I've been on an anime OST spree. Much love to those CDs. Lyrics are from the opening of Ghost In the Shell: Stand Alone Complex,by Yoko Kanno and performed byOriga. Sorry for the wait.

anonymous: It's okay if you think I ruined Calvin and Hobbes, no need to apologize (although it did make me feel better). I might be bringing Hobbes back, I'm not sure myself. Sorry if you're disappointed, though. Although I've always thought Calvin and Susie are just destined to be forced together by insane fans, haha.

Thanks for the reviews! MUCH LOVE.

Chapter Seven

I am Calling Calling now, Spirits rise and falling
Soboj ostat'sya dol'she...
Calling Calling, in the depth of longing
Soboj ostat'sya dol'she...

Susie Derkins. As much as I was the odd one as a child, she is now. If it makes any sense, she used to even me out, just a little bit. Or at least, she always gave me someone to compete against, so I wouldn't implode out of boredom.

Why was she asking me those things? I ask myself, as I sit in my desk, pretending to concentrate on the teacher's rambling lesson. How long has Susie concerned herself with the point of life? Isn't that a suicidal thing to dwell on? Hopefully she isn't suicidal. I'll have to make a mental note to remember to ask her.

"Calvin?" The teacher looks up at me. I stare back blankly. I don't even know what we're doing, much less what I should answer. She taps the paper in front of me, and says kindly, "Number six, please."

Six. Six. Ah . . . "Pourquoi est-ce que vous allez a la gare?" I say this all with a heavy American accent, but I grin at the teacher gently to soften the blow. She smiles back graciously, and continues on with a nod of her head. She's not that bad, even with her cigarette smell. She tries hard to become friendly with the students without completely losing control of the class. And, as a bonus, she doesn't mind when I don't even make an attempt at a French accent.

Back to Susie—no, you know what? Fuck Susie. Why do I need to think about her more than necessary? I take out my little inner mind notebook, and scribble down an update.

Dear Notebook. I've been seeing Susie quite regularly, as friends. She's been on my mind, possibly because of the outburst yesterday. Study further. –Dr. Calvin.

That didn't help, I think hopelessly. The rest of period slides on slowly—sooo slowly—and by the time the bell rings I was ready to jump up and run out of the room with or without the bell's permission. I leap out of my seat, and rush through the door, out into the hallway where a throng of people is pushing itself down into classrooms.

I expect to make it to my next class without incident, like I do every other day. Unfortunately, today isn't my lucky day. An arm grabs hold of me as I walk past, pulling me back into the wall. Ow. I look to see who is responsible for such a latent lack of respect and I see that twit of a boyfriend—Carl.

"Why, hello there, Carl. How are things in your life? Mine was going rather well until you decided to barge in and--" I'm cut short by a fist in my stomach.

"What the fuck are you doing with my girlfriend?" His face is blurry in my eyes, and I try standing up straight, but he pushes me back down. Come on can't anyone see this?

Haha, I almost start laughing when I think that. Please, I know that everyone can see me. This is just so terribly common that no one cares enough to bother anymore. Eventually a teacher will pass and grab up bother, sending us to speak of our punishment with the headmaster. But as of yet, no one has come by. So I'm left at the mercy of Carl's angry fists. One of the said fists slams into my side.

"I asked you a goddamn question, asshole." I grunt in response. Carl really isn't the sharpest knife, is he? How can I be expected to answer when he's punching the air out of my lungs!

"I said--" Carl is lifting his fist for another hit when I jump up, painfully, and push him into the wall.

"I heard you," I hiss, holding him tightly against the wall. "First of all, I wasn't do anything with Susie. There's a little word called friends. I don't know if you and your angsty group know the word, really. Secondly," I let a little grin grow on my lips, and I stare at Carl's surprised expression in amusing. "If we were doing something, why the blazes do you think I would tell you?"

Once again, I'm on the ground, and Carl is standing above me, panting in his fury. "You piece of shit." I feel the pain my torso, but I disconnect myself from it. Oh shit. I shouldn't have let my mouth have a turn at the mic. I could be bleeding internally.

"Stop it!" Why is Carl telling himself to stop? Has he gone temporarily mad? Well, that isn't a good enough reason to be beating me to a bloody pulp.

But he's not anymore, is he? Well, it seems I'm getting pulled into an upright position, so it's not likely he is. I open my eyes—one doesn't seem to like me this very moment and refuses to—and I see him being held back by—

Aria?

