Sorry for the wait. I thought it would be easier to update this story than my other one, which is why I put that one on hold until the school year ends... but this is turning out to be pretty time-consuming, too. And I don't have any reviews yet, but according to the story stats, it does have readers... So I hope at least a few people were actually looking forward to this chapter.
The ride in Antonio's car had been mostly silent the rest of the way (which, for them, had seemed rather long), so it felt good to be slamming the car doors shut and walking up the front steps to the highschool. And though he technically wasn't part of their friend group, Arthur stayed near them instead of hurrying up his pace or immediately stepping sideways into crowd and away from them—and endured their stupid chatter.
"You know, Gilbert—I don't know about whatever school you went to in Germany," Antonio was saying, "but I don't think this school will let you keep that bird on your shoulder. Or even take it into the school… Because. You know. It's an animal."
"Gilbird is not an it!" Gilbert corrected loudly, briefly attracting some attention from the people around (and they kept on looking because of his near-white hair and the bird on his shoulder). "Und I vould say you should have told me zat earlier, but I vouldn't have left him behind anyvay… But!—it's fine, I can totally fit him inside my pocket…." He then unzipped one of his jacket pockets and scooped a quietly chirping Gilbird off his shoulder to place in there. It fit, but there was a large lump on his front now.
"See!" he said proudly. "He's just zat awesome."
Both of Gilbert's friends sighed as they passed through the front doors, and Francis suddenly noticed something that made his eyes widen very slightly in alarm—and so in the next second, Arthur felt a hand tugging on his shirt and brush against his backside.
"The bloody hell do you think you're doing, Frog?" Arthur practically shouted, half-turning around at once. "Don't grope my arse in public, dammit!"
Francis just smirked. "Part of your shirt was tucked inside your pants, and I am far too gorgeous to be seen wis you like zat. If it bozzers you zat much… I can just wait until we're not in public to grope your ass…."
Arthur scowled at the suggestive smirk he was given (for the second time that morning, he might add) and turned his head back around, harrumphing.
They all slowed to a stop once they were standing in the middle of the commons area of the school, surrounded by many other students either standing in groups or walking around. There were tables with teachers (who had their schedules) lined up around the large room, and they looked around to quickly find the one that applied to them.
"Over there," said Antonio, pointing at the far corner, and he, Gilbert, and Francis started to walk. They supposed it was sort of lucky that all their last names were so close in alphabetical order.
But Arthur wasn't even in the same grade, and so he had to start walking in the other direction, where the Freshman J-Q table was. Francis gave him a parting wink, and he found himself walking away with a confusing mix of relief and disappointment.
Matthew had only been inside the highschool for a total of eight minutes, and he had already had his neck nearly snapped by one of Alfred's crushing side-neck-hugs ("Ha, highschool's exciting already, isn't it, Mattie?"), been ran into by a couple people, and had been shoved into a wall by another one of his brother's unintentionally harsh arm-movements. He swore, Alfred could have easily been in wrestling... (and he would know; he'd been pinned to the floor plenty of times in his life already).
The only lucky thing was that the schedules were already laid out for them on the tables, and there wasn't a huge crowd around them, so he easily found his and then promptly got away from Alfred.
Really, he just wanted to get the hell away from Alfred.
So Matthew made his way across the commons and around all the people to sit by a spot on the wall that was currently uninhabited. He slid down to the ground and let his backpack fall beside him, and then he looked over his schedule—Good, yes, no classes with Al…. But it wasn't really a surprise. He knew he wouldn't have the same electives as him, and he'd always been the (much) smarter twin… so of course Alfred wouldn't have his classes.
Still, it was really good to get away from him…. This alone was the reason that Matthew enjoyed school. Even if he was just as transparent to people here as he was anywhere else.
So technically, the day was starting out pretty well.
There was a considerably less cheerful air now that Yekaterina had moved away from her adoptive siblings… which was only because of her last name being at the opposite end of the alphabet than both of theirs. It was probably the only time Ivan would ever actually regret (or have any feelings toward the fact) having kept his previous last name.
