Chapter 13

Matthew held up the pair of pants against his waist and considered them. They were fairly pricey, and his parents didn't give him that much allowance.

"Get 'em, teddy bear. They'll make your ass look awesome," Gilbert offered. Alex grinned in amusement when Matthew began to blush darkly with color. Embarrassing as it was to go anywhere in public with Gilbert (he was a steady stream of cussing, lewd remarks, and whiny complaints), Alex and Gilbert actually got along quite well. Alex seemed to find Gilbert funny, and didn't care about the fact that Gilbert was filthy rich because Gilbert was the total opposite of preppy snob. This became apparent when he told them he didn't need to buy an outfit.

"I hit up the thrift stores and found a pimp suit. It still smells like hooker perfume," Gilbert boasted. Matthew winced and Alex cracked up at the expression on Matthew's face.

"You're loco," Alex complimented. Gilbert just grinned and fished out a rather revealing top intended for a girl.

"How 'bout this one?" he asked. Matthew sighed.

"You suck at shopping. First of all, that's a woman's top. Someone just put it back in the wrong place. Secondly, it's cheaply made. Hardly worth the investment. Look at the seams—they're already unraveling. If you're intending for me to wear that, the cut and color is all wrong. Yellow would clash with my eyes." Matthew squinted his eyes at the garment even more critically, "And it looks like it's a silk blend—for that price it should be all silk."

Both Alex and Gilbert stared at him, looking mildly concerned. Matthew rolled his eyes.

"I dated Francis Bonnefoy for a year. I know how to shop." Both his companions just snickered at him. Matthew was distracted away from their conversation by his phone beeping. He pulled it out and his eyes widened in shock.

Arthur Kirkland: Alfred broke up with me last night. Do you know what's going on with him? I think he's messing around with Michelle.

"What is it?" Gilbert asked nosily.

"Arthur and Alfred broke up last night. Arthur seems really confused by it and he thinks...he thinks Alfred is sleeping with Michelle," Matthew said.

"Uh-oh. The gay golden couple is done. The school might implode," Gilbert joked casually, clearly not concerned at all. Alex just shrugged and grinned at Gilbert's remark.

"Alfred is a dumb ass. It doesn't surprise me that he'd mess up a good thing with Arthur. Arthur's too good for him," Alex said dismissively.

Matthew, however, was much more disturbed by the news. He thought of all the harsh things he'd said to Alfred not even a week ago—how he'd told him he had to be a better friend. Now Alfred was breaking up with Arthur? All of Matthew's protective instincts were screaming at him to find Alfred. Even if they weren't as close as they used to be, the bond he had with Alfred ran deeply inside his heart. He could be mad at him, but he couldn't just forget about him.

Matthew Williams: I'll find him. Try not to worry, Arthur.

He texted Arthur back and then firmly put the jeans back on the rack.

"I'll have to shop some other time. Sorry to bail, guys, but I've got to go find Alfred."

"Why, socio? He treated you like a—"

"Alex, I know. I know Alfred isn't perfect, and I know you're a better friend, and I know he doesn't deserve it because he was a shitty friend when Francis dumped me...but I might be the only person Alfred has left that can reach him who genuinely cares. Michelle might have ruined my relationship, but I'm not going to let her ruin Arthur's. He doesn't deserve that, just like I didn't. Maybe I can make Alfred see sense. I have to try," Matthew asserted confidently.

Gilbert and Alex exchanged a look. Then Alex smiled, and Gilbert casually looped his arm around Matthew's shoulders.

"Okay, teddy bear. We hear ya'," Gilbert said soothingly.

"I can't believe I'm saying this...but we'll help you find him. Three sets of eyes are better than one. I'll check the cafeteria."

"Thanks, guys. This really means more to me than—"

"Mattie, stop. It's just what friends do," Alex replied, ruffling his hair with a casual grin before ambling out of the store. Gilbert flashed his quirky little half-smile and pressed a kiss against Matthew's lips quickly.

"I'll take my board and go around the school. If I spot him, I'll text, okay?"

