Romefeller High
by IrylThough there are many comings and goings at Romefeller High, with many
intriguing figures and fascinating happenings, this narrative will focus on a
select group of students – students that should never be forgotten, for their
lives are, though private, more important than anyone might realize. This is the
story of thirteen teenagers, in a tumultuous period of life. The reason for this
narrative is an enigma. One that the reader may find, but one that needs not be
figured out or decoded. It is a feeling, a sweetness, a pain; it is being young.
His mind wandered off as he looked out of the window by the main entrance,
into the barren parking lot, covered in the blue-grey light of almost dawn.
After a moment, the click-clack of heels approached softly from behind but he
didn't turn until she spoke.
"Principal Kushrenada, sir, students will start arriving soon." The tall
brown-haired man glanced over his shoulder to a lovely amber-eyed woman, her
face feminine and gentle. Her twilight dress suit was professional, but with a
touch of delicacy that sated his gentle palate.
"Lady," he turned to face her completely and smiled lightly at her sudden
blush. "You should wear that suit more often. It suits you." As if compelled, he
brought up one hand to brush some hair from her cheek, leaving it there for a
long moment.
The hue in the woman's cheek deepened as she looked up into his eyes. "Sir,"
she stammered in a whisper, "someone is here."
He paused another moment before taking his hand down with a sigh and turning
to greet the first student of the year.
"Morning Dorothy," a voice like the calm sea winds greeted her as she
settled her books on the desk.
She half-turned her head and responded civilly, nodding, "Trowa."
The boy behind her merely shrugged and turned back to the new kid. "That's
Dorothy, she's the student body vice president since ninth grade. Relena
Peacecraft is president." He shrugged. "They're both okay."
"Ah," the new boy commented, then reached far forward over his desk and
tapped Dorothy on the shoulder. When she turned around, he stuck out a hand and
smiled. "Hi! I'm Quatre. I just moved here."
Dorothy looked at the hand as if it were some sort of foreign bug but took
it after a moment. "Dorothy Catalonia." Her blue eyes were discerning and
guarded, and she watched him a moment more before turning away.
"Nice to meet you, Miss Dorothy," Quatre told her, but she did not turn back
or reply. He studied the blonde hair in front of them thoughtfully, then smiled
back at Trowa, whose green eyes were impassive. "Nice girl."
Blue eyes. The rider's eyes were dark blue.
The student body president shook her head to clear it and whirled around,
determined to make it to class before the bell could ring.
"Ow!" he heard as he entered the main office.
The young man was greeted with the interesting sight of Lucrezia Noin half
in and half out of the office trash can. Staring for a moment, he burst out
laughing.
"Shut up," she growled, her voice echoing in the can, "and help me out of
here!"
Pausing a moment more to admire the view up her skirt, he helped her out.
"What were you doing?" he laughed, but made it into a cough as she glared at
him.
"I dropped my earring in the garbage can," she told him. Curious, he got up
and peered into the trash can, only to reach in one hand and lift out a small
golden hoop.
"This it?"
"Yeah!" her eyes lit up and she took it from him. Since there were only
papers in the can, she snapped it right back on, giving the young man's
shoulders a squeeze. "Thanks Millie."
"Sure," he kissed the top of her head lightly and she blushed a little,
moving back behind the desk and focusing on the papers he carried.
"Got something there?" she asked, and they proceeded to go through business.
"You take back that insult!" the girl challenged. She was a wiry
creature, balanced even with the smooth curves of her form, indicating that she
had not bloomed over night, her right hand behind her, hanging on to the coveted
hair tie. Since it was gym class, she wore a thin, white, long-sleeved cotton
shirt, complete with collar. Despite the practicality shown in the clothing of
her upper body, her bottom half, as was every girls,' was clad in thick black
underpants (or so they looked), with white socks and tennis shoes.
No one knew her from previous years, since she had just transferred from
their rival school, but she knew better than to believe in any warm welcome,
since their schools had an instinctive and eternal hate for one another and she
was ever-loyal to her old school, Sanc High.
"Women are weaker," he replied, and the girl's fury got the best of
her. She ran toward him and sent a high kick at his head, but just missed as he
ducked and grabbed her foot, twisting it so that she had to turn and fall on the
ground.
She called him a bad name and snapped the hair tie, throwing the broken band
at him as the PE teacher, Coach Slide, came running over to them. "Wufei Chang,
let go of that girl!" He complied, unwillingly, and stalked over to the
bleachers as the coach checked her.
