Friday, November 21st

"You need to put the sand in the filter paper now," Mail's lab partner's voice broke through his train of thought.

"Right," Mail quickly did as she told him. "Sorry."

"You're spacing out more than normal today," she remarked.

"Sorry," he repeated. "Chemistry is my space out class."

"Put it in the beaker now," she instructed.

"Why am I doing everything?" he asked as he places the cone of filter paper into the glass beaker.

"Because if you don't you're not going to do anything," she answered. "Just don't break anything this time."

"Got it," Mail chose not to get offended by this. "I pour the water now, right?"

"Yes," she handed him the beaker containing 20mL of tap water. "Then we wait for it to filter the salt through."

"Alright," Mail placed the empty water beaker on their desks next to the tray containing the experiment.

"Are you free tonight?" she asked him, out of the blue.

"Huh?" Mail asked back before his brain could form a more eloquent response.

"My sister and her friends rented out three bowling lane and bailed at the last minute," she explained. "I'm trying to get as many people to come so we don't waist the money."

"Sorry, I'm grounded," Mail confessed.

And antisocial, he didn't add.

"Oh, that's too bad," she shrugged.

"Halle?" he asked as he directed his attention back to their lab. "What was the next step?"

"You're going bowling with your friend tonight," Mail' mother told him the second that he walked through the door.

Mail had hoped that, after spending the last half hour walking home with his heavy school bag on his back, he would be able to sneak to his room without a confrontation with either of his parents. Like most of Mail's hopes, this one was quickly dashed.

"I'm what?"

"Your friend, Halle I think her name was, called the house ten minutes ago," she said. "She invited you to go bowling with some of the other kids from your school."

"I know, she asked me in class today," Mail cut in. "But I told her I couldn't because I'm grounded. I am still grounded, right?"

"Yes," she told him in a stern voice. "But I've decided to give you a short break tonight."

"I don't want to go," Mail admitted. "Can I have a break tomorrow."

"Darling." Mail had learned long ago to brace himself for the worse whenever his mother addressed him by that word. "You need more friends from your school. This will be good for you."

"I never said that I don't have any friends," Mail tried to object.

"You're going."

"Fine," he sighed.

Mail knew that the more he argued, the more set in her ways his mother would become. About two hours later he found himself being dropped off outside of a bowling alley that he had been to only once before in his life. Linda had refused to go with him, claiming that she had too much homework and didn't like bowling anyway. Mail had to pay for shoes at the door, even though he doubted that he'd do anything aside from watch Halle and her friends bowl. It took him all of two seconds to spot the three lanes that Halle had reserved, and another four seconds to recognize the blonde sulking to the side of the lane closest to the wall.

"Hi," he greeted Mihael.

Mihael had been staring at the screen of his cellphone, but slid it into his pocket when he saw Mail.

"We're running into each other a lot," Mihael commented blandly. "One of us should keep score."

"You don't look happy to be here," Mail remarked as he sat down on the bench next to Mihael.

"Halle forced me against my will to come," Mihael explained.

"Oh," Mail processed this. "Are you guys dating?"

Mihael's expression contorted into one of mixed amusement and horror.

"No," he stated. "Not at all."

"Sorry," Mail felt this was the right thing to say given Mihael's reaction.

"No, it's okay," Mihael was laughing now.

Mail's gaze drifted to Halle and her friends. He could recognize most of the kids bowling from their school.

"You're not going to join a game?" Mihael inquired.

"Maybe later," Mail shrugged. "I haven't gone bowling since I was seven. I'm not all that excited about embarrassing myself."

"If you don't want to bowl then why are you here?" Despite the condensation that these words would normally give, Mail herd no malice in Mihael's voice.

"I'm grounded."

Mihael raised an eyebrow, the amused expression back on his face.

"I mean," Mail started in an attempt to explain. "I'm supposed to be grounded, but my mother forced me to come because she thinks I need more social interaction."

"Okay," Mihael drew out the word.

"It sounds weirder than it is," Mail said in his defense.

"I'll take your word for it," Mihael said. "Why are you grounded?"

"I got caught playing a video game in class," Mail stated.

Mihael didn't look surprised, but Mail knew that he was hardly the first high schooler to get in trouble on those grounds.

"Do you play games a lot?" Mihael asked.

"Yeah." Mail decided to elaborate. "Usually I do on gaming websites. You know, when I'm not grounded and actually have my computer."

Mihael nodded. He looked like he was about to say something before an abrupt, annoyed look crossed over his face. Mail followed Mihael's line of vision, which had rested on a short boy with page white hair who was sitting to the side of the lane Halle was bowling at.

"I don't care if you're bored! You're the one who wanted to come," Mihael shouted at the boy.

The boy narrowed his eyes at Mihael but didn't shout back.

"Did you just have a telepathic conversation?" Mail couldn't stop himself from asking.

"He's my brother," Mihael seemed to think this was explanation enough. "What were you saying?"

"Something about video games," Mail shrugged, then decided that the conversation was too focused on him. "What do you do on your free time?