"I'll check the gym. I have a feeling that's where he'll be," Mattie said. "I'll try texting him, too, but I doubt he'll reply."

By the time they'd reached the school, Alfred hadn't replied, and Ivan hadn't seen him either when Matthew called. He offered to join in on the search, though, but a screaming toddler in the background and the sound of Yao fussing in angry Chinese made Matthew think the Russian had enough on his plate at the moment.

"Don't worry, I'll find him. Gilbert and Alex are helping me look," Matthew said, before saying goodbye and hanging up his phone. Gilbert kissed him lightly once more and then jogged off to get his skateboard. Alex waved and headed towards the cafeteria.

Matthew nodded determinedly to himself and set off in the direction of the gym.

He entered the massive, sunny room with its hard rubber floor and it's crisp white walls. The burnt orange basketball goals gleamed with polish and the wooden bleachers reflected the sunlight. For now, the scoreboard was dark, but Matthew could almost hear the history of squeaking shoes and the booming noise of the buzzer filling the space. Feeling tiny, he crossed the large gym and headed towards the hallway that connected it to the dressing rooms and the smaller fitness rooms.

Alfred wasn't in the weight room like Matthew had suspected, and for a moment, he felt like maybe he didn't know his friend as well as he thought he did. However, when he walked one room down, he found Alfred running hard on a treadmill. He was struck by how lean his friend looked. When he'd returned from football camp over the summer, Alfred had been lean but packed with muscle. He'd had the perfect build to be the ultimate quarterback. Now, however, he had a sunken look about his normally chubby cheeks, and his calves and forearms seemed skinny.

Matthew watched him awhile, knowing sometimes it was better to be patient. He waited in the shadows, ghost-like, just observing. Alfred was running hard, and he wasn't stopping. Matthew's lavender eyes flickered to the clock—11:20. Alfred was fit, but surely even he wouldn't sprint so hard for more than ten minutes or so. The clock ticked aggressively fast, as if challenging Matthew's claim. Besides, he had no idea how long Alfred had already been running before he'd appeared.

Ten minutes. Fifteen minutes. A full twenty.

'This is crazy. It can't be good for him to do so much.' Matthew firmly opened the door and his presence wasn't even noticed. Alfred's eyes were zeroed in on the front of his machine, like a lion stalking a gazelle.

As Matthew came up on his side, he realized what his friend was watching—the calorie counter.

'Shit,' Matthew thought. It made sense. Alfred was about to be in a big commercial where he'd be practically nude. He was worried about losing weight. It was a natural enough worry, but not for someone like Alfred—he'd looked healthier at the end of summer. Clearly, he was having some body issues.

"Hey Alfred," Matthew greeted calmly. Startled, the blue-eyed boy lost his rhythm and would have gone hurtling off the treadmill but Matthew quickly pulled the magnetic key and the machine harmlessly slowed down. Alfred stumbled a bit, but he caught himself with the balance of an athlete.

He was panting too hard to speak, so for a long time he just stood bent over, breathing hard. Matthew's suspicions that Alfred was pushing himself too hard were confirmed. Helpfully, he fetched a towel and a bottle of water. Alfred took the towel and mopped off the buckets of sweat but declined the water.

Matthew's eyes narrowed suspiciously. 'He doesn't want the water weight,' he realized.

"H-hey, Mattie! How have you been? Did you come to get a work out in? I can spot you if you want," Alfred huffed. He had a big, fake smile on his face that would have fooled anyone else except Matthew and Arthur.

"I know you broke up with Arthur, Alfie," Matthew said calmly. Alfred's smile stayed firmly in place.

"We didn't break up. Arthur's just being dramatic," Alfred dismissed casually. He moved to a nearby bench and collapsed there, looking exhausted and half-starved.

"Fine, but I think we have a bigger issue now," Matthew said. He glanced at the few other runners in the gym. "Why don't we go for a walk?"

"Is this about our fight? I know I haven't made much time to hang out with you. I really am sorry, Mattie. I promise that I—"

"Alfred, just stop. Let's walk a bit, okay? You need a cool-down, anyway, don't you?" Matthew reminded. Finally beginning to look a little confused (and Alfred always looked utterly pathetic when he was confused) Alfred stood on trembling legs and simply nodded. The smile was gone, and that made Matthew relieved. They wouldn't get anywhere if Alfred was trying to prove he was fine.

