Author's Note: Hey all! This chapter is going to read differently than my usual stuff. It's light and quick moving, without the typical emotional depth I (try to) put into my work (well, I guess the last scene isn't light). That's because this is a plot chapter. I'm just dumping information on you that will be important later, sprinkling it with some humor in an attempt to make it enjoyable, regardless. Seriously, it's like 80% dialog XD I'm trying to make this as painless as possible XD In a way, it's lazy writing, and I am sorry for that, but I'm just focusing my efforts where they will be the most effective.

(Hey, me! Nice excuses! Do you think they bought it? :P)

Anyway, this chapter is about classes, and also contains some friction between Amy and Izzy.

Also, FYI, CS is used here as an acronym for "computer sciences." College students speak in a mysterious language where every fourth word is an acronym. True story.

Skipping Grades

It was one of those rare evenings where their entire group ended up in the cafeteria at the same time, slowly congregating at a corner table after choosing their dinners. Matt looked up and smiled as Sora took the seat beside him. Tai sat next to her, and Izzy and Amy filled in the seats opposite the bassist and his girlfriend. Finally, Joe and Mimi approached, and Mimi sat beside Amy, leaving the seat on her other side for Joe.

Joe and Amy had the annoying habit of fretting over schoolwork whenever they were together, and, sure enough, they were soon leaning forward over their food, talking around Mimi. Sora shot him an imploring look, and Matt cast about for some way to get Amy's attention, breaking off her high-stress conversation with Joe.

"Izzy," he said loudly, knowing that Amy couldn't resist that name. Sure enough, her eyes flicked away from Joe's the second it was uttered, latching onto Matt's. He grinned softly, enjoying the feeling of being proven right.

Mimi, bless her, instantly took the opportunity to engage Joe in something else, leaning closer to him and draping her elbow and forearm over his thigh. Matt had no clue what she was doing with her hands beneath the table, and he was happier that way. Joe's long face was reddening before his eyes.

Unfortunately, Matt had no idea how to follow up on his opening, and he frowned as Izzy's brow began to rise. "Uh," he stammered, cursing mentally for his lack of smoothness. "So, have you started studying for finals yet?" Sora tensed beside him, and Matt had to swallow a sigh. That was a terrible maneuver, as it left too much room for Amy to jump right back into the previous topic. Nice going, slick, he thought, picking savagely at a slice of tomato in his wrap. He tsked impatiently as a large chunk of chicken fell out, landing on his plate with a gross smacking sound.

"They're a month away," Izzy replied, further raising that stupid eyebrow. "There's no need for that level of preparation." Amy's eyes widened, and Matt couldn't help but wonder if Izzy realized that it sounded like he was taking a jab at her. I wonder if he actually is, he thought, focusing on his food as he rolled the meat back inside the wrap. Since Izzy had been nothing but kind to Amy as a boyfriend so far, Matt gave him the benefit of the doubt and assumed that this was more of his patented lack of social polish.

Sora must have been thinking the same thing, because she pushed her hair behind her ear, a nervous twitch of hers, and forced a smile. "You know, Izzy, I don't think I've ever noticed you studying. Unless your notes are on your computer?"

Sighing, Izzy slid some of the greens around on his plate, set his fork down, then picked it back up and began mauling the salad with renewed vigor. The hell? Matt wondered, sharing a glance with Sora in his peripheral vision. Amy reached for Izzy and patted his shoulder, smiling encouragingly. They held each other's eyes for a long moment, and Matt couldn't help but be impressed by how quickly they had learned to communicate non-vocally. Izzy sighed once more, then turned his glance towards Sora.

"I don't study," he said bluntly. Then he speared a radish and popped it into his mouth, as if being engaged in eating could exempt him from participating in the conversation. Matt could see why; even Izzy had to be aware that he had just said something that made him sound pompous, but Matt suspected that he was just answering the question honestly. Amy seemed to think that Izzy was an incredible brainiac, and, despite her often ditsy behavior, she was the smartest person Matt knew, so her opinion on the matter weighed heavily.

Tai made a disgruntled sound around a mouthful of greasy pepperoni pizza. Amy, who loved pizza to an almost disturbing degree, wouldn't even touch the stuff at the cafeteria, and she edged back as the slice folded over in Tai's hands, flicking yellow-orange droplets in her direction.

"Wish I were a genius," Tai complained, his mouth smacking around the food mid-sentence. "It would be nice to not have to study."

Matt and Amy snorted in unison, and Amy immediately cursed and threw her hands over her nose. Izzy leaned into her and rubbed her back soothingly, his lips edging towards a smile as he offered her a napkin. Matt began to laugh out loud as he realized that Amy had snorted cola up her nose in her mirth. Sora, having less experience with Amy's strange mishaps, was watching them with confusion, but smiling at Tai's words all the while.

"What?" Tai said defensively, scowling at the lot of them.

"You don't study now, so what's the difference?" Matt explained, wiping his eyes. Tai grunted, violently tore off another bite of pizza, and chewed loudly.

"Whatever," he muttered at length. "I'm studying now, so…" Izzy shook his head minutely, a subtle indication of doubt, and Amy dropped her fork on top of a saucy mound of spaghetti. Without missing a beat, Izzy offered her yet another napkin, and Matt marveled at how quickly the redhead had learned to pick up enough of them for four people every time he sat down to eat with Amy.

They were, of course, entirely justified in their misgivings. To Matt's knowledge, Tai had spent all of fifteen minutes with an open textbook in the last week, and finals were only a month away. Matt almost wished that there were fewer witnesses, or that they were tipsy, or that Tai had baited him. When they were in middle school, he would have happily ripped Tai a new one at the drop of a hat, regardless of the environment, but he was more subtle these days, and he needed a reason to lay a verbal smack down in public.

