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Chapter 8

"Anyways, Professor Trumbull thinks that the extra sulfuric acid is what caused the problem." Jeannette finished her story with relish. "I think it was that there wasn't enough. But I guess we'll find out tomorrow."

"Well, I hope you're right." Simon said. "I know you'd love to show up Professor Trumbull. He's so pompous. I didn't like him either."

"No one does." They walked in silence for a few minutes. Jeannette watched Simon's face as they walked, noting the strain in his features. Theodore wasn't the only one that had lost weight. She was worried that he was pushing himself too far. With regular classes and his pre-med program and helping Theodore, she knew Simon was overworked and probably emotionally exhausted. She knew better than to suggest that Simon and Dave find Theodore a nurse, however. He did have one for when the others were at school – due to his medical needs he needed to have a private tutor come to him in his home – but any other time Simon refused to even consider the idea of someone other than himself taking care of his little brother.

"How are you doing, Simon?" She asked then, trying not to blush. She did that far too often with Simon lately.

"Theodore's doing so much better. I've been really happy with his progress, you know. Except for the eating thing. I've been having a devil of a time trying to get him to eat." He glanced back at where Eleanor was spooning a bit of her soup into his brother's mouth. "Maybe he just needed some other encouragement than mine, though."

"I didn't ask about Theodore, Simon, I asked about you."

Simon blinked. Jeannette honestly believed that he didn't realize how often he would answer questions about his own well-being with how the others he loved in his life were doing. "Well, I'm fine, I guess. Tired, but fine."

"That's understandable."

"I've decided on a medical major, too. It wasn't as hard as I thought it was going to be."

"Oh?" Jeannette was a little surprised. Last she had talked to him about his med major, he was in a quandary about what to do with it. He had said that he wanted to do it all, and obviously, he couldn't, but that the choice was impossible for him to make. Granted, that had been when he started the program eight months ago, but..."What is it?"

There was a quiet moment. "Neurosurgery." Simon finally said.

"Oh." There was no question anymore as to why he had chosen that, but Jeannette couldn't think of anything to say. "That's good."

"Yeah."

Jeannette walked a while quietly. She wished she could do as Eleanor kept urging her, and just open up to Simon about her feelings, but it wasn't as easy as all that. Eleanor wore her emotions confidently, but Jeannette had always hidden behind her bookish manner and disheveled clothing. Eleanor really didn't understand that she was afraid of losing that, well, that protection. But if she never tried, she'd never know, Eleanor was right about that. Jeannette opened her mouth to speak.

"I hope Dave comes up with something about Alvin." Simon beat her to it. "Theodore doesn't do well for days after one of us comes back with no news. It really depresses him, and each time it gets worse."

Jeannette closed her mouth, silently cursing herself for being so weak. But here, actually, on this topic she genuinely had some information for Simon. At least, she thought she did. "Oh, yeah, Simon, that's actually why I wanted to talk to you alone."
"It is?" Was that disappointment in his voice? Why would he be disappointed? He had been searching for Alvin for months!

"Yes." She hesitated, not wanting to give him false hope, but still..."I've been running searches on the computer of all of the airports in the New York area, thinking that he might have taken a plane out of the country. He'd gotten quite a bit of money out of the bank, so its not an impossible idea."

"I know." Simon looked at her quizzically. "How did you get into those records? It thought they were restricted."

She blushed. "Yeah, well, I kind of made my own way in." In other words, she had hacked into both the bank records and the flight schedules.

"Made your own way in?" Simon asked, cocking one eyebrow. "As in broke in?"

"If you want to get technical." Jeannette said, rushing on. "As you already know, no one by the name of Alvin Seville was on any of those flights."

"Yes, the P.I we hired checked it out too. As far as he can tell, Alvin never took a plane at all. No records, and you know that they're really careful about who they'll let on plane nowadays." Simon pointed out.

"Yes, I know." Jeannette agreed. "But I cross-referenced the passenger lists by species. Chipmunks represent a minority in American society, you know, so that narrowed the list considerably."

"What's your point, Jeannette?" Simon asked her curiously. "We already know that Alvin didn't ever get on a plane."

"Alvin didn't, but six months ago almost exactly an eighteen year old chipmunk by the name of Theo Miller did." Jeannette said. She had walked a few steps before she realized that Simon had frozen behind her.

"Simon?" She asked, going back to him. His face looked stunned.

"Theo Miller?" Simon seemed to be incredulous. "That can't be a coincidence, can it?"

"Well, it can, but I don't think it is." Jeannette told him primly. "Last night, I tried to find out everything I could about this 'Theo Miller.' There were quite a few of them, but only one Chipmunk by that name – and he had died over ten years ago."