Not that Natalya could have done much while they were in the commons area of the school, with lots of surrounding people…. But having just her was always at least a little uncomfortable. Besides… she didn't like people. Ivan knew that she preferred being alone (with only him as company), and he knew that large crowds could make her unstable and angry.
And he was pretty sure that people were now staring at the both of them, if only for his height (it honestly didn't occur to either of them that his scarf or pipe was attracting attention)—but he didn't really care. A single, smiling glance in their general direction made them all panic and look away, anyway.
Moving his eyes down the rows of schedules, he quickly found Arlovskaya—for Natalya, and Braginski—for him. Ivan handed Natalya's to her and began walking away with her.
It took her no more than five seconds to look over hers, and then she looked up at him and said, "Let me see."
As he handed his schedule to her, he bent down to look over at hers, and—Bozhe moi, they had all the same classes.
The small feeling of horror inside Ivan grew as he reread their schedules a few more times just in case he had read them wrong… but he hadn't. They were the same four classes… which he would be spending with Natalya for at least the rest of the semester…. No…
"Ve… ve haff the same schedule," he said calmly, hiding the dread he felt—which, as he noted the slight smirk on Natalya's face, grew. "Um… but…"
She knew exactly what he was thinking: How is that possible?
"I svitched out, Ivan," she explained, feigned sweetness mingled with an edge of anger in her voice. "After you vent and changed the subjects you told me you vere going to take, I found it and changed mine as vell."
Well, shit. Ivan really had nothing to say to her revealing that she'd known about his deceit… and no doubt she was angry…. Oh God, he was scared now.
The fear in her adoptive-brother's eyes was satisfying. Fear meant submission, and you couldn't have love without some kind of submission… she didn't think so, at least. And the fear meant he was sorry, didn't it?—it meant that he didn't want to hurt her, that he was afraid of her discovering what he'd done because he didn't want her to be upset…. Oh, Ivan was such a jerk to her sometimes, but she loved him anyways, and she knew he loved her.
"Don't ever lie to me again," said Natalya, looking up at him. Her voice didn't match the cold look in her eyes at all.
Then again… Ivan's sweet smile and voice almost never matched his eyes, either.
Ivan nodded, trying at the same time to distance himself enough to where she couldn't grab a hold of his scarf.
"Good."
At that moment, they saw Yekaterina walking toward them, but all Natalya was thinking of was how happy she was that she would have the entire year with Ivan….
And all that he was thinking of was the repeating phrase of Every day vith her… Every single day vith her….
"Ooh—yay, we have all but one class together, Ludwig! And the one is just because I somehow have Pre-AP English, which sort of sucks because you won't be in there—and I'm sure you're more than smart enough to be in advanced classes, but you haven't even been in this school district since fifth grade, so…."
Ludwig just listened and watched as his friend chattered away in his rapidly thickening Italian accent, half-annoyed and half-amused. Feliciano's presence these days was always rather confusing….
He'd been in a hurry to get their schedules the moment they'd gotten off the bus and walked into the school, and Feliciano had been somehow just as eager, but in a more… enthusiastic way. As always, he was simply radiating happiness… and it actually kept Ludwig calm. Against the fact that he was in a new school around hundreds of other students, most of whom he didn't know, and would soon be starting his first highschool classes… it cheered him up.
While Feliciano talked and they walked, Ludwig's eyes moved down to his schedule to compulsively check it once again. Art and Cooking were on his schedule only because he and his friend had agreed to try to have the same classes—and the other boy simply refused to compromise even one of his choices. But he didn't really mind so much.
And it shouldn't have made sense that Ludwig would be put into a class below his level with his grandfather being the principal, but individual students' classes weren't really the man's choice. Apparently, students had to prove themselves capable of taking an advanced class—and those classes had all been full, anyway.
Amongst his thoughts, Ludwig was too busy looking at Feliciano's face to realize, at first, that his Italian friend had stopped talking and was now looking around animatedly.
He paused at the sight of a girl with long, platinum-blonde hair whom he'd seen on the bus, and he smiled widely.
"Oooh, Ludwig, that girl is really pretty…," whispered Feliciano, briefly grabbing his friend's arm. The first thing he thought was of how the girl seemed to have a permanent sort of frown, and he wanted her to smile, because… well, because everyone deserved to smile.
