Disclaimer: Card Captor Sakura and its characters are not mine. They belong to CLAMP. Please don't sue.
Warnings: Alternate Universe. SxS, ExT. No clow cards, card captors, or magic. The characters are also kinda OOC, and have different lifestyles.
Feedbacks: Yes, please! Any comments will be welcomed!
. .
Chapter Seven: Romeo and Juliet
"I can't believe it." Sakura wandered from the music room in a daze, while Rika and Tomoyo alternately thumped her on the back excitedly. Naoko and Chiharu caught up with them in the hallway, with the latter giving a loud scream when Sakura announced, "I'm in!"
"And that's not all," gushed Tomoyo. "Mr. Reed wants her to do a solo for the spring concert!"
"Wow!" shrieked Chiharu. "If they put you on TV, you'll be a star!"
"Wait until your father hears this," said Rika. "He'll forget all about the accident." She thumped Sakura's back one more time before rushing off to her next class, with Naoko and Chiharu behind her.
"I fell dizzy," Sakura said, clutching Tomoyo's arm.
"You're hyperventilating," Tomoyo assured her knowingly. "Nakuru gets that way all the time from blowing her nails to make them dry faster. Just calm down before you faint or something."
"I can't calm down!"
"Well, don't worry. If you faint I'll get Syaoran to give you mouth-to-mouth resuscitation."
"Now that's an idea." Sakura laughed as the bell sounded its summons.
Tomoyo lowered her voice to a whisper. "Have you told Syaoran the bad news about the dance yet?"
Instantly Sakura sobered, remembering her father's reaction two nights before, when she timidly broached the subject of the dance.
"Absolutely not!" he had bellowed. "And that's the last I want to hear of it."
Sakura took a deep breath and plunged ahead anyway. "Dad, if you're worried about Syaoran's driving, I've already worked it out with Tomoyo, and she said we can double with her and Eriol."
"Sounds like you've been doing quite a bit of planning without my go-ahead," he observed coolly. "Don't you think you should have asked me first before you worked it all out with Tomoyo?"
"But you would have said no!"
"Darn right. I won't have you running around with troublemakers. There are plenty of nice boys for you to go to the dance with."
"But Syaoran is nice," she protested, knowing it was useless to argue but still unable to stop herself. "Besides, no one else has asked me."
"And they're not going to if they see you mooning over Syaoran," he pronounced emphatically.
Sakura felt herself growing desperate. "If you could only talk to him—"
"I don't have to talk to him to know what he is. Just look at the statistics! One moving violation and one accident in less than a year of driving—without insurance, I might add. And he comes from a broken home with no father to provide guidance and a crazy mother in trousers who won't listen to reason." Fujitaka Kinomoto, insurance agent, was big on statistics.
Look who's talking! Sakura felt like yelling. As far as she was concerned, her father and Syaoran's mother were two of a kind. She might as well try to convince one of the carved heads on Mount Rushmore! Why did it always have to be that way between her and her father? Her mom had always been able to reason with him, she thought. Her mom had been wise, gentle, and had had a sense of humor that was always evident when she was keeping a straight face. Why couldn't she be more like her mother? Sakura agonized. Her dad respected her mom, so he had listened to her. He couldn't respect Sakura, because she thought of her as a baby. Sakura longed for a way to show him how mature, sensible, and grown-up she was.
Instead, she burst into tears. "I'll die if I can't go to the dance with Syaoran!" Sobbing, she ran down the hall to lock herself in the bathroom for what turned out to be the longest shower she had taken in years…
Sakura was annoyed with Tomoyo for having pricked her bubble. "You would have to bring that up. No, I haven't told Syaoran—and I'm not going to. The dance is still two weeks away."
"Yeah, maybe your dad will change his mind," Tomoyo suggested hopefully.
Sakura's frown deepened. "Sure, and maybe it'll snow by lunchtime."
"You never know." Peering into her locker, Tomoyo unearthed a pair of white gym socks. She held them aloft and grinned triumphantly. "See, I even have my mittens handy just in case!"
For some reason, that didn't surprise Sakura one bit.
. . .
Sakura had just settled into the seat Syaoran had saved for her when Mr. Reed began passing out mimeographed scores of the pieces they would be performing in the spring concert.