As such, no one acknowledged Tai's weak assertion, and a silence fell over the table. Matt buried his teeth into his wrap, hardly tasting the vegetables and chicken. He hated eating cafeteria food, and he couldn't wait until they were sophomores, and weren't required to purchase a meal plan. The vegetables were watery and bland, and, if he closed his eyes, he doubted that he could differentiate between them by taste alone. The chicken was dry and over-salted.

A murmur from across the table was a welcome distraction, and it had him glancing up at Amy, who was leaning into Izzy. "I've been meaning to ask," she breathed, rotating her shoulder so that it stood between her and everyone else at the table, "have you tried to talk to the advisers about your schedule? I know it's not challenging enough for you right now."

Although Amy was clearly trying to limit the conversation to herself and her boyfriend, almost everyone was looking in their direction, and Matt could see faint color building in Izzy's cheeks. Matt considered forcing a conversation with Sora or Tai to take attention away from the two of them, but, well... He wanted to hear this, too. It seemed like a straight forward suggestion, and he suddenly wondered why Izzy hadn't done just that.

Izzy frowned into his plate, picked up a small container of dressing, and fussed with it, lifting stray droplets from the plastic with his fork, as if hoping that someone else would answer if he just stalled long enough. But no help was forthcoming, and his shoulders fell by degrees. "I believe I told you that I began this semester in the most advanced classes into which the advisers were willing to admit me."

"Well, yes, but..." Amy's eyes flicked down the table, and Matt realized that she had discovered her audience. Sighing internally, Matt turned away from her in an instant and began murmuring to Sora, hardly knowing what he was saying. It must have been nonsense, because Sora grinned wryly, shook her head, and began to describe a new design to him. Matt looked her in the eye and nodded every now and then, but he was listening to Amy and Izzy, taking the palm suddenly running along the inside of his thigh as tacit permission to do just that. Thankfully, Tai was engaged in a friendly argument with Mimi, and was staying out of this.

"I don't think the advisers have ever dealt with someone like you, Izzy. I mean, there are people like me, who get good grades just because they study like crazy-" Thankfully, Izzy provided the snort of disagreement that Matt wanted to supply, but Amy ignored it. "And then there are people who are naturally gifted. But, lots of those smart people spend their whole life drifting along on their talent, staying in step with the hard workers without the effort. But you… You say you aren't studying, but really, you spend all of your free time programming, doing math, or reading about science. You purposefully hone your natural talents every day. I bet that, if you could just talk the advisers into letting you take the finals for the more advanced classes, you'd tear them apart, and then you could place out of some more courses. You could wrap up your bachelor's degree early, and do more interesting things."

Matt was dying to take a look at the two of them, but he didn't want to make his eavesdropping too obvious. There was a pause, and then Izzy spoke in a bland, disinterested tone. "Perhaps there is some merit to that plan." Sora's fingers gripped his thigh, and she frowned, no doubt thinking what Matt was thinking. Izzy was just agreeing to bring the topic to a polite close. Although Matt had no idea why Izzy wasn't more interested in Amy's suggestion, he was grateful. What was Amy doing, encouraging Izzy to leave their college early? There seemed to be occasional tension between the two of them, probably due to Amy's romantic history and Izzy's standoffish nature, but she adored the little redhead. Matt would hate to see her brokenhearted over his early departure from their university.

"Say," Amy said, and Matt tried not to frown at the forced cheerfulness in her voice. "Didn't you finish a program a little while ago? And you've been testing it?"

"Testing?" Sora interrupted. Apparently his girlfriend judged this topic as safer than the last, and she jumped on an opportunity to join the conversation, instead of awkwardly listening to it. Matt went ahead and turned towards the two nerdlets, trusting her call.

"Yeah!" Amy said brightly, and Matt grinned when he recognized her pleasure at sharing what she had learned from Izzy. "That's when you try to break your program over and over, and then fix it when it crashes." Izzy produced an oddly indulgent smile, then shook his head slightly. Matt could only imagine that Amy had given an incredibly oversimplified explanation.

"Yes, I have been testing it," Izzy said. "Why do you ask?"

Amy hesitated, then began to pick at her spaghetti, trying to coax the thin noodles onto her fork. Matt felt his attention sharpening on her. There was just something awkward about her inquiries, somehow. "Well… You said you used some new stuff you learned from your books in that program. Is it working okay for you?"

Izzy's dark eyes narrowed slightly, and Matt couldn't help but wonder if the redhead was picking up on the same signals that he was noticing. The averted eyes, the curtain of hair falling over her shoulder, blocking off more and more of her face from view… All signs that something was brewing in Amy's head, something that she wanted to keep to herself.

"Well, I am uncovering issues in the code, of course, but on the whole… Yes, it seems to be performing well." Izzy reached for his girlfriend, then glanced at the rest of them and withdrew his hand, looking somewhat sheepish. Matt swallowed the tsking sound making its way up his throat. Clearly, Izzy had never seen Tai with a love interest in public. Now that would really offend the redhead's delicate sensibilities.

Amy tossed her head, throwing her hair back behind her back. Her eyes were animated with a spark of excitement, and she leaned in close to Izzy, causing him to clear his throat and edge back slightly. "And you're proud of it?" she demanded, losing all traces of her forced nonchalance.

"I, I suppose?" Izzy stammered. Matt had to admit that he was just as baffled as Izzy, but he was, as usual, inclined to jump to Amy's aid. Before Izzy could ask what Amy's questions were about, he changed the subject. Sora latched onto the new topic, easing the transition, and Amy smiled at the both of them with naked gratitude behind Izzy's back.

Gorgeous, Matt thought as he listened to Sora, I have no idea what you're up to. I hope you know what you're doing.