That was how the two launched into one of the most interesting conversations of Mail's life, starting with books, touching on the reasons why Mihael refused to watch or read any of the popular fanbases, and ending with how Mail's hair was actually natural.

"You're lying," Mihael decided.

"Why would I lie about my hair? I'm not a girl," Mail exclaimed.

"You are not born with hair that red," Mihael stuck to his opinion.

"Well I'm not proving it if that's what you're hinting at," Mail crossed his arms.

"No," Mihael laughed. "I was not hinting at that in the slightest."

"Excuse me for not understanding the brain of someone who hasn't even read Harry Potter," Mail huffed.

"That is unfair ammunition," Mihael complained.

"Everyone I know has read Harry Potter," Mail nearly shouted in mock exasperation.

"Did you zone out when I explained that if I'm going to read fantasy I'd rather read a classic?" Mihael asked. "Besides, my brother burned my house's copies of that series."

"What?" Mail glanced over the the white haired boy.

"No, not that brother," Mihael told him. "The crazy one."

"Oh," Mail wasn't sure what else to say.

"But he only burned them because L hadn't finished reading the fifth one," Mihael seemed to not realize how little of an explanation this was.

"How many siblings do you have?" Mail asked, picking through the jumbled information Mihael had just given him.

"Too many," he said flatly. "Three brothers, but two of them are in university now. What about you?"

"Unfortunately none," Mail remarked.

"At least your house is arson free," Mihael replied.

As much as Mail was enjoying talking to Mihael, the fact that time was very slowly dripping by began to get on his nerves. Both he and Mihael had to wait until the end of the party before either of them could go home. They soon discovered that depended on when Halle and her friends finally decided that they were bored.

"They'll get kicked out of the place sooner," Mail had realized after the first hour and a half.

"That might be a possibility," Mihael had said. "If this lasts another hour Near might steal the pins from that empty lane and make a tower."

"Then he and you will get kicked out, not the entire group of us." Mail reasoned.

"Probably," Mihael shrugged. "But that solves my problem."

"Thanks for abandoning me," Mail deadpanned.

"Don't worry. I'll make it look like you were our accomplice," Mihael assured him.

"And I'll be grounded for even longer," Mail predicted.

"If your parents have to force you into 'social interaction,' I don't get what you're missing out on while grounded."

"I guess not much," Mail admitted. "But I can only play video games once or twice a day on my friend's computer."

"I'd like to think that you could survive without that," Mihael's tone was bland.

"Well, it's not just video games," Mail wasn't sure why he was trying to defend how he spend his ungrounded free time.

"Do you have a girlfriend you miss texting or something?" Mihael asked in an unreadable tone.

"Not a girlfriend," Mail said before he could stop himself.

"Boyfriend?" Mihael sounded casual, which was somewhat of a relief. However, Mail hadn't meant to say anything implying that he was gay or that he was sort-of (not really) involved to someone he had only met a few days ago.

"Not exactly." Mail knew that, if he wanted to drop the subject, his word choice was poor at best.

Mihael raised an eyebrow.

"I'd rather not talk about it," Mail muttered.

"Oh," Mihael looked slightly taken-a-back. "Okay, that's fine."

Bollocks, Mail thought. Now I offended him.

"I mean," Mail tried to make his voice sound as neutral as he could. "He's not my boyfriend, and he doesn't know I want him to be, but that's mainly because he doesn't know that we met in real life, but that's my fault because I didn't exactly tell him."

"What?" Mihael gave Mail the utterly baffled expression that Mail knew he had been giving him all night.

"That didn't make an sense, did it?" Mail cursed the blush that was beginning to heat his face.

"Try not speaking in run-on sentences," Mihael suggested.

"Okay."

Five minutes later Mail had spilled the his and Mello's entire story to Mihael.

"Wow," Mihael murmured once Mail was finished.

"You think I'm insane," Mail stated.

"No," Mihael said quickly. "No, I don't think you're insane. Borderline stalker, maybe, but you definitely have your brain intact."

"That does not make me feel any better," Mail groaned.

"It wasn't supposed to," Mihael cracked a smile. "So you like him that much?"

"Yeah."

"Well," Mihael face took on a pensive expression as he drew out the word. "It's kinda romantic."

"Really?"

"Like a cheesy, modern day Cinderella story," Mihael remarked.

"Oh," Mail was slightly downcast.

"But, if you're going for romance, I guess that's a good thing," Mihael added. "Good luck, Prince Charming."

I recently went to a sleep over with my sister and her girl friends, and since a bunch of girls and pillows equals watching chick-flicks and not sleeping, we ended up watching the Hilary Duff Cinderella Story movie. Five minutes into complaining with the Otaku-friend that this was the cheesiest movie ever made (despite how I remember loving it as a child) I realize how close the plot is to this fic. This discovery was followed by screaming, crying, and excessive fan art viewing (thanks to Otaku-friend) before I was able to face how incredibly cheesy this story is.

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