Ludwig didn't like the grin on Feliciano's face, and he liked it even less that he immediately walked away from him and toward that girl without even saying anything. Actually, it was enough for him to stop where he was, stone-faced, and wanting to punch something with his sudden surge of anger (and jealousy?).
"Bella, ciao~!" he started cheerfully, making the girl look up at him and narrow her eyes. He was aware that she most likely didn't speak Italian, but girls always thought it was cute when he did that. "Hi, I'm Feliciano~! Are you a freshman?—because I don't remember you from last year, and I know I would have remembered a pretty girl like you…. What—?"
Throughout that little… greeting, or whatever you would call it, Natalya had already gotten fed up enough with the pathetic-looking kid to plunge her hand into her pocket and pull out her knife. So Feliciano suddenly found himself with a sharp metal blade pointed at his neck, and he jumped back as fast as he could, letting out a girlish shriek in his shock and fear.
"Wha—waaaaa…?" was all he could manage to say, as he now felt like crying. Almost more with confusion than with fear, really—he'd had no idea such a pretty girl would be so scary….
"Get avay—I am Ivan's and Ivan's only!—if you don't vant a knife in your neck—"
But then she was promptly interrupted by a very panicked Ludwig, who had hurried over there as soon as he'd seen the knife and was now grabbing Feliciano's upper arms and protectively pulling him further away. In his alarm, he didn't move from there, but his grip tightened and his arms went around his friend's chest a bit as he glared at the girl.
Registering that he was now in the grip of his bigger, stronger friend, Feliciano suddenly felt much safer… and he also felt a warm flush go through his chest. Maybe I should flirt with dangerous girls more…, he vaguely considered.
Before either Ludwig or Natalya had the chance to say anything, another hand came over the girl's shoulder and grabbed the wrist of the arm that was still outstretched with the knife, pulling it back. Just a slight tilt upward of Feliciano's head told him that it was the tall, scary guy from earlier, and—Oh God, did they know each other?
"Natalya, vos he… harassing you?" said Ivan, smiling at her. He was feeling rather protective over her instead of sorry for the poor bastard she might have wounded if he hadn't interfered.
"I vood call it that—"
"N-no…," Feliciano somehow managed to say and he was starting to cry a little. "I was just b-being nice, I'm—"
"—going. Ve're going." And Ludwig steered his smaller friend around at once, not even glancing back at the psycho girl and her tall friend (who he guessed were Russian, judging by their accent). He hurried to get the backpack that he'd dropped in his panic, then immediately began walking to the other end of the commons.
Before they got out of hearing range, they heard another, female voice say, "You should be careful, Natty—I am thinking this school vood punish you vith more than detention for pulling a knife out on somevun…."
Needless to say, they were confused. But all that was on Feliciano's mind was much he hoped he didn't have those people in any of his classes.
And all that was on Ludwig's mind was relief that this would (hopefully) be sufficiently traumatizing enough to make sure his friend never flirted with any girl ever again.
Which he wasn't going to tell Feliciano about.
Toris noticed his friend's lips pull into sort of a pout as they leaned against the wall and slid down to the floor. Feliks was staring at his schedule with a resolute frown.
"We have, like, no classes together, Toris…. This totally sucks!"
It was almost surprising how upset his friend seemed to be that they wouldn't get to have classes together…. He didn't know whether or not to be glad because of that.
"Well, you already knew that I was going to be in Pre-AP classes," explained Toris calmly, pushing a lock of hair out of his face, "and we were both together when we picked out different electives… so it's not like you should be surprised."
"Yeah, but…" Feliks folded his arms over his knees and huffed. "Whatever. I didn't remember."
"Come on, we still live right next to each other—so it's not like we won't talk everyday. And… maybe this'll be good for you to learn how to do your classwork on your own."
It wasn't that he was bitter from years of practically doing all of Feliks's work for him…. He was just a little tired of it. Honestly, he was a pushover in many ways, and he was always rather quick to say yes whenever his friend asked him to help him with something. And by "help," that meant doing it all for him—which he was pretty sure was because of laziness.