A Few Days Later

Izzy was walking down a hall in a computer science building when an unfamiliar voice called his name. He paused and turned, then made his way to the wall in order to allow for traffic, an almost entirely male crowd of students making their way to the nearest exit after class. An adult man with wispy, light brown hair was standing in a doorway and making beckoning motions in his direction. Izzy waited for a gap in the crowd, then backtracked towards the unknown professor, wondering what this was about all the while.

Truth be told, he was annoyed. This was his last class of the day, and he was looking forward to heading back to the dorm. Joe still had two more classes, which meant that he could invite Amy to his room and give her the affection that he had been withholding due to lack of privacy. Of course, she would likely shy away from anything more than a few soft, sweet kisses, but Izzy would take what he could get.

Assuming, of course, that this infernal professor would make this encounter quick.

"So," the man said as he approached, "you are Isaac Williams, right?" Izzy nodded stiffly, then followed him into the room. It was a tiny office, filled to bursting with bookshelves and an enormous desk. There was a general air of shabbiness to the room, except for the computer and monitors on the desk, which were top of the line. Izzy squeezed through the small gap between the desk and the wall, where an uncomfortable-looking chair was waiting for visitors. The man gestured towards it, and so he sat, which placed him in front of a plaque bearing the name Dr. Louis Edwards.

Dr. Edwards made himself comfortable in the worn, but cushy chair behind the desk. The man looked to be in his early fifties, his face lightly lined with wrinkles, particularly on his brow, which was mostly exposed beneath his thinning hair. He wore thick glasses and a drab, gray blazer, and had a general appearance of being worn and haphazard, except that his eyes were keen and alert.

"Good, good," he muttered, picking up a thumb drive from the surface of his desk. Izzy frowned as he recognized the brand. Odd, that's the exact type of jump drive that I use when I need to physically share files, since it's cheap and low capacity. I thought they stopped selling them.

"I hope you don't mind, Isaac-"

"Izzy," the redhead corrected automatically. Dr. Edwards blinked, then continued as if he hadn't been interrupted.

"I took the liberty of looking up your student ID photo and schedule. I figured you'd be going through my hall at this time, since your class nearby just let out." Izzy fought to keep his expression neutral, but he could feel his lips drawing down into a disturbed frown. Those were quite possibly the creepiest sentences he had ever heard. His fingers began to drum awkwardly against his knees.

"O-oh?" he managed. "Can I, uh, help you with something?"

The professor grinned and plugged the thumb drive into the computer tower. "You don't seem to know what this is about," he said, tilting a monitor around to face Izzy. "This is why I'm interested in you."

Izzy instantly recognized his latest program, and he could feel his eyebrows rising. Dr. Edwards began to laugh, leaning back into his chair for support.

"If only you could see your face!" he cried, rotating the monitor back around. "Obviously, that girl didn't mention a word of this to you."

"G-girl?" Izzy stammered. His shock seemed to be short-circuiting his brain, and he had no idea what was going on here.

The man shrugged carelessly. "Don't remember her name. Long brown hair. Tall-ish. Pale."

It sure sounded like Amy- and really, what other girl would have access to his program?- but Izzy pulled out his phone for verification anyway. He brought up a picture of her, then handed it to the professor. "That's her," he confirmed. "Your girlfriend, then?"

"Yes," Izzy said slowly, pocketing the phone. "But I don't understand why she would give you that flash drive."

"Kids these days," the professor said, sighing. "Let me explain. My name is Dr. Edwards, and I teach some of the more advanced CS undergrad classes, along with some of the lower level grad classes. I also do some advising work here and there. I happened to be early for a meeting with a student in the CS advising area when I overheard that girl arguing with an adviser."

Izzy stared blankly at Dr. Edwards, then sighed and slid his face into his hands. What in the world was Amy thinking, raising a fuss in the CS department? "That's rather difficult for me to picture," he admitted, not knowing how else to respond. Amy didn't particularly strike him as an arguer, unless you counted her occasional friendly tiffs with Tai and Matt.

The professor's thin lips twisted into a wry grin. "She was polite and calm, but damned persistent. She said that she knew a student who was far too clever for the 200 level classes, who should be taking more advanced material. The advisers have heard that before, as you can imagine, and they weren't interested in her story. But…" He shrugged, then scratched the back of his head. "I don't know what to tell you, Izzy. She was really selling your ass, and, when she mentioned that she had a program you had made on her… Well, I was curious." He smirked at Izzy, who felt himself edging back into his chair and turning red. While he could appreciate Amy's support, especially when he knew that she probably had difficulty asserting herself to the advisers, he really wished that she hadn't gone behind his back like this. It left him exposed and unprepared for this uncomfortable encounter, and his irritation was rapidly building.

"She made you sound like the Michelangelo of the programming world," the professor continued cheerfully. A thin groan made its way through Izzy's fingers, and Dr. Edwards slapped a hand against his knee. At least one of us is enjoying this, Izzy thought darkly. "Of course, I expected that she was exaggerating, but… Frankly, I've been looking for strong students to help me with my research, so I promised her I would take a good look at your program."

Sighing, Izzy dropped his hands and raised a brow at the professor. He was feeling incredibly annoyed and resigned at this point. It sounded like his only reward for this embarrassment would be a low paying job offer, if he was lucky. The professor might expect him to do it for free.

Dr. Edwards leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. "Frankly, you've got more knowledge, skill, and talent than most working professionals holding CS graduate degrees. At first, I didn't believe that an undergrad could have put together something so thoughtful and innovative. You bridged and utilized concepts that most adults in the field haven't even heard of. I had some talks with your current professors, and I saw a more restricted form of the same skill in your assignments. As far as I can tell, you're either an incredible programmer, or an even better charlatan."

Izzy stared at the professor for a long moment. He had always suspected that he was a strong programmer, purely by virtue of the amount of time he dedicated to it, but he never would have thought that his work would garner this level of praise. Perhaps I should pay more attention to the aptitude of my peers, he realized. It would seem that I'm running circles around them, if this man is a reliable guide.

