AN: Before I hear people groan and roll their eyes mumbling 'Oh gosh, not another AU high-school story! Save us!', I'd just like to say that I'm quite a fan of such stories- if they're tasty and contain lots of good Squinoa action and have somewhat exciting, meaningful plots and good grammar. Now, I'd like to attempt to craft such a story though I haven't tried writing fanfiction in a good two years. I apologize if this story starts out confusing, bland, or simply dreadful, but I tried my best and I hope you all enjoy a light read of fluff and drama! Oh, how I love drama.

Disclaimer: I hold no claim to the characters of FF8 or any of SquareSoft/Enix's creations.

Like That
Chapter 1 Tripping on the Pieces
by Seigh

A lot of people look at me now and think I'm spoiled, bratty, cocky and a bit too vain. I know you might look at me and wonder how the hell I would know what other people were saying behind my back, but I'm a girl. Girls can feel it when someone's stabbing them in the back. It's a necessary skill that needs to be honed and refined during your years of adolescence. I never really thought about it much, because it never really applied to me. But now? I'm pro. I'm elite at this shit. And it's as petty as it can get, but it doesn't matter does it?

I'm just so angry. He doesn't understand how it kills me to see him walk by with her at his side. And I hate how he misunderstands. I hate how futile it is, whatever I do, whatever I try to make him see. It's not really...I don't...I just wish nothing went wrong. I know, somewhere down there, he cares, I care, we were perfect. Do I blame him? No, of course not. It's not right to blame someone else for your own faults. But honestly? I do. I blame him night and day, I curse his name under my breath when he turns towards me and stares with those eyes that read only emptiness. He doesn't care anymore. But I want him to care again. I want it with a passion.

It's his fault. He didn't trust me enough. He didn't care enough. But the same could be said for me. I didn't trust enough. I didn't care enough either.

Then who am I to say that it's his fault?

Oh, right, because the rest of the student population seems to love that idea. The spiteful ex-war. The godly commander and the horrible ex-girlfriend who was just a silly little cadet in training.

But there aren't any guns blazing. There's no one sabotaging each other in the hallways, there's no one sneaking worms into someone else's lunch. It's all undercover, a stare, a glance, a smile even. It all hurts, those little insignificant movements.

And it will kill me if I don't blitzkrieg back or whatever that Estharian term was. Speaking of which, I should really get that memorized. History next block and a major chapter test on the Estharian civil wars. Whatever happened to organization and straight As? I was at the top of my game and then I just stopped caring.

Just like him. He doesn't care anymore.

Can I please press rewind?

xox Girl in Blue

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

She heaved a soft sigh as she snapped her sleek laptop shut and hastily stuffed the bulky thing into her large, green hand bag and slung it over one shoulder. She glanced half heartedly at her reflection from across her seat on the little cushioned chairs in the bathroom of Balamb Garden and fixed her shiny, straight raven locks that could never look out of place anyway. It was envy-worthy hair, as many of her friends had piped to her as she ran a pale hand through it. She sniffed slightly as a waft of shampoo met her nose and she instantly frowned. Maybe she shouldn't have tried that Owl's Tears stuff after all. It smelt like laundry detergent and she didn't want to smell like a house wife.

The sound of a toilet flushing broke her out of her dazed reverie and she quickly looked away from the mirror and started heading towards the door. However, a flash of blonde caught her gaze and she found herself reluctantly pause in her step, dropping the tube of lip gloss that had been in her other hand. She swallowed, not utterly sure why she was being so nervous and uptight, but bent down to slowly retrieve her possession anyway.

Heels clicking on the cold tiled floor seemed piercingly loud as she straightened herself as gracefully as she could, catching the cool blue eyes of one girl she really did not want to see.

The girl was beautiful, anyone could describe her as such, and she not only had envy-worthy hair to brag about but also envy-worthy grades, envy-worthy nails, envy-worthy legs and of course, the hardest punch to her gut, a envy-worthy boyfriend.

She was the one to break the gaze first, turning her blonde head away to focus on her perfect reflection in the mirror while turning on the tap water. "You'll be late for class if you don't hurry."

