Just finished mowing the lawn *cries* My hands are nummmmbbbb!

Sum.: Arthuretta Kirkland has always been a little bit of a rebel. And Francis Bonnefoy has always been the clear image of what she loathed. But after a rumor goes around that Francis is more bad than he appears, Arthuretta's eyes are opened to the fact that maybe, just maybe, Francis might not be such a goody-two-shoes after all.

Genre: Romance

Warnings: Rated T, Romano's potty mouth, Francis' French-ness-ism, and some gen!flipping

R&R, my darlings~ Enjoy!

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Chapter 2

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I know that Francis pays much more attention to me than he does most other girls. Usually, he just sticks around until he seduces them into going on a date with him (although I have never given him that, of course), and gives up after a day if denied.

And he has been showering me with fondness since I first came to this school. (Read: three months)

The only reason I keep pushing him away is because I know I don't deserve his affection. I know I'm not particularly pretty, nor am I brimming with cheer, nor do I care too much about others and their well-being.

And this also explains why I am utterly confused that he still sticks around.

After bothering me for the rest of the day (he was in all of my classes after lunch), he finally left when the bell rang to walk home with Gillian and Antonia.

Feliciana met me at my locker (how she found out it was mine, I have no idea) and chattered on about her day. When I had finished dragging the bag out, I shut my locker and turned to her expectantly.

I don't know what I was waiting for, but I felt like she knew.

"Oh! Here's my phone number, ve~ Call me if you ever want to talk!" she said cheerfully, taking out a pen and, lacking paper, scrawling it on my arm when I held it out to her.

I nodded and was about to leave when she threw her arms around me. "Bye, Arthuretta! I'm so glad I'm your friend, ve~!" she chirped, then let go and ran off.

I blinked in shock, then shook my head and started in the direction of where Matthew parked the car.

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When Alfred saw my arm (I had forgotten to roll my flannel sleeve back down), he snickered. "Oh, does Arty have a girlfriend?" he teased, assuming that the flowing script was female (which it was, of course.)

I blushed and glared at him. "She's not my bloody girlfriend, you git! She's just my friend and she gave me her number without me asking her to!"

Somehow, I feel like I made the problem worse. He sniggered but stopped when Matthew spoke up. "Who is it, eh? You haven't made any friends, and we've noticed." 'We' being Matthew and Aunt Tori.

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. "None of your bloody business."

Matthew silently sighed in exasperation but kept focused on the road.

Finally, after a few moments of peaceful silence, Alfred spoke up. "Is it that Vargas girl? You two were hanging out at lunch together, right?"

I burned bright red. "How'd you know about that? You always eat lunch at McDonald's."

He grinned cluelessly at me. "All the girls were talking about it!"

I bit back from screaming in rage. Of course the female-bloody-populace of my school was talking about me. God damnit. Half of me wanted to burst into tears, but I didn't dare cry in front of my cousins. Alfred already teased me without rest, and Matthew would just worry over me and tell his mother and then both of them would appear in my room, bearing comfort food and soothing words.

Like I don't get enough of that already.

As soon as the car was parked in the driveway, I darted out of the car and ran into the house.

"Arthuretta…!" Aunt Tori shrieked as I bolted past her at the stairs.

"Homework," was all I said as I slammed my bedroom door shut.

Naturally, that wasn't the truth. I threw my bag onto the ground by my desk and slid my headphones, hitting the play button as I curled up under my comforter on my bed.

I pressed a pillow against my face and screamed as loud as I could, the noise silenced by the fabric. Only when my nose felt clogged up a few moments later did I realize that I was crying.

I cried silently into the pillow, not daring to shriek and kick my legs in the temper tantrum I so desperately wanted to throw.

Damn those girls, always picking on me and looking at me like I'm scum and spreading rumors that I'm on drugs and all that crap.

Urg. I hate the female population of America. The women in London were much, much more civilized. They only talked about you when they were sure you wouldn't hear about it.

Except Feliciana. I don't hate her. She's better than the rest of the girls at this school, and for that, I'm thankful. She had the same heart as Matthew, but she knew not to bug me too much about my fits.

Just as a song stopped playing, I heard someone coming up the stairs. Since only Aunt Tori had a room up here, as well as the second bathroom and the house's only linen closet, and that the footfalls were too heavy to be her's, I knew that one of my cousin's were here to talk to me.

I quickly wiped my face and flipped my pillow over, tears officially hidden.

A loud knock sounded at my door, and I immediately knew it was Alfred.

"Whaddya want, Al?" I yelled.

Instead of answering, he came into the room, a guilty look on my face. "Um, Mattie told me to apologize for what I said earlier. About the Vargas girl being your girlfriend and all that."

I rolled my eyes and sneered at him. "I could care less about that, Al. You always say stupid things like that, so I wasn't hurt or anything."

His eyes brightened up. "Does that mean I'm forgiven?"

"Sure."

He whooped and was just about to leave when he stared closer at my face. "Are you crying?"

I wiped at my cheeks, double-checking. Nope, no tears. "No, of course not, you git!"

"Were you crying before I came in?"

"No!" I said it with too much effort, and answered a split-second too early.

He peered closely at me. "What's wrong, Arthuretta?"