"I'm going to ask you a series of questions typically asked in job interviews for applicants holding a master's degree," Dr. Edwards continued. "If you do as well as I expect you to, then I have a proposition for you. You placed out of the 100 level classes for math and CS, and you're just now completing the early 200 levels. I can pull some strings and get you into the latter half of the 300 level classes, placing you in the second half of the junior year for your majors next semester."

Izzy's hands fastened around his knees like vices. "Then- Then, I could finish my major requirements by the end of my sophomore year." Possibilities rushed through his mind, flashing before him like a story in the pages of a book. He could have an interesting job sooner, he could perhaps find better opportunities under the guidance of an academic figure, he could be challenged, stretch his faculties…! He leaned forward, moving his hands to the edge of the desk.

Dr. Edwards shrugged, clearly unaffected by the rush Izzy was experiencing. "In theory, I suppose. But you'd need to complete your core classes and amass the required number of credits. You'd probably have to take classes during the summer and winter semesters to get it all done. I saw that you're here on full scholarship, but I have no idea if it would apply in this scenario. You'll have to iron out those details on your own with the appropriate people. I'm only lifting restrictions on what you can take and giving you the credits for the classes I'm exempting you from. But, of course, nothing is free. I do want something in return for all of the paperwork and groveling and phone calls this will entail."

And here we are, Izzy thought, fighting to keep his expression neutral as he crashed back down to earth. Here's where I have to decide if completing my degree early will be worth becoming this man's programming slave. Outwardly, he merely nodded, inviting the man to continue.

"As I said before, I need an undergrad to help me with my research. Given my budget, I was originally planning to hire three kids at eight dollars and hour. But, bluntly, you're capable of getting much more done than my three best grad students, so I'd be happy to pay you $24 an hour to work for me for as long as you benefit from my assistance."

There was a long pause, during which Izzy stared, bemused, at the older man. Many undergrads, particularly those of talent, may not have recognized the value of this offer, but Izzy was generally wise as well as intelligent. With that kind of paycheck, he could save money. Although Izzy was neither greedy nor materialistic, he did recognize the value of having funds, and he was always careful about making, saving, and using cash wisely. And it hadn't escaped his notice that having a girlfriend could be costly, and that Amy never seemed to have any money, herself. Overall, this condition of working for Dr. Edwards seemed as beneficial as the offer.

"I have questions," Izzy said at last, scooting his chair closer to the desk, "but I am most definitely interested."

Next Scene

The phone went straight to voice mail. Again.

Sighing, Amy cut the call off and placed her cell on her desk, then stared blankly at her orgo textbook, seeing nothing. Things weren't going well at all, and she was beginning to seriously panic.

Four days ago, she had made an ass of herself at the computer sciences advising department, trying to get Izzy into classes that matched his skill level. Three days ago, Izzy dropped off the face of the planet, but Amy was too busy studying to notice at first. Two days ago, it occurred to her that she hadn't seen her boyfriend for a while, but she couldn't find him, and Joe seemed just as perplexed as her. Apparently, Izzy came in the room after Joe went to bed and left before he rose, leaving Amy no clues to the reason for his sudden scarceness. Yesterday, Amy's confusion gave way to full-on panic. Izzy was on campus, Joe was able to confirm that much, but none of her friends had seen him, and she didn't want to turn into some creeper who watched the computer sciences buildings when his classes let out.

Today, her heart had plunged into something akin to mourning.

Izzy was mad because she had interfered in his life, and he wasn't even giving her a chance to explain herself or plead her case. That was the only explanation Amy could come up with, although it failed to explain why he wasn't eating and sleeping at his habitual hours. This only served to compound her nerves. Had she upset him so much that he stopped eating and found excuses to stay away from the dorm?

Amy crossed her arms on the surface of the desk, buried her face in them, and fought the urge to cry. This had to be karma kicking her in the tush for going behind Izzy's back. It was unlike her to go poking her nose in someone else's business, especially in such a clandestine way, but she just hadn't been able to stop herself. It wasn't right for Izzy to waste his time on low level classes when he could probably outperform most of the CS professors, and, for some reason, he wasn't willing to address the issue.

Even so, I was wrong, she realized, rubbing her face against the soft weave of her sweater. I was so focused on what needed to be done, I got sloppy about the execution, and now Izzy won't even talk to me. Amy was fairly sure that she hadn't done anything immoral by talking to the advisers without asking Izzy first, but something could be really annoying and invasive without being wrong. Her eyes began to burn, and she sniffed and raised her head, not wanting to cover her sweater with snot.

And, in that exact moment, her dorm room's door was torn open. Startled, Amy jumped towards her desk, gutting herself on its edge. Pain exploded through her body, and her overtaxed emotions bubbled over with this latest pressure. Thus, when Izzy entered the room and locked the door behind him, he found her doubled over in her chair, with snot and tears appearing on her face.

He was beside her in an instant, wiping her cheeks with tissues from the box on her desk. "Amy, what's wrong?!" he demanded, tilting her head back for clearer access to her nose. Amy colored as he dabbed at it. She batted his hand away and took the tissue, attending to her snot on her own. It would figure that Izzy found her looking like this after a three day separation…

"I hurt my stomach," she gasped. Of course, she wasn't lying; slamming her gut into the fake wood had hurt like the dickens, but that was only part of the problem here.

Izzy's dark eyes bore into hers, and Amy swallowed hard, unsure what to make of his intensity. "Frightening you wasn't my intention," he said at last. "I sincerely apologize. I was overexcited. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. No lasting damage." Amy wanted to ask what he was so worked up about, but she was too nervous and distraught by his sudden appearance. Her mind grasped about for a safe, light topic, and she managed half a smile when it landed on something. She opened the top drawer of her desk, extracted a thumb drive, and held it out towards Izzy. He reached for it automatically, then stared down into his palm, a red eyebrow rising steadily.