She scowled, immediately feeling strangely defensive even though the other young woman had said nothing to purposely attack her. She knew she was acting childish, perhaps a bit too catty, but she couldn't help the anger that boiled immediately to the surface at the smooth voice of the other girl standing a few feet away. Quistis Trepe, a young woman who achieved her SeeD status at the age of 15 and was now sporting a flashy instructor's license at the age of 18. She could only thank all the gods in heaven that she wasn't doomed to be in one of her classes and bit her lip tersely, wondering how to respond.

"I was on my way," she managed stiffly and turned to go. She vaguely felt as if the young instructor had wanted to say something more to her, but she was in no mood to be lectured or even talked to. Especially by Quistis Trepe. Perfect, mature, sophisticated Quistis Trepe. The girl who could do absolutely nothing to her and still spite her anyway.

Probably because of the young man hanging on her arm.

But that was an entirely different story that she would rather throw out the window and hope a blue dragon would trample over it.

"Rinny! Rinny! There you are!"

The girl stopped in her tracks and looked up brightly, glad to have someone distract her from her horrible thoughts. A short, petite girl in a short yellow dress came bounding over towards her, a pair of nunchucks in hand and a red grocery bag in the other.

"Why aren't you in uniform?" The raven haired girl asked immediately, giving a look over her own shoulder. "Trepe is in there and if she sees you I'm sure she'll find it absolutely satisfying to give you an infraction slip."

The shorter girl looked thoughtful before sending the other girl a bright smile. "It doesn't matter. I just got out of field training with Mr. Commander and I'm sure she won't--" the girl paused, noticing the strange look that had fallen on her friend's face and immediately gasped. "Oh, right, no more him talk!" She frowned as she noticed her friend's silence and skipped in front of her. "I'm sorry Rinny! I totally forgot. Honest!"

The raven haired girl sighed and forced a tight smile to stretch across her shiny lips. "Yeah, I know, it just...feels weird sometimes, hearing about him...talking about him...seeing him," she looked skywards and shrugged. "I'm over it though. I can do better, right!" She could hear the false cheeriness in her tone and it made her cringe. She could only hope that Selphie would simply overlook it as she usually did.

"Oh, of course! Definitely! I mean, it didn't work out partly because of him anyway!" Selphie nodded with much vigor before shuffling through her grocery bag to pull out her cadet uniform. "Ew, so if I go in the bathroom now I'll run into her?"

Rinoa giggled at her friend's expression but nodded nonetheless. "Yep, but whatever, she can't control our actions. Anyway, I better hurry to history, I can't miss that test and risk flunking one entirely."

"Okay, well, good luck!" Her friend gave her shoulder a squeeze before turning on her heels to skip towards the bathroom. Rinoa smiled slightly and turned to go on her way again, wondering how her tiny friend could have so much energy bubbling in her so early in the day. She already felt spent and ready to retire into her dorm and bury herself underneath some good magazines and a frap or maybe even a bottle of Raegan. That'd be nice. She could feel like she was back in the old days again, living the high life with someone she thought she really fell in love with.

She gripped the straps of her hand bag tightly and decided to take the stairs up to the second floor classroom. She sucked in a breath and dared herself to look at the gossiping Trepies huddled in the corner of the stairwell, staring at her with their lips moving furiously as she passed them by. She let her eyes scan them lazily, as if she didn't care about a thing in the world, and went on her way. She hoped that her horrendous smelling old granny shampoo would keel them over like Marlboro's breath.

As she stepped into the classroom, still trying to place her unaffected and leveled face mask on, she managed to trip over a pop can that had been lying carelessly on the ground. She let out a little gasp and braced herself for the hard foreboding floor that would eminently embrace her...

Her large, almond shaped eyes were shut tight when she felt that warm pressure of hands on either side of her arms, steadying her. She bit her lip and cracked one eye open to catch the endless chasm that was his eye, his world, the depth of his mind. She felt the breath being knocked out of her petite frame as those azure, stormy eyes glanced at her, with a hint of emotion that she could have swore was there but was now clearly masked over by a look of indifference.

She slowly gained her senses and stepped back quickly, away from his arms, his gloved hands...those hands...she tucked a stray strand of raven hair behind her ear and opened her mouth awkwardly.

"Thanks."

He stared at her, and merely nodded before walking to his seat across the room. She watched him go, cursing herself for being unable to tear her gaze away from his lean form. She blinked her eyes rapidly, hoping she really did have an eyelash or a chunk of mascara floating around in her eye because then she would have a good excuse to look all teary. She scowled mentally and scolded herself for being such a drama queen.

