Disclaimer: Me? Own this swell piece of joy? –bursts out in hysterical laughter-

"It was horrible," Christine moaned against the top of her lunch table. Meg looked up, rolling her eyes.

"Are we going to do this every day?"

"Most likely," Christine muttered. "You don't understand, though, they were throwing things at him."

Meg's eyes rolled again. "Christine, allow me to be the first to tell you that you have the most unnatural fixation on this boy's misery. If you pile that one top of your own pain for too long, your heart's just going to implode."

"What a lovely image for when I'm eating," the dark-haired girl replied, regarding her sandwich with distaste.

"Oh, wow," Meg breathed, obviously ignoring her. "Look who just strutted in."

"Who?" Christine craned her neck to see around the throngs of people. "Erik?"

"No, not Erik! Raoul." Meg's eyes were glazed over. "The hottest boy to ever walk these halls…"

Christine snorted. "Please, he can't be that—oh."

The sea of people had finally parted and she could see that Raoul was an extremely attractive young man. He had light brown hair, big dark eyes, and boyish smile—and a letterman jacket, she noticed.

"Football player?"

"Football god," Meg amended. "And class president. That boy has scholarships lined up as far as the eye can see."

"I suppose you're going to tell me that he also works with little cancer patients and that he's seconds away from finding a cure for AIDs." Christine chuckled. Then she out-and-out laughed at Meg's scandalized expression. "Wow, lighten up. You're drooling."

"Don't you think he's amazing?" Meg asked uncertainly.

Christine shrugged. "He's a cute guy with the weirdest name I've ever heard. That's all I can say about him for now."

Meg continued to gape at her. "You…are the strangest creature…ever."

"No, I'm not judgmental." Christine shrugged. "I'll tell you what I think if I ever—ow!"

She had stood up to throw out her lunch remains and slammed into a wall. No, not a wall…a person. A guy. A Raoul.

"I'm so sorry!" he exclaimed. "Are you—"

"I'm fine." She lifted her eyebrows. "And you?"

A relieved smile crossed his face. "Perfect, thanks. I'm Raoul."

"So I've heard. I'm Christine."

She started to turn back to her table. He grabbed her shoulder.

"What are you doing?" she demanded. He peered more closely at her.

"You look…familiar. Have we met?"

How would I know? "Maybe. I don't…I don't know." She frowned. "Could you please let go of me?"

Looking extremely sheepish, the "football god" released his grip on her. Shaking her head, Christine sat back down. Raoul looked curiously at her for a moment more, then went on his way.

Meg elbowed her hard enough to leave a bruise. Christine yelped.

"That hurt!"

"Good," Meg told her hotly. "I can't believe you!"

"Can't believe what? What did I do?"

"What did you do! Christine, you as good as insulted Raoul!"

"Oh, who cares?" Christine shot back huffily, growing quickly impatient with this boy's obvious hero status.

But it seemed that she was the only one with such an attitude. Through the remainder of lunch, she kept catching people gawking at her and someone shouldered her more viciously than was normal as she and Meg fought their way down to the choir hall.

"What is their problem?" she demanded, chagrined by her peers' odd behavior.

Meg only shook her head. "You, my dear, made a grave mistake on the social scale. People are going to think you're a leper or something."

"All because I shrugged off the resident pretty-boy?" Christine demanded, frustrated. "He's just a guy!"

"He's the guy," Meg corrected her as they went in. "You blew off the guy, Christine."

"Yeah, well—"

"Ladies, would you kindly stop chattering?" Madame Giry asked, glaring at them. "You are thirty seconds late and we do not need to hear about your drama as well."

Christine jumped, thrown off-balance by the reprimand. Meg simply shot her mother a dirty look.

"Sorry, Madame."

Madame Giry closed her eyes briefly. "Meg, I don't have the patience necessary for this today. Check your teen angst at the door and come in, both of you. Christine, would you mind collecting Erik again?"

Christine's heart jerked happily. She nodded and went to the door leading to the hellishly-long staircase, trying not to seem too eager. Once the entryway had shut behind her, however, she flew down the flight of steps as quickly as she dared.

Once again, she found Erik at his piano, swaying to the music he was producing. She slipped in, bringing the door shut, and stood behind him, not wishing to interrupt.

"Is she ready?"

"Yes." Christine stepped back as he got up, giving him room to move.

He hesitated. "Listen….earlier, what you did—"

She looked expectantly up at him. Was he going to thank her? It didn't seem his style, but for all she knew he was full of surprises.

"You didn't have to. And it would be better for you if you didn't waste your time."

Apparently not. She blinked, puzzled. "Waste my time?"

"With me," he clarified and even under his customary shadow, she could tell that he was embarrassed. Was this foolish male pride or something deeper?

"Erik, I don't mind—"

He flinched at the sound of his own name. A wave of pity tore into her.

"What's the matter?"

He said nothing, only turned away; Christine thought she heard him sigh as he started up the stairs.

A/N: Second of the day! Enjoy—the next chapter may take me a bit longer. Right now, I'm off to smirk cynically at coming home dresses with my cousin.

(Oh, and for the..three Raoul-lovers out there, I'll try to refrain from bashing him too badly. I don't hate the guy, he just sortof gets in the way...-smirk- I'll try to be fair...ish.)