Sorry for the long wait but thanks for all the feedback... I wanted to incorporate the Crest of Sincerity into her personality for this chapter…


.o3 they sit there everyday


The end of the day came a half hour ago, and yet he's still sitting there underneath the tree like his butt has been superglued to the grass. (Which is silly because no person in their right mind would purposely glue and deprive the world of such a fine behind.) With a sigh, I tighten my grip around the handle of my bag as I make my way across the field.

For the past few days we've been sitting together at lunch, and he's been taking quite an interest in my interpretation of Elizabethan literature, much to my dismay. I think I'm doing much more harm to his English education that he thinks, but it's the only thing we've really been able to talk about… the only thing I think he feels comfortable talking about to me.

I'm usually terrific at getting people to open up and spill all their secrets, but this guy isn't the type who likes to talk about anything underneath the surface. Essentially, all I know about him is that he's in class 4B, his favorite subject is English, he listens to rock music and likes to eat peanut butter. Oh, and his name is Yamato.

Yama-to. Yam-mama-to. Yama. Mimi. Mimi-to… (giggle)

He looks up from his book suddenly, smiling faintly as he sees me approach him. "What'cha still doing out here?"

He smiles politely but he doesn't answer. See what I mean? He's totally reserved… which just makes getting to know him all the more interesting… (Oh, I so have the makings of a detective!)

I kneel down and turn my head to the side with a smirk. "You read more than my friend Joe, and that's saying a lot."

He sighs in amusement, keeping his eyes fixated on the page. "It's relaxing."

I shake my head furiously with a giggle. "No way! Not school related reading."

"There are many kinds."

"But they all turn out to be boring anyway."

Yamato raises his eyebrow at me. "It depends… Some pieces are well worth your time to read." He glances back down at the book. "It makes you think."

I frown slightly. He wasn't getting the fact that I wasn't going to budge on my opinion of educational books, and if he were anyone else, he would've moved on to another topic by now that involved a price tag and credit cards.

If he were anyone else… Which he's not because, well, he's him. And he can't be someone else at the same time because that must be a violation of some scientific law. And I'm sure Albert Einstein proved that with an apple or something.

(Perhaps I'd make a great scientist instead…)

"You know," I say, sitting comfortably on the grass. "You're not the typical peanut-butter-eating-rock-music-listener type of person." I smile, hoping he'll follow suit.

He does. "Is that so?"

"It is so," I can't help giggling. He seems very amused with my analysis, which is terrific because that's one of my best skills: figuring people out. And once I figure him out, he'll be so impressed and we'll hug and kiss and make beautiful children!

(… or adopt, thanks to health class.)

I place a finger to my chin and stare at him, hoping he thinks it's cute and not creepy. Then again, my face totally always says cute and not creepy. (Sometimes it says 'idiot.' But that's Taichi's opinion, and Taichi's opinion has no merit.) "You actually seem to like this Shakespeare stuff," I say feeling all psychologist-like.

(Psychology! That's where my future lies!)

He shrugs, probably realizing that it's useless to argue with me.

I grin widely. "I bet your parents just want you to excel in school. The usual, am I right?"

He flinches slightly, his whole demeanor suddenly changed as he fixes his eyes on the page. "Nope," he replies coldly.

I swallow at his reaction and fold my hands over each other. I must've said something wrong. Offended him in some unintentional way. Like when Joe says "It's only a sweater, Mimi." and I have a mental breakdown because I know that it's THE sweater and Joe doesn't appreciate fashion the way I do – and oh dear! I must have just done something of the sort right this moment to Yamato.

I have to take it all back or he'll never talk to me again. Never want anything to do with me, or even see me, and those poor children in Yemen will never be adopted –

"Then why do you read it?! Something some dead guy wrote hundreds of years ago in a language no one even uses anymore! EEP-!" I suddenly clasp my hand around my mouth, my eyes wide in shock at how rudely and unexpectedly I just blurted that out.

Yamato stares at me in surprise, his hands frozen on the pages.

Words scrabble desperately on my tongue. "No – wait. I'm sorry, I meant – Well…" Oh I hate myself. I'm bad, bad, bad. Perhaps I'm destined to be an evil villain instead. One whose super power is to carelessly crush the values of handsome people everywhere.

I can never lie very well when I have a strong opinion about something. Everything always has to come out honestly when I speak. Which is probably both a virtue and a vice. Tragic, really. I shake my head apologetically. "I'm sorry, really. It was – It didn't come out the way – Well, it wasn't supposed to come out at all and well… "

He nods tentatively as if in agreement, still bemused. There's an awkward silence that follows as I keep my gaze on the ground and he keeps his on me. In my mind, I count the number of seconds, then minutes, that pass by. "You know," he finally speaks, voice low. "You're… You're not a typical… pink haired girl."