And here's me thinking she hates my guts. When she seems to see me staring—in what I hope looks like confusion—she glares at me, which seems to back up the whole she-hates-me theory. We've got history, her and me. It's my hormones' fault really. I mean, for all her faults, she's pretty—what's a tasteful word for this? You know what, screw tasteful, behind the heavy makeup and bored expression, she's hot.

So when she began coming on to me, what, you'd think I would turn her down? Insert a diversion in opinion on several matters and an argument on how she pisses me off, and you get . . . well, this, I suppose.

So then why isn't she persuading Carl to beat me harder?

Then Mim comes up from behind her, and it all falls into place. Mim is the kind of considerate sort of girl, who likes everyone—and vice versa—and is accepted into any group without prejudice. Why she's so close to Aria—of all people—is beyond anyone insight. Also, while we're on the subject of inexplicable things, there's also the question of why Aria listens to Mim as she were her puppy. Aria being the puppy, not Mim.

But at that moment, I'm not extremely concerned with their odd relationship. I just want to get as far from Carl's fists as I can.

I grunt, and I begin moving away from the scene. Maybe they won't notice . . .

"Calvin?" Mim's voice sounds rather shrill, and I turn around, internally wincing and cursing at her for noticing me at the completely wrong moment.

"Yeah?"

"What's going on between you and Suzz?" Suzz? Oh yeah, Susie. I should tell her I fucked 'Suzz's' brains out the night before just to disconcert her. I find myself hating that innocent and kind look on her face, as if she's some sort of saint. Isn't homosexuality a sin? There won't be any Saint Mim's Church, then.

Well, then again it's just an assumption, but . . . why else would Aria follow anyone else's orders? She's not the real loyal type, as I've found out the hard way. And the look in Aria's eyes when she looks at Mim . . . it reminds me of the way she used to look at me.

Whatever, it's no business of mine who Mim allows to let into bed (I'm once again speaking on assumption, mind you. I do not follow Aria around, in a sad, pathetic attempt to find out what her sexual tendencies may be).

"Going on? Are you asking me if I've made a pass on her? If I'm warm for her form? If I've hit on her? If she's hit on me? If—" I would have gone further and watched with extreme amusement as Aria explodes from annoyance, but Carl tries to pull himself away from Aria. I've got to hand it to Aria. She's can have a strong grip if she really wants to . . . but even she seems to be straining to keep Carl away from me. I decide that it would be smarter for my self-preservation if I were to shut up. Around now. "Nothing's going on," I reply simply, staring at Carl straight on.

I may be scared shitless of being beat up, but I'm not going to put my pride at risk. Especially when there's a good chance Aria won't let him hurt me . . .hopefully.

"I don't believe you. I've seen you two together. You guys don't look too unfamiliar with each other!" Carl snarls at me. I think back carefully at our last few meetings. Well, had we behaved differently than two old friends might? I can't image so. Except for the fact that we've kissed—haha as if! 'Suzz' has changed in some ways—okay, in many, many ways—but not towards me. She still acts like she knows best . . . but she's not nearly as holier-than-thou than she used to be. After all she's the 'bad' one now.

"Would you rather if the two of us had at least three miles in between us at all times, Carl? Are you an idiot, Carl? We're friends. We're not unfamiliar with each other because we've known each other for years. And what are you, her personal protector? If she wants to cheat on you, you beating me up probably won't help matters."

Carl rips himself out of Aria's grip, and flies towards me, an enraged expression on his face. "We'll see about that!"

"Carl!"

"Calvin!" Susie cries out as soon as she sees me. "What the hell happened to you!"

I shrug nonchalantly, but in wince internally as my back seems to creak. Ow. "I fell down the stairs?"

"Right, Calvin. Like I'll believe that one." She lifts up my chin with a hand, and I raise an eyebrow in response. What the hell is she doing? Playing nurse? Isn't she a bit old for those sorts of games? "Who beat you up?"

"No one beat me up. Even if they had, it wouldn't be any of your business," I retort defensively. I don't need her to go all protective on me. I have my pride—however will hidden it may be, it's there. Anyway, I don't think she'll respond well if I tell her her boyfriend beat me up.

"It was Carl wasn't it?"

Crap.

Shorty chapter, huzzah! Do I know any other kind?