Chapter Seven: Presumptuous Girl

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Oh the things drinking can do. It can, for example, make you make out with the boy you've had a crush on for years... and then probably have sex with him later that night on his parents' bed. It can also open people in the strangest of ways. Squall Leonhart was proof of that. Maybe I was just hallucinating through my boozy, delusional fog left over from last night but I could swear that Squall was waist deep in the ocean with me. Oh, and did I mention we were both half naked? Alcohol was truly an incredible thing.

I didn't want to blame all of this new found opening up business on booze alone though. But what choice did I have? It certainly wasn't my and Selphie's charm that won him over, however much I would have liked to believe that. He probably realized he found someone he can totally leech off of. I mean, we were feeding him packs of cigarettes left and right. Who would want to let go of us?

We continued to play around in the water. Diving under the soft roll of waves and splashing each other like before. He showed me the crabs that dipped themselves in the sand. I pulled one crab out, much to its confusion and let it crawl around in a daze upon my palm. I tried to give it to Squall but he swatted it away, causing it to careen into the soft lull of a wave. We didn't 'know where they had been' he said as he continued to shake his hand, still afraid the crab might still be present. I just laughed. They were crabs for god's sake, they can't give you herpes or anything.

The sun was setting and we decided to pull ourselves from the water after hours of playing. We needed to dry, and that wouldn't happen at night. We checked our clothes to see if they had dried, but they were still damp so we ended up just sitting on the beach, watching the sun set.

In the silence that accompanied us I gathered the courage I needed to ask something that had been bugging me for quite some time.

"I know that I'm prying, but..." I began, nervous that I might offend him. "Um, well, you said you were celebrating earlier. What were you celebrating?" I asked cautiously, avoiding eye contact with him.

There was a silence and I knew that my question was too soon asked. I completely understood his resistance though.

"Quistis." He replied, much to my astonishment. But... now what? Do I keep asking? I hadn't really planned this far ahead. I mean, I didn't even think that question would earn itself a response.

"What happened?" I asked, feeling myself crossing dangerous lines.

Another period of silence.

"I got the last laugh." He said with a slight nod. That sounded final to me, so I didn't press further. But God how I wanted to. It was all so cryptic. 'The last laugh.' He was a cryptic kind of man I suppose. His emotional wall blocked a great deal of information, leaving only odd hints and enigmatic notes. I figured if I was to understand him, I'd have to figure him out for myself. He wasn't going to help. I doubted he was going to tear any well fortified blockades down just for my curious mind.

Now with that question done... onto another.

"How long have you been at Garden?" I asked as I dug my toes into the sand. I probably seemed pushy to him, but I didn't really care. If he was going to answer one question, however vague his last answer might have been, I might as well keep on the ball and roll with it.

He thought for a moment.

"Five years." He answered. Five years? Are you kidding? That's practically a lifetime. That's nearly one third of my life right there.

"Five years?" I questioned in disbelief. "No way."

"I'm a gunblade user. I have to take more courses than others." He explained as he began making trails in the sand with his fingers.

"I don't know what my weapon should be." I sighed heavily. I hadn't even thought of it. I had just begun to get the hang of using a G.F. And I'd soon have to start using a weapon? Lame. "I could never swing a gunblade around." I mumbled. "What's the easiest weapon to get accustomed with?"

"Um, pinwheel?" He suggested with an indifferent shrug as he looked back across the rolling waves now turning orange against the backdrop of a sleepy sun.

"Then pinwheel it is!" I said smacking my hands against the sand. "But, I don't have to worry about that yet, at least not until next semester."

This caught him slightly off guard for some reason. He gave me a curious stare as he looked me up and down.

"What?" I asked, finding a little humor in his expressions.

"How..." He began cautiously. "How old are you?" He asked.

Why? Why did it matter?

"Sixteen." I answered in a low voice, afraid that my age would displease.

"Oh... Hm." He mumbled as he turned back to the slow setting sun.

"What? What does that mean?'" I asked, getting a little nervous. Sure, the guy was a little mysterious with his answers, I could accept that. But a weird grunt in response to my age can't be ignored.