They walked out of the fitness room, down the hall, and back outside. The fall air was crisp and cool, the leaves were a riot of browns and yellows and reds, and all in all, it was a beautiful day. Not a cloud in the sky. It was the perfect day for a walk, and for just a moment, Matthew's heart ached for Francis.

He knew, if he'd been Arthur instead of himself, that he would have started talking or lecturing. Arthur got impatient with Alfred a lot of the time, because simply put, Arthur was more mature than Alfred. What seemed obvious to Arthur was usually way over Alfred's head or emotional range. It was possible that Alfred was messing around with Michelle, but now that Matthew had thought about it, it didn't seem likely.

So he waited, and they walked. Alfred cracked in about six minutes.

"I've been trying to get ready for this commercial. At first I was excited about it, but then my mom started harping on me to practice the lines because it's my first one, ya know, and if I mess it up I probably won't book another job. My grades aren't that great—hell, I probably won't even graduate at this rate—so unless I want to work at McDonalds or something, this has to go well. It's a commercial and a magazine spread. If it was just the magazine, it wouldn't be that big of a deal because they could edit out acne spots and a little big of fat, but the commercial is gonna be brutal. They say the camera adds ten pounds, too, and it's totally true. I practiced videotaping myself yesterday and I look like a total fatass. Coaches are trying to bulk me up and my mom and Michelle are trying to help me slim down..." Alfred's long rant was punctuated by a loud, desperate sounding growl from his stomach.

Matthew's heart nearly broke when Alfred blushed, embarrassed, and rubbed anxiously at his sculpted six-pack.

"I'm so hungry," he admitted, in a very small voice.

Matthew stopped and turned, and not caring about the sweat, he stretched onto his toes and gave Alfred a huge, hard hug. It took a moment, but then it came all at once. Alfred began crying hard on his shoulder, clutching him tightly, all his stress and anxiety pouring out of him as if a floodgate had been released. He cried for a solid ten minutes before finally it began to taper down. Alfred's face was a mess of snot and tears, and Matthew had never seen him look so lost and confused.

"You need to eat, Alfred. You're starving yourself. How about I make you some of my world-famous maple syrup pancakes?" Matthew offered. Pathetically, Alfred tried to resist.

"I really can't, Mattie...I want to, but, pancakes are pure carbs and—"

"Alfred, I want you to let all of it go. Let's go back to last year, okay? Were you happier then?" Matthew asked. Alfred looked on the verge of tears again.

"Everything's so messed up this year. I don't even know what I did but somehow it's just...it's just...I hate looking like this! I thought this was what I wanted but I hate it! If I leave the school reporters are everywhere and my pictures are everywhere and I don't even recognize myself anymore! I'm popular, but you're mad at me, and I'm good at sports, but my grades are terrible, and every girl in the school thinks I'm hot, but all I care about is Arthur. But I don't want Arthur to touch me, or even see me, because it just makes me hate my body even more, and I'm too tired to even...I can't...I'm seventeen, for god's sake—I should be able to get it up for my boyfriend, but I..."

"Alfred, I'm going to help you through this, okay? I really think, though, that you need to tell Arthur that this is what's going on. He's really worried," Matthew said. Alfred firmly shook his head.

"That's embarrassing! I don't want to tell him that I can't...anymore. He'll think I'm not attracted to him. He'll say it's because I want to be with Michelle."

Matthew blinked a bit in surprise. Maybe he hadn't given Alfred enough credit where Arthur was concerned—the reaction he'd just described seemed entirely likely. Though he was more mature, Arthur was fiercely jealous by nature, and he was already convinced something was going on behind his back involving Michelle.

"Maybe you're right..." Matthew concluded, looking troubled. Alfred visibly sagged in relief.

