Chapter two is here! Please forgive me for slow updates, school is getting in the way of my everything. But to explain some things here Maka is on the school volleyball team, I mean, doesn't she seem like the leggy type? And Soul may or may not box (like, Rocky IV kind of box) in his spare time. He also knows how to ballroom dance. What a guy~

Anywhore, PLEASE R&R, it's what keeps me writing! TwT

I know that you know that I know that I don't own Pizza Hut or manholes or Frank Sinatra. You know.

Enjoy~!

Swinging back the jumbo kitchen door, Maka bit into her apple heartily in greeting as Liz simply nodded and Patti threw some flour in her general direction, the two making their new dough supply.

"Sorry for the wait!" she began, wiping the white powder from her cheek. "Practice ended up longer than I expected. Some punk decided it would be funny to take one of our nets and tie the two exit door handles shut from the outside. We're lucky the soccer team was passing through, or else nobody would have come to help us!"

Liz rolled her eyes at the juvenile prank while wiping her powdery hands on her apron, afterwards walking up to Maka an d laying one hand on her dainty shoulder.

"I swear Maka, the things kids do these days. You definitely have my sympathies; I wouldn't know what it's like to live amongst your sad generation."

"Liz, you're two years older than me."

"Regardless."

Patti hollered out a series of laughs while as she applied pepperonis to the white dough, conveniently shaped into a giraffe, the circles of meat substituting as its spots. "You guys are a hoot, a HOOT I'm tellin' ya!" She giggled out. "Sis, didja take a good look at Maka's little outfit? Huh?"

The older Thompson blinked in realization that she did not, so she turned to set the high-schooler a distance of two feet away, her hands set firmly on her shoulders. After an excruciating seven seconds, Liz squealed in a frequency only heard by giant squids at the bottom of an ocean trench. Did she really just spy a cutesy volleyball uniform?

"Albarn! Holy shit, do you even KNOW what you're wearing?!"

"And just what is that supposed to mean?!"

"What it friggin means is that you. Are wearing. Bootyshorts! Spandex ones, not to mention! God, sign ME up for next volleyball season."

"Oh...well, the uniform is comfortable I guess."

"Comfortable? Just comfortable? Honey, you look good enough to turn a couple straights sideways."

She reddened on sight at the...compliment, she presumed?

"Oh, don't give me that look Maka! You should know by now you have an ass and a set of legs to die for. But did you seriously walk through the mall with THAT number on?"

"Well, yeah. My change of clothes is the Death Hut uniform, and I don't think I can wear that around, or else I'll end up getting accused for cutting. Why'd you ask?"

Liz shook her head with a smirk, also noticing how Maka's high ponytail was coming a little undone, a teasing amount of neck showing behind its curtain of wheat blonde hair. "Cause-"

"Cause with your ass on display like a steaming, seasoned chicken, boys were prolly droolin' all over the place!" Patti finished with an enthusiastic titter of laughter.

Maka looked at her clothes with an embarrassed blush. Had she really been dressed so promiscuously? She eyed her black shorts, noticing how they barely reached over the swell of her butt, and her white striped knee socks that reached cheekily to the top of her calves. Her blouse was modest enough, with no sleeves and a v-neck cut, matching with the shorts in blackness and a logo of the school on the front, a single goofy-looking skull staring into oblivion. Let Maka tell you right now, her chest was nothing to brag about. Barely scraping into the B-cups was something she preferred to keep to herself, and she always thought the blouse she was wearing made her little problem more pronounced than necessary.

Sensing her distress, Liz followed Maka's line of vision until she came eye to eye with a miniature bosom and above it an indignant pout. Liz blew a stray hair from her face in frustration, the other girl looking up in question. She took both of Maka's hands in hers, thumbing her digits soothingly.

"Maka, if you haven't noticed by now, let me be the first to tell you that a small chest isn't a bad thing."

Maka creased her brows in disbelief, but still allowing her to hold her hands in their friendly embrace.

"Look, you think big tits are what all guys want? Not the case, girlie. It's all about how you use the attributes you were given, not what you start out with!"

"Still Liz, no high school senior should be able to fit into her ninth grade bra."

"Even so. You know, some guys have a thing for teen boppers! Some sort of ripe, perky fetish."

"Oh yeah, then who?"

"Oi, who the fuck put wet dough in my apron pocket?!"

"Hehehehe~"

"Goddammit Patti, if you couldn't run me over like a sixteen wheeler I would-"

"Sowwy Soulie! I've got register duty now~"

"Hey, don't just go and- THOMPSON! Shit."

A heavy silence soon followed, leaving the room in a tense battle of 'who wants to start the first awkward conversation?'

"...you were saying, Maka?"

"JUST HOW WAS THAT THE ANSWER TO MY QUESTION ELIZABETH?"

"Oi pigtails, you trying to talk to China or somethin'?" Soul turned to face her as he blindly continued. "What the hell is your problem now? Did you max out your library card again, cause- JESUS CHRIST!"

His red eyes widened noticeably, and the usual dull red was lit aflame in shock and something else Maka couldn't place. She titled her head in reply, unsure of what gave him such a shock. Liz snickered evilly in the background.