"As you can see," he said in his rich baritone, "we have our work cut out for the next few weeks. I'll be posting a list of rehearsal times on the bulletin board tomorrow, and I want every one of you"—his eyes swept the room imperiously—"to arrange your schedules accordingly. Understood?"
A ripple of assent swept the room.
"Some of you may have heard a rumor that the concert is to be televised," he continued. "Well…" he paused, smiling, while they all waited in suspense, barely breathing.
"Sadist!" muttered Gabe North, an attractive boy who sat behind Sakura. She recognized him as the president of the Humanities Club.
"I spoke with the people at KPUX this morning, and they told me…" another silence, accompanied by a smile.
"I can't stand it!" said Martha Beal. "What did they say?"
Mr. Reed cleared his throat. "It's on. They've scheduled a camera crew to be here on the twenty-ninth. What do you say? Think we'll be ready for them?"
A chorus of enthusiastic cries was their deafening response.
"Ok, then, let's go down to business. We'll be doing a mixture of classical and pop pieces. An Elizabethan madrigal right on up to 'Oh Happy Day!' The longest, trickiest piece will be Mendelssohn's Elijah. I want you to study it thoroughly before we start rehearsing on Tuesday. The library has the record—first come, first serve. Otherwise, we'll be listening to my tape next week…"
As he rattled on, Sakura was struck by the realization that the concert was less than four weeks away. Would she be ready then? She was a novice, and the rest of the group was used to learning difficult music quickly. Panic nibbled at her insides.
Syaoran must have noticed how edgy she looked for he murmured reassuringly, "Relax, Sakura, you'll do just fine. You'll be surprised how easy it is once you get into the swing of it."
She grimaced. "That's what my driver's ed instructor told me."
"I guess you can't win 'em all." He shrugged.
Sakura glanced up to find Mr. Reed glowering at them. "When you two get through chatting, do you think we could get some work done?" he asked.
"Sorry, Mr. Reed, I'm all yours," Syaoran replied unabashedly. As soon as the teacher wasn't looking, he gave Sakura a big wink.
Happiness flooded through her. She knew she would have to tell Syaoran about the dance sooner or later, but right now all she wanted to think about was how happy she was sitting next to him.
. . .
"What you need is a plan of action," counseled Tomoyo as they sat licking their ice cream cones at a tiny, glass-topped table in Baskin-Robbins, where they stopped on their way home from school.
Tomoyo was celebrating the fact that she had lost five pounds by indulging in a double-decker rocky road and Jamoca almond fudge. Sakura was consoling herself with rum pecan, because Syaoran has asked her to go to Baskin-Robbins with him first, and she'd had to turn him down. It was too close to her dad's office, and someone who knew him was bound to see them together. That was the trouble with small towns, she thought. Everybody knew everybody else, so if she and Syaoran started sneaking around behind their parent's backs, they would have about as much chance of not getting noticed as a police raid on the local health club.
"What kind of plan?" asked Sakura suspiciously.
"A way for you and Syaoran to go to the dance—what else?"
"Forget it. I've tried every trick know on Dad. He's not budging."
"Who said anything about budging?"
"If you're suggesting anything sneaky, you can forget that, too. I'd never get away with it."
Tomoyo sighed at Sakura's thickheadedness. "That's why you need a plan, silly."
"And I suppose you just happen to have one all figured out, right?"
"Naturally," Tomoyo caught the last melting drops of ice cream with an expert flick of her tongue. "Oh, don't you see, Sakura? It's really so romantic. Kind of like Romeo and Juliet."
"I hope that doesn't mean we have to end up killing ourselves," Sakura said, sighing.
Tomoyo giggled. "Nothing that drastic, I promise. Actually, I was thinking you could use a front."
"A what?"
"A front. You know, someone who pretends to be someone else. Like in that movie The Sting."
"You want me to sting my father?" Sakura asked incredulously.
"In a manner of speaking. What you could do is pretend someone else was taking you to the dance—for a small fee this person might even be willing to pick you up at your house."
"Ok, Tomoyo, who is he?" Sakura asked suspiciously.
"Eriol's little brother."
"You've got to be kidding! He's a freshman!"
"So? Your dad doesn't have to know about that."
