»Part Six: Click Button «

"Alright, guys, you're free to go," Mr. Chmura said as he dismissed our class. I gathered my things and wrote down the homework, making sure not to miss anything important. But just as we were leaving, Mr. Chmura called after Ed. "Will you be joining us again tomorrow?" He questioned.

Ed and I looked at each other for a second. Neither of us had thought of that before, nor did we know the answer.

"Not sure," Ed shrugged, "I don't know if I'll ever be back."

"Oh," said Mr. Chmura, sounding both surprised and upset. "Well, it was nice to have you in class."

Ed smiled and waved goodbye as we walked out the door.

"Now what?"

"Let's see..." I popped open my assignment notebook and looked at my schedule, even though I already had it memorized. "It's time for Directed Study."

"What's that?"

"It's like free time, sort of," I suggested, "Only you pretty much have to do your homework."

"Heh, what if you don't have any homework?" He grinned.

"Then you can do mine." I laughed girlishly and ran ahead.

"Hey, wait!" Ed reached after me, "That's not—"

I had stopped in front of the stairs, half waiting for Ed, the other half waiting for—HIM.

"Why'd you stop?" Ed asked.

I hardly paid attention. I was too busy focused on Click Button, a boy at my school who I had had a crush on since the sixth grade. Every morning after Biology or Math, I would see him coming down the hall, always right before me walking down the stairs. Sometimes he would even talk to me, but he was pretty friendly like that to everyone. I blushed as he walked by.

"Who's that guy?" Stupid Ed. He could never understand this level of teenage-crushes. Heck, he couldn't even hook up with Winry! I kicked him abruptly in the shin for the third time that day. "Can you please stop that already! It was cute the first time, now it's just getting old."

"Shut up." I ordered quickly. Click heard. He turned around.

"Hey, InsertMysteryPetNameThatClickCallsMe!" Click chirped, peppy as usual. "Ha's it goin'?"

"Good," I said, almost to myself. Normally I would make a face, showing that I was scared, but for some reason I had courage to answer.

"Who's shorty over there?" He pointed to Ed, who was still standing behind me. Click was too friendly and chipper to mean anything when he said 'shorty,' but you know Ed...

"What'd you call me?" Ed murmured coldly, clenching both his hands into fists. Even though he was steaming mad, he remained firmly where he was. The reason for his odd and almost calm behavior? Simple... I was pinching the back of his left wrist between my right index finger and thumb, threatening to use my dangerously long nails if he went too crazy in front of Click. Ed was trembling and I could almost see him going blind with rage as he struggled to contain himself.

"Nah, I was just messin' with ya," Click said in a laid-back voice. He punched Ed playfully on the shoulder (the left one, thankfully) and smiled. "Lighten up!"

"Why you---AHH!" Ed yelped in pain as I was forced to dig my nails into his arm. His right hand automatically slapped over his wrist, doubling as a sort of ice pack for the 'wound.'

"We have to go now," I announced in an embarrassed tone, pushing Ed into the hallway leading downstairs. "Nice.. um... seeing you, okay bye!"

"Okay," Click agreed. He scratched the back of his head with his hand and walked back down the hall in the opposite direction.

I sighed and leaned against the wall, almost forgetting my anger towards Ed. Almost.

"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING! EMBARRASSING ME IN FRONT OF CLICK, HOW COULD YOU?" Ed was still rubbing his wrist. It looked pink and a bit swollen. I hadn't meant to hurt him... Okay, I did. But then I kinda started to feel bad for him—my nails were pretty sharp. "Um... sorry... about your wrist."

"Huh? Oh, yeah," He put each hand back into its designated pocket.

"Need a band-aid?" I offered, even though I didn't have one.

He shook his head. "No, it's my fault." he breathed. "I have a short temper..."

"Tch, could'a fooled me." he shot me a dirty look. I could tell that I was pushing the envelope. "Sorry, sarcastic reflex."

There was a silence. Moments later we both started laughing at our excuses. The Directed Study bell chimed.

"C'mon," I started walking down the stairs, "We gotta get to my locker before 9:10 or else we'll be late again."

"I'm right behind you!" He trotted alongside me, this time to my left; both of us acting as if nothing had ever happened. Sure he was short-tempered, stubborn and often very annoying, but he was not the kind of person you could hold something against. Or at least, I couldn't, anyway.