together. Walking home together. I did not want to be close to this guy for one more second, but I had no choice at this point and it was driving me up the wall.

The sound of a piano entered the otherwise silent hallways and I stumbled a bit in my step. "What's that?"

Gilbert frowned beside me. "Just a piano. We do have one here, you know. The choir has to have one, after all."

"We have a choir?" I turned back to Gilbert, but at his scoff I turned away again. Where was the piano sound coming from? Where was the choir room? "But...it's after hours. Why would someone be playing it?"

A glance to the albino. I watched as he shrugged and started walking down the hallway again. We were almost to the exit, except the sound was coming from the other hall and I couldn't make my feet move forward anymore.

"Hell if I know," Gil muttered. "But Francis did say the new guy liked to play."

I blinked. "New guy?"

"Yeah," Gilbert said. "But who cares?"

New guy. New chance. I still have a chance. He plays piano. I mean, it sounds empty, like it's just one hand, but at least it was better than hanging out with the worst bad boy in town.

"I do," I said, turning to start my walk down this unexplored hall. "Go on ahead. I'll be home soon."

I caught the red eyes rolling. "Whatever. It's not like I wanted to walk home with you anyway."

Even as he turned and rushed out of the school, I had to pause for a moment. What on earth kind of response was that? Usually someone said that when they did want whatever they said they didn't want. Because some people couldn't be straight up honest with themselves or others. But why would Gilbert want to walk home with me so much? Did he really enjoying tormenting me every hour of every day he could? What the hell, that was like some little kid trying to get attention from a girl. A grade-school version of flirting.

What an idiot.

I rolled my eyes, shrugged it off, and decided to explore the empty school hallway. Eventually I managed to find the source of the piano music. A small back room, not the choir room I had assumed because of Gilbert's comment. Looking through the one window on the door I saw the back of a well dressed boy about our age – heck, he was wearing the uniform but somehow he made it look more regal and rich than it should be possible. One arm was in a cast, which explained why the sound was so empty, but still he sat at the baby grand piano in the small back room in the corner of the school playing what sounded like the right hand melody of a Chopin piece.

Of course it was impossible to tell for sure because it was only one half of the music, but I sensed more feeling in the little their was than in any CD I had ever listened to or live performer (except the grand concert halls of my past) I had witnessed. There was something different about the way he played, beyond the fact that he was only playing with one hand, and the sense of longing I could feel emanating from the room made me suck in a breath and interrupt the music, if only to come to the rescue of someone who appeared so lost.

As expected, opening the door stopped the music almost immediately. The boy turned around and faced me and my heart stopped the moment those heavily dark blue eyes found mine. Not only was he a good pianist – or so I assumed if he could make music like that with only one hand – but he had the handsome visage of some wealthier family, like he was being pruned to be famous somewhere down the road. His hair was well tamed except for a single wavy strand that seemed to be insisting to do whatever it wanted. His clothes, like I said earlier, well pressed and accented with small precious stones in all the right places so as not to appear like a gaudy woman. But damn there was an allure to him I had not expected in the least and it threw me for a loop the moment the lightning struck.

"Did you need something?" The handsome guy asked and even if he did not smile I felt myself pulled toward him even more.

What was it my mother had said once? Hormones? Attraction? Sure, love at first sight was silly and only found in romance novels, but this was entirely something else. And I knew exactly what that something else was, though I wasn't too sure if I was willing to act on it at all. I only had to wonder what he looked like when smiling.

Because he looked so sad and distant.

"I, uhm," I cursed my stutter but plowed forward. "I heard the music."

His lips pressed together and he hummed. "Yes, I was practicing."

"I figured," I mumbled, still standing there awkwardly with the door open. My brain wasn't working as intended at the moment. "Chopin, right?"

He shook his head. "Liszt."

"Ah," I licked my lips, feeling my face heat. "Sorry. I should know that one. I'm half Hungarian and Dad used to play a lot of his stuff. Uh, I mean the CD or tape or record, though, not that he could actually play Liszt. His stuff is pretty hard."

Even though I rambled, the guy nodded along. He turned around and seemed to glare at the piano keys, but he was listening. "Made even harder with one hand, but Mother would want me to practice something."

Pushing my nerves to the side, I raised an eyebrow. Closed the door. Walked over to stand behind him. Well, beside him but still behind him. You know, that awkward place right beside the piano bench when you were just within the piano player's peripheral vision but – well, whatever.

"I'm sure she wouldn't expect you to practice with only one hand."

