Disclaimer: "This is not about love Because I am not in love In fact I can't stop falling out"

(An: This is the sequel to "Replacement", so I might suggest reading that first... I don't think it's vital, but it might help explain some of Sissi's thought patterns and stuff.)

I swung my legs and shifted in my seat, trying to recall why I was there. It had been nearly a month since I had walked out of a bar with an intention to leave behind all of my childhood friends (and my childhood love). I could've been back at my apartment, laughing with my friends or studying, and yet here I was, sitting in a theatre for a screening of one of Odd's movies.

The movie was actually pretty passable. It was weird, yeah, but Odd's sense of humor had matured (somewhat) enough to make it bearable.

Still, I felt cross with myself as I walked outside and even crosser for feeling cross. "Ugh," I muttered. "That was a waste of money." It hadn't been, but it made me feel less pathetic.

I sighed, crossing my arms as I stomped off to my dorm.

The second I sat down on my bed, the doorbell buzzed. Murphy's Law flourishes, I thought, still feeling grumpy. I got up and answered it. When I saw who was there, I got the strongest feeling of deja vu. After all, the last time I had seen this guy, it had been just as unexpected. "Odd?"

"The one and only," he replied, smirking at me.

"What're you doing here?"

Without waiting for an invitation, he came in and sat down in the one chair I owned. "Well, actually," he said, putting his hands behind his head and slumping down in the chair in the manner I remembered all too well, "I've been meaning to get in touch with you since... um, you know." For the first time since I'd met him, Odd looked away and he actually looked nervous.

I leaned back on a heel and crossed my arms again. Odd looked at me, and a corner of his mouth went up at this familiar stance. "You mean the time I got molested twice in one day?"

"Hey, hey, hey," said Odd. "I was drunk and Ulrich was in a manic depression. Neither of us can be held responsible for our actions, Sissi."

"Sure," I replied.

"Your sarcasm makes me feel young again," Odd sighed, smiling at me.

I just stared at him.

"Right. Point." He paused. "What was my point?" he asked himself.

I facepalmed. Oh, God.

"Right!" he said after a second. "Sorry." He stood up and stuck a finger in my face. "You know, I've lost all respect for you in the last year."

I stared at the finger, blinking.

"Yes, I had respect for you," Odd went on, answering my unspoken question. "Otherwise, I would've just ignored you and let you go your way." He drew back his finger, putting his hands on his hips. "You, Elisabeth Delmas, are a coward."

Needless to say, this was the last thing I'd been expecting from him. "What?"

"You heard me," he said, crossing his arms this time and meeting my eyes. "You're a coward. Do I have to spell it to be sure you catch my drift?"

"Why," I demanded, glaring at him through slitted eyes, "would you accuse me of that, Della Robbia?"

"Because it's fairly obvious that you are," Odd replied, as cool as a cat.

The glare remained as he gave me this non-answer. "Explain."

"I can tell from that look on your face," said Odd, getting up and walking over by me again, "that you think that what you've done is 'start over', erase your past. But you haven't. Oh, no, my dear Miss Delmas, you have not."

"What are you talking about? I thought you were an idiot before. Now I know."

"You can't erase your past," Odd said, ignoring me. "Not when you haven't reconciled with it, you can't."

The glare deepened, but I couldn't think of a suitable argument to counter his.

"Exactly."

"What does this have to do with anything?" I said, sitting down on my bed.

"Nothing much, really," Odd conceded with a little shrug. "Like I said, I've been trying to get in touch with you for a while now, but what with everything... was my movie really a waste of time?" He had that under-curious, need-for-approval look I'd only ever seen on other, lesser people.

I wrinkled my nose. "No," I admitted. "It was actually pretty good."

He leaned back in his seat again, seeming pleased.

"And why did you even bring that up?"

"I wanted to know," said Odd, with a "duh" look. "But we're missing my point. It has been almost a month since you spoke to Ulrich, Sissi, and he is very confused." I stared at him and he went on. "Ulrich is confused because he knows you love him, and despite what you said in the bar- yes, I told him, don't look so surprised- it still doesn't click that you would abandon him like that without even a phone call to explain. He thinks that at the very least you two would remain friends if you didn't still like him that way-"

"And if I did he would have a Yumi replacement. I know."

"No, if you think it was like that, you don't. He actually likes you, Sissi- not nearly as much as he liked Yumi, but that's just to be expected... and not nearly as much as I like you, but that's beside the point." He talked very fast on that last part, so it took me a moment to decipher what he said.