"Here," a slim white hand moved in front of his face, and Wufei took the
proffered hair tie. He looked beside him at the senior who was undoing her
cinnamon blonde braids and putting them up in a ponytail.
"Thanks Sally," he murmured, more appreciative than his tone let on. He
hated having his hair in his face.
"Mm," she answered, watching the Chinese girl get up and stalk off, sending
a venomous glare in their direction. "You really want to thank me, Wufei?"
His eyes narrowed. He wasn't sure that he liked the way this was going.
"Do me a favor and put up with her. You don't have to like her or get along
with her, but don't fight anymore, okay?"
He looked at her oddly, then shrugged. "Maybe," not promising anything.
Three pages of notes on the first day. This was going to be a tough
class.
The girl stood, knocking her newly acquired book onto one of the other
students passing her.
"Ow," he said, and the girl grimaced, bending to grab the American History
textbook at the same time he did.
Bang.
"Ow," she replied, rubbing her head. Glancing up to apologize, she met
laughing violet eyes.
"Sorry," he told her, rubbing his head, and handed her the book.
"S'okay," she told him, regaining her speaking faculties, and watched as he
walked out of the room, glancing back at her once, and noticed that he had a
very long brown braid. Wonder why I've never seen him before, she
thought, then grabbed her things and hurried to her next class, PE.
"Yes, my name's Quatre," he reached out a hand and she grasped it firmly,
before releasing and nodding at him.
"Nice to meetya! If you ever need help with anything, just ask," she
grinned, flashed the victory sign, and trotted back over to the girls' side of
the gym as Coach Slide glared at her.
"Oi, kill me, man,"a braided head fell on the bleacher beside Quatre and
turned two violet eyes up pitifully. "I think I embarrassed myself in front of
that girl over there in first period. I've been trying like crazy to get her to
look at me, but she hasn't spared so much as a glance the whole time!"
"Dorothy!" a high-pitched shriek tore through the gym and everyone
turned to see a glaring Hilde rubbing her head as Ms. Catalonia laughed. The
evidence: an innocent-looking white volleyball rolling away from the scene of
the crime.
Hilde suggested Dorothy do something very inappropriate to herself, then
stalked, grumbling, over to the bleachers where the student body president was
sitting.
"You're going to have a concussion, Hilde," Relena smirked, leaning back.
"That's better than what Dorothy'll have if she hits me with the ball
again," Hilde muttered, glaring at the back of the tall blonde as she spiked a
volleyball into Trowa Barton's face. He blinked, then shook it off.
"Trowa's so calm," Relena noted with a sigh.
"And cute," Hilde grinned, nudging her friend. They both knew Relena had the
biggest crush on Trowa since ninth grade when he had moved there.
"So're the new guys," Relena glanced over to the blonde and brunette talking
and laughing on the other side of the bleachers. "I noticed you've greeted one
already."
Hilde grimaced. "Both. The one with the braid is in my first class and I
dropped a book on him."
"Ouch."
"Yeah. I've been trying to avoid him all class." She glanced over at them
again, only to flush and turn away when she saw they were looking at her. "Oi!"
Hilde whispered, "Relena! They're looking this way!"
Relena snorted. "So?"
"So . . ." Hilde started to counter, frowning, but was interrupted by the
coach's whistle.
"You, boy! Why aren't you dressed out?!" Coach Slide was a stout man,
broad-shouldered and aggressive, with a loud, booming voice, which wasn't always
good for those standing beside him.
Hilde and Relena turned to look at the scene, falling completely quiet so
that they could hear.
"It's only the first day," the boy replied softly, but Hilde and Relena were
close enough to hear it all. "It makes no sense."
The coach turned an interesting shade of red. "Get in that locker room and
change out!"
The boy had been leaning against the wall, his head bent and eyes cast down,
so that when he looked up from under that shaggy head of hair at the coach, most
of the girls stared – and Relena caught her breath.
By God, he is gorgeous.
Imperturbable blue eyes, blue as the ocean skimming past glaciers, fixed on
the coach and made him squirm. "No." It was not said defiantly or with any real
emotion at all. It was only the stating of a simple fact that the boy knew and
the coach did not.
The coach gaped, disbelieving, and his face turned another interesting shade
of red. "What?" he looked at the boy as if he hadn't heard right. "What did you
say to me?"