"I just... thought you were older. Only first years haven't chosen their weapons. I thought you were joking about that weapon comment." He replied.

"How old did you think I was?"

"I don't know. Not sixteen though."

Was that a compliment? I couldn't tell what to take it as so I just dropped it.

"Well, how old are you Mr. I've got nothing better to do than go to Garden for five years?" I asked with mocking snottiness.

"Nineteen." He answered plainly. Nineteen? What!? No way! He was three years older than me? He didn't look it. No, he was lying.

"I don't believe you." I said, pressing him on.

"I'm coming up on my last year at Garden. My SeeD Field Exam is next year." He replied as he picked up a pebble and tossed it into the surf.

"Woah, I've been hanging out with an upper class man!" I said with a laugh at the sudden realization. It looked like he was made uncomfortable by the remark and my smile slipped from my face as I watched his discomfort. Did I make him feel old? Did I imply he looked immature and young? Or... was he uncomfortable with the idea of us 'hanging out.' Chalk it up to paranoia I guess, but I figured it was the latter.

Realizing this I quickly shut up and looked back across the ocean to watch the sun set. I began to feel uncomfortable around him all of the sudden. I didn't want to spend time with someone who didn't want to spend time with me. I guess that sounds kind of selfish, but I needed to be able to be on the same wavelength as him. And I thought we were. Maybe I was wrong... or maybe I was reading too much into this.

"Where were you born?" He asked out of the blue, breaking our estranged silence.

"Deling." I said plainly, making no effort to turn my attention back to him. "You?"

"I don't know." He responded honestly. Maybe a little too honestly. That was the first time I didn't want to pry into his cryptic notes. I really didn't know him that well at all, and to tell me about something personal like that made me slightly perturbed.

But thankfully he left it at that and said nothing more.

This was... weird, to say the least. The further we pulled ourselves from our brief interaction, the more plainly I could see it from an analytical perspective. Where had this kind of Squall come from? When had someone who was anti-social and generally unpleasant to be around become well, less, unbearable to socialize with? Just because we got drunk together didn't feel like a good enough reason, but I knew there couldn't be any other. So peculiar. It made me uncomfortable actually.

We checked our clothes again. They still weren't dry, but with the sun almost completely submerged beneath the horizon line, we decided to take them as they were. I hated wearing wet clothes. It was definitely one of the worst feelings to feel soggy and heavy. Gross. Just gross. Fortunately our clothes weren't too bad. I could move without hunching over and waddling which was always a plus.

We hopped back on the scooter and drove off along the dirt path. It was a little bumpier than I remembered and I held on tighter to Squall's waist. We hit something and we were flung up from our seats. We landed painfully and awkwardly causing Squall to lose control of his steering for a moment. An audible curse and gasp escaped him as he tried to gain his bearings. It veered a little right, then a little left until another crash of turbulence rocked us once more. But it proved to be a little too intense for the scooter to handle as I felt myself get ripped from my seat. My arms slipped from Squall's waist as I flew backwards.

The world went in slow motion for a few brief seconds. I was suspended in midair as I realized there wasn't a single part of my body gripping any portion of the bike or Squall. Oh fuck. I fell off. I spotted the seat that I had just been sitting in and time caught up with itself in a flash.

I smacked against the ground, my butt taking the brunt of the fall. I fell back onto my elbows causing them to skin painfully.

I sat up and saw Squall screech to an awkward, terrible hault. He hurriedly pulled his helmet off and shot me a worried look. He let the scooter drop to the ground as he came to me in a light jog.

"What happened?" He asked as he offered me a hand.

"I decided I wanted to walk." I said, my anger morphing into ill placed sarcasm. "I was thrown off." I said a little softer as I motioned towards the now capsized scooter.

"I think we blew a tire." He said as he moved back towards the machine. He knelt down beside it and examined it momentarily before looking up to me, confirming his earlier thoughts.