"I borrowed one of your flash drives, but I don't... I don't have it anymore. I'm really sorry. I'm replacing it. This is a better one, anyway." Izzy didn't make any move to pocket her offering, and Amy frowned and reached for his hands, intending to close his fingers around it. She froze halfway, remembering that Izzy probably didn't want to be touched right now. She folded her arms over her lap, painfully aware of how awkward the silence between them was.

Maybe she shouldn't have brought up the flash drive, after all. Amy meant to return it when she took it from Izzy's desk, but Dr. Edwards still had it, and she was fairly sure that she wouldn't be getting it back. Izzy had to know what happened to his thumb drive by now, so she was just reminding him of how she had wronged him. But, what could she do? She had to replace what she had lost.

"S-sorry," she muttered, not knowing what else to say. Although she had missed him these last few days, Amy found that she couldn't seem to look at Izzy. Truth be told, she wanted to turn her chair around and bend back over her book, as if turning her attention to something else would make this problem disappear. But Izzy was standing too close for her to maneuver without smacking into either him or the desk.

A hand landed on her shoulder, and Amy reluctantly looked up at her boyfriend. His facial muscles were drawn tight, despite his neutral expression. "Would you care to sit down with me?" he asked, nodding towards her bed. Baffled, Amy babbled an acceptance, then sat beside him on her comforter.

For a while, there was more of that awful silence, broken at last by an unconscious sigh from Amy. She had no idea what was going on at this point, but he looked as worried and guilty as she felt, and she couldn't figure out why for the life of her.

"I don't need this jump drive," he said gently, extending his hand to her. "I have plenty. You're welcome to them, should you ever have the need."

"That's not the point. I took one, so I'm replacing it." Amy was dimly aware that she was being a bit too uptight, but it couldn't be helped. When it got into her head that she should do something, particularly if it touched on her principles, she could grow extremely stubborn about it.

The tiny muscles under Izzy's eyes bunched up, and he withdrew his hand. "I apologize, Amy. I know you're upset."

Amy stared at him for a a long moment, then shook her head. "Wait, but- I thought you were mad at me. And that's why you haven't spoken to me lately." Her hands went to her hair, trailing through it nervously. "I, I left messages apologizing," she pointed out, her voice inflecting upward with something whining and plaintive. She grimaced at the annoying sound. "When you didn't respond to those, either, I just... I thought..."

A thick eyebrow rose, then lowered harshly. "Being angry with someone is not an acceptable reason to completely cut contact for three days, especially when they attempt to repair the damage in the interim." Izzy's voice was hard and demanding, like a disapproving adult trying to capture a child's complete attention. His hand closed on hers, wrapping around her palm and squeezing.

"I don't understand what's going on here," Amy complained, staring at their connected hands. Her energy and vitality seemed to seep right out of her as each exchange confused her further. If she understood things correctly, it seemed that Izzy was scolding himself, and she had no clue what that could mean.

Izzy sighed, then angled his body so that he was staring out of her window. Amy watched his profile, loving the sight of his pronounced, heavy brow, creating contrast with his sloping jawline. She wanted to run her hands down his face, and she colored when she caught herself following that vision with one of using her lips instead. Why did she have to go all romantic and gooey when there was so much snapping, flickering tension between them? And seriously, who went around wanting to assault faces with affection? There had to be something wrong with her.

"I rushed to you with the intent of begging your forgiveness, half expecting to find myself single. Instead... Instead, I find you in the same state, failing to recognize that you were wronged." He finally turned to her, all grimness and consternation. "I'm afraid I don't understand what's going on here anymore than you do."

"Uh?" Amy inched away from Izzy, unable to digest his seriousness. "Um, maybe if you started at the beginning? What have you been doing since I last saw you?"

Izzy's eyes went unfocused, giving him a strange, dazed look. Amy leaned closer with concern, pressing a hand to his shoulder. Her boyfriend was typically rapt and attentive, but, now that she was focused, she noticed that he seemed bleary and listless. "The better question is, what haven't I been doing? I'm grateful for all of the activity, of course, given the results, but I'm afraid it's taken a toll on me. I believe I'm not quite feeling well."

"You're pale!" Amy realized. Her hands cupped his face, tilting it towards her, and she gasped when she noticed a sallowness and tightness to his skin. "And- Stars! Izzy, how did you manage to lose weight in three days?!"

"Oh?" Izzy murmured, glancing down at his body. "Ah, have I really? Joe will be upset."

"Izzy," Amy said slowly, steeling herself with a deep breath. "Have you been eating?"

"Of course," Izzy snapped, but his eyes only narrowed for half a moment. "I had- Just the other-" He paused, tilted his head, and raised his hands to hers, stroking them thoughtfully. "Ah. Hmm. This might explain my light-headedness."

"Izzy!" Amy stood and pulled him up, her panic spiking as he tripped over his own feet. She firmly wrapped an arm around his waist and led him towards the door, supporting him on the way. He was alarmingly light. "I can't believe you sometimes! What could possibly be so important that you don't eat? Stars, Izzy, do you have any idea how much this scares me?"

"I see we're taking a walk," Izzy muttered, ignoring her scolding. An incensed shiver overtook Amy's body, and she felt an odd, ripping sensation in her chest. Her free hand rose, rubbing at it like a person with heartburn.

"Cafeteria. Now." Amy was too engulfed by her worry and fury to notice the growling in her voice. And she certainly didn't realize how strange she looked, dragging around a boy who was almost half a foot shorter than her like a rag doll. There were people in the study lounge that stood between her dorm room and the elevator, and they turned to look at them, but she strode right by without seeing a thing, closed the door behind her, then wailed on the elevator call button. It produced the cracking sound of abused plastic as her vehemence grew.