"Albarn, are you aware of what you'rewearing? Did Star swap your clothes again or...Jesus."

"Havin' trouble talkin' Eater? Is something...distracting you today~?"

Soul muttered a "shuddup Liz" and averted his eyes to the ceiling, trying to gain back his totally broken cool as he mussed his white hair into something even messier than before. No matter how much he stared into the paneling, he still couldn't get those big green eyes and fidgeting ivory legs out of his psyche. Did she seriously have to wear striped knee socks, the ones he bought for her wordlessly on her birthday because he ran out of gift ideas? Why did that make him blush harder and mess up his hair further?

"You guys are off your rockers today. I'm going to change out of these, the stink from my sweat is starting to make my eyes water, and I'm sure that's why I got so much attention. Geez Liz! You could've told me I smelled like a wet gym sock in a nice way."

And thus Soul realized Maka was as dense as led and sighed in relief (wait, why was he sighing?) and Liz internally combusted from two idiots unable to read between the lines of their own strange relationship. They had been so close! Maka was in short shorts and her skin glossy from exercising, and Soul was at a loss for snarky, mood-killing comebacks; goddamn that girl and her asexual brain, always over-analyzing things!

"I guess I'll have to resort to more draconian methods..."

"Didn't catch that Liz, what did ya say?"

"Oh! I uh, just got news Patti got her head trapped in a manhole again!"

"Holy shit-"

"So yeah, gotta buy chicken fat to slide that sucker out! You can take my late shift, right Soul?"

"I...err..."

"WOW, that's a weight off MY chest!" She put a hand to her heart in mock appreciation. "So see you later! Bye!"

The employee double doors opened before he knew it, and the elder Thompson was gone with a swish of the rubber air conservers on the tile floor. Soul closed his eyes in aggravation, tapping a finger irately on the metal sink he was now leaning against to an unknown and erratic beat. He was about to check in and ask for the day off; he and Star had a basketball match to settle, Black*Star betting that he could cream him on-one-on one by as many points as days he skipped working at Death Hut. Even Soul had to sit back and appreciate all the hookies his oldest friend made, forty-seven points was quite lot to win by. Damn idiot bailed out on the job that was supposed to be their "bro time".

Now he had to break it to the blue (yes, he dyed it electric blue on a bet. Go fucking figure) monkey and call off their match.

Before he even slid his hand into his jeans pocket Maka re-entered the kitchen, clad in her usual frilled apron over a collared tee and slacks, and a neat ponytail in place of her previously messier one. It was almost hard to imagine those endless legs and striped socks were just beyond two mere plain pant legs. Had she always had those, or were they courtesy of her volleyball training? Soul found himself eager to find out.

When he looked at her, Maka appeared to be giggling to herself, and when he inquired with a silver brow raised, she fingered her ponytail in fondness.

"Did you check the oven? I saw a giraffe shaped pizza! I mean, wow. Patti sure outdid herself."

He smiled in return, liking the relaxed aura she emitted, the one she never got around to sharing. "Thought our dough shortage was a little weird. Must've all gone to that bastard's neck."

"I guess...Hey, where did Liz go?"

"Oh, she uh..." He didn't want to think about sewer systems and raw chicken at the moment, or ever actually, so he summarized. "Patti business."

Maka could empathize. The cringe on her face was mirrored by his, though hers lacked a certain serrated edge.

"Yeesh. Poor Liz..."

"You're tellin' me. Anyways-" Soul yawned and lazily stretched, Maka pointedly ignoring how he chose to skip the uniform for today and simply put on an apron over another tee-shirt and low riding basketball shorts ensemble, and how his neck deliciously contracted and relaxed, "you and I are stuck here till eight, and it's the slowest day of the week."

"Oh…" Maka started to make her way to the cash registers, keeping her eyes on her shoes and not his chiseled collarbone. "Alright. So are we going to just-"

A sudden drumbeat cut her off without further ado, and seconds later the smooth voice of Frank Sinatra filled the near empty mall, whatever persons still lingering on a boring Wednesday night not minding the sudden music. Maka, on the other hand, did give a damn about the instant background music, and soon found Soul hooking his iHome to an outlet by the back counter, drawing out a playful flute and deep bass strums accompanying "Fly Me to the Moon."

His strange and insistent smile along with the savory steam of a pepperoni giraffe in the oven caused miniature flutters behind her otherwise steady green gaze, and Soul strode in time with the beats of smooth jazz to meet her eyes.

"Thought this place needed some life."

"So you brought a DJ system in your backpack."

"It's a charging station with speakers, smart guy. Plus, now you get to dance to some quality music."

"Dance? Soul, are you serious-?"

"Why else would I have brought my baby out of the safety of my room? Friggin YES, Maka, I'm serious."

She fidgeted and tried to level herself. Why did he have to do weird quirky things like these? She preferred it when it was easy to call out on his asshole-ery.

"But I don't know how to-!"

"I can teach you as we go along. After all, you're a pretty fast learner, muffin."

"I told you to stop calling me confectionary snacks, and still! Maybe I should-"

"Come 'ere. Frank isn't doing encores tonight."

"SOUL!"