"Wait... what?"

"You heard me," said Odd. After a second of my blank stare, he picked up on the fact that I hadn't. "Let me lay all my cards on the table: you need to talk to Ulrich, you need to move on, and I think I'm in love with you. Any questions?"

"..." I said. "What the HELL?"

"I know, bizarre," said Odd. "If this were a bad romance novel it couldn't have a stranger plot. You're in love with my best friend and I'm in love with you. Go figure."

"I'm not in love with Ulrich!" I said, a little louder than I meant to. "I thought I was, but I'm not."

"Well, that's a step in the right direction. Admitting it out loud always helps."

"I've known it for almost a year, Odd. Ever since he kissed me. I'm not his number one."

"If it helps," he said gently, "no one else will ever be."

"It doesn't," I said, and the bitter, brittle edge to my voice made me realize he was right: I hadn't moved on. I sat down on my bed, blinking rapidly.

"And there we have it."

"Cut that out," I muttered, burying my face in my hands.

"Oh, don't despair, Sissi. I can tell you're really upset because you're not just punching me in the face."

"I may just do that," I said, peeking out between my fingers. "It would make me feel better."

"True," Odd admitted, tapping his lips with a finger, "but that's not usually the best way to start a relationship."

Ordinarily, this is where I would have made a heated objection to the idea of a relationship with him- this was Odd we're talking about- but him drawing attention to his lips made me remember just how our last meeting had ended. That is, with a drunken kiss. He was drunk, not me. I mean, I had remembered it before, but now I was remembering how it had felt. He wasn't such a bad kisser. Probably better when he was sober, though.

Anyway, Odd glanced at me when I didn't immediately protest and seemed to take this as a good sign. "So," he said, giving me an over-acted leer. "How you doin'?"

I stared at him.

"Oh, come on, I had to lighten the tone before one of us snapped here."

"Go away," I mumbled, stretching out on my bed and hiding my head under my pillow. There was a pause, and then I felt Odd sit down on the bed next to me. I groped around to push him off but he took my hand, rubbing my palm with his thumb. "Odd."

"I'm not going anywhere, Sissi," he said. "I did not get the balls up to do this just to have you brush me off."

"What do you want, then?" I demanded, shoving the pillow off my head and sitting up, putting my face close to his. This probably wasn't the wisest thing to do, but hey, I was upset. "Do you want a sweeping love theme and a kiss or some crap like that? I don't think so, Della Robbia. I may have been wrong about Ulrich, but I know that I don't like you."

He flinched slightly but held my gaze. "That would be nice," he admitted, "but impractical. Really, I'd be more satisfied if you just called Ulrich. He was really upset, you know. He considered you his closest female friend."

I blinked. "...He did?"

"See? You don't know the whole story, Miss Delmas," Odd said. "He told me he wanted to apologize, but didn't know how to find you. You can't blame a guy for what he does when he's desperate."

My expression softened a bit and I sat back farther, relaxing a little.

"I'd be the most satisfied," he added, smirking, "if you called Ulrich and went to dinner with me, but I'm willing to negotiate."

"What is wrong with you?" I demanded, edging back against the wall. "You don't like me! You hate my guts!"

"Au contraire, Sissi," said Odd, waving a lazy finger at me. "I've always kind of sort of liked you but you've always been interested in Ulrich and we were always such jerks to each other that it became kind of a moot point. So, about that dinner?"

"..."

"We can work on your reaction times, dear."

"Don't call me dear and we have a date."

"Brilliant." He got up, looked around the room, and then shoved my cell phone at me.

"I get the picture, Odd. Now get out of here!" I pointed at the door.

"Fine, fine," he said. He paused, halfway out the door. "Oh, I almost forgot." He crossed the room in a few long strides, took my face in his hands and kissed me softly.

I couldn't do anything but gape.

He twiddled his fingers at me and walked out, humming.

How do I get myself into these things? I wondered, flopping back on my bed. After a moment, sighing, I sat up again, swept the hair out of my face, and picked up the cell phone. It was amazing how even though I knew Ulrich wouldn't be able to see me, I still wanted to look good for him. I hate it when Odd's right, I thought, keying in the numbers.

"Hello?" said a voice, about thirty seconds later.

"Hello, Ulrich," I sighed, closing my eyes.

(I know the "How you doin'?" thing is one of those very American jokes, but I really couldn't think of anything else. -sweatdrop- Otherwise, I think we're good. Especially if you review.)