"Shit." I cursed. I looked in the direction of Garden. The building had lit up, providing a small source of illumination in the otherwise desolate island. It was becoming night faster than I was expecting. And with the scooter now out of commission we would be walking on a rarely used, unlit road in the dark of night.

"Fuck." I cursed again as I turned back to the sun now winking one last eye at us. It was mocking us. Reminding us of what we could have had if we had only left hours before. The sun vanished before my eyes and left only remnants of its celestial beauty behind in the form of an orange and pink sky.

"We're going to have to walk." Squall commented sourly as he kicked the tire. I sighed my recognition to the plan.

He picked the scooter up and hung his helmet from one of the handles and I placed mine on the opposite side. He began to push the machine, beginning our trek back to Garden. This was going to be a long, long walk.

As we moved along from the dirt path to the paved road I stole a glance at him. He looked pissed off. This wasn't an ideal situation in the slightest. I could only imagine him blaming me for it too. If he hadn't come with me to the beach, this wouldn't be happening. I knew that's what he was thinking.

"At least it was just the tire." I commented with a sad smile, trying to find some kind of hope in the bleakness. He looked at me irate and I gave a small shrug, dismissing my comment as ridiculous. I looked back ahead. I thought I was done, but he obviously felt differently.

"The tire was the worst possible option." He commented sternly as he pushed the scooter a little harder, speeding our pace up.

"What if something had happened to the engine? How is that better?" I asked with a teasing smile. But he was in no laughing mood.

"The engine is fixable." He said tersely through gritted teeth. "How are we supposed to fix a blown tire in the middle of fucking nowhere?"

"Well, following that logic, how were we supposed to fix a destroyed engine?" I asked curiously. I knew the question would only anger him even more. Stupid, stupid Rinoa. I hadn't meant it to be anything rude or obnoxious, but it could only be taken as such. He gave me a cold stare.

"I don't know. But I don't have the tools to patch up a tire." He said as he looked away, as if looking at me pained him even further.

"And you have the tools to fix the engine?" I asked incredulously. Shut the fuck up already Rinoa! I honestly didn't mean to be snotty but I couldn't help but ramble off whatever came to my mind. I was used to having open discussions with Selphie and Zell. Squall was a whole other world with a different set of conversational rules.

He shook his head, attempting to dismiss all of my retardation and, if for a moment, mellow out.

"Whatever." He finally mumbled after a moment. He was annoyed and he was attempting to ignore me.

His anger was ridiculous. It was a blown tire. Not the end of the world. Psh, what a baby.

"Chill out." I said instinctively. I hadn't meant for that to come out, as with most of my comments with him. After bantering with Selphie for so long, the words 'chill out' were reflexive. But I couldn't take them back now. I just continued to gaze forward, avoiding any eye contact he might have tossed my way.

Most of the walk was spent in a great heavy silence. I noticed we had slowed our pace considerably. And it was no wonder, Squall had been pushing that beast of a scooter for who knows how long.

"How about we switch?" I offered, moving next to him, ready to take the machine off his hands. He looked at me questionably, as if mentally deciding if I had enough physical strength to push it.

He looked unconvinced I could do it, but he pushed the handles he had previously been gripping over to me. I took them energetically, getting myself ready for the long haul back to Garden.

We had made a great amount of progress in such a short time. Well, I don't really know if it was a short time or not. It felt short anyways. But, in any case the Garden, which had seemed some distance away at the beach, now felt to be within our grasp.

I pushed forward ready to roll a mile a minute but I was going much slower than I had anticipated. This thing was exhaustingly heavy. I was already breaking a sweat and completely winded after only a few minutes.

"Does this thing have," I took a heavy breath and swallowed thickly, "bricks in it or something?" I asked as I arched my back, trying to find the proper leverage.

"Scooters are heavy." He said dryly. He looked back to me and noticed the trouble I was having. He turned away, willing to ignore my suffering for the sake of his own leisure. I couldn't blame him though. He had pushed this thing a majority of the way and it was now my turn. It was fair.