"I know I need to talk to him—I know that—but I don't know what to say that won't just make everything worse. Mattie...what if you talked to him?" Alfred asked. "Tell him everything's fine and that I still totally love him, but that I'm just really busy and—and—"

"No, just stop right there. That's not going to work at all. We just need to slow down and think about this. Being impulsive is only going to lead to trouble. Alfred...would it bother you if I called Francis and talked to him about this?"

Alfred looked awkward but shrugged his shoulders helplessly. "If you think he might know what to do..."

"I know he'll know what to do. In the meantime, let's go get something to eat. We'll just get salads, okay?"

"...okay," Alfred replied grudgingly. His stomach gave another grumble. Matthew quickly texted Gilbert and Alex and let them know everything was fine but he needed some time with Alfred. He did the math in his head, adding six hours to the time, and judged it wasn't too late to call Francis. The other boy was still the number one on his speed dial.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

"Hello?" Francis answered. Matthew smiled just to hear the other boy's voice. Francis would know what to do. He slipped into French automatically, leaving Alfred in the dark, but it was just how he communicated with Francis. It felt good to speak French—natural.

"Hello Francis, how have you been?"

"Since you called earlier today? Fine," Francis laughed, and Matthew blushed a little. He supposed he and Francis had been talking on the phone quite a bit. He hadn't told him about Gilbert, but then again, Francis didn't talk about Michelle. It was as if they'd come to a mutual, unspoken agreement not to talk about their love lives.

"Oh, right. Well, I've got a bit of a problem. I'd hoped you could help me out."

"Problem? You are not in any danger, are you?" Francis immediately asked, sounding worried.

"No, nothing like that. I...I have a friend. And, um, this friend is having relationship problems."

"Are we actually talking about you?" Francis asked, sounding a little amused.

"No! I told you it was a friend!"

"A-huh. Alright, go on. What's wrong in the life of your...friend?" Francis asked, with a smile in his tone. Matthew rolled his eyes, but continued on with what he needed to say.

"Well, this friend has a girlfriend who thinks he's cheating. It's really another problem entirely, but she's so obsessed with the idea that he's cheating that he doesn't know how to talk to her about the real problem."

"That sounds tricky, but who could you possibly be cheating on the Cuban with? It's not Gilbert, is it?"

"His name's Alex, Francis, and stop trying to make this about my life. I told you it wasn't about me," Matthew sounded petulant, and Francis could practically see his pout. He missed that pout.

"Alright, alright, my dear, I'll believe you. It seems like a simple enough solution. Have your friend do something big—something to show his girlfriend just how much he loves her. When she's reassured of his feelings, then he can talk about the real problem."

"Does the romantic thing have to involve sex? Because he's so stressed out that he can't...eh...perform."

"Oh. Now that is a problem. I sincerely hope this isn't about you now," Francis joked. Matthew grinned and rolled his eyes again.

"My cock is working just fine, but thanks for asking," he replied back, a little saucily. Francis grunted in annoyance on the other end of the line.

"Now you're just teasing me. If I was there, I'd—"

"I know, I know. I do miss having you around. Are you ever coming back?"

"Not yet. My mother needs me here," Francis said quietly. Matthew smiled fondly. Francis cared so passionately about the people he loved. There was nothing that he wouldn't do for them. He'd once cared about Matthew that way, too...perhaps still did, even.

"I understand. Okay, I have to pass on your advice to Alfred—"

"Oh, so it's Alfred? Poor Arthur..."

"Crap. I didn't mean to say that!" Matthew said. Francis just laughed, and Matthew realized that was another thing he missed—seeing Francis laugh. He had a great laugh.

"I promise I won't tease him. I seriously promise. I know how sensitive Alfred is."

"Thanks, Francis. You're a lifesaver!" Matthew said with a big grin. On the other end of the phone call, Francis crossed to his dresser where he kept a small photo of himself and Matthew in a frame. He touched the glass gently, lovingly, and smiled.

"Take care, Matthew. I miss you."

"I miss you, too. Have a good night," Matthew wished. Francis agreed and hung up the phone.

"Did you even talk about my problem? Because that was an awful lot of giggling and blushing and—"

"Do you want my help or not?" Matthew interrupted, with a touch of the aggression he'd developed on the ice rink. Alfred blinked like a startled baby deer and nodded sheepishly. Matthew nodded, satisfied.