"I said no," the boy told him in all seriousness. "They have mechanisms to
help with hearing loss."
The coach's face purpled and he straightened. "What's your name, boy?"
"Heero Yuy," the words were bitten off with simple precision, and Relena,
looking at the boy, felt herself falling . . .
"Yo! Relena, you okay girl?" Hilde was shaking her, but Hilde did not see
the fathomless beauty in his gaze, the ageless melody in his voice, the lazy
grace of his movements as he followed the coach to the office . . .
He glanced at her. Simple, quick, efficient. One glance that took in all of
her – the honey-brown of her hair, the clear blue of her eyes, the slight
parting of her lips, the ivory skin clad in dark grey and white, her arms her
hands her feet her nose her ears her arms her legs the white socks she wore in
black loafers and the slim ankles clad in them.
And Relena Peacecraft lost everything to him. Those blue eyes were burnt
into her as the darkness fell like a sheet over the dead.
"That's what I'd like to know." Relena looked up into smiling blue eyes and
let out a small smirk.
"Hi Sally," she murmured. "Nurse's aide this period?"
"Yeah," the cinnamon-blonde replied, and Relena looked at her oddly. "What?"
"Your hair's different."
Sally laughed and touched the ponytail self-consciously. "Oh, I gave one of
my ties to Wufei because his broke."
Relena play-slapped her on the shoulder. "You silly! We could have seen Mr.
Sexy-Chinese-Man with his hair down! Huge yearbook picture opportunity!"
Sally laughed again. "Poor thing's brain probably would have popped before
the day was out, without that protective shell to cover it."
Relena grinned, then held her head as a wave of red and black spots
disoriented her, and moaned, "Kill me."
"I would, but it seems they frown on that here," a perfectly serious voice
said from the door. Relena opened her eyes and looked at the boy upside down,
taking in his wild dark brown hair and deep blue eyes.
"I was kidding," she whispered, trapped in his gaze.
He looked at her for a moment, silent, then replied, "So was I."
They looked at each other for a long time, her stretched out on the bench,
him leaning against the doorframe.
"Didn't I almost run over you this morning?" he frowned, his smooth pale
forehead wrinkling as he did.
"That was you?" her eyes grew wide. Yes, that was the same black jacket, she
realized.
"Hn," he grunted, then roused himself to speak to Sally. "Where's the
nurse?"
"Why?"
"There was a fight in the hall. Bloody. A teacher sent me."
"She stepped out." Sally was looking at him through veiled eyes, sizing him
up. It wasn't a particularly friendly look, but neither was it very
antagonistic. Only . . . discerning.
He blinked and they continued their stare-out. It was different, Relena
thought, than when he had been looking at her. There was something
dangerous in his gaze now that hadn't been there before.
"She's in Ms. Stabb's room – the fencing hall. Someone got injured there."
He nodded and left. That was it. No glance back, no comment or goodbye, just
left. Relena felt something dreadfully missing with that and realized that he
hadn't even asked if she was all right.
The girl gave her a black look. "Yeah. I'm from Sanc." Her voice was short
and clipped, and Catherine understood why. Romefeller'd never gotten along with
Sanc, but Catherine wasn't exactly the most gung-ho about their rivalries, so
she smiled back at the girl.
"That's nice. What other classes do you have?" The girl looked surprised,
but loosened up as they compared their schedules to find two other classes
together. After that, they got instructions on their dance class and were able
to sneak jokes to each other about the PE teacher. By the end of class, both
girls were doubled over in quiet laughter.
"Miss Bloom!" the teacher yelled and the auburn-haired girl's head shot up.
"Yes'm?"
"Do you have something to share with the class?" The teacher, Miss Twist,
was a tall gaunt woman with a shock of black hair tied in a knot on her neck.
"No'm," Catherine Bloom replied meekly.
Trowa Barton smirked behind the teacher's back and Catherine gave him a
dirty look when the woman turned away. Her step-brother was a pain in the a--
sometimes, but she liked him well enough, they got along. He had been in a
military school or something before his dad married her mom, and she had the
feeling he'd never really settled into his new life.
"Bloom, Barton," the teacher suddenly ordered, "show the new kids what this
class is about."
Catherine got up in one smooth motion, stepping up to Trowa as he moved from
against the wall to meet her, taking the pen he was chewing on and tossing it on
his book bag.
They did a few jazzy steps to the music the teacher played, complete with
twirls, twists, and dips, then stopped and paused, breath coming quickly, as the
others applauded.
