Lessons Well Learned


By Violet Ice

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"So, how did it go?"

Aoshi looked up from his physics notes, taking in the face of the boy before him. He rolled his eyes, causing an annoyed expression to cross Kamatari's face. "What? It was a simple enough question. All of us know you were tutoring her, so just tell me." He leaned over the desk, his face inches away from Aoshi's.

"Get away from me." The sullen boy grumbled. He hated having Kamatari hanging around him; the other boy was just too bizarre. Kamatari was so damn pretty, it made Aoshi want to barf. Dressed that day in a long, flowing skirt, turquoise top and a dark brown corduroy jacket, the boy not only looked like a girl, but like he'd gotten stuck somehow in a sixties time warp.

"Oh, come on. Is she really as bratty as she looks?" Kamatari twisted a short lock of hair around his finger as he regarded Aoshi, his brown eyes wide with curiosity.

"She's terrible." The other teen finally confessed, "Bad beyond your wildest dreams. She wouldn't stop bragging about how rich she is, yet she's incredibly stupid. She didn't know anything."

"Gee, musta been - Eep!" A squeal escaped the boy's mouth mid-sentence and he straightened up, a scandalized look on his face. "Miru!" He knew who the perpetrator was without even turning around. "How many times do I have to tell you not to-"

"Ah, don't tell me you don't like it…It was just a little slap on your ass." Miru grinned wickedly, toying with the silver hoop in his ear, "Any other time and you'd be begging for more."

Kamatari, for once, was speechless. He glared at Miru, his eyes narrowed down to slits. "Will you shut up already??" He hissed, "People are looking at us funny!"

"So what? Not like they don't know already…I mean, look at you, hot stuff, all decked out in that hippie get-up. Makes you mighty tempting. Especially since you were leaned over like that and-"

"Okay, okay! I get the idea. Now stop it!" Red-faced and flustered, Kamatari turned back to Aoshi, "Now gimme the dirt."

Aoshi stared at him for a moment, then looked at Miru. He was a dark-haired boy of seventeen, tough as nails, dark and angst-ridden. He wore his some-what wavy hair back in a loose ponytail, always looked like he needed a nap, and had an earring in his left ear. His wardrobe could be summed up in one word: black. He always looked drab, dreary and foreboding, no matter what. One would think he and Aoshi were alike until Miru opened his mouth. The first word out would indicate there was a world of difference between the two.

"What are you gossiping about now, you loud mouth?" Miru tugged playfully on Kamatari's hair, begging for some one to pay attention to him. He liked being in the spotlight, hence his loud, unconcerned attitude.

"Aoshi was trying to tell me about his tutoring session until you came along and disrupted it." Kamatari stuck out his tongue at Miru, his mouth curving upwards in a smile. It didn't matter how many times he reproved his friend; Miru would always be Miru and he would always butt into everything. But that was all part of why he liked him.

"Oh, spill it, ice boy." Miru crowded around the desk, just as curious as his companion, "I wanna know too!" He pushed Kamatari to the side, causing the pretty-boy to grumble slightly.

Aoshi shrugged. "There's not much to tell. She's a snob and she's not very smart." He looked back down at his notebook, indicating that the conversation was over and he would say no more.

"He ain't saying no more." Miru glanced at Kamatari, "So how about you give me some attention now?"

A smile flickered across Kamatari's face as his brown eyes met Miru's black ones. He took in the younger boy's pale face, that brazen smile, the self-assured expression. He brushed back a loose strand of hair from Miru's face. "Let's go look over your French work, make sure you did it right."

Aoshi watched over the rim of his glasses as they disappeared, then looked back down at his work. He had done it at home, of course, but was double-checking his answers. Miru and Kamatari were quite the pair; one dark and dreary, the other flashy and flirty. Sometimes the quiet young man wondered how intimate their relationship was, but he supposed it was better that some things go unknown.

Why had they been so curious about Misao? Any one could easily see exactly what she was like; there was no depth to a person like her. She was so shallow, so transparent. How could any one be concerned with some one like her who didn't give a shit about any one else? Why would they care? She was the most stupid person he had ever met.

But then…Maybe there was more to her than appeared on the surface. Maybe there was something under all that makeup and name-brand logos. She had challenged him a lot, opposing nearly everything he said. Maybe there was a brain rattling around in that head of hers. Maybe…Snorting to himself, he shook his head. She was as transparent as a piece of glass.