"Alright, we need to plan something big, to remind Arthur how much you love him. Then, when he's reassured that you love him and only him, you can talk about your other problem without him thinking you're cheating on him."

"That's brilliant!" Alfred exclaimed, his relief obvious. Mattie grinned.

"So what are you going to do for Arthur?" he asked. "You could do something at the Homecoming dance, maybe..."

"Naw, Arthur doesn't want to go. He's going to some concert that night instead. He wanted me to go with him that night, but I was nominated for Homecoming court and Ashley asked me to go with her since she's nominated for Princess and we pretty much know she and I are going to win. Plus, her parents are friends with my parents, and long story short...my mom's making me take her."

"Alfred...I'll hold Arthur off, but next weekend you shouldn't go to the dance," Matthew schemed.

"But—"

"I know the new Alfred wants to go, and that's what everyone expects you to do, but it's not what the old Alfred would have done. And if you think about it...you know I'm right."

Alfred nodded as they walked into the Subway near the school. Matthew was alarmed when he noticed a crowd of photographers had begun to gather outside, likely trailing them the second they'd left campus. Alfred glanced at them and offered a friendly smile (fake, Matthew noted).

"Don't mind them. They can't get closer than twenty feet."

"Alfred...I'm sorry," Matthew said sincerely, frowning a bit at the tabloid photographers. Now the two twelve year old girls inside the Subway were realizing what was going on and they began to squeal and point. Alfred just ordered his salad as if nothing strange was happening.

"I don't eat out much anymore," he said casually, as the woman making his salad gave him heaps of extras and kept smiling at him. The girls ignored their parents and came racing up to the line, clutching napkins, pens, and cellphones.

"Alfred, we love you so much! You're like, amazing. Are you really...you know...gay?" They broke into a chorus of giggles. Matthew was mildly horrified. Alfred just took it all in stride and turned around, signing their napkins on auto pilot and making big, silly smiley faces beside his name.

"Yeah, but that's okay. Love is love, right? And I really love Arthur," he said with genuine sweetness. The girls melted into squeals, and boldly launched forward to hug him. He laughed a bit awkwardly and patted their backs.

"I'm glad you like my photos and stuff, but I'm really not that big of a deal," Alfred said modestly.

"You're so hot, though! OMG, I can feel your six-pack!"

"Uh, yeah, thanks...you should probably get back to your parents now, though," Alfred said gently. The girls missed the hint. Turning awkwardly, Alfred finished ordering his salad even as the girls continued to chatter at him. Matthew cleared his throat pointedly, but the girls didn't even notice him.

"Alfred, will you be my friend on Facebook? My name's Jaime, and I'd be so popular if you friended me!"

"Me too!" her friend squealed. Alfred laughed awkwardly again.

"Heh...uh...I would, but I—"

"YES! He said yes, mom! Oh my gosh, Kaitlin is going to be so jealous! I love you forever, Alfred! I'm totally going to marry you some day, even if you are gay."

The flirtatious manager told Alfred him and his friend didn't have to pay, and that they should come back any time. Matthew had never felt so awkward or overexposed in his entire life.

"Let's go back to the school," he said under his breath. Alfred didn't hear him over the squealing girls who were now talking to him about ever rumor they'd ever heard about him ever. Alfred was enduring it all with a strained smile, but he seemed to be on Matthew's wavelength and they didn't stay.

"Sorry, girls, but we've got to go. It was nice talking to you," Alfred said.

"Stay! Please! We love you so much! Please? Please, please, please?" the shorter one begged. Alfred just shrugged his shoulders helplessly.

"Sorry, really I am, but we gotta go. Enjoy your lunch," and then he stepped quickly outside with Matthew in his shadow, and pulled on his sunglasses smoothly. The cameras began flashing instantly.

"This is crazy!" Matthew said in complete aggravation.

"This really isn't that bad. They didn't expect me to be here so there's only a few of them," Alfred said, all with that fake grin on his face. Noting how uncomfortable Matthew looked, Alfred said, "Once we get on school property that have to stop following us."