"You two make a cute couple," Meiran noted quietly as Catherine sat back
down and Trowa resumed chewing on his pen by the wall.
Catherine grinned. "So do his dad and my mom." She gave Meiran a significant
grin and the other girl got the hint, blushing. "S'okay," she reassured, "most
people don't know we're related. We're too different."
Meiran giggled, but shut her mouth at a look from the teacher.
And he wasn't paying any attention.
Heero sighed. The girl next to him gave him a curious look. He ignored her
and narrowed his eyes at a poster with a kitten looking wet and annoyed. Of
course it was angry! They poured water on its head and took its picture. He
would have been ticked off too. He read the text over its head: "Control Your
Anger" and lifted one eyebrow gracefully. How did it know he was angry?
He brooded darkly to the doodle on his paper. The principal's daughter had
no right to tell her father that they had been intimate when he'd never even
been in a room alone with her! He barely even know her name for God's
sake! And he was expelled because of some stupid girl's crush?!
No, his mind offered bitterly. That was just the last straw.
Heero growled deep in his throat, his emotions getting the better of him,
but stopped as the teacher turned to stare at him. It was one of those
I-don't-know-what-you're-doing-but-you-bet-your-shorts-you'll-be-sorry-for-not-paying-attention
looks. He braced himself.
"Since you don't have to listen to my instructions, Mr. Yuy, why don't you
tell the class how to write a five-paragraph essay. In fact, why don't you
show them. It's due tomorrow, but you can work on it in lunch-detention
with me."
Smooth move, soldier, the bitter voice in his head whispered. He
frowned at it and realized the teacher was still looking at him.
"Of course, ma'am," he replied, and she turned away. He glanced down and
worked on his doodle some more. He had just barely made it into the honors
class, which was ironic because he had been head of his class at his last
school. He would have been in regular if he had waited one more day to take the
test to get in. His mind turned back to his problems and his Uncle J, whom his
mom sent him to live with to go to this new school. Creepy old man. Heero
remembered him from when he was a kid and had never liked him much then.
What a great new school. Small town, strange people with three-foot braids
who poked him in first hour, blonde girls that threw volleyballs at him, nurse's
aides that looked way too much like the old principal's daughter. . . .
His hand clenched and the pencil in his hand snapped with a loud crack. A few
heads turned.
"Are you okay?" the girl next to him asked.
Heero came to himself and sent her a swift, sharp glance. Girl. Girls were
trouble. Bothersome. Liars. Girls were bad.
"Mr. Yuy!" the teacher whirled, looking at the scene of Relena
staring at Heero, facing away from the teacher who was assessing them cooly.
When she spoke again her voice was deceptively soft. "Miss Peacecraft." Relena
whirled around, startled. "I know he's a good-looking boy, but please try to
limit your hormones to when you're not in my class."
"I'm sorry," she replied with a helpless, miserable blush.
But the teacher was in a bad mood and not done with her. "But since you're
more concerned with boys than listening to my instructions, you may join
him in detention today."
Relena stared, frozen. She had never gotten detention before in her life!
(That one for getting too many tardies didn't count.) She felt, under that cold
gaze, like she was going to cry. As the woman turned away, Relena looked at
Heero.
He wasn't looking at her. He was brooding at the poster on the wall, but
Relena looked to the tablet next to his elbow. On it was a fabulous caricature
of himself with the ears and tail of a kitten, wet and annoyed. Relena glanced
at him curiously before turning back to copying down her supplies list.
He walked up and glared down at the girl. "Great," he muttered. Feeling
Sally's glare, he cast the blonde a look, then rolled his eyes and turned around
– to find that all the seats were filled except for the one next to the Chinese
girl. Wufei gritted his teeth and took the seat.
The teacher was a medium-sized woman, thin with a ponytail of glossy brown
and eyes of sharp grey, intelligent and piercing. Ms. Smith.
"This class will be hard," the woman started in a prim, clipped voice, "so
don't expect to coast through. I give homework every night, and I expect you to
work." She turned and wrote a list of supplies on the board, everyone getting
out paper to copy it down. As the Chinese girl picked up her pen, it slipped
from her fingers and Wufei saw it roll under his seat. He smirked as she got
down on the floor to look for it, face red with embarrassment.
"Trouble, onna?" he whispered as she delved her hand under his desk. Her
eyes narrowed and she snatched her pen from under the desk, standing stiffly.