The boy shook his head. "No, she would expect it. I have to do something. Besides, I want to feel the music again, and this is a better piano than the one at the house I am currently residing in."

Wow. That language. He sounds prime and proper. Maybe he really does come from some rich family. Why would he be way out here then?

"Sadly," he went on, putting his one hand up on the keys, "I cannot get the full effect because of my arm."

"Yeah," I nodded dumbly. "It sounds pretty empty with only one hand."

He hummed again. "I wish I could find a song to play that would not cause such emptiness."

I frowned. This was really bugging him, wasn't it? He looked so downtrodden, like a cute little puppy kicked into the mud and now lost and far from its owner. Was he that connected to music? I mean, I loved music and all, but wasn't that a bit much? Then again, everyone had the one hobby or pastime in life that excited them, that felt more real than social interaction. I had yet to find my one hobby beyond writing letters to Lili in Lichtenstein or sewing at her direction or even watching and critiquing awful "chick-flick" romance movies. But I didn't have a super connection to anything – or anyone for that matter.

But he did. Even if I had just met him, I could tell. And he was upset because he couldn't make that close connection to his music. With his arm broken, he only made it halfway and the calming sensations of pouring your heart into something clearly weren't working. I didn't normally do anything to help others with their personal problems, but this was something I could understand at a basic level, something I wanted to help with.

And a solution was easy enough. If it worked. If it didn't, I would just look like a foppish fool to him – or whatever his type called an uneducated idiot – but at least I would have tried. Maybe I could make him smile.

So without another moment of hesitation, I sat down on the piano bench next to him, feeling his leg through the fabrics of our clothes. I felt more than saw his gaze. Forcing down the nerves, I grinned and set my own hands to the piano keys. There was one song I knew that could help. One duet I could put on. Most every pianist I knew at least knew the basics beyond "Heart and Soul," so this should be helpful, right?

"I know what you can play," I said as I started up the catchy, repetitive baseline. "You seem well educated in the classical style, but how good is your improv?"

I stole a glance to him. He pushed his glasses up his nose with his free hand and seemed to be debating. A twitch in his eyes showed that he recognized the tune, at the very least, and with a long sigh he gave in to the call of the music. I knew it would have to work on some level. No musician I had ever met would turn down the chance to jump into a duet, unless they were putting on airs and trying to appear more refined. But this was just us, two strangers. And he needed the music. So what else was there for him to do but start the improvised melody line?

Our version of "Heart and Soul" was a little lopsided. I wasn't professionally trained or anything, and he definitely had a hard time loosening up to the more jazzy feel, having no doubt been trained on the non-improvising type. But whatever mess we created was fun. At least to me, and I did manage to coax a smile from the otherwise unhappy handsome piano player. After several rounds of different melodies in which we crashed because we both took it too far and started to laugh because not only did we change keys but we started adding way too many flurries of extra notes – okay, maybe that was all me – but we did fall apart, laughter filling the small room. Mostly my laughter, but all the same, I was glad to have been some help.

"That was," he said into the brightened room. "More than I expected."

I snorted. "You could at least say fun." He shrugged but offered no other response, so I held out my hand. "I'm Elizaveta."

Don't call me Lizzy. Only Gilbert has managed to pull that off, and I won't stand it from anyone else. Even the new heart throb piano player.

"Roderich," he said in answer, shaking my hand with his free one. "That was rather unexpected but nonetheless I have to admit it was very uplifting."

I smiled. "You're welcome."

Finally, I might have a friend. Someone besides the annoying asshole albino. Who would have thought I'd be able to bond over music? I hadn't touched piano in years and still it helped me in a somewhat dire situation. Being a bright light for a stranger. Lili had always said I could do it best if I stopped getting so angry at the small things all the time. Maybe she was right. Maybe I could be friends with someone else, even if they were a guy.

One long look at Roderich and I hummed to myself.

Maybe more than friends, if I wanted to be really hopeful.

~!~

A/N: Told you I was starting to like AusHun more. I guess what I really enjoy is the relationship between all three of them. That's what the whole high school drama is focused on, after all. Sure, there's a musical aspect. There's the drug-dealer aspect that Gil has to deal with. There's the new kid at school syndrome and the terribly lucky or unlucky aspect of social standing in school. But more than anything I hope to show this interesting dynamic between a girl and two guys. In younger years, it's cool and normal to have guy friends, but once you hit high school the romantic aspect starts to do things to your friends and, well, maybe I'll throw in some of my own experiences if they fit. We'll see.

I love feedback of any kind, and of course I appreciate all reviews/alerts/favorites; I love hearing what you think!

~Reda