But either way, he was planning on changing that this year. Feliks would be forced to try on his own during class, and Toris would restrict himself to only the actual definition of "helping" when it came to homework.
"Yeah, but you, like, know you're way smarter than me," Feliks whined, leaning his head back into the wall and ignoring the small thump that the impact made.
"I think you can be smart if you try," Toris offered. He neglected to mention that his friend needed to work on his common sense. "Maybe you could do that this year."
Feliks sighed. "…Eh, I'm probably not going to."
Ten minutes inside the school, Gilbird was getting restless, and he still hadn't seen Elizaveta anywhere. Gilbert was starting to get pretty frustrated.
For the first time in a long time, he was opting not to appear almost attached at the hip to his two best friends. Instead, he continued to walk seemingly aimlessly around the commons, pretending to be heading to the drinking fountain (since he still hadn't told Antonio or Francis what he was actually doing).
Until he neglected to realize that there was a girl directly in his path and bumped into her hard enough that he nearly fell over.
"Hey, vatch vhere you're—"
"Oh my God, Gilbert!"
Huh, that voice sounded a bit familiar… but the person that came with it wasn't. At least, not at first—because verdammt, she looked so different that it took him several seconds to recognize her even though she was the person he'd been focusing so hard on looking for.
"Elizaveta!"
His confusion turned to excitement, but then almost directly back to confusion—before she was able to say anything else, his smile half-fell and he said bluntly, "Vhy are you dressed like zat?"
It was an odder sight than he'd seen in an extremely long time…. Elizaveta, who had been more tomboyish than most of the boys all through elementary school, who had actually been convinced she was a boy until a teacher told her that she had lady parts and was therefore female… was wearing a tight shirt. And a skirt. And she had her hair down and grown halfway down her back, rather than tied back in a ponytail.
"Dressed like what?" she asked, frowning with slight alarm and stepping back from having been about to hug him. What? Why was he even talking about her clothes at the first time he'd seen her in three years?
"Like—like a girl!" sputtered Gilbert, throwing his arms forward in a wild hand gesture for emphasis. He really had no idea what to say, but he realized that he really couldn't take his eyes off of this new… her.
Elizaveta couldn't help but laugh a little. "Well… I am a girl, Gilbert."
"Not vhen I left, you veren't! Vhen did zis even happen, vhy—?"
"I grew up, Gil," she told him like she'd told many people before, sighing and now looking almost too serious. She was starting to get annoyed with him, too. "And—oh, you still have that bird…. Heh, you haven't changed a bit, have you?"
"Nope, still as awesome as ever," said Gilbert proudly, but then going on, "…unlike you."
"What?" Taken aback, Elizaveta shifted her stance and narrowed her eyes at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Vhat do you sink?" Now, Gilbert couldn't help but be angry. Though he wasn't completely sure why. "You—you vent all girly vhen I vas gone, und… you're dressed exactly the way you alvays said you never vould! Vhat's next, are you friends vith Roddy now, too?"
At that, her face flushed a notable shade of red, and she mustered up all the indignance she had—really, though, she felt more embarrassed than actually hurt.
"Actually, I'm dating him."
Woah. Did he hear her right? That couldn't have been right…. But was that jealousy rising up in him at the possibility of it being true? And why was he still thinking that she actually looked really pretty with her hair down?
"You—you're… You're zat prissy-boy's girlfriend?" Gilbert said loudly and incredulously, once again attracting attention from the surrounding people. He also looked around in the immediate area for that stupid straight-upward hair curl, which he knew would immediately give away that unawesome prick—but he didn't find it within two seconds, so he looked back to Elizaveta. "But—but ve both used to beat him up all ze time! You're joking; you must be joking, kesesese…."
Gilbert only laughed out of desperation, almost convincing himself that he was right about her not being serious. Because that sort of thing just didn't happen, it was impossible—
"No, Gilbert, I'm not joking!" said Elizaveta, raising her voice as she got angrier and her cheeks grew redder. She didn't care that more people were starting to stare. "We started dating last year, if you must know, and he's really not bad at all! He grew up too!" At this point, she wasn't really sure whether she was defending Roderich or just trying to find a reason to be angry at Gilbert.