"Jerk," she whispered to him.
"Onna," he sneered softly back to her.
The girl just glared back at him, moving over to her desk.
"Is there something between you two we should know about?" Their attention
snapped to the front of the room where the teacher was leaning against the
chalkboard, watching them through narrowed eyes. She stood up and walked over to
them. "Care to share?" she asked.
"I dropped my pen," Meiran told her, blushing under the stares of her
classmates.
"And for that you had to have a conversation?"
"No'm."
"Lunch detention," the teacher sighed. "Both of you."
Meiran shot Wufei a dirty look before turning back to her notes.
As he walked in, he nodded to the teacher and took a seat by the girl
already there.
"What's wrong with you, Mr. Yuy?" the teacher asked irritably, eyes
narrowing behind her wire glasses.
"Hn," he replied and went to work on his essay. After he had gotten out his
paper, a Chinese boy walked in, scowling, followed by a Chinese girl. They sat
on opposite sides of the room and glared at each other intermittently.
"If you talk while I'm out, you're staying after school," the teacher told
them, turning and stepping out of the door with a bunch of papers in her hand,
closing it behind her.
Meiran was humming, sneaking glances at the handsome brooding boy in front.
She wondered absently who the girl was beside him when she noticed that the girl
was shaking slightly and swiping at her eyes. Frowning in concern, Meiran
listened and heard the quiet sniffles coming from the honey-haired girl. Hopping
up, she sneaked to the door and peaked out, then slid into the seat next to the
other girl.
"Hey, you okay?" she put a hand on the girl's arm, who turned and looked at
her with red eyes.
"Yeah," the girl sniffled.
"No you aren't. What's wrong?" Meiran demanded.
"Nothing," she insisted, swiping at her eyes again. When the slanted black
stare didn't waver, she sighed. "I've never gotten detention before."
Meiran smiled gently. "Don't worry. It gets easier." She winked, then saw
that her comment really didn't help. "Look, I'm used to getting on people's
nerves. I get detention all the time and I'm not dead yet." She gave another
comforting smile. "Hey, do you want to do something after school today?"
Relena thought about it, her distress forgotten. "Yeah, sure!" Hilde had to
babysit her brother right after school, so she was free.
Meiran smiled quirkily, "Know any good places?"
Relena laughed, just as the teacher came in. As the woman stopped and looked
at the two of them, her brow furrowing in a frown, Relena's eyes got big as
saucers.
Meiran stood up before the woman could speak. "I'm sorry ma'am, I started
talking to her and she was just being polite." She bowed low and the teacher's
cold grey eyes swept over them both.
"After-school. Both of you. Thirty minutes."
"But!" Meiran protested.
"Forty! And don't talk back next time!" Meiran's mouth opened again,
but she was cut off by a sharp movement. "Take. Your. Seat."
"Yes'm." Meiran gave Relena an apologetic look as she turned to walk back.
Sitting, she glanced up at the teacher, who had settled down with a book, and
caught the curious, somber side-glance the boy in front gave Relena.
"What?" she pulled back to look at Wufei, disconcerted at having been so
close to him.
He sat next to her. They were in art, grouped at tables, and the teacher
hadn't shown up yet. "It was nice of you to take the blame," he replied. "Most
people wouldn't."
Meiran snorted. "That old witch sure didn't appreciate it."
Wufei nodded, adjusting his backpack on the floor beside him. "But Relena
appreciated it, and she's a really great girl. Really nice, I mean. She used to
be one of my best friends in grade school." He shrugged when Meiran stared at
him. "So I appreciate what you tried to do for her."
Meiran looked down as silence settled over them. He was being almost –
pleasant. She decided she didn't mind this side of him. "Thank you," she told
him softly as the teacher walked in and class started. She didn't look but knew
when he sent her a sidelong glance.
"Sure."
The room was built curiously – the desks were set on an incline,
over-viewing a large, open space for practicing. On the other side of the room
was another incline and some desks. The teacher's desk was on the flat portion
of the floor, against the left wall, and the door to enter was on one of the
inclines, but with a set of shallow stairs built in front of it, going down.
"Catalonia. Cat," the young man whispered and threw the eraser back at her,
as if the whisper had not been enough to get her attention. "You hanging with
Relena after school?"
The girl turned back and frowned. "No, why?"
"She said she'd be staying after."