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"So, like, how did it go?"

Misao nearly spilled her bottle of nail polish. She glanced up sharply at Kaoru, who had asked the question. Her friend was looking at her curiously, her blue eyes lit with curiosity. "Come on; what happened? You wouldn't talk about it yesterday…"

"He's a jerk." Misao muttered, "He's a damn jerk." She stared at her thumbnail, willing the sparkly nail polish to dry faster.

"What'd he do?" Kaoru sank down into the seat next to Misao's, pulling her long, dark hair into a ponytail.

"He insulted me! He did nothing but insult me the whole time! I mean look at him and look at me and tell me who should be doing the insulting. He doesn't seem to know his place, that damned idiot. It was such a waste of my time. I didn't learn anything but how much he pisses me off."

"Sounds like a blast." Kaoru rolled her eyes. She and Misao were the best of friends and had been ever since Misao's mom got remarried and they moved into Kaoru's neighborhood. They stuck by one another through thick and thin. When Kaoru hated somebody, Misao hated them as well. When Misao was pissed about something, Kaoru was pissed as well.

"He was uppity with me and I didn't like it. He seemed to forget that I'm the one with money and that he's the one that's poor."

"What's he like, besides a jerk? Nobody knows anything about him…He looks so dangerous. You hear about all those people who, like, shoot up their school and he looks like one of those people, ya know."

"Well, I don't know any more than I already did. Why do you care? I hate him and you should too. But," Misao paused, "If you really want to know, ask Meibi. That disgusting brother of hers is always following him around and they do come from the same social circle."

"Like I would go anywhere near Meibi. She always looks so scruffy and gross. Look at her over their, in her torn jeans and her hand-me-down clothes. Retro is in style, but not when the clothes are things that have been passed down again and again. And why a Colt foRty-5* shirt? They haven't been popular in, like, 10 years. "

"I bet she can't afford to get anything new…"

"Let's ask 'er about Aoshi. I bet she'd know something." Kaoru exclaimed. "Hey, Meibi!"

"Yeah?" Meibi asked distractedly, not bothering to look up from her math homework, which she was hurriedly trying to finish before first period began.

"No! No; you can't associate her with us!" Misao shrieked, tugging on her friend's sleeve, "I will not have myself associated with the likes of her."

"Fine, whatever." Kaoru slid back into the seat without even telling the other girl to never mind and go back to her work.

Meibi's gaze dropped back down to her text book. It was times like those that she was glad her mass of bangs covered half her face so know one could see she was on the verge of tears. She hated the reputation that came from being related to Miru. She cursed her father for marrying Miru's mother. Cursed Miru's mother for having Miru. Cursed the world that let people brand her as a misfit because of Miru. Then she cursed herself for being so weak as to let them all affect her.

Kaoru glanced furtively over at Meibi, taking in her shock of dark hair with its brilliant pink streaks. She knew that Meibi and Miru were nothing alike and that Meibi was smarter than her step-brother and she felt sorry for the girl. But Misao didn't like her and Misao's word was law.

Meibi knew Kaoru was looking at her. She didn't really care either. Kaoru and Misao could just kiss her ass. Damned if they knew anything about her or anything she went through. So why bother caring what they thought?

Sometimes, it was hard not to.

Misao put the finishing touches on her nails, screwed the cap back on the bottle and leaned back in her chair. She admired her nails -flawless- then pulled a mirror out of her purse to make sure her make-up was okay.

Meibi stared at her hands, her fingers blurring as tears filled her eyes. What she wouldn't give to have one day go by without a snide comment about her family's financial status. What I wouldn't give to see some one embarrass her…That would teach her. A lesson she'd never forget…Evil thoughts filled her mind as she plotted the demise of the school's most fashionable student. She would never go through with any of her plans, of course, but dreaming was nice.

Her train of thought, however, was interrupted as the morning announcements began. Then the a silence fell over the whole classroom and nothing mattered any more but fractions and decimals and multiplying the two.

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*Colt foRty-5 was something I thought would be a good name for a band. I have a whole list of names for fictional bands at home, but that was the one I could remember off the top of my head. Well, that and Cheetah Dreams or Bags of Ice, but I thought Colt foRty-5 sounded the best in this situation.