Izzy's hand closed around hers, pulling it away from the panel. Her eye twitched as he looked up, meeting her glance. "I truly apologize for my extended absence," he said, his voice quiet and subdued. "I've been constantly speaking to advisers, financial personnel, professors, administration… I was so swept up in my preparations that I'm afraid I tuned out everything unrelated to adjusting my schedule as a result of recent events. I spent most of my time after business hours working on various end-of-the-semester programming projects, both solo and group."

The elevator chose that moment to open with an obnoxious ding, and Amy used entering it as a way to stall. It was so difficult to organize her thoughts when searing heat was running through her veins. True anger was a rare visitor within her body, and she had a way of stumbling all over it whenever it dropped by. "So- So, uh, Dr. Edwards spoke to you…?" she asked, forcing herself not to give her opinion on his skewed priorities. At this point, she had forgotten that he was probably mad about her encounter with the professor.

"Three days ago, yes," Izzy said, pressing the round '1' button. The downward motion of the cabin swished Amy's stomach for a moment, irritating her further. "He told me about your… visit to the advising department. Apparently, he was impressed with my program, and has offered me the clearance I need to take my classes such that I can complete my B.S. by the end of our sophomore year. He also offered me a high paying, very interesting research position beneath him. And, for all of this, I have you to thank."

He sighed and blew a raspberry. His eyes went wide, indicating that he hadn't meant to do so; apparently he had just exhaled hard enough to produce that sound. The elevator door opened, and Izzy immediately walked out, swaying slightly with the first step. Amy followed, feeling suddenly anxious. She was beginning to remember that her boyfriend might be mad at her, and her anger was beginning to burn itself out, turning to worry. "That- That's good, right?" she called. Izzy opened the lobby door and stood aside, giving her room to walk through.

"It's prodigious," he said, and, despite everything, Amy couldn't help but smile. She just loved it when he said that, and she was glad that her interference had at least helped. Maybe he wasn't mad, after all?

"I'm sorry I went behind your back like that, Izzy. I really am. I just wanted you to be happy and get the recognition and education you deserve. I meant well, I promise. But I realize now that I should have been more upfront about it, but… Well, I was afraid you'd try to stop me. Are you mad?" Her hand landed hesitantly on his shoulder, trying to gauge his reaction. He shifted uncomfortably, but put his hand on hers, dragging it down to his elbow. Taking the hint, Amy dropped into stride with him, holding his arm.

"I'm afraid I'd be lying if I said that I felt no anger at all. Frankly, the conversation with Dr. Edwards was very uncomfortable, due to my lack of information. And what you did… It was invasive, Amy. Very invasive. That's been troubling me."

Amy's hand tightened, creasing the thick fabric of his green pullover. Her stomach began to writhe as she absorbed his criticism. He was completely right, and she knew it. "I'm so sorry," she repeated. "Sometimes, when I'm doing things for my family, I… I go a little overboard. I'm always so careful to be upright when I do things for myself, but I get so overemotional and intense about it when it's you guys."

"Family?" Izzy echoed, raising a brow. At this point, the two of them were nearing the cafeteria, and Amy picked up the pace. Izzy's stomach growled massively, and she wanted to get food in him immediately.

"Uh, yeah," she said, distracted by her worries for Izzy. "You know. The people I love." The door to the cafeteria was in view, and her attention focused on it completely, blocking out everything else. "Tai and Kari, Matt and TK. Mimi. You. And maybe Joe and Sora, I want to love them, too, but it's hard, you know? They're such good people, though, I really should try harder to let go…" Someone tossed the door back open behind them, and her hand closed on its edge, holding it open to admit the two of them.

There was a slight pause, but Amy was too busy hauling Izzy towards the food to notice. The cafeteria was laid out like an oval, with various stands around the perimeter. There was a sandwich section (always very crowded, as the sandwiches involved little cooking, and were reliably decent), an Italian stand with pasta and that terrible, grease-laden pizza, a place for fries, burgers, quesadillas, and other grilled and fried offerings, a dessert booth, a somewhat offensive area for a mashed up variety of Asian food, and a salad and soup bar in the middle of the oval. Soda machines lined the area around the registers, which opened up into the seating area beyond.

"You make it rather difficult to stay angry with you," Izzy said quietly. He was angling the pair of them towards the salad bar, but Amy pulled him away.

"No. No salad. Well, you can have salad, but other stuff, too. All of the things. And Joe has vitamins for men, right? You should take some, since you didn't get any nutrients for three days." She suddenly noticed that Izzy was trembling slightly, and her voice lowered in pitch as more concern fell on her head. "Stars, you've been staying awake with caffeine, haven't you? You're shaking like an addict. Have you at least been drinking water? You always drink, nonstop, right? Tell me you've been drinking water, at least."

"Are you listening?" Izzy asked, his voice going a bit sharp with annoyance. Amy cringed, realizing that now was not a good time to push. But Izzy's stomach rumbled again, and that strengthened her resolve.

"No, not really," she admitted. "We'll talk more once you're eating, okay? I don't mean to be so obnoxious, but I'm really worried about you. I'll feel better once you're eating."

"I'm not a child," Izzy pointed out, his expression blank. Amy felt her facial muscles tighten and twitch in response, and Izzy's dark eyes widened a touch. He turned on his heels without a word, picked up a tray from the pile by the entryway, and began to select his dinner. Amy's nerves diminished a little, but she was still too concerned to pay any attention to what she was doing. By the time she was finished picking things up, she found that she had asked for a turkey sandwich on a croissant, of all things, slathered in mayonnaise, which she typically avoided, and a trembling puddle of unappetizingly gray pudding. Shaking her head, she filled a glass cup with water and made her way to the registers, paid with meal points, then selected a table in the quiet, hidden away area where she and Izzy had made their first date.