The girl frowned. "I don't know why. Hilde's busy, I know, and there are no
Council meetings till next week. . . ." She lifted a slender finger and pressed
it thoughtfully to her lips.
They frowned together. "Think she's seeing someone?" the young man brooded.
They looked at each other. Relena?!
"Nah," they said together.
Someone knocked on the door and the girl looked behind the young man as a
blonde boy entered hesitantly and smiled at the teacher.
"Sorry I'm late," he told her sheepishly. "I got lost."
"Name?" the teacher asked, opening her book and picking up a pen.
"Quatre Winner," he replied, and she checked something off, bracelets
jangling.
"Okay. Sit by the door next to Mr. Peacecraft." She gestured absently and
Quatre turned to slip into the chair beside Milliardo.
"Hi," Quatre smiled.
"You're in my first class, aren't you?" the girl asked, her cat-like blue
eyes narrowing.
"Yeah, Dorothy, right?" he asked. She nodded, noting that he had a
heart-wrenching smile. She sighed, pressing her lips together in a gesture of
annoyance. It wouldn't be long until the girls were talking about him all over
the school. She could just hear the swooning.
Dorothy wanted to gag.
"How come you're in the advanced fencing class?" Milliardo turned to Quatre
curiously.
"Oh, I used to take private fencing lessons. I'm a little rusty, but I
should pick it back up fast." He smiled again and Dorothy could have killed him.
She would so be hearing about that smile later, and it made her want to
strangle him now and spare her ears the bother.
"You have much money?" she asked, eyes narrowing as she suddenly caught on
to the "private lessons" part.
The boy blushed, becoming so adorable she almost hit him right there. "Well
. . . yes, actually. My father owns the Winner Software Corporation." He
scratched the back of his head and shrugged.
"Great," Dorothy rubbed her aching forehead. Not only cute, but a
multi-millionaire. Oh, wouldn't the girls in her class have a field day
with this one!
"What's wrong, Cat?" Milliardo asked, peering at her curiously. "You look a
little green."
"Nothing," she sighed and turned around, waiting for the teacher to organize
her things and start class. She noted that she had yet another class with
the dark-haired boy who had gotten in trouble in gym class. Hm.
Interesting. She wondered if he was a very good fencer.
Both girls grabbed their things and hurried out of there, grinning to each
other.
"Wanna get some pizza?" Relena burst out as they slammed their lockers and
shouldered their bags.
"Sure!" Meiran's dark eyes flashed bright.
They raced out of the school doors, dark skirts flying around their thin
legs and black shoes splashing through puddles on the sidewalk, muddying their
pristine white socks and widening their devilish grins.
Heero sighed in irritation as the violet-eyed boy inhaled yet another piece
of chicken-and-pineapple pizza. Heero was still picking at his first piece, his
head resting on one fist as he watched the other eat.
"Ou wan the latht pess?" Duo inquired, holding up the final slice.
Heero, looking at him blandly, shook his head. Once there was nothing left
of the pizza but some grease and sauce stains, Heero handed the braided boy a
napkin. "Wipe your mouth."
Duo smiled widely, now free of the tomato-y substance. "Thanks, man." His
bright, laughing eyes suddenly fixed on something coming through the door and he
waved widely. "Hey! Pig-tails!"
Heero glanced back and was surprised to see to laughing, slightly damp girls
coming over. He recognized one from detention, the other from most everything
else. The dark-haired girl, her long black locks bound into ponytails hanging
over each shoulder, hurried forward and threw her arms around the braided boy.
"Duo!" she pulled back, dark eyes gleaming, "I haven't seen you in forever! How
have you been!"
"Great, 'tails," he replied cheerily, tugging on her hair playfully. "You
girls want to sit with us?"
Meiran glanced at Relena, who shrugged and smiled her acquiescence. They sat
and ordered a small cheese pizza and some drinks.
"How do you know each other?" Relena sipped delicately at her Diet Coke.
"We used to live by each other," Duo smiled at Meiran, who smirked back. "I
moved away when we were, what, fifteen? Used to go to Sank with her, but haven't
seen each other since." His eyes swept her appreciatively. "You've grown." It
was true. He remembered her, small and active, eyes burning with fire and body
burning with energy. She had been little more than a girl then and, though she
had quite a step to go until womanhood, she had become quite the lovely young
lady. Her hair was longer, making it impossible for it to be drawn up into the
gravity-defying pigtails he remembered. Instead, it was gracefully pulled over
either shoulder and tied with white ribbons. She had gotten a little taller, so
that she was no longer the petite she had been; that loss of petiteness was
aided by growth in figure as well, as she was almost as curvaceous as the
renownedly luscious Sally Po, though school uniforms seemed built to hide all
feminine attributes, much to the dismay of males.