"Then..." Simon's shoulders drooped.

Jeannette hurried on to reassure him. "No, Simon, I think its Alvin, I really do." She paused as Simon looked at her with questioning in his eyes. "I think he bought Theo Miller's identity."

"He bought..." That was a thought that obviously never occurred to Simon. "He bought another identity?"

Jeannette nodded. "At least, that's my theory."

"Oh, my god! Why didn't I ever think about that? It explains so much!"

"I'm not a hundred percent sure of this, Simon. But..."Jeannette couldn't help but smile to see Simon so excited, but felt she had to be cautious.

"But it's the best lead we've come across in months." Simon grabbed her shoulders gently, his exhilaration apparent in his eyes. "Jeannette, tell me you found out where Theo Miller's plane was headed to. Please, please tell me you found that out."

Jeannette couldn't help it, she grinned as big as he did. "London. He went to London."

"London, England?" Simon asked incredulously.

"London, England."

"No wonder we couldn't find him! We never stopped looking outside the states!" Simon picked Jeannette up and whirled her around. Jeannette found herself laughing in joy with Simon, even if a part of her felt it was premature. "Jeannette, I could kiss you for this!"

Suddenly he seemed to realize what he was doing, and hastily put her on the ground. "I'm sorry, Jeannette. That was inappropriate."

"That's all right." Jeannette said.

"No, I was being-"

"No, I mean that's all right, you can kiss me if you want." The blush won, but Jeannette didn't care. She waited expectantly, watching his face move from apologetic to surprised to and finally to delighted. She smiled in relief, and then she was lifted off her feet as he kissed her, gently at first, then with more fervor. She followed the kiss, letting herself go for the first time in her life. She definitely didn't regret it.

"Wow." She said as Simon released her moments later. "Wow."

"Wow does seem to cover it." Simon smiled at her radiantly, and she melted. "Definitely wow."

Jeannette couldn't help but ask. "Did you..."

"I kissed you because I wanted to." Simon assured her. "I've wanted to for a long time."

"Really?"

"Really." Simon glanced at Theodore and Eleanor. "They're watching, you know."

Jeannette followed his gaze and waved at little at them. "I know." Suddenly she felt a wave of confidence envelope her, and she wrapped her arms around Simon.

"Let them watch."

OoooOoooO

"Theo, catch!"

Alvin fumbled as he tried to catch the porcelain plate that Isabelle had just thrown to him. "Belle!" He said irritably, sounding for all the world like his brother Simon. "Don't do that! Mr. Collins will kill you if he catches you goofing off again."

"Oh, come on, Theo," the other Chipmunk pouted at him, the expression strange on her face due to the punk makeup she insisted on wearing. "Don't be such a stick-in-the-mud, luv."
Stick-in-the-mud. Not exactly how he would have described himself six months ago, but now..."I don't want you to get fired, Belle. You're walking a fine line as it is."

"Oh, really, Theo. You need to have a little fun." She handed him a stack of dirty plates. "Here. Look, I'm being good, see?"

"Thanks." Alvin said sarcastically, taking the plates. He sighed as he began to wash them. He hated when the regular dishwasher called in sick. His regular job of waiting tables wasn't much better, but Mr. Collins always made Alvin sub when the regular dishwasher called in sick - which was often.

"Speaking of fun, are you going to the party tonight?" Isabelle asked.

"I don't think so." Alvin shook his head. "Daniel's parties kind of get a little too wild sometimes."

"Yeah, but that's the fun!" Isabelle grinned. "If you didn't insist on being such a stick-in-the-mud, you'd see that."

"Stop calling me that!" Alvin ordered, exasperated.

"What, stick-in-the-mud?" Isabelle laughed. "But you are one, luv. Haven't you ever wanted a little adventure in your life?"

"I think I've had enough adventure for one lifetime, thanks." Alvin replied.

"I find that hard to believe."

"You couldn't even imagine, Belle." Alvin went back to washing dishes. "Now you'd better get back to work before-"

"Isabelle!"

"Too late." Alvin finished.

"Theo, the party?" Isabelle whispered, her eyes darting around. They could hear Mr. Collins, but he hadn't turned the corner yet.

"No!"

"I'm not leaving until you say yes!"

Alvin could hear Mr. Collins storming towards them. "Okay, okay, just go!"

Isabelle grinned. "Meet you after work!" She shot at him as she ran off in the opposite direction – just in time. Mr. Collins came around the corner.

"Theo, have you seen Belle?" He asked, irritation in his eyes. "She's left three tables sitting without drinks for over fifteen minutes!"

"No, I'm sorry, Mr. Collins." Alvin lied, busying himself with the dishes "Isn't she in the dining room?"