"Apparently." I mumbled as I pushed harder. But the harder I pushed the more balance I seemed to lose on the scooter. It wobbled back and forth dangerously. I gasped instinctively and tried to balance it but it was far too heavy to keep up right from just the handle bars. Squall reached out in a flash and grabbed the seat. He pulled it up right with a hand and looked at me curiously. I'm sure I looked flushed and exasperated.

"I'll push." He said. He brushed my hands away and took hold of the handles.

"No." I insisted, gripping the tips of the bars. "That's not fair. You pushed it here, and now it's my turn."

"Well, it's really not fair to either of us if we get home by midnight." He reminded me. The comment was cold and it hurt a little. But he had a point. I was the weaker one here. I was slowing us both down. We were only as fast as our slowest person and Squall had no qualms in reminding me that I was the weakest link in our two person chain. Even if I could see where he was coming from, I didn't care and I blurted out the first thing that knocked at my mouth's door

"Don't be an asshole." Word vomit. But I meant it.

"Do you want to be home next year?" His voice was reprimanding, like a father scolding a child. "Be my guest." He let go of the scooter, leaving me with it.

I remained silent for a time. I just stood there, keeping the bike up right. He had turned around and begun to walk away, leaving me.

"I'm just trying to help out." I commented as I began to push the bike. "This thing is heavy. You must be exhausted. I was just trying to give you a decent break." I mumbled as I caught up with him.

"I don't need a break. I need to get back to Garden." He said as he looked to me, frustration still locked in his eyes. If he was going to be a big baby about it then he could deal with it. Excuse me for offering my help. No good deed goes unpunished with Squall around.

"Fine." I mumbled, handing the reigns back to him. He pushed ahead, faster than before as if trying to prove to me he wasn't tired in the slightest. It wasn't working. It just made him look like a bratty teenager.

The silence that followed us was painful. Agonizing, really. Our silences before, however strange they might have been, were ones of understanding. I understood that he was off in his own little world, not even thinking about the situation around him so it never bothered me. But this silence was different. We were both entirely conscious of the silence. He wasn't in his own world, he was firmly planted on terra firma evaluating this awkward moment just as I was.

He didn't know how to weasel out of it like I did though. I decided to put a foot forward and break the pain.

"What is your ring of?" I asked with a surprising amount of confidence. He too seemed taken by surprise from the off hand question that broke our silence. I had been meaning to ask this question for a while now. I remembered on the day of his check up he had been fiddling with that very same ring and I hadn't seen him without it since. He hadn't even bothered taking it off to go into the water.

He examined the ring himself, as if trying to decipher exactly what it was.

"It's a lion." He answered, still gazing at the ring.

"A... lion?" I asked curiously. What was a lion? Sure, I hadn't taken a ton of monster concentration classes, but I knew enough about the beasts of this world. And I hadn't heard of a 'lion.'

"It's a mythical creature." He responded to my confusion. "It's supposed to be powerful and proud."

"It's very pretty." I commented gazing at it with him. The metal glinted delicately under the fine scrutiny of the moon that was beginning to settle into the night sky. I doubted that he wanted me to call one of his belongings 'pretty,' but it was.

"Where did you get it?" I asked.

"I can't remember anymore." He mumbled as he brought the ring up closer to his gaze, still pushing the scooter with one hand.

"May I, um," I didn't want to be pushy, especially when he had just been so angry at me a few minutes ago. But I had opened my mouth and I couldn't just stop. I mean, I had had no discretion previously, why should propriety halt me now? "May I see it?" I asked gently. He looked to me with an expressionless gaze, then pulled the ring straight off. He handed it to me between his thumb and index finger and I pulled it from him delicately. I examined it closely.

There was a gentle silence that momentarily flowed between us. It was a silent communication of understanding. Honesty felt appropriate now as all of our previous angry opinions had been lost in the polite conversation.

"I bet it's important." I said as I continued to examine it closely.

He was silent for a moment.

"What do you mean?" He asked calmly.

"It's important to you, right?" I asked looking back up to him.

More silence from him.

"Yeah, I guess."

"Do you want to be like Mr. Lion here?" I asked with a gentle smile. It came off jokingly, but I was mildly serious. "Proud, powerful and independent?"