"And he's only about four feet tall!"
Tomoyo was beginning to wilt. "Well—you could always say he has retarded glands."
Suddenly they were both doubled up over the table. Janet Green and Billy Sanchez, who were sitting beside them, looked over at them as if they were crazy.
"I guess I didn't really think it out," Tomoyo admitted when she finally regained her breath.
"If you mean the part about Eriol's little brother—you can say that again," Sakura agreed. "But the stuff about having a plan wasn't half bad. I'll have to think about it—maybe I can come up with something."
. . .
An hour after leaving Tomoyo, Sakura was sprawled on her bed engrossed in a Reader's Digest article entitled "Teen Survival in the Eighties" when the phone rang. It was Syaoran.
"Is the coast clear?" he asked. When she told him her father was still at work, he breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. I was hoping I wouldn't have to wear my Groucho Marx disguise when I come by to pick you up in a few minutes."
"Pick me up? What are you talking about? My dad would kill me."
"Look, Sakura, I know how you feel about doing stuff behind his back. Believe me, I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important. More important than me, that is," he added playfully.
"Syaoran, you are important." She was glad he couldn't see her redden.
"So are you, Sakura," he replied in a husky voice. "This whole thing is stupid. Why do we have to sneak around like a couple of criminals, anyway? It's not like we're doing anything wrong. Oh, forget it—it was a dumb idea for me to call." He sounded frustrated, and she was afraid he'd hang up.
"No, Syaoran, wait. Where—where did you want to go?"
"Just over to Harry Purcell's house—you know him, he's in the choir. Anyway, Harry's got a recording of Elijah—you really flip if you could hear it on the stereo system his dad got hooked up." He paused. "Besides all that, I want to be with you."
Sakura smiled softly, but worry creeped back. "What should I tell my dad?" she asked, chewing absently at her thumbnail. She really wanted to go, but she hated the thought of lying.
"Don't tell him anything. He's not there, so just leave him a note. Tell him the truth—only scratch the part about who you're going with."
"I—I guess I could," she agreed slowly, torn between lying and her longing to be with Syaoran.
"I'll pick you up in fifteen minutes—now that I've got insurance," he said.
. . .
When they arrived a short while later, they found Harry's living room crowded with kids from the choir. Sakura still felt a little awkward around the group, but that faded as she was greeted warmly by everyone there, and Gabe North moved over to make room for her on the couch. Harry brought them Cokes and passed around a bowl of potato chips.
Syaoran had been right about the stereo system. The sound coming out of the speakers was extremely strong and clear. The system itself was ultramodern, and the components—the speakers, turntable, and amplifier—were amazingly small. Harry's father, she learned, owned Good Vibes, Clinton's largest stereo-TV store, which gave him access to all the latest equipment. Sakura closed her eyes and let the music wash over her. The thought of singing it herself in TV gave her goose bumps.
When it was over, someone put on a Britney Spears album. A throbbing pop beat pulsed from the compact speakers, and before long the living room floor was jammed with gyrating couples. Syaoran grabbed Sakura's hand. "Come on," he yelled over the noise, "let's go somewhere quiet!"
He took her to Good Time's Charlie's, a place downtown where they could talk and wouldn't be too conspicuous. They chose a dark booth near the back, and Syaoran ordered cheeseburgers and fries for both of them. "Sorry you came?" he asked, his hand curling over hers on the tabletop.
Sakura smiled. "I was just thinking that I wish it could be like this all the time. I really had fun, Syaoran."
"You mean you don't feel guilty anymore?"
"Well—I didn't exactly say that. I just hope my father doesn't find out, that's all." She darted a glance over her shoulder as if she expected to see her father pop up from the next booth at any moment.
"Watch out—there are spies everywhere," Syaoran whispered in a Russian accent, hoping to sound sinister.
Her laughter died suddenly as she saw the well-dressed, middle-aged woman who slid into the adjoining booth. Sakura nearly choked on a french fry. "Oh my God—that's Mrs. Willet," she whispered. "She's my dad's secretary! What am I going to do?"
Syaoran lowered his voice. "Relax. She didn't see you, did she?"
She slumped down until her chin was almost level with the tabletop. Mrs. Willet had disappeared from the view except for a wave of silver cresting the top of the adjoining booth. They were safe right then—but not for long. In order to get to the door, they would have to walk right by her.
