Disclaimers: I do not own FMA.

A/N: Edward's POV for this chapter. (Any typos, please excuse.)

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Explanation Number Two

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I'm not stupid. I have books. I know what puberty is.

It's really annoying though. What's kind of cool is that I should get taller, but so far nothing has happened but my voice squeaks and my cock's getting longer. I think my balls have gotten just a little bit bigger, but whatever.

It's sort of funny, too. I know that I act like it really pisses me off when people laugh because I try to scream, or I try to mumble, or I try to talk, and my voice rasps and I squeal and I have a hoarse, high pitch at the end of every vowel, but it really is amusing, I know. That started to happen around early June, and…it's about mid-August now, and school has started.

When my voice started to change, I was so freaked out. I would stay up ten times later than Alphonse, digging through all the books I could find, trying to find some medical texts that would explain what I already knew was happening. When I couldn't find enough on it, I cornered my brother in the kitchen one afternoon and told him, "Al. Listen to me, I know what I am talking about, and I think that you're going through puberty. So why don't you go to the library and get some books? We can talk if you need to."

I tried so hard not to laugh my ass off at the way he looked at me. He looked so horrified, so startled, like he really trusted me. Which, I guess it is pretty believable, even if it was something rare for me to say. But then again, everything I say or do is unexpected. Right?

He ran to the library and checked out five books. Once he'd finished studying them and fell asleep, I read them. And I knew what was going on.

Alphonse and I stay up until at least one in the morning, every night, for the past five, six months. We bring our blankets and pillows and a long stock of candles and lamps into the den to research until we fall asleep. During the day while we clean the house (for Mom's sake; it was Al's idea), while we do chores, while we run around and play games with Winry and her dog – we always study, too. We recite things to each other as perfectly as we can; we use ourselves as a type of living notebook. Winry will always yell at us, "What are you guys babbling about?" and then get completely pissed when we just laugh at her.

Sure, I feel bad that we're hiding this from Winry. But I don't want to drag her into this. If something happened to her, I would feel…so guilty. And when I feel guilty, it never ceases to eat at me. That's just who I am.

During the summer days, arguing, wrestling, running, laughing, splashing, talking, playing – I'd been sneaking as many glances, as many meticulous glances, as I could at Winry. The books I'd read talked about pubescent girls as well: about their body changing not only on the inside but the outside. I'll admit that I had already noticed that she was getting slimmer, getting taller, getting…rounder. It made me nervous to be around her. All of a sudden, while we played our childish games and had our childish fights, I couldn't look at her without thinking, "Beautiful. Amazing. Wonderful."

I tried to study more, to wrap myself in my research like a security blanket. But my thoughts consumed me even in my dreams. It was as if it wasn't my imagination talking in my sleep, but my mind, for real. I was thinking even as I slept, and I remembered it all.

I kept trying to tell myself that it was just that ugly word, the word that haunted every corner of my book pages – puberty. In late July it hit me; I was too stubborn to accept anything. I was too fatheaded to realize that I really liked Winry, as more than just a sister.

And of course, I, Edward Elric, am so intractable that I pushed that idea away and completely forgot about it.

Things changed, though. When I was around Winry, I felt so inferior. I was so nervous. I tried to stay away from her but when I did, the world was boring. I couldn't focus on my studies. I couldn't do chores knowing that I had sent Alphonse, my little ten-year-old brother, out there to play with the girl that I wanted to be playing with.

I don't mean my stomach just twisted up and I was a little anxious. I mean I was sweating, I felt like jelly, my heart was racing in my chest, and I just wanted to put my arms around her. I found myself thinking about kissing her more and more. Just on the cheek, but maybe more.

Once I even got a hard on and I was really pissed off at myself. It came from nowhere.

Then this one night came, this one night about two, two and a half weeks before school started. Alphonse and I had eaten dinner at Winry's house and then stayed for about an hour afterwards for pie and games. We laughed in the living room, ran around playing a very determined game of tag, and then set out to hurry back down the hill in the faded light and glowing fireflies.

I didn't realize what I was saying. Winry and I were laughing about something (I can't remember what) and out of nowhere, I waved, and blurted, "Okay, I love you, bye."

She had frozen right there, the smile twitching off her face and her cheeks turning red. I remember just staring at her, my heart leaping into my throat, utterly terrified and so embarrassed. I dropped my hand and looked at her a little longer, my eyes wide and my throat dry. She looked really pretty that night, I remember that much. She was wearing a blue tank top and a denim skirt, and in the dim light from the living room behind her I could see one of her bra straps slipping out from beneath her tank. Her hands were dangling near her stomach, falling slowly from her own returned wave. Her smile was disappearing but her lips were parted and her blonde hair fell around her shoulders, free from her ponytail or any other restriction. A bit of her bangs fell across one eye, and then she smiled really bright and said so softly I could barely hear her, "Yeah, I love you too, good night."

Then she closed the door quickly and Al called to me from the front yard, "Brother, what's wrong? Let's go back now! Teratomas, brother, c'mon."

"That's crap!" I remember spinning around and laughing at my brother's innocent teasing. "We're not working towards a teratomas, it's a real illegal act. Aren't we bad ass!"

We both laughed and I hopped the last steps of the Rockbell porch, taking off towards our house in a race with Alphonse. He was laughing for real tonight, and for some reason I felt like I had a horrible weight lifted off my chest. One of many, that is.

It all sort of fell into place. We hid it for a little bit, sneaking kisses and holding hands when no one looked. But then it all changed, and drastically. I wanted more, desperately. She was chaste but she told me that she wanted to feel my hands. One night we made out, and since that night we'd be inseparable.

School started and I chose a desk near hers. We laugh and whisper and talk all day. Breaks only mean more holding each other, more talking, more teasing, more of her playful squeals and smacks and more of me running away howling as she chases me.

The guys congratulate me, like the ignorant, hormonal idiots they are. I always feel like they're too stupid. I never hang around them much. I never did anyway. It's always been me, Winry, and Alphonse.

Gregh told me once, "Man, you're so lucky. She's really hot." I looked at him sharply and gave him a slight shove with my shoulder, frowning. "Shut up," I said. "I am lucky and I'm sorry that you're just an idiot obsessed with titties. Go find Sen."

Winry hates Sen.

Sen hates Winry.

Its one of those girl rivalries that we never really understand. People always stare at us, or point and whisper, during break when I kiss her, or when she hides her face in my neck. When we hold hands in a teacher's view (I do this to make her mad. I'm good at that.) they always tell us to back off or they'll send us to the office.

They never do, no matter how many times it happens.

Lately I've been lacking in my studies. Winry never leaves my mind. She has to have noticed how touchy I've gotten. But I can't help it. I'm not going to just tell her this, but I want to touch her. Somewhere under her dresses and shorts and skirts and pants and shirts. I want to make her go crazy. I read in the puberty book that girls really like to be touched, and I guess that's a good thing because I really, really want to touch Winry Rockbell.

If she's opposing it, she hasn't showed any signs.

Maybe one day soon I'll bring it up.

I'm trying hard to get my mind off of it but the more I study the more I wonder what Mom would think and the more I wonder what I'm supposed to do now.

"Equivalent exchange," I tell her all the time.

Equivalent exchange.