He gave me a confused look.

"It's not independent." He said, as if snapping back to reality. He looked away from me and back to the task at hand. He pushed on the scooter harder. "Lions are pack animals."

He had never described it as independent. Where had independent come from? Well, I knew very well where that comment had come from. I was just... assuming a little too much and jumping to conclusions. I meant the word to be a silent thought, but like every other word out of my mouth, it was just unprocessed garble. When he had described the lion's qualities I thought he was trying to refer to himself in some sly way. Maybe I had taken him too seriously? He wasn't describing himself... just the lion. He wasn't that inventive.

I tried burying the unsettling feelings I had rumbling in my mind and I began to play with the ring. I slipped it onto my thumb, the only finger that it would even remotely fit on.

"You have big, manly fingers." I commented with a chuckle as I rolled the ring around my thumb.

"I guess." He said, looking to the lion.

Some comfortable, relaxing silence hung in the air for a brief moment. And then, a moment of honest clarity shot down from the heavens and touched me, if for only a moment. I wondered if he had felt the same sort of limpidity that I had just felt. Was it something in the air, or just me acting weird? I'm sure it was just me being peculiar, but I would have liked to think we both mentally concluded that now was a time for us to speak pellucidly.

"Want to know something?" I asked with a smile, excited for the comment I was about to spill. He made a brief grunt, ready to hear. "I thought you were so imposing and scary when I first met you." I said with a smirk as I gave the ring back to him. He slipped it back into its home and he looked at me with interest.

"Hm." He mumbled again, acting at least slightly curious about the remark.

"Yeah. You made me nervous. You were very intimidating." I said with a smile, happy to be over that (for the most part).

"I'm not anymore?" He asked.

"Does that disappoint you?" I laughed. "Maybe I just got used to you." I offered as I kicked a pebble out of my way.

"Got used to me?" He asked curiously.

"Well, yeah. I think we've been around each other enough for me to be comfortable around you." I explained.

"I've only talked with you, what, five times? Tops." He reminded, attempting to disprove me. He really wanted me to be wrong for some reason.

"It doesn't take hours of socializing to be comfortable around someone. It can be just a few minutes sometimes." I noted.

He nodded slowly as if he understood my logic.

I swallowed thickly, prepping for my next question.

"Do you, um," I mumbled. This was going to be awkward and I became a little nervous. "Feel comfortable with me?" I finished with a soft smile as I peered over to him.

Some silence.

"I guess." He answered with a shrug. He had brushed the seriousness of my question aside. I mean, sure it was a bit of a strange thing to ask but this kid didn't deserve 'normal' conversations. He was much too different and much too special to waste boring questions on.

"Oh good." I responded with a smile. "You know," I continued. "I think it was our drunken fun that made me start feeling okay around you."

"Yeah..." He mumbled.

"How about you?" I was prying again. But I understood that I had to push the limit of his comfort in order to see where it was in the first place. "When did you start feeling 'comfortable?'"

"I was never 'uncomfortable.'" He replied honestly. I don't know if he meant it the way I took it, but I felt guilty and ashamed just then. I'm sure that I sounded like I was attacking his very personality with talk of 'you made me feel awful!' Of course he was hurt by those kinds of comments. And here he was, telling me that he had never found anything wrong at all. I felt like an idiot.

"I just thought you were weird." He said flatly. I had to laugh at that. It masked my guilt for a moment, but I still felt awful. But I pushed the feeling into the back of my mind.

"Why did you think I was weird?" I asked, with mocking defensiveness. I didn't care if he thought I was weird. I called myself weird on a daily basis so I expected everyone else to feel the same.

He shrugged.

"Because I was nice?" I teased. "Or because I didn't run away from your big bad wolfyness?"

He remained silent and gave me another shrug.