Sakura felt her excitement turn to a sour lump in the pit of her stomach. "I should've known something like this would happen," she said sadly.
"Don't panic," Syaoran said. "We haven't blown our cover yet." He motioned the waitress over and in his most charming desperate whisper asked, "Is there another way out of here?"
The girl, who wasn't much older than they, looked both flustered and pleased to be included in the intrigue. "There's a fire exit by the kitchen," she told them. "I'm not really supposed to let anyone use it, but—"
"It's a matter of life and death," Syaoran urged.
"I guess it would be ok." She winked. "Just this once."
Sakura and Syaoran were outside in a flash. Not until they reached his car, parked across the street, did Sakura collapsed to catch her breath. Syaoran wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly.
"That was a close call," he said, kissing the top of her head, then bringing his lips down to nuzzle her cheek. "I guess I wasn't really thinking when I talked you into coming."
"It's not your fault, Syaoran. I could have stayed home if I'd really wanted to." At that moment, encircled in his arms and glowing with the warmth of his kisses, she was glad she hadn't.
He tipped her chin back so that her eyes met his searching gaze. "You're not just saying that to make feel better?"
"Really, Syaoran," she murmured, her fingers playing with the golden brown curls that hung over the back of his collar, "I'm not sorry." But before Syaoran could say anything, she drew her body close to his, kissing him lightly on his lips.
Liar, she was telling herself at the same time, I'd be plenty sorry if Mrs. Willet had spotted me.
Next time she had a feeling she wouldn't be so lucky.
Tbc…
Tenshi: Hello, minna-san! There, a nice, quite long chapter for all of you! I really enjoy writing this, especially Tomoyo's character here. Kinda reminds me of myself. Haha! Anyway, those kisses are starting to multiply, ne? *snickers* Did I make you wait? Sorry. As I said in my bio, I am savoring my too-short summer vacation. And my head is still full of Gravitation and X/1999. Oh my God! I love Yaoi! *cackles* I suppose you know what Yaoi is? Will you hate me for liking Yaoi? @_@
Thanatos: *shrugs* We won't care anyway if you'll hate us or not.
Tenshi: *pouts* You might not care but I do! I wuv each and every one of them! *glomps you all* Thanks for reviewing!
Thanatos: Riiiiiight… -_-;
Tenshi: ^_^ Pardon my aibou, minna. She's ALWAYS like that. She's really a nice person, just kinda cynical. Anyway, on with the reviews!
Miss_K: Um, I think it would be impossible for my story to have 3500+ reviews! *laughs* And yeah, 'Childhood Sweetheart' was quite sad. Whoa, you like Squall, too? I love him! But of course DUO is no. 1! Thanks for reviewing, Kay!
Suzu: No! Duo is MUCH cuter than Zechs! But I agree that Zechs is cute! And yes, I'm crazy for Kurama, especially when he's in Youko form. Actually, I still have many crushes… but the space is not enough for them *chuckles* Thanks for the review!
SakuraLiForever: Sorry for the wait! And thanks for reviewing!
Alex: Here I am! Here I am!
Silver Wolf Gurl: Yeah, Sakura is very lucky because she has Syaoran-kun! Thank you!
TaRe-ChiBi: WOW! You're from Cebu? And you now live in America? Wai! Hey, maybe I could meet you there… hihihi… I'll be leaving the Philippines, too, this year for Seattle. I mean, it's about time!You know, my mom's in Italy and my dad's in America and they left me here in the Philippines! INJUSTICE! *giggles* I'm sure you're tagalong will come back slowly to you.
Salamat!
Moonearthgurl: There's the chapter! Hope you liked it!
Kanna sagara: Wow! You speak Spanish?! I only know a few words… and even fewer sentences… *sighs* Hope you enjoyed the chapter!
S+S43v3r: Of course I don't like overly mushy stuff!I'll die first before writing an all-fluff story! *dies* YAAAHH!!! Nah, kidding! Thanks for reviewing!
Kitten at heart: Thank you very much!
Tenshi: Did I miss anyone? Anyway, thanks again! And sorry again for being late! Promise I'll hasten the next chapter! Ja ne!