"Miss. Heartilly, would you like to take a seat?"

She jumped slightly at the sharp voice of her teacher and numbly nodded, taking her seat next to a girl with pigtails who practically lived in the library's non-fiction section. Rinoa shuffled around the contents of her bag, looking for her books as the teacher droned on about test times and format. She really hated how she was so unfocused. But she always was, especially in history. He was there. Always there, somewhere sitting behind her. Sometimes she felt as if she could feel his eyes on the back of her head, but that would only be wishful thinking.

Because he didn't care anymore.

She frowned tightly, wondering why he was still studying. He was the damn commander anyway, just a bit young, just a bit too fresh out of training, but commander nonetheless. But then again, she knew why, he had told her before, during one of those nights when they had no classes the next day, no obligations, just themselves and the star speckled sky above them. They would lie there on the grass and talk, or, she would talk, and sometimes, if she was lucky, he would talk too. She shook her head quickly, knowing such thoughts would do absolutely no good to scoring some form of a suitable grade on the test that was now in front of her.

So, she took a deep breath and propped her pen up and glanced at the bolded words on the booklet of paper in front of her.

During the attack of the Great Salt Lake, what was the method of battle that the Estharian soldiers developed? Name three distinct advantages to the technique and three disadvantages.

She shut her eyes and mentally visualized the glossy white pages of her heavy history textbook. There was some sort of a picture on the left hand corner that reminded her of Headmaster Kramer with a frilly wig and a spacesuit, or maybe that was the next chapter...but no, she was pretty sure it was the page with the frilly Cid picture. She unconsciously drummed her fingers on the table until she received a glare from the girl sitting next to her. She stopped and looked blankly down at the next question.

What does the line 'fithos lusec wecos vinosec' translate to and which significant battle resulted in the creation of this song?

That rung a bell, it definitely did. She started uncrossing and crossing her legs when the words wouldn't come to her head. Something about magic? Yes, something evil? Magic and witches. Something like that. But she could have sworn there was something more deep and fancy to it. Not just bluntly- magic and witches. She started nibbling the tip of her pen in exasperation as she shut her eyes again.

She instantly regretted doing so when she saw him again, this time, much closer, much more tangible, even if it was only her imagination. She could see the way his hair fell in his eyes, her habit of brushing those strands aside and kissing the bridge of his nose just to tease him in front of everyone else. She knew he said he didn't like her public show of affection but she knew he loved it anyway.

Or so she thought...

Maybe that's another reason why he broke up with you, idiot! She chided herself and rolled her eyes skywards. Then it suddenly came back to her that she was trying to sit a history test and immediately her heart rate picked up and she knew she was going to fail miserably. It was there, right in front of her, thirty questions she had no clue how to answer and she knew it was futile to even try.

Why had she come to class when she knew she wasn't prepared?

She hadn't studied. Not much anyway. She had read a bit of the summary when she was in the bathroom trying to clear her migraine. Maybe she had a bit too much to drink yesterday with her new beau, her new lover, her way of trying to attract attention. She sighed and grasped the roots of her hair in agitation. Who was she trying to fool? She was tripping over herself and ruining her own life because of one stupid boy who didn't care about her anymore and who was probably flipping through the test booklet for the fifth time already, rechecking answers to make sure he got that 100 that was only worthy of his commander status.

She shut her eyes one last time and knew she really didn't have to put up with it anymore.

With a sigh, she pushed her chair back, letting out a noisy screech, and grabbed her bag and books. Mr. Norg had barely realized what his student was doing until she was already halfway through the door.

"Miss. Heartilly? Miss. Heartilly!"

She didn't care. She didn't have to waste her time failing a test when she could do something more productive. She glanced at the elevator and decided to take the stairs again. Maybe that way she could burn more of those empty carbs she was feeling still bubbling in her stomach from all the drinks she had the night before. She started her descent and paused, halfway down the second floor stairwell only to look back at the classroom, a forlorn look reflected in her deep, chocolate eyes.

Eyes to others who looked only stoned and totally tanked, eyes of a girl who got dumped and didn't really know how to pick herself back up.

Eyes of a girl who only wanted that feeling of love again.

She smiled, a bitter smile as those thoughts ran through her mind.

Suck it up, princess, suck it up.

AN: First chapter, short and sweet. Hope to hear your thoughts and opinions ;) Until next time.