"THERE ARE RUMORS YOU'RE CHEATING ON ARTHUR—ARE THEY TRUE?" A reporter shouted. Alfred's fake smile dropped and he quickly shook his head. He began to walk quicker.

"ARE YOU TWO DATING NOW?" Another reporter shouted, and Matthew's eyes widened in alarm.

"I'm sorry, Matthew. I should have realized—"

"Let's just go!" And Matthew grabbed Alfred's hand and made a run for it. They sprinted hard, quickly leaving behind the reporters, until they were back on school grounds and hidden amongst the outer buildings and the big, black fence.

"Oh my god, that was terrible! Alfred, how on earth do you deal with that?" Matthew asked. Beside him, Alfred just shrugged.

"It's been like that, sorta, since my dad became President. It just got really bad over the summer. It was nice being in London and not really having to deal with it."

"Ugh! I wanted to...to...hit those girls with my footlong!" Matthew as being perfectly serious, but Alfred only stared at him for a second before he burst out laughing. Then Matthew's words sunk into his own ears and he flushed with embarrassment.

"So...twelve inches, huh? Impressive, Mattie."

"You...shut up. I meant my sandwich!" Matthew replied. But it felt better between them, and that alone looked like it took some of the stress off Alfred's already over-burdened shoulders.

Matthew finished explaining Alfred's situation and then let out a massive sigh. Gilbert's red-tinged eyes were slightly wide.

"Damn," Gilbert said.

"Yeah. So me and Alfred have to think of something romantic to do for Arthur and I have to convince Arthur to hold off for a week without completely hating Alfred..."

"Hmmm...you know I'm awesome at romance, right? I could help," Gilbert said. Matthew rolled his eyes, but gave his boyfriend a smile.

"A-huh," Matthew replied. Gilbert pouted. He grabbed Matthew's hand and kissed the heavy ring that Matthew still wore, even though it looked completely out of place on the other boy.

"I convinced you to go out with me, didn't I?" Gilbert asked challengingly. Matthew nodded.

"I guess you did. So what do you have in mind?" Matthew asked.

"Hmm...I'll have to talk to Roderich, but I just might be able to pull it off..."

"You know Roderich? The piano prodigy?"

"Yeah. You could say we...have a history. Anyway, let me talk to him and see what I can do," Gilbert promised with a wink. "But for now, can we please stop talking about your pussy friend? He's like, the opposite of awesome."

"Oh...okay. Um, what do you want to talk about?" Matthew asked a little uncertain. They were hanging out in Mattie's room, as Alex was in science tutorials and would be gone for at least another hour. Gilbert waggled his eyebrows.

"We're in your room...alone...what do you think we should do?" Gilbert asked. Matthew grinned. For a second, he'd been nervous that Gilbert would want to talk about his heavy metal bands or his skateboarding and that Matthew would have nothing to say and the other boy would realize that Matthew wasn't as cool as he was...but it occurred to him then that Gilbert wasn't that complex of a creature. As long as he got one thing, he was happy.

"Gilbert...I'm feeling really...hot," Matthew complained.

"That's not good. You should probably take your shirt off," Gilbert suggested. Matthew grinned and pulled his shirt over his head with teasing slowness. He'd worry about talking to Arthur later. Alone time in the dorm room was a precious commodity, and neither he nor Gilbert were about to waste it.

Arthur did what he always did when he was upset. He threw himself into his world of books and refused to think about anything else. He was in the library, the day after the fight, when a group of popular girls occupied the table across from him. Arthur vaguely knew who they were through Alfred. They were all cheerleaders, and they were all at the parties Alfred attended with his football chums with clockwork regularity.

'Where do the find the time to spend every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday night partying?' Arthur thought bitterly. Still, he held no particular grudge against them. They'd been nice enough to him on the rare occasions he'd gone with Alfred to a party, and Arthur couldn't exactly dislike them just because they were 'popular.' After all, he was dating one of the most popular boys in school now, though he would have never guessed he'd become that way judging by how they'd started a year ago.