"I'm sure you still think I'm weird." I said. He didn't respond to that either. Why wasn't he saying anything? Did I make him mad? Maybe I was being too comfortable with him? But, if that was the case then what would I say? What could I ask? I didn't know anymore. I was running out of ideas. Everything that came out of my mouth now just felt like garbage, garbage he would quickly toss away and give no response to. What did I have to say to get him to talk? And why did it feel so much harder now? It was all right at the beach, wasn't it? Maybe he was still pissed about the whole blown tire business. This was frustrating, and a little tiresome.

Silence filled the void where our 'conversation' once was. I felt like I was back at square one with Squall. It always felt like two steps forward, three back. He was such a mystery. Why? Why wasn't he talking? Did he have tonsillitis? Did he really loathe me that much to not even bother engaging me with simple chat? Or, maybe that's just how he was? Maybe he didn't like talking. Maybe he didn't like people. Well, I'd never know if any of my assumptions were correct anyway because he'd never tell.

Oh for God's sake... Why am I here? Why I am here with him?

This wasn't fun. This was the opposite of fun. Well, I guess the beach was kind of fun. But still, this was pretty agonizing. I was fluctuating through my moods faster than Selphie can click through channels on a TV. I may have been a moody person, but I wasn't usually this capricious. Was it Squall's lack of emotion that made me feel like I had to make up for it by going all crazy? Feeling honest, then angry, irritated, uncomfortable, comfortable, friendly. This was too much. But why? Why was this happening!? Agh! This was so frustrating!

I was freaking out and he was still just pushing the machine along as if nothing had ever happened.

Why am I beating myself up over this? Why am I still thinking? Stop thinking!

"Squall!" I said, a little louder than I should have. He looked startled by the sudden outburst. I didn't mean to yell, I just needed to shut my mind up.

Silence.

Um, what was I going to say? Or right, nothing. I just yelled his name for no reason. Quick! Say something!

"How's your scar healing?"

"Um, fine." He said as he touched it gently. He gave me a suspicious look then turned back in front of him.

More silence.

Oh my God. These silences needs to stop. Say something, Squall. Ask me something. Anything. Ask me how bad my menstrual cramps are! Anything! I'm begging you, dammit!

"You're not one for talking, are you?" I mumbled more to myself. He caught wind of the comment.

"I don't have anything important to say." He responded simply. I bit my lip nervously. I didn't want him to hear my last comment.

"You don't engage in just general chit-chat?" I asked, deciding to take a chance on this conversation. It wouldn't go very far, I knew, but at least I could try.

"Not really."

"Then it's too bad you're stuck with me." I laughed. "I don't talk about anything important. Ever."

"Apparently." He mumbled.

"Ouch. That one hurt." I mocked. Was that a joke? Yeah, he just made a joke! Was he opening up? Or what... what was this? This was the second step forward, my next comment would bring him to the third and then back to square one all over again. It was the same every time. I should just stop while I'm ahe-

"Why do you talk with me?" He asked suddenly. Woah, that's out of left field. Where the hell did that come from? What does that question even mean?

"What?" Was all I could mumble after the shock of such a question from a man of such simple words.

"Um," he hesitated. "Why are you talking to me? Why are we 'hanging out?'"

... good fucking question.

"Does it matter why?"

"I'm not a friendly person. I'm not like Zell or Selphie. I don't talk. Did you see how much shit I gave you for trying to drag me to the beach? Why are you bothering?" He asked. We had stopped our walk to give our undivided attention to this conversation.

"Do you... not want me to talk to you anymore?" I asked, afraid he would tell me to just get lost.

"I haven't been a 'friend' to you. Why are you treating me like one? I took your wine, got two free packs of cigarettes off of you. If I was you I would have told me to fuck off long ago."

And then it all made sense to me.

"What do you think a 'friend' is?" I asked, curious after a short pause.

He didn't respond, because he couldn't. How can you define what a friend is, especially a person who has none and wants none.

"C'mon, tell me. What makes a friend to you?" I pushed him on. I'm sure this was making him more than a little uncomfortable.

"I don't know," he said after a moment with a shake of his head.

"We're friends. This is what a friend is." I said with a smile as I pointed to my chest then to his. "I know it's hard to believe, but I think friendship is happening here." I smiled.

"I'm not your friend." He insisted.