That was the third time out of my entire life he had used my full name. He meant business. "Nothing! I wasn't crying! Get out of my room before I bloody yell for Aunt Tori!" I shouted, throwing a pillow at his head.

Alfred yelped and ran out of the room, forgetting to shut the door.

I simply glared at it, too lazy to get up and shut it myself.

I heard voices downstairs, and knew damn Al was telling them I had been crying. I could tell by the worried tones that floated up to my room.

Finally, two sets of footsteps came up, the heavy but quiet thuds that identified Matthew and light footfalls that belonged to Aunt Tori.

As soon as Matthew opened his mouth to speak, I threw another pillow at his head. "GET OUT OF HERE, MATTHEW!" I shrieked.

His eyes widened but he silently obeyed, scurrying back down the stairs.

I pulled the comforter over my head and mumbled, "Go away, Aunt Tori."

She sighed and, instead of listening to me, moved closer, sitting down on the bed next to me. She gently tugged the blanket off of me, revealing me looking even worse for wear; my hair was frizzy and tangled from the blanket, and my eyes were swollen as tears rolled down my face again.

"What's wrong, Arthuretta?" she asked, care in her voice. She didn't look like she expected an answer.

I rubbed at one of my eyes and motioned to the door. "Can you go shut that?"

"You're crying because the door is open?" she asked in silent shock.

I shook my head. "I don't want the boys to hear me." She nodded, realizing that if she obeyed me, I might actually tell her the truth. She padded in that quiet manner of her's and shut the door, shutting it with a quiet click and moving back to sit next to me.

She hesitated, then wrapped her arms around me and pulled me to her chest. I noticed that she flinched slightly, waiting for me to push her away. A moment later, though, she relaxed.

"Now, tell me what's wrong."

I sniffled, trying to clear my nose so I wouldn't sound all whiney and sobby. "Al told me in the car that a lot of girls are talking about me."

She made a noise of comfort. "Girls at your age can be cruel. But you know not to listen to them, now don't you?"

I shook my head. "I know, I know. But their words hurt. They are always glaring at me in class, and whispering to themselves while staring at me with those bloody stupid smiles on their faces, always giggling and looking at me like I'm trash."

She nodded and began rubbing circles on my back. "Girls do that when they find something different. Honestly, they're most likely acting like they're saying bad things but discussing things like how they want you're irresistible British accent or something."

She smiled lightly, hoping I would laugh at the joke. Her lips faltered when I glared at the wall behind her.

She sighed in defeat. "I know you probably don't want to hear it, but I can kind of understand why they talk so much about you. I mean, you're clothing isn't exactly all pleasing to the eye."

My glare intensified as the words settled in. So now she was agreeing with those bloody girls.

I grit my teeth, not letting her words ruin the close moment. "I don't have anything girly, and you know this."

She shook her head. "I wouldn't know. You do your own laundry, and you rarely let anyone in your room."

I sighed in surrender and leaned my forehead against her shoulder, wiping away my tears with one hand. "Do you have any advice?"

She pursed her lips and stared blankly at the wall behind me. "Well, do you want a boyfriend?"

I blushed, thankful she couldn't see my face. My head instantly thought of how happy Ludwig and Feliciana were together. "I-I guess." I didn't dare think of any names of boys, not trusting my mouth to not reveal them.

"Then I suggest you try out dressing like a girl."

I pouted, knowing she would say something like that. "I don't know how."

More like I don't know what. I knew how to properly wear a skirt or do my hair—the private school in London, complete with uniforms, was enough lesson. And watching the girls put on their make-up taught me well enough how to apply make-up, their movements memorized by heart.

Aunt Tori pressed her lips into a thin line. "And I'm much too old to know what's in style," she said with a cheerful tone. I pulled back and looked at her face. She didn't look all too old, and I knew that she had the boys when she was, what, fourteen I believe? She could only be about twenty-nine, give or take a few years since I wasn't sure on when she had Al and Matthew.

She smiled slightly at me. "I suggest you make friends with a more kind-hearted girl and ask her for help—"

"I already have one," I stated harshly.

She raised an eyebrow. "Do you have her phone number?" she asked questioningly.

I pulled my flannel sleeve back and showed her my arm.

Her eyes lit up, although she kept her neutral expression. "Then all I can say is call her and ask her to bring you shopping. Unless, of course, she's not at all in the in-crowd—" she cut off as she saw the sharp look I gave her.

She nodded in apology. "Call her up!" She pulled me into a tight hug, then moved to leave my room.

"Aunt Tori?"

She turned her head, looking back at me with one eye. "Hm?"

"Breath a word of this to the boys and I swear I'll run away."

She grinned at me. "Of course, darling." And with that, she left.

I sighed and flopped back onto the bed, letting her words mull around in my head. Well, I could most certainly see why they would look so down upon me. But I didn't honestly care that I looked unkempt. I didn't mind that my appearance wasn't top-notch. What I minded was that the girls treated me poorly because of it.

I sighed and pulled my cell phone out of my pocket.

Might as well give it a shot…

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Oh lord. Hahahaha. First chapter without Francis!

The next chapter was originally part of this one as well, so next chapter's already written! (But the grand total of the two were, like, four thousand words. So I immediately edited it LOLZ)

So, hope you all enjoyed, mon cheris~! Review~!