"That'll be the day." Mr. Collins grumbled. He looked pointedly at the silverware drawer. "Hurry up with those spoons, Theo. We're almost out."

"Right away, Mr. Collins. "Alvin said. He grabbed the silverware drawer and sighed.

It was going to be a long night.

OoooOoooO

"Theo, are you going to hide out here all night?"

Alvin smiled at Isabelle as she sat down next to him. "I told you that Daniel's parties are a little wild for me, Belle."

"But if you'd only...never mind. Its no use." Isabelle held her hands up helplessly. "I don't get you, Theo. You travel halfway across the world to what? Wash dishes?"

"Not really," Alvin admitted.

"Then what?" Isabelle rested her head in one hand. "We're friends, right?"

"Of course."

"Then tell me. You know everything about me – from the time I was four and fell off the diving board and broke my tooth to who I broke up with last month."

"Which one, Jake or Frederick? There were two of them."

"See? Exactly my point. I've told you everything, and you've told me nothing. What's your story?" She watched him earnestly. "What are you running from?"
Alvin was quiet. He didn't know what to tell her. After a moment, Isabelle began speaking again.

"See, as far as I can figure, something bad must have happened to you, something you feel is so terrible that you can't even stay in the same country anymore. You're definitely no criminal, so I don't think it was trouble with the law." Alvin looked at her sourly. She shrugged. "Hey, I've given this a lot of thought. You're still running, I know. You never spend any money, just hoard it like a miser, and I've seen your apartment, Theo. Spartan doesn't even begin to describe it. You're just saving up enough so that you can leave again."

"You want to stay working for Mr. Collins the rest of your life?" Alvin asked pointedly.

"Bloody hell, I hope not. But its different for me. I'm living my life, Theo. You're just...well, existing." Alvin winced at her comment. She finally was quiet for a moment, then spoke again.

"You know the earth is round, right?"

Alvin looked at her quizzically. "Hey, I wasn't born in the twelfth century, you know."

"Sometimes I wonder." She laughed softly at Alvin's glare, then sobered. "My point is, if you keep running, you're going to end up right where you started. You can't run away forever."

Alvin sighed, "I know."

They sat in companionable silence for a while. Isabelle seemed to accept that Alvin wasn't going to say anything on the matter, for which he was eternally grateful. He still couldn't bring himself to talk about it. So they just sat, listening to the music wafting in from the party.

"Forever...I'm gonna miss you forever..."

Alvin's head shot up. "Brittany?" He said out loud before realizing he was going to speak.

Isabelle grinned at him. "You like Brittany and the Chippettes, too? They're one of my favorites."

"I keep searching my heart...got to find that missing part..."

Alvin quickly tried to cover his slip. "Yeah, I do like them. A lot. I don't recognize this song, though."

"Are you joking? Its only being played on the radio every fifteen minutes. Its their new single." Isabelle stood. "I didn't know you were a Chippettes fan. I think that this calls for you to dance."

"Uh, no, Isabelle..."Alvin trailed off as she yanked to his feet and pulled him into the party. The throng of people were dancing so closely there almost wasn't room to breath, but Isabelle didn't seem to care. "Isabelle –"

"Be quiet and dance with me." Isabelle ordered, picking up his arms and placing them around her waist. She was so close that Alvin could smell her perfume even in the pressing crowd, a light floral scent that reminded him of jasmine. She started to sway with him, and Alvin helplessly gave up and moved with her. It was just one dance.

"That's better," She whispered into his ear.

As the dance continued, Alvin listened to the song. There was a sadness to the lyrics, and a melancholy to Brittany's voice that he didn't remember her having before. She had never really been interested in doing ballads, but this slow song definitely qualified as one. It was so good to hear her voice again, even if electronically reproduced, that he closed his eyes and started to lose himself in her song. He could almost imagine that it was Brittany he was dancing with, her perfume he was smelling, and she was singing only for him.

So strong was the illusion that when Isabelle's lips touched his he at first returned the kiss, pulling her up against him into a tight embrace. The kiss broke, leaving him dazed, and she rested her head on his shoulder. "I've wanted to do that for a long time, Theo." Isabelle whispered, and the spell was broken.

He pulled away quickly, coming back to himself in a rush. This wasn't Brittany, and he wasn't in California. Isabelle looked at him, worried. "Theo, what's wrong?"

"I...I can't, Belle."

"Why not?" She reached for him, and he backed away so quickly that he bumped into the couple behind him.

"Hey, watch it, friend." The boy told him roughly.

"Sorry," Alvin told him hastily, then looked at Isabelle with contrition in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Belle." And he turned and fled the room, leaving her standing there, a confused and hurt expression on his face.

"Ah, bloody hell." She said.

End of part 8

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