Meiran laughed, "So have you, Maxwell." She handed him another napkin. "And
still as much a pig as ever."
Heero sighed. He was frustrated just sitting there, doing nothing, and had
an inexplicable feeling of enclosure, as if the walls were pressing in around
him. He needed to get out and do something.
"Oh crap!" Relena Peacecraft dropped her forehead onto her palm with a loud
smack.
"What?" Meiran turned to her, startled.
Relena grimaced and stared at her watch. "I have to babysit the neighbor's
kids in ten minutes and I lent my car to Dorothy. I planned on riding home with
Millie, but the after-school hacked into my schedule and messed everything
up."
"We can drive you home," Duo told her, rising to the occasion. The pizza
place was right across from the school, where respective vehicles had been left.
Relena bit her lip. "It's a twenty-minute drive and I don't want to mess up
your reunion . . ." she hesitated.
Meiran smiled easily and was going to say something, but Heero cut in.
"I'll drive her," he said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
He stood, without giving chance for argument, and turned, a little impatient to
get out.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Relena," Meiran got out, and the fairer girl waved a
hurried but pleasant goodbye, grabbing a last slice of pizza, and tried to catch
up with her retreating savior. As they crossed the street to the school parking
lot, she devoured her pizza and was licking the sauce off her fingers when Heero
gave her an odd look.
"What?" she asked, puzzled, trying to keep pace with him.
He snorted and turned away again. "You eat like Maxwell," he said, a tinge
of humor coloring his voice.
She smiled. "At least he's nice," she didn't pay attention to his shrug of
acquiescence because they were at his bike.
His bike; his motorcycle; his two-wheel, need-a-helmet vehicle.
Relena gulped. She'd forgotten that he didn't have a car. It was rather
stupid of her, since he had almost run her down that morning. Maybe it was the
bump on her head in gym when she fainted, or the shock of her first detention,
or just the stress of the first day at school, but she had forgotten. Relena,
you idiot, her mind ranted at her. You should have accepted Duo's
offer.
Heero was fiddling with the helmet.
"Come here," he ordered absently, and she obeyed. He slipped the helmet over
her hair and settled it on her head, tightening the chin strap to fit her. He
was very close, but did not look at her face as he worked, only at what his
hands were doing. She, on the other hand, was breath-taken, being so near him,
his dark, passionate, analytical eyes just inches away. His finger brushed her
chin, but she knew it was by accident and no design of his own; it made her
wonder, though, what it would feel like if he did touch her, move one of his
hands so minimally to cup her cheek or trail the length of her throat.
Her fantasies died away as he moved away and swung himself onto the bike,
helping her on behind him. They were still in their school uniforms, she in her
dark grey and white pleated skirt and sailor shirt, and he in the dark grey –
almost black – suit the boys were made to wear. Even though their dress was less
than desirable for such a ride, it was still an exhilarating thought to be on a
motorcycle with this strange, heroic, moody boy.
"Wait!" Relena suddenly said as they were seated on the bike and he kicked
the stand up.
Heero turned his head to the side to hear her better. "What?" he was
irritable now.
"You don't have a helmet," she said, concerned.
Heero shrugged. "Only had one, since I didn't expect to be carrying anyone
with me. I'll be fine." He started the bike, drowning out any other objections
she might have tried to make, and shouted over it. "Let's see if we can get to
your neighbor's place in the seven minutes we have left!"
Relena's eyes grew wide, hearing the daredevilry in his tone, and clenched
her arms tight around his waist as they sped out. They didn't make it in seven
minutes – they made it in ten – but she wasn't fussed at for being three minutes
late; no, her mother had seen her flying into the driveway, returning Heero's
helmet, and racing to the neighbor's house.
Later that night, as Relena trudged sleepily home across the large,
perfectly landscaped yards, she caught sight of her brother waiting for her in
the driveway. He was just standing there, looking up at the stars.
"Hey Millie," Relena gave a wan smile, but her brother was solemn, looking
at her quizzically.
"Mom's ticked," he said, still seeming to be preoccupied with something.