She found that she was too upset to really be interested in food, so, despite the fact that it took Izzy a little while to show up, she had hardly taken a nibble by the time he approached. He sat opposite her without a word, then went straight to eating. Apparently, he had taken Amy's orders literally, as there was a huge amount of food on his tray. He was also drinking orange juice, which might have been the first time she had seen him drink something other than water. Probably because it has some nutritional value, Amy reasoned. Is he appeasing me? Well, good, he should be. I can't believe how bad he is about taking care of himself. How hard is it to eat?

Sighing, Amy pushed her tray aside and cupped her face in her hands. She was grateful that their area was quiet, as usual, because this might end up being a painful conversation. Her stomach cramped up as her anxiety spiked to unprecedented heights. "So, uh… Izzy. Um, are we… Are we okay?"

Izzy graced her with a dark look as he chewed a bite of a wrap. Amy's skin heated up rapidly, and she could swear that she heard him swallow. "Are we?" he asked. "You seem to be glossing over the fact that I completely forgot about you for three solid days."

"Oh…" Amy rubbed the back of her neck and stared at the ceiling. "That… That's okay, Izzy. I mean, I was worried, but you were busy…"

Her eyes snapped back to her boyfriend when he made a strange, tight, grunting sound. He was grimacing, his eyes firmly shut. "Amy, that is not permissible. If I had called you and explained the situation, and you had agreed to indulge me and give me the time I needed, then that would have been fine. Instead, I left you to worry. And don't bother trying to convince me that you weren't worried without actually saying so. I'm aware that you're going to try to brush this off in order to spare my feelings, but don't. Joe told me that you were upset, and, even if he hadn't, I'm familiar with your propensity to fret. Of course, if it were any other girl, I'm fairly sure I'd already have received text messages indicating that we were no longer together at this point."

"Wait," Amy said, tipping her head. An odd suspicion was forming in her mind, forming an odd itch in her skull. "Waaaait. Are you mad because… Because I'm not mad?"

She had to wait for an answer, since Izzy was engaged in eating once more. "Precisely," he said at last, covering his mouth with a hand. Amy tried to complain- what was the point of trying to be forgiving if that generosity was rejected?- but Izzy cut her off. "You grow upset when I fail to take care of myself physically. Similarly, I grow upset when you fail to respect yourself and your rights. Both of these behaviors are destructive. We don't perform them purposefully, not typically, but the damage is still real. I will acknowledge a need to improve, and…" Izzy paused and sighed, staring at the huge pile of food in front of him. "And request your continued support and intercession, as necessary."

"Reluctantly," Amy translated, smiling despite everything. Her hand moved across the table, inching towards her boyfriend. He stared at it for a moment, then covered it with his own.

"True," he admitted, smiling ruefully. "In return, I hope you will allow me to assist you with your tendency to deny yourself your own right to feel wronged." His hand tightened around hers, and Amy's tongue flicked nervously over her lips. "I don't mean to judge you or talk down to you, but it…" Izzy cleared his throat and averted his eyes. "It's… painful."

Amy began to pick at her croissant, tearing off flaky layers and dropping them on her plate. This wasn't the first time Izzy had said something like this, and Amy was a little bothered by his finding fault with her desire to end conflict between herself and others. But it was clear that he found this concerning, for some reason, and so she would try to hold up her end of this deal. "Alright. I'll do my best. But I'm not sure I completely understand what you're saying, so I think I may need a lot of patience."

"Fair enough," Izzy agreed. "Now, after you raised such a fuss about my eating habits, might I indicate the prudence of actually ingesting some of your dinner?"

"Umm..." Amy shifted uncomfortably and picked up the edge of her croissant. "Just... So... We're good, right? No bad feelings?" The truth was, she wasn't certain that she could manage to choke anything down until she was completely assured that she wasn't losing Izzy.

A slight smile played upon Izzy's lips, and he gave her hand one last squeeze before pulling back. "For my part, I forgave you two days ago, and talking it over has eased any lingering discomfort. Unless you have any further concerns, yes. Everything's fine between us."

Her shoulders sagged forward without her willing it, moving her hair dangerously close to her food. She flipped it over her shoulder and busied herself with eating, feeling distressed and confused by the extreme relief overtaking her. It was as if someone had disentangled her heart strings in one easy motion, and everything was working properly after days of strain and stuttering. Her throat tightened over a chewed bite of her sandwich, and a long swill of water was needed to get it all the way down.

"So, uh, tell me about your schedule," Amy managed at last. She was interested, but she also wanted to get Izzy talking, so that he would turn his frighteningly knowing eyes away from hers. She knew that Izzy wasn't all that great with social undertones, so he probably wasn't sensing her emotional upheaval, but sometimes... Sometimes, she could swear that he just knew everything.

Finally, a true smile overtook Izzy's face, and he leaned closer to her, nearly planting his forearms in his salad. "It's incredibly, Amy. Dr. Edwards is exempting me from enough classes that I can finish my degrees by the end of our sophomore year, as I believe I've mentioned. Of course, I am going to have to take classes over our winter and summer breaks, as there is still four year's worth of core to attend to, as well as a few additional 400 level math and CS classes that I would like to take. Thankfully, since I'm still taking the same amount of credits that I would have, anyway, I was able to talk administration into letting my scholarship cover the break semesters."

His hands splayed out on the table, and his grin faltered slightly. "I'm going to be much busier from here on out, Amy. I apologize, but I will do everything I can to ensure that there is always time for you. But..." he hedged, and Amy's teeth found her lower lip, sinking into it painfully. "I'm afraid that this is another area where I may require your assistance. If you ever feel neglected, I need you to tell me. If you endure it without comment, I'll be unlikely to notice." He turned his dark eyes to her face, and she must have looked as lost as she felt, because he quickly looked away and sighed. "I know it's not ideal. I'm sorry."

