Ten.

I look at the clock in the bottom corner of my computer screen, 4:00. I check again, 4:15. Again, 4:30. Again, 4:45. Once again can't hurt, 4:50. Fuck, 4:52. Shit, 4:55. 4:58. 4:59. 5:00. Yes! I close my laptop, and put my stuff away. I watch out the glass door for Feliciana, and as I wait, I slowly become nervous. I watch her walk up to the door; she's wearing a red dress that goes to her mid-thigh with a black cardigan. She opens the door and looks straight at the desk, where I'm still sitting on my stool like an idiot. I blush a bit, or a lot.

"You look...amazing!" I compliment. She blushes.

"I'm glad you think so; Lovina said you wouldn't like it." She looks at the ground. "So where are we going?"

"It's fun not to know, ja?" I grab my messenger bag and thermos.

"Are we walking?" She grabs my hand.

"Nein, I have a car." We walk towards my car with hands intertwined. I open the door for her and close it when she is in the passenger seat. I walk around the car and get in the driver's seat after putting my messenger bag in the trunk.

"So where to?" She asks while clicking her seat-belt.

"It's a surprise." I start the car and try to visualize the directions to the restaurant.

"Tell me about yourself."

"What is there to know? I work at a bookstore, attend college every night, and have an awkward Bruder."

"Where did you grow up?"

"Berlin. You?"

"Florence. When did you come to America?"

"Two years ago. I wanted to finish up my first two years of college over there. My family came here about five years ago. When did you come here?"

"When I was five. Where do your parents live now?"

"Somewhere in Georgia."

"That's far away."

"It's fine; they left because of Bruder's attitude, mostly."

"I'm sorry."

"What for? It's not your fault. Ha-ha." I turn onto Broadway, eyes scanning for the restaurant.

"Broadway? Dinner and a show?" She inquires.

"Nein, just dinner. I didn't know if you were a Broadway person ha-ha." Stop laughing, stupid.

"I've never been to a Broadway show." She admits.

"Neither have I..." I pull past the restaurant to find a parking spot. Luck is in my favor today. I park the car and get out to open the passenger side door. I offer her a hand when getting out of the car. After I close her door and lock the car, I guide her to the restaurant. She looks at me in disbelief.

"Carmine's?" I can't tell if this is good or bad surprise.

"Ja." I smile nervously.

"I haven't been here in years!" She hugs me.

"I've never been here." We walk through the door, and it's dimly lit and kind of gives me a headache. She's happy though, and I want her to be happy. We talk and order food: manicotti for her, chicken parmigiana for me. She's an interesting person, more so than I am. I think I understand why Bruder would be so crazy about Elizaveta. Some people just make you feel great. To my disappointment our time is almost up. Dinner is over and done with, and the dessert is slowly disappearing as well. The bill is set in front of my face. Ninety dollars. Well, I never spend money, so this is no big deal. Besides, I enjoyed myself, so why not?

– –

I drop Feliciana off at her house. Well, I was going to, but I ended up walking her to her door and going into her house, where I was once again harassed by Lovina about wearing a tie and a button up shirt with a blazer. I would love to argue, but I don't have the time. Lovina also seems caught up in Antonio which is awkward... I kiss Feliciana goodbye and get a shoe thrown at my head. Thankfully it misses, as I walk out the door. I sit in my car; it's 7:15. I can't seem to make it on time to Dr. Swartz's lectures lately. I pull into the parking lot at 7:25. I get to class at 7:30. That's not as bad I thought it would be.

"Hello class." Dr. Swartz greets as he walks in. "On Monday we discussed the big five, today we're going over Maslow's hierarchy of needs, so it begins with Abraham Maslow, a psychologist who introduced the hierarchy in 1943 in a paper titled 'A Theory of Human Motivation.' This hierarchy suggests that people are motivated to fulfill basic needs before moving on to other, more advanced needs. This hierarchy is most often displayed as a pyramid. The lowest levels of the pyramid are made up of the most basic needs, while the more complex needs are located at the top of the pyramid. Needs at the bottom of the pyramid are basic physical requirements including the need for food, water, sleep, and warmth. Once these lower-level needs have been met, people can move on to the next level of needs, which are for safety and security. As people progress up the pyramid, needs become increasingly psychological and social. Soon, the need for love, friendship, and intimacy become important. Further up the pyramid, the need for personal esteem and feelings of accomplishment take priority. Maslow emphasized the importance of self-actualization, which is a process of growing and developing as a person in order to achieve individual potential." I can feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. It's probably a telemarketer. "Maslow believed that these needs are similar to instincts and play a major role in motivating behavior. Physiological, security, social, and esteem needs are deficiency needs (also known as 'D-needs'), meaning that these needs arise due to deprivation. Satisfying these lower-level needs is important in order to avoid unpleasant feelings or consequences. Maslow termed the highest-level of the pyramid as growth needs (also known as being needs or 'B-needs'). Growth needs do not stem from a lack of something, but rather from a desire to grow as a person." My phone is still pulsing for attention; I check it, 'Gilbert Weillschmidt.' I pick up the phone.

"What is it? I'm in class, you know!" I hiss into the phone.

"Come home and pack. We have to go to Georgia tomorrow." He demands.

"Nein, why the hell would I do that? I'm in class."

"That bitch wants us to."

"Why?"

"You should just come home."

"Nein, what is it?"

"Vati's dead." I drop the phone, press my thumb and index finger to my temple, and pick the phone off the floor slowly. "Ja, so come home and get packing."

I don't know what came over me, but one second I'm in class. The next, I'm running to my car with my laptop in hand and messenger bag flailing behind me. I can feel my heartbeat in my head and want to throw up. I can't get the will to start the car. I'm furious, and I don't know why. I'm upset, but that's to be expected. I take a deep breath and turn the key. My hands and feet operate the car and guide me home, but my head is worthless. It's filled with a storm of confusion and frustration but not sadness. I pull into the garage and walk into the house. Bruder was waiting. I grab his collar.

"It's not true." I don't want it to be.

"Ja, it is." His eyes are wells of new found sadness.

"So Georgia?" I ask.

"Ja, sixteen hours down south."

"For how long?"

"She said a week and a half."

"But I have the store and school." I try to reason my way out of this.

"She sent an email to your professors and said to hire another employee. The point is you're not getting out of doing this. We're leaving tomorrow morning." Great, I get to spend at least sixteen hours with you and only you.

A/N: Sixteen hours of only Gilbert? I'm pretty sure things are going to get complicated soon. Please Review.

~FromPrussiaWithLove.