"Vell, if you sink I'm suddenly going to start being nice to zat… dummkopf, zen you've—"
"Elizaveta, whe—Oh Gott, it's you again…. I tsought you had left for good. I guess I was wrong."
Roderich's voice and face were bitter as he walked into the scene and glared at the insane albino who had made his life hell for several years, left, and suddenly came back into it. Granted, his current girlfriend had done the same thing… but she didn't bully him anymore. Well, not usually, anyway.
"What are you doing here?" said Roderich before Gilbert could do anything. He put a hand on his girlfriend's shoulder protectively, as though he was prepared to fight the other boy for her sake if he needed to—though he most certainly wasn't, especially not when he would be at risk of getting any of his clothes scuffed up.
Gilbert's red eyes bored into Roderich for a moment, and he wished he could just shoot lasers out of them and through that bastard, but then he looked back and forth between his enemy and his old best-friend. It seemed that guy had sort-of grown a pair over those three years… or maybe he just figured he was safe because Gilbert's friend was his girlfriend now. And if he did, then he was wrong.
"Talking to my friend—vhat does it look like, Roddy?" he finally said—though he was referring to Elizaveta as a friend more to piss him off than because he had forgiven her. Honestly, he didn't know how to feel… betrayed? Yeah, betrayed. She had gone all… different on him, and was romantically invested in the one person he really hated. Except he refused to believe that she truly liked that guy.
"Don't call me 'Roddy,' you—"
"How in ze hell did Liz decide zat you vere good enough for her, anyvay? I find it pretty hard to believe zat she could settle for somevun vimpy und unawesome like you—even vis her vearing a skirt, she's still ze man in ze relationship, isn't she?"
Elizaveta was torn as to whether or not she was enjoying having the two Germans fight in front of her (well, one was technically Austrian), but she then decided that she really hated having Gilbert talk like she wasn't even there. Even more so than the fact he was insulting her boyfriend.
"Gilbert!" she said almost shrilly, stepping forward and stopping her friend before he could threateningly grab a handful of Roderich's shirt (like he looked like he was about to do). "Stop it, just stop it! He might be wimpy, but he's nice, unlike the way you've been since you got here!—and I haven't seen you in three years!"
What, now she was trying to put the blame on him? It was her fault that his feelings were suddenly so confusing, and she had been the one to change so drastically. And it suddenly struck him that this probably wouldn't have happened if he hadn't left to Germany with the rest of his family…. So now he didn't know exactly whom to be angry at.
Somehow, Gilbert calmed down for a second, just staring at her and bunching his fists up at his sides while his face got red enough to match hers. "You hardly ever called me or emailed me vhile I vas in Germany."
Oh… oh. It was suddenly a lot easier to understand why he was acting like this, and her anger and annoyance was starting to abate….
But then the bell rang, cutting everything off, and teachers started helping freshmen find their way to their first period classes. And despite his usual dislike for—well, having to learn, Gilbert took the chance to give one last glare to Roderich before just turning around and charging off, which was the only thing he wanted to do right now. Several people were still staring at him, including Antonio and Francis, who were looking confused and started asking questions the moment they caught up with him.
Elizaveta frowned in the direction Gilbert had stormed off, but she didn't intend to talk about this with her boyfriend, so she quickly made her face calm, as though she didn't care.
"I'll… see you in Chemistry," Roderich said tentatively, feeling awkward but still angry about the German's return. He bent down slightly and kissed her on the cheek, then started in the direction of the Band Hall.
She just sighed, wiped her cheek with her hand, and tried not to think about either of the boys as she walked to her English class.
Aaaanndd... I ended the chapter with angst. Poor Gilbert. I actually ship PruAus more than I ship PruHun, but I've experienced the whole 'friends-growing-apart-because-tomboy-starts-dressing-like-a-girl' thing, and I found it easier to write. Plus, I really don't ship Hungary with anyone other than Prussia or Austria, and I didn't want her to be alone.
Anyway, PLEASE review! I'd actually like to know what you think of the story rather than jst being aware that some people read this. So... who wants to be the first review? :D