Wednesday, November 19th

"I still do not understand why you haven't just told him yet," Linda informed Mail in a harsh whisper as the two of them ate breakfast.

Linda's parents had to leave early for work, so she had decided that spending an hour in the dysfunctional house that Mail called home was better than eating alone. Her reasons became clear once Mail's mother left the kitchen to get ready and Linda began nagging Mail about her new favorite subject. Truthfully, Mail didn't mind that this was the hundredth time she had asked this question, as long as it meant that he could talk about Mello he was happy.

"Because I don't want him to think that I'm some crazy stalker," Mail told her, although he was sure that she expected this answer.

"But you are," she giggled.

Mail gave her a pointed look.

"Sorry," she muttered. "But, if you find him and try to talk to him face to face he's only going to think that you're even more of a stalker."

"I know," Mail confessed. "But I think I could get through to him if we talked in real life. I could get him to understand."

"You're so in love," she rolled her eyes. "I would be jealous, but I can't see myself trying to track the guy down."

"It's a wild-goose chase," Mail sighed. "I don't know where to look at this point."

"Can I ask you a question," Linda's tone had changed to a serious one.

"What?"

"You have to promise not to get upset or anything," she told him.

"Okay," Mail allowed. "What's bugging you?"

"You only actually met this guy once right?" She started. "And when you did all the two of you did was make out. I mean, it's really romantic, but how do you know that you actually like each other?"

"I can't explain it," Mail knew that he was dangerously close to blushing. "And it's not like I'm in love with him or anything, I just know that we think alike, enjoy talking, and are attracted to each other. That's enough to hunt him down, right?"

"I guess," Linda grinned. "Just don't freak him out when you find him."

"No promises."

It had been two and a half weeks since Mail had accidentally met and kissed his online friend. When Mello had explained him his side of the story, Mail had been sorely tempted to tell Mello who he was. Luckily he had been able to stop himself, since it was likely that saying something like that would have ended all future conversations that he could have with the boy. Yet, now that they had actually met, Mail couldn't bring himself to be content with only talking to Mello online. He wanted to see him again, partly because he wanted to kiss him and partly because he was confident that he had finally met someone who understood the way that his mind worked. If they could keep up with each other online, he could hardly imagine what it would be like to have a full conversation with Mello in person.

In the past two and a half weeks Mail had made no progress in finding Mello. He had tried to track down other people who had went to the party via social media, and Linda had even asked around to see if anyone that she knew had met the boy in the leather jacket before. Although many had noticed Mello, and Mail had spotted him in the background of a few of the pictures put online about the party, he hadn't come anywhere near finding him.

If there was one thing that Mail hated it was being late to class. This wasn't because he was worried that he would miss something important, or that his tardy would be marked down in his record. None of this bothered him. He just hated having to stumble into the room and to his desk while everyone's eyes were on him and his teacher shot him a very annoyed look.

This was why Mail was running down the hall of his school. He had spent his lunch hiding in the back of the library, and, since he had no cell phone or computer, had lost track of the time. Now he was late and willing to blame this on an impractical punishment from his parents. Although he was fully aware that most would say it was his own fault for not wanting to eat in the cafeteria like a normal tenth-grader.

Mail had never been the most graceful person, and when he was in a hurry he tended not to pay much attention to his surroundings. When he tripped on his own shoe and fell splat onto the hard cement, there was no one to blame but himself. That didn't mean that there wasn't anyone around to witness him take a nosedive, but Mail knew that the blonde boy standing at the end of the hall was no way responsible for his fall.

"Are you alright?" The kid asked, he swiftly walked to where Mail was and offered him a hand.

"Yeah," Mail lied. The muscles in the arm that he had used to break his fall were screaming. "Thanks."

"Late for class?" The kid asked.

"Yup," Mail sighed. "You too?"

"Free period," the boy replied with a knowing smile.

"Lucky."

"I know right," he said cheekily.

Mail took a second to look the guy over. They boy was wearing the school uniform, but it was clear that he was one of the many students that did not want to be doing so. The sleeves of his collared shirt were pulled up past his elbows and the knees of his black dress pants were torn. This could have been argued to be an accident, but Mail was confident that that boy had made the cuts in his pants on purpose because he liked the way it looked. His tie was hanging loosely and more of the buttons on his shirt were open than done. It was only when Mail was taking in the boy's appearance that he recognized him.

"Hey, didn't I just run into you a couple weeks ago?" Mail asked. "Which makes you the witness of two clumsy embarrassing moments."

"That one was my fault," the boy assured him and Mail laughed.

"I better get to class," he remembered.

"Walk this time," the boy told him.

Mail took off into a run anyway.

"It's getting kind of annoying that you spend half of your time at my house just so that you can talk to your internet boyfriend," Linda said to Mail that afternoon.

"That's not true," Mail couldn't resist adding a joke. "It's also because I'm avoiding my parents."

"I see where I stand," she muttered and when back to her drawing.

"If you just gave me your computer we wouldn't be having this argument," Mail tried to make his tone sly.

"If I gave you my computer your parents would find it and then we'd both be in trouble," she aid flatly. "Sorry, but if you want to talk to him you have to do so here."

"That's fine with me," Mail confessed. "It's just inconvenient that I can't message him during school or at night."

"You want to text him at night, huh?" She waggled her eyebrows.

"Not what I meant," Mail muttered.

"Well maybe you shouldn't have played your video game during class," she pointed out in a practical tone. "If you hadn't gotten yourself into trouble then you wouldn't be grounded in the first place."

"I guess," Mail wasn't in the mood to argue about this subject.

He turned his attention away from Linda and back to the conversation he was having with Mello. Not for the first time in the past two and a half weeks, Mail found himself wondering what Mello looked like under the mask and makeup he had been wearing. Although they had met, it was comical how little of Mello's appearance Mail had seen. If they were to meet again, would Mail be able to recognize him? Mail would like to think that he would some how know that it was Mello, but thoughts like this were overly romantic. Hopefully he'd be able to recognize Mello's voice, because, aside from knowing what the boy's chest and abdomen looked like, he didn't have much else to go on.

Thank you to Corliss Kat, brightnight003, , Carley-Carley-Carley, and Ern Estine 13624 for reviewing!