"No, it's not that," Amy said, and she colored horrifically when her voice wavered. "I just... So... You'll be gone by the time I'm a junior...?"

"Ah..." Izzy leaned back in his chair and gripped the edge of his table. "Amy," he began carefully, and she fought down a whimper. His tone was so cautious and guarded, and that frightened her. "There are reasons why I chose this school. The most pressing was the free ride, of course. Following that, this school is within an hour of my parents. You know I'm fond of visiting them on weekends. And, of course, it's a reputable university, with strong programs in my chosen fields of study. I can't say with certainty what will happen when I complete my undergrad degrees, but, at this point in time, I plan to complete my graduate schooling here, as well. There's a strong chance that Dr. Edwards will want to continue employing me, and that he can help me garner the scholarships I would require, if I fail to receive them on my own."

Amy's eyes closed of their own accord, and she collapsed against her chair. "I see," she breathed, addressing the ceiling. "Good. I'm glad." Most of her fear dripped away, but she knew that, somewhere in the back of her mind, she would always be concerned about Izzy leaving campus early.

"It truly bothers you, doesn't it?" Amy's neck cracked as she whipped her head back down. Izzy was staring at her, arms crossed, brow deeply furrowed. His tone was unreadable, and Amy swallowed hard, unsure of how forthcoming she should be about her reply. The truth was probably more intense than the situation really called for, but, when Amy imagined life on campus without Izzy, a deep weight settled over her heart.

They were both oddly in unison with their schedules, along with Joe, and the three of them walked to their eight AM classes together, chatting and shivering in the chill of gray November mornings. Izzy split off from them, and Amy didn't see him again until lunch, when they slipped into their quiet corner and either discussed their classes or sat in comfortable silence, Izzy's face in a laptop and Amy's in a book. Amy would return to the dorm between one and four, depending on the day, and study on her own until the evening. Then, she ate with whatever combination of her friends was available and spent the last hours of the day with whoever wanted to hang out. Sometimes this meant playing guitar with Matt and helping him with lyrics. Sometimes it meant playing video games with Tai and/or Matt, listening to Mimi chatter, studying with Joe, talking to Sora, or some combination of those things, often simultaneously.

But, on the best nights, she convinced Izzy to stop programming, and they would sit close together and watch sci-fi shows, read together, or talk. It probably wouldn't sound like much to most people, but she looked forward to those snatched hours and hoarded them in her memory like a miser. To hear his wit in conversation, to probe his mind and find some new reason to be blown away by his brilliance, to feel him turn that keen intellect solely onto her… She treasured his mental abilities, but, more than that, she was beginning to notice a slow lowering of his defenses, and every sign of growing regard and trust filled her with a strange, tender feeling that tied her more and more tightly to him. And then, of course, there were those rare nights where he kissed her, where his hands roamed gently over her body, and the restrained heat that formed between them had Amy shivering with anticipating for whenever they decided to go further. There always seemed to be something holding them back on both sides, but perhaps, someday, their constraints would fall away.

Her breathing grew heavier at the thought, and she knew that Izzy was waiting for an answer, but she was too embarrassed and overwhelmed to provide one. She turned her eyes, wide and helpless, to her boyfriend's, and his expression softened. "You do realize," he began, tapping his fork against his plate, "that you went entirely against your nature by raising a fuss in the advising office, knowing all the while that you could end up causing yourself pain."

A flash of heat, born of nerves and humiliation, tore over Amy's body. She turned her eyes to her food and tried to ignore the intolerable heat forming in her cheeks. The sound of faint laughter had her looking back over at Izzy, who was smiling and shaking his head. "You are a strange, contrary creature," he said, offering her the ghost of a smile. His fingertips brushed her knee beneath the table, then returned to his fork.

Amy sigher her relief, glad to be spared from answering. "You're finally catching on," she replied, cocking an eyebrow.

Izzy offered her a soft, amused snort, then turned the conversation to lighter matters.

Author's note:

Not one of my stronger chapters. Sorry about that D: I wasn't as interested in this material as I have been in some of the other stuff. Things will pick up again next chapter, or at least I tell myself that! XD

Hmm, Amy, behaving a bit like your cousin there, aren't you? And isn't that interesting? I love how she didn't even notice that she told Izzy she loved him, although she did throw it in with her feelings for Tai and the others, so maybe it wasn't that big of a thing (one could argue that, for her, it still was, I suppose).

I went back and forth a lot, trying to decide if Amy would actually do what she did here. She's very moral, but I think, for her, the scenario of Izzy sleeping through classes that are beneath him is worse than doing whatever she can to help him out. I can bet that she really struggled to assert herself to the advisers. Also, Dr. Edwards probably gave her a slightly hard time, because he's an ass like that (he's mostly okay, but he likes to get enjoyment out of other people, and he tends to look down on people who he feels aren't at his level, and he's ever so slightly chauvinistic, as you might have noticed by his dismissive attitude towards Amy in conversation).

I also had to think about whether Izzy could really forget about Amy for three days, but, uh… Yeah, I think he could, especially this early in the relationship. That doesn't mean he doesn't care for her; it's just that, when Izzy gets focused on something… Well, that can be the end of everything else until he's marathoned his way through the task. Also, he probably ate something over the three days, but certainly not enough.

Also, I love their way of arguing. You can tell they never forget that they think highly of each other, even when they're not seeing eye to eye. That, I think, is a great sign of a good relationship, regardless of everyday problems.

I meant to post this yesterday, but I got a flu shot in the morning, and by four o'clock I was flushed, overheated, and sick to the stomach XD It was pretty wild, I haven't been legitimately sick for like six years. I feel fine now, though, it was just a temporary reaction (you know, you flood your body with flu yuck to build up antibodies, and it can take a lot out of you). Anyway, I was not thinking about writing at that point, lol!

Working on Growing Up with You next.