I glance up at him, not really sure how to respond. He's smirking faintly.

"You're… You're a little stu-… strange."

I suddenly feel like my body's going to curl up like a sushi roll from the embarrassment. (Which is silly, physically impossible, and must violate another apple law.) Of all the things I had imagined him saying to me once we got to know each other better, "strange" definitely wasn't one of them. But then again, I hadn't expected I would so openly insult his tastes either.

With an honest sigh, I get on my knees and make a motion to stand with what integrity I have left….

And use it.

"Well you're not so normal yourself either, buddy." I pick up my bag off the ground, huffing frustratedly. "You sit here every day in those ugly shoes reading a boring book that's not even in your native language and completely shut yourself from the world around you."

(I reinstate my earlier notion of being a psychologist.)

"And you call me strange?" I say, folding my arms across my chest. "Well at least I'm not WEIRD." I pause. "Like you." And stomp off.

I feel really good about how I handled that. Really. Well, I kind of have to in order to make my grand exit effective. Ugh. Never again am I falling for a guy who doesn't completely agree with everything I say.

"Wait!"

I freeze, my eyes wide again but this time for a different reason. My heart suddenly beats a lot faster than usual, and my hands feel a little numb as I hear his footsteps walk over the grass.

"Wait," he says again. And he must be one of those good-looking-stupid-people because I'm already standing still. "I… I didn't mean to call you 'strange'. I'm… sorry if I… hurt your feelings or whatever."

I turn around, frowning. He's not getting off that easy. I'd whack Taichi with my lunch tray if he ever called me something as absurd as 'strange'. Although… Taichi isn't a cute blonde boy with his hands buried in his pockets and his pretty blue eyes forced to stare at the soil in guilt. It makes me want to go easy on him. Sort of.

"I'm just… I'm not really good… around people," he mumbles.

"Well, fine… but you must know it's not good to call people 'strange,'" I answer, narrowing my eyes.

He lifts his face, suddenly narrowing his eyes too. "And you must know to keep your rude opinions to yourself," he retorts.

"I was trying to make conversation!"

"You were trying to get on my nerves!"

"Well, now you're on my nerves!"

"Well so are you!"

"Yeah?!"

"YEAH!"

I growl underneath my breath and ball my fists at his answer. A raindrop splashes against my forehead from above, and I furiously wipe it away before it makes me look like I'm crying. And that's so not cool when I'm having the most intense staring contest of the century with my ex-crush.

Another raindrop dies all over my eyelashes. I blink instinctively. Dammit!

Gripping the handle of my bag, I whirl around and march off. It'll be raining anytime soon and I do not wish to be caught umbrella-less in a thunderstorm while still having to be on guard and tough. The sound of his retreating footsteps tells me he has the same idea.

A sudden rush of raindrops makes me pick up my pace toward home. Today was just an awful experience that I never want to think about again. It's a good thing I got to see this side of him before I started (continued) to write his name all over my notebooks. This side of him that's all angry and loud… and confident… and defensive… (Heh, it's actually a bit of a turn on…)

I slow down. Hesitantly, I turn around to look at the tree we were under just a few moments ago. I spot him trying to scramble together his books and stuff them underneath his jacket from the pouring rain. Silly thing didn't even think to bring a bag with him.

Some unexplained feeling inside of me makes me walk back to him. Makes me jog back to him with my bag swinging underneath my arm. Something that has to do with the fact that he's "not good around people" and that he reads because it makes him "think." Something that has to do with the fact that he's virtually always by himself and probably lonely. And top that with his hideous shoes and you've got a pretty miserable person underneath a rainy sky.

"Hey!" I call out when I get near. I unzip my bag and hold out my arm. "Give me the books, I'll put 'em in here!"

He gives me a doubtful look before handing them over, and I read "thanks" in his eyes when I don't hear him say it. We stand awkwardly in front of each other as water slides down our faces. "We should get somewhere dry," he says over the rumble of thunder.

I nod. "There's an overhang in front of the school… around the corner!"

He starts jogging. I grab his wrist.

"No! The other corner!" I correct him, pulling him behind me in the proper direction.

He nods slowly, and I roll my eyes. I quickly release his wrist as soon as he's caught up and the overhang is within sight. A funny sensation fills me as I suddenly realize that this is the first time we've ever been anywhere but underneath that stupid tree.


Please R&R