"What? Why not? If you can tell me why we're not considered friends, then I'll concede to that idea."

"I told you! I'm leeching off of you and I won't engage you in conversation. Two qualities I can't possibly see being appealing in a 'friend.'"

"Okay, first of all you're not a leech. Why do you think that? So what if we gave you a bottle of wine and I gave you a pack of cigarettes that I found? It doesn't make you a leech. It makes you a willing receiver." I explained, my hands on my hips.

"And, okay, so maybe you're not the best conversationalist but you don't insult me. You don't punch me or abuse me. And you do have your moments, you know." I said. "Plus, we don't have to constantly be gabbing up a storm in order for me to enjoy hanging out with you."

Truer words had never been spoken. Once I said them, I realized it was I who needed that advice. So what if he wasn't talking to me. That's who he was! He didn't hate me. He was simply a man of few words. It was okay if our conversations were few and far between. Silence was fine. Talking is overrated anyways. But it was obvious why he was acting weirder now than on all of those other times spent together. It was because he couldn't understand the idea of me not hating him. He couldn't wrap his mind around the idea that I wanted to be here with him.

"Look, I get that you're in your head a lot. I've been there before too, you know? You don't have to feel like you need to constantly engage me every time I open my big mouth. I generally don't even think before speaking anyway. I find you to be a refreshing change of pace actually." I smiled at that thought. I was right. He was a nice change from the usual Selphie and Zell banter. Squall was a minimalist. I liked that. I saw it all so plainly now. I guess just saying it aloud made all the difference.

"Like you said earlier, you only say something when something needs to be said. It's nice to talk to someone level headed. Though you could open up a little more." I smiled at him but he continued his confused gaze.

"We're not friends," he said with a great amount of finality as he turned away from me and pushed ahead. I usually let those final thoughts finish our brief conversations, but he wasn't getting off so easy this time.

"Fine. Whatever. We're not friends. But at least allow me the pleasure of being able to say hi from time to time in the hallways. And even though I know it's a bit of a stretch, maybe we can even do something like this again?" I offered.

"Do you really care that much? Does it matter that much to you?" He challenged. It wasn't rude or hotty. It was just a question.

I gave him a look as I placed my hands to my hips.

"Sure I care. But the real question, Squall, is why do you care so much?" I shot back.

"I don't give two shits." He replied.

"Yeah you do. Otherwise you wouldn't have a) brought up this conversation and b) wouldn't be so adamant about denying our camaraderie towards each other."

"I'm not denying anything. I'm telling you how it is." His face was stoic and cold.

"You are telling me how it is?" I laughed. "Oh please. You are so backasswards. You, the aloof loner, is telling me, the social butterfly, 'how it is,' telling me what makes a real friend? I don't think so."

"The aloof loners knows a lot more about friendship because they are more selective."

"The word loner, a noun, is derived from the term alone. Alone, if you can recall what that means, means being without anyone else which would mean being without friends entirely. Thus, a real loner doesn't know what a friend is even if one came up and bit them in the ass."

"I know what a friend is."

"You have no idea. I bet you've never had a friend in your whole life," I said. He looked taken aback by that comment, but quickly recovered from it.

"You don't know anything about me."

"Good observation. Care to divulge?"

"No."

"Well then, since you won't tell me if I'm right or wrong about this whole never had a friend business... I'm going to assume I'm right in my previous assumption."

"Assume whatever you like. It doesn't make it right."

"Congratulations, Squall." I put a hand to his shoulder and stopped him. He turned to me perplexed and a little cross. "I'm your very first friend."

"Don't think so." He pushed on.

"Gosh, isn't being friends just so much fun?"

"And this is why I prefer to be alone."

"Because you hate people?" I offered.

"Sure," he mumbled, dismissing me and my comments entirely.

"You know, I'm going to keep assuming until you give me a straight answer."

"Assume away." He gave an uncaring wave of his hand.

"You don't have friends because... You do this every time someone tries to interact with you," I guessed.

"You're annoying."

"So are you."

"So I guess that doesn't make us friends now does it?"