That thought made Arthur blink in surprise, and the threat of tears prickled at his eyes.

He and Alfred had known each other for a full year now. Of course, their official anniversary was February 2nd, which had also been the day that Alfred had beaten the crap out of Celio and defended Arthur's honor, but they'd met in September and now they'd known each other a full year.

'We didn't even make it eight months,' Arthur complained in his head. So much for true love.

"I'm going to wear the Versace dress, I think," the tallest, blondest of the three girls said loudly. Arthur scowled.

'This is a library, you twits,' he growled mentally.

"What's Alfred wearing? Will it match?" another girl replied. Arthur's eyes narrowed. He knew Alfred was going to be paired with a girl at the dance because he was likely going to be voted Prince, and a girl would be voted Princess, and he assumed they'd have to share some awkward, cheesy dance, but he'd thought that was the extent of it.

If he was actually taking her to the dance and the game, this was the first Arthur was hearing about it. As if on cue, the girls noticed him behind his stack of books.

"Oh, it's Arthur," Alfred's "date" said sympathetically. Her expression of pity was purely fake and so annoying it made Arthur want to hit her...but he didn't, because he was a gentleman.

"Hello Ashley...and Ashley's friends," he added after a moment of mental floundering and the realization he had no idea who the other girls were. It felt awkward, but the other two girls didn't bat an eye. Apparently, they were accustomed to being defined entirely by the fact that they associated with Ashley Winters.

"Heard about you and Alfred breaking up. That really sucks. I hope it didn't have anything to do with the dance," Ashley said.

"Not at all," Arthur replied with a scowl. He could be polite, but he didn't have to look polite.

"Oh, good. I don't suppose you know what he's wearing to the Homecoming dance, do you? I mean, he's gay, so I'm sure he's not as hopeless as some of the other guys, but I'm wearing a—"

"I don't know what he's wearing. If he's your date, shouldn't you discuss it with him?" Arthur said with a bite to his voice.

"I get it. You must be bitter about getting dumped right before the dance...and he didn't even ask you to go and you're his boyfriend. Harsh," Ashley said. One of her friends tossed her hair.

"But Alfred is such a sweetheart. I mean, it totally wasn't intentional," she said, as if she knew Alfred very well. Arthur shifted his glare to her. Who the fuck was she, talking about Alfred like she knew him?

"Yeah. He's just so cute! I admit it. I'm his total fag hag," the other girl said with an obnoxious giggle. Arthur felt his must-kill meter rising. He had to leave, else he was going to start popping their boob implants with the first pair of scissors he could find.

"Right. I'm afraid I have to be going. Good luck with your studying," Arthur said in his best diplomatic voice. He then gathered up his study aides and left the library to the sounds of their obnoxious chatter.

He was walking down the hall, feeling utterly murderous, when he ran into Matthew.

"Arthur!" Matthew said. Normally, Arthur would have stopped, but he just wasn't in the mood. He needed to be alone.

"Arthur!" Matthew repeated, trying to catch his attention. Refusing to give up, Matthew raised his voice up higher than Arthur thought was even possible and shouted for the whole hall to hear.

"JUST GIVE HIM ONE WEEK, ARTHUR. JUST ONE!" Matthew shouted. Arthur almost paused, because the request was such a bizarre one, but then he furiously told himself that he didn't care.

'Oh, I'll give him a week. I'll give him all the time he wants away from me. And then when he's ready to come back, I'll give him more time. I refuse to be strung along by him! Asshole!' Arthur thought angrily.

But still, something that felt a little like hope lit up in his heart.

A/N: Thanks for all the lovely comments, guys! I'm glad you like the PruCan, though Mattie's nowhere near out of the woods yet. On a personal note, I really feel Arthur on this chapter. My girlfriend and I had a secret relationship in high school and she went to her homecoming dance with someone else. I was so jealous. I remember, though, trying very hard to act like it didn't bother me. That story was really pointless, except to say that as the author, even I feel a little bad for what I'm putting Arthur through.

Oh, and Ashley Winters is just another OC. I'd make her a country, but there's not a place on earth that fake and evil, lol.