Chapter Twetny

Gabby's POV

A week had gone by, and I still haven't spoken with Mathias.

It was a comfort to hope he was just so love struck for Lukas that he wasn't talking to anyone but his new boyfriend, though that reassurance only lasted so long: he greeted Alfred, Arthur, and the other Nordics just as he always had. When he looked at me, on the other hand, it was literally as if I was invisible. No change in expression, no look of acknowledgement… He seemed to look right through me.

I liked to tell myself that I was happy for him, that I didn't mind that he totally cut me off. Deep down, though, I knew that was far from the truth. It hurt like hell, being ignored by him. He'd thrown me overboard by cheating on me, and the promise of staying friends was the only life saver I had. I missed his sense of humor; his idiocy; his contagious goofy grin… Then again, I had a feeling I wouldn't genuinely smile around him anymore. After all, the fake smiles I fruitlessