I Dreamed of Angels
Part Four D
Trowa straightened out his uniform and ran
his fingers through his hair before gathering his things and leaning back in
the comfortable seat of his father's car. It was another Monday and although
most students would loathe the beginning of another week, Trowa usually looked
forward to them. Where else would he be able to meet with Quatre under normal
circumstances?
"You know what time to pick me up. Don't be
late." he warned the chauffeur as he exited the car.
Before he closed the door, he stuck his
head back in and decided that he felt good enough to give the trembling man a
little warning.
"Oh, by the way," he said "I think I left
my snake in here last night and he's probably hungry by now. So, if you see
him," He paused and retrieved a box from inside his bag. "Give him this."
He tossed the contents of the box and
closed the car door.
With a satisfied smirk, he made his way to
the entrance of the school and ignored the crowd of people that began to gather
around the vehicle he had just vacated.
"I hope my baby enjoys his breakfast." he
said as the front doors of the building swung shut.
Outside, sounds of excitement, fear, and
curiosity filled the air. The crowd of people that gathered around the car
watched curiously as a large snake devoured a helpless and terrified mouse
while the equally terrified chauffeur tried to open the stubborn car door. His
screams did nothing but cause the density of the crowd to thicken. Now, he was
nothing more than part of an interesting spectacle.
Meanwhile, Trowa was busy decoding the
combination to his locker. Two more turns gave him access to the contents of
the inside. He gathered his books and placed them inside his bag and noticed
that there was a note addressed to him, almost unnoticeable, in the far corner.
It looked like it was slipped in through one of the slots. He opened it and
read the message within.
"Lunch time by the gymnasium." it said.
Trowa refolded the note and placed it
inside his bag then closed the locker door, intent on getting to class early.
Oblivious to him was the crowd of admirers
waiting for him to pass by. When he did, suppressed giggles could be heard
filling the already rambunctious hall with even more loud noise.
"Hi, Trowa" some of the more reserved ones
greeted while a more aggressive one came forward.
"So, Trowa," she said "I hear you've got
this problem with Quatre. So, umm, change of subject. Would you like me to help
you with your math?"
Trowa turned to the owner of the voice and
kept his face blank, trying to convey the fact that she was boring him.
"I already have a tutor." was his stale and
toneless answer.
"What? But I though you can't go near
Quatre?"
She went on and on, causing Trowa's face to
transform from one of boredom to that of nuisance. He felt the urge to move on
but decided that he might as well have some fun.
'Kiss the girl' was no longer an option
since it had been proven to make the ladies wail in delight rather than shut
up. It was a shame that those childhood techniques were no longer useful.
"Then I'll go for the second alternative."
he said.
"What did you say, Trowa?"
"Oh, nothing. I was just wondering what
that red spot on your face was."
"Excuse me."
She blushed and almost fainted as she
rushed to the ladies' restroom with friends in tow.
"I guess I've still got it." Trowa said and
adjusted his clothes again, continuing on to his first class.
Quatre would surely be inside since he was
never late for class. Trowa smiled at the thought of Quatre. For the hundredth
time that day, he thanked his lucky stars that his father was wealthy enough to
pay for Quatre's education as well.
Living in a small town with only one school
was hard for those without the resources to pay for such a renowned
institution. Trowa always thought it strange that the townspeople never decided
to build a more affordable if not free means of education. True, it was strange
but Trowa always presumed that it was due to fate.
He came just in time because there was still
an empty seat next to Quatre. Even better was the realization that the boy's
three other friends were in different classes. It really paid off to be rich.
Those school officials could so easily be manipulated.
Trowa put his bag down beside his chosen
seat and was about to greet Quatre when the teacher called the boy up front.
After a short discussion with the teacher,
Quatre sighed and proceeded to his seat to gather his belongings. It hadn't
been a good day for him so far. Somehow, he knew that it would get worse as the
day wore on. Having faced the wrath of the very disappointed Ms. Noin on an
early Monday morning was a bad enough sign.
Before he walked through the door, however,
someone took a hold of his hand.
"Where are you going?" Trowa asked.
"He's going to be placed in a different
room, Mr. Barton. You are not to come anywhere near him, understand? You may
leave the room now, Mr. Winner."
Trowa was furious at the turn of events but
chose not to display his dismay and inner rage while Quatre was around. He
deemed it improper but deliciously satisfying. It was tempting but against
Quatre's wishes. So, he crossed his arms instead and fought the inclination to
go on a heated debate with the teacher. Although he was distracted, his eyes never
left the retreating figure.
"I'm sorry." Quatre whispered as he passed
by him.
Trowa could only stare as they again took
his angel away from him.
The rest of the day followed like so with
Quatre being kicked out of every class to be put somewhere else, preferably as
far away from Trowa as possible. It was neither just nor amusing and it did
nothing but infuriate Trowa further.
The bell rang again as the very angry boy
picked up his bag and headed out the door. His dangerous expression changed briefly
as he saw Quatre pass by. He couldn't do anything but feel pity. Quatre was
obviously given quite the workout, running around all over the school with one
school official literally interpreting the three hundred feet distance and
actually using a metric tape to measure their separation. Everyone was just
making such a big deal about the situation.
This time, Trowa cursed his wealth for
Quatre's condition. Since everyone paid their respects to the Barton family,
they thought it proper to move Quatre around instead of him. His convenience
was always their concern.
Unknown to them, this convenience did not
appease him. All Trowa wanted at that moment was to have Quatre sit in place
while they dragged him around instead. After all, the restraining order was
meant to keep him away from Quatre and not the other way around.
He continued to watch in sorrow as the one
he wanted to spend the day with climbed another flight of stairs, occasionally
stopping to catch his breath.
"They're going to pay for doing that to my
angel." Trowa said as devious, unholy schemes entered his head.
While Trowa was busy planning his revenge,
Quatre was frowning at the half-filled paper in front of him. Having been late
for every single class, he had to skip lunch to finish an essay he was supposed
to complete.
"So much for that note." he murmured.
"Did you say anything, Quatre?"
"No, ma'am."
"Ok, you have ten minutes to finish that."
He nodded and scribbled down a few more
words with his stomach rumbling and growling in protest. It pleaded with him
for that chocolate ice cream he longed for but could not produce. It was
unfortunate that the teacher ignored his loud but unvoiced demands and
continued to read the papers on her desk. He was sure that the words 'chocolate
ice cream' would appear somewhere around his scholarly work.
He was so frustrated when he walked back
home. It was certainly not one of his finer days. Not only was he hauled from
place to place and punished for sneaking out at night, he was also deprived of
the one person he wanted to spend his day with.
He plopped down on his bed, his sore body
protesting the contact and noticed an icebox by his window. It didn't look like
it was anything special. The faint pink exterior did nothing to enhance its
appearance and yet it was very odd and enticing.
He forced his body to move accordingly,
walked to the object and sat beside it with his back to the wall.
He opened the box and was surprised to find
that the simplicity of the exterior served only to enhance the elegance of the
interior.
Within the box were a few objects of fine
taste. In it was a golden spoon with a ribbon tied around it, a crystal goblet
of exquisite craftsmanship, a simple tape recorder, a note written on fancy,
gold trimmed paper and his favorite - chocolate ice cream.
His stomach couldn't wait any further as he
took the spoon and used it to place some of the ice cream on the goblet and
filled his mouth with the soft, creamy taste of the finest chocolate ice cream
he had ever tasted.
After indulging in a few spoonfuls, he
picked up the almost forgotten note.
"Listen to the tape recorder." it said.
Quatre complied and pressed the play
button.
"Hi Angel." said the familiar voice of
Trowa.
"It's Quatre." he responded as he continued
to let the cold treat glide around his tongue.
"Like my gift? I knew you would! Anyway,
since I haven't been with you all day, I decided to tell you everything that
happened instead. You'll be glad to find out that there are two less faculty members
in our school. Hmph! Those idiots should never anger Trowa Barton lest they
want to dig their own graves."
The voice continued on and on as Quatre ate
halfway though his favorite treat. He would occasionally laugh and answer back
despite being aware of the fact that he was practically talking to the machine.
Trowa always found the most peculiar ways to amuse him even at the worst times.
Quatre realized that although Trowa was a troublemaker, he sure had a kind
heart. No one else had thought of his well being that day.
Then, as Trowa's narration came to an end,
his voice suddenly shifted to a more serious tone, one that spoke of weariness
and longing.
"Happy Valentines Day, Angel." he said. "I
miss you."
"I miss you too." Quatre answered back as
the play button popped up, signaling the end of the tape.