a/n: One review? Come on, I know you can do better! If you want this story updated, I want at least ten reviews! (determined look on face). Please review if you read this, it would make me very happy! By the way, if you are wondering about the pairings in this story...good luck and read on. Though they wont become apparent for at least a few more chapters. Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: If I owned anything related to Phantom of the Opera, I wouldn't be writing this.

Chapter Two

Beauty isn't Everything

It is not only fine feathers that make fine birds.

-Aesop

A rough burst of wind yanked a stray curl from my face as I waited, shivering, for the bus. The sharp coolness of the air was a sure sign of fall. The trees seemed to know this as well, for their leaves were already changing from different shades of emerald to scarlet, orange, and gold. It was beautiful, the season that surrounded me.

Then, there was a whining sound of braking wheels as a new-looking shiny yellow school bus pulled up in front of me. There windows were darkly tinted so that I couldn't see anything on the inside; and yet, the prickling sensation that someone was watching me filled my insides. Although I reasoned that surely, at least half of the bus would be anxious to see the new girl from France, the tickling on my face seemed to be from one pair of eyes in particular.

I quickly walked up the steps onto the bus, nearly tripping clumsily over my own feet. Glancing around nervously, I noticed that the entire bus seemed to be filled to the brim. There were at least two people to a seat, sometimes even three. I couldn't help but feel as if the walls were closing in on me. Then, when it seemed as though all was lost (it really did seem like I would die, right then and there out of embarrassment), I spotted a seat in the back with only one occupant.

Almost tripping again, I very nearly ran to the back of the bus and asked, in a quick and quiet voice," May I seat here, please?"

The boy sitting there turned to me beneath his hood, reaching up at the same time to pull the hood from his face. I almost audibly gasped at this point, for this had to have been the most handsome man on the face of the earth. Dark ebony hair was swept elegantly away from a pale face with striking features and glittering green-brown eyes. One side of his face seemed even whiter than the other, but other than that, this boy was, in a nutshell, fine.

"Please do," he replied after what seemed like an hour as I stood staring like a small child. I quickly complied just as the bus lurched forward, throwing me into my seat. All around me, the noise seemed to return to the bus. Whispers mostly, being spoken subtly enough that I might hear them on accident. I ignored them completely.

" My name is Christine Daae." I spoke softly, turning once again to the handsome boy sitting next to me. He turned to me as well, his face serious and almost solemn. He seemed to be studying me as if I were the most interesting book in the library. After a moment of silence, he replied.

"My name is Erik." He stared at me some more and it seemed as though this would be all he would say to me now. I cleared my throat softly and turned the opposite way to gaze out the window. The colors were blurred, like my life had been the past few months, everything flowing together to make a larger picture.

Occasionally, as the bus went over a bump, I would be tossed into the air like a pancake. Every time I would land unceremoniously in a heap next to Erik, who didn't seem to even be bothered by the movement. After speeding over yet another mountain sized bump in the road, I crashed straight into Erik. Fast as lightning, his arms were around me, preventing me from smashing my forehead into the window, which had been it's destined course. He set me back in my seat and resumed staring directly ahead, as though nothing had happened.

"Thanks," I murmured, softly. I didn't think he heard me, it was so quiet, until his low voice rumbled back.

"You're welcome."

After nearly fifteen minutes of being tossed around so much that I was sure I would have quiet a few bruises by the end of the day, the bus jerked to a stop beside a humongous building made of red brick and pale gray cement. Of course, being the ungraceful girl I am and this day being unlucky already, I slid straight forward in my seat, collided with the back of the seat in front of me, and slid to the floor like a fried egg sliding off the grill.

I moaned and smacked my head into the seat in front of me. My first day in an American highschool and I get to sit next to the most handsome boy I had ever seen and what do I do? I make a complete and utter fool of myself. I had thought I had my life under control. But here I was, more ungraceful than a ballerina on break. (A/N: This is an inside joke with one of my friends)

Suddenly, strong hands grasped my elbows and pulled me to my feet. I blinked, and turned to look at Erik, who was gazing down at me intently. I was surprised that I had to look up nearly a head length to see his face, as he was just about six feet and three inches tall. He had seemed so different sitting down. I also noticed that he was much leaner than he looked, especially in his dark sweatshirt and black jeans.