I gave him a curious look.

"I thought friends liked one another. We obviously don't," he reminded.

"I never said that. You're just putting words in my mouth."

"You said I'm annoying. Do you hang out with annoying people?"

"Obviously. Have you seen the company I keep?"

He stopped for a moment, as if confused on where to take this miniature argument of ours.

"I don't believe you think I'm annoying," I said.

"Why?" He challenged

"Because you could have left anytime when we got drunk that night, and you could have left anytime at the beach, and you could have left me alone out there on the balcony all those times, and you could have taken that pack of cigarettes and just run away, and when I invited you to the beach you could have just said 'no.'" I stared into his eyes and I leaned towards him, in the most antagonizing way I could. "... But you didn't. I think you might actually enjoy my company, but you're just far too proud to admit it."

"Presumptuous."

"I have to be with you." He was silent. "That's the price of not opening up. I have to just presume I understand you."

He turned away from me and continued the trek back to Garden.

"You don't need to understand me."

"You mean you think we can continue to talk to each other, even when I don't know a goddamn thing about you?" I asked incredulously.

"Yep." He stated simply.

"You're deluded," I mumbled. "Fine, I won't say anything about myself until you tell me something about you."

"Like I care."

"Looks like I'm going to be talking a lot about the weather then." I laughed. I couldn't tell if I took him seriously or not. I didn't even know whether this conversation was serious or not.

"Even if we made that deal, there's no way you could go a day without divulging something to me."

"Is that a challenge?" I asked.

"No. It's a fact," he shot back. He was being so snappy. I was probably pissing him off a little with this conversation.

"You've been awfully rude lately. What crawled up your ass?" I asked, turning away from him.

"This dialogue we're sharing."

"Are you really that bothered by it?" I asked. I found myself sympathizing with him a little. He was probably incredible uncomfortable with the direction this conversation was heading. He didn't seem like the kind of person to just tell me to shut up, so he probably began to lash back at me instead.

"Yeah," he answered honestly. "I'm sorry I even brought up the subject in the first place."

I was silent for a while, respecting his feelings but I couldn't help myself.

"Since you asked me that question, I'm going to ask you," I began. "Why do you stick around me?"

"You already asked me."

"No. I just presumed an answer," I reminded. He sighed wearily. "So, tell me. It's only fair. I answered your question."

"I don't have to justify you with an answer," he said coldly.

"Why not? I answered yours!"

"I don't have to answer if I don't want to. You're not my superior, you can't tell me to do anything," he said.

"You sound like a two year old," I scoffed. I paused for a moment. "C'mon, just tell me," I urged. "I'm not going to go tell the whole school or anything. What we say here is private, you know?"

He remained silent.

"Why do you want to know so badly?"

"After telling me that I'm annoying and claiming we're not even close to resembling friends, I'm left wondering why you're still here at all," I answered.

He paused a moment and cocked his head awkwardly away from my vision.

"I think you're interesting," he answered forthrightly. Squall either gave you everything unadulterated or nothing at all, apparently.

"Interesting?" I pressed him on.

"Yeah," he answered, his voice a little quieter now. "I don't think I've interacted positively with another human since I was sixteen."

"That makes me interesting?"

"It's interesting that you, of all the people in all of Garden, I don't want to completely avoid," he said looking at me. Sure it was a backwards kind of compliment, but it was a compliment nonetheless and I couldn't help but blush. I felt special, like I had done something right. I had done what so few others had. I managed to get Squall's attention.

"Really?" I asked, smiling a little. He took notice of my smile and quickly pretended to wipe the conversation off the face of this world, as if suddenly embarrassed by it. He looked away from me, and a stern gaze glazed his face.

"I guess," he replied indifferently.

I decided to not press him further on the subject. Just that thought was enough to satiate me for days. Knowing that he didn't hate me put me at ease. I couldn't say why I cared so much though. He wasn't much of a talker, nor seemed to be a very interesting person in reality. But I was drawn to him like a bug to a light. I couldn't help but follow.

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a/n: ... I swear this story is going somewhere.