"Why?" she asked, then slumped and groaned. "She didn't see . . ." at
Milliardo's nod, she whined, "No! It's just not fair," and stomped into
the house.
Milliardo watched her go, concern flashing briefly across his face. What
had she been doing after school with that guy? Determination steeled in
his eyes and he walked toward the front door, making plans to talk to Yuy before
school.
by Iryl
Day One
The halls of Romefeller High were quiet as the principal walked them, the
only sound the click of his polished black dress shoes as he admired the
sparkling windows and floors. He really should give the janitors a bonus this
Christmas. They'd done a lovely job getting ready for the school year. Maybe a
fruit basket . . .
~~*~~
The bustles of the crowd pressed in around the girl, but she swept
confidently through them, back straight and glorious fall of blonde hair
swinging with each step. Books fit snugly into the crook of one arm, she strode
into her first class and blew into her seat.
~~*~~
"Oh, God, I'm late, I am so late!" a girl with honey-brown
hair dashed out of her car, grabbing her school bag and running toward the
building in the dusty dawn dimness, the dark grey skirt of her uniform flying
around her legs. As she reached the part of the lot right before the school, she
noticed a sound coming toward her. Turning, she had just enough time to jump out
of the way as the motorcycle roared by, the driver swerving easily to avoid her
and sent her a single glance before continuing on to find a spot.
~~*~~
"Slow down, Relena!" a young man with platinum blonde hair ordered
as his little sister flashed him a smile and increased her speed. He was on his
way to run an errand for the English teacher before class started, and was happy
since his best friend Lucrezia was working as an office aide this period.
~~*~~
"Onna!" a Chinese boy screamed in PE as a Chinese girl glared at
him, her stance ready to fight. "Give that back!" Two pairs of slanted black
eyes met and sparked, the air between them charged with anger. It was fairly
obvious to those who knew the boy of what he was referring, for his hair hung
loosely around his head in a silky black sweep, a long crinkle across it to mark
where a band had been, instead of being pulled back into a severe ponytail.
~~*~~
A girl sighed in relief when the bell rang, signaling the end of
first period, tipping her dark head back and shaking her aching hand as if it
would send the pain of intense note-taking flying off like water droplets.
~~*~~
"Hey, you're new, huh?" Hilde strode up to a blonde boy with
incredible blue eyes. He glanced up from tying his tennis shoes and gave her the
sweetest, most sincere smile she had ever beheld, his eyes shimmering as the gym
lights reflected upon them.
~~*~~
Relena woke up in the school nurse's office. "What happened?" she
asked groggily.
~~*~~
A young woman with wavy auburn hair glanced beside her and nodded
to the new Chinese girl. "Your first year here?"
~~*~~
He was in English. The girl he had almost run over that morning sat
beside him. He was in the very back corner of the room.
~~*~~
Wufei groaned as he walked into English and saw the high-tempered
Chinese girl sitting and chatting with some of the seniors. Catherine Bloom,
Sally Po, Lucrezia Noin, the captains of the girls' dance, volleyball, and
basketball, respectively. He and the girl were juniors, but he was going to
graduate early (as was the annoying girl, obviously), so was taking two
Englishes. It worked, because this was regular and honors had been a year ahead
of regular.
~~*~~
Heero was scowling and damp when he went to detention. That idiot
with a braid from first hour had squirted him with the water fountain. What
Heero wanted to know was how someone could send water flying three feet to hit
the person walking by without it being intentional.
~~*~~
"What you did for that girl was nice." Meiran turned at the voice
next to her ear and blinked into calm, slanted dark eyes.
~~*~~
Meanwhile, in fencing class, a young man was tossing paper into a
blonde girl's hair, his own locks sliding smoothly over his shoulders, like
molten white silk. She finally noticed the tiny paper balls raining onto her
head and threw a chewed-up pencil eraser at him, scowling and finger-brushing
her long blonde hair to shake the paper out.
~~*~~
"Sit here, ladies, and no talking." Ms. Smith slipped into her desk
chair and watched as Relena and Meiran sat and pulled out their papers. They sat
silently, having passed through their last few classes without incident,
scribbling, doodling, the air-conditioner blasting cold chill-bumps onto their
arms. They sat there long, thinking about their own private matters, until the
small, prim Ms. Smith stood, observing the pair coolly, and told them they could
go.
~~*~~
He had been kidnaped. Shanghaied. Taken unwillingly by this, this,
this imbecile.