I coughed and thanked him quickly before following the line of students as they filed off of the bus. After a moment of stifling heat and claustrophobia, I stumbled down the steps of the bus and into a burst of wonderfully cool and refreshing wind. Not knowing exactly where to go, I followed the crowd of students from my bus and others through three sets of doors leading into the intimidating building before me.

As I followed behind a couple of football players (I could tell that they were such because of the identical jerseys they were all wearing), I couldn't help but feel as though I was being followed. The same prickling sensation that someone was staring at me accompanied this feeling, so that as I walked down the hall, trying to locate my home room, the schedule in my hand shook violently.

After nearly ten minutes of searching the halls for the choir room, I stumbled upon a remote door near the stage labeled Tech Room. Curiosity gripped me tightly and I couldn't help but try the handle. It was unlocked and the door swung silently out towards me. Stairs crawled upward in the darkness, leading to a faint light at the top of the landing.

The bell rang loudly, ringing in my head and reminding me that I was still lost. I quickly shut the door, making a mental note to visit it later. I quickly ran to the end of the hall, hoping that it would be the right way. Just as I turned the corner, I ran smack into a boy and fell flat on the ground, the wind knocked out of me.

"Crap, I'm so sorry! I wasn't watching where I was...going." The last word came out as an afterthought. I glanced up, trying to breath. Eyes bluer than the summer sky met mine and my breath left me again. I gulped and struggled to stand up.

"Oh, here!" The boy took my hand and helped me to my feet. I straightened my backpack on my shoulders, sure that my face was bright red by now. Why, oh why, did everyone in America have to be so handsome? This boy was very different from the one earlier, with light brown hair, tanned skin, and a gorgeous smile. He was the epitome of perfect.

"Heh, thanks," I said, mentally slapping myself for using 'heh'. How stupid could I make myself sound? Then, I glanced nervously back down at my schedule, remembering once again that I was late and lost.

"You're lost, aren't you?" the boy asked, grinning kindly at me. I smiled sheepishly and nodded.

"I can't find room 121," I muttered. Again, the boy smiled, as though I had just told a joke.

"That's the choir room, exactly where I was headed! Here, I'll show you the way," the boy said, motioning for me to link arms with him. I blushed furiously but slid my arm through his anyways.

"My name is Raoul, by they way," he told me as we walked down the hall. I looked up at him.

"I am Christine Daae," I replied amiably, enjoying the friendly conversation. Raoul halted suddenly, nearly toppling me yet again.

"Christine Daae? Is your father Charles Daae?" Raoul asked anxiously. I nodded sadly, thinking of my father. I had to remind myself that he was in heaven, with my mother. A better place than here, surely.

"Did you once lose a red scarf in the sea?" inquired Raoul even more eagerly. I frowned, trying to recall a memory as dusty as a book left on a shelf for a decade. Then, suddenly, it came back to me. The house my father had rented by a beach in France, the gorgeous blue ocean, and my scarf flying away in the wind and landing atop a wave. The funny boy who had dove in fully clothed to get it. I gasped and turned to Raoul.

"Yes! Yes, I remember! You were that little boy, weren't you?"

Raoul nodded and we both grinned at our newfound friendship. Soon, we arrived at our home room, were chastised by Mrs. Hohmann for being late, and sat down to listen to the morning announcements. As I took my seat in the soprano section, I noticed a familiar face in the tenor section.

Erik!, I thought, happy to recognize someone else. He nodded acknowledgment and I smiled at him. Raoul eyed me suspiciously, it seemed, from the bass section. I smiled at him as well.

So far, I had met two very different seeming young men. One, quiet, calm, and mysteriously handsome. The other, amicable, happy and flawless in his gorgeous looks. As the announcements neared an end, I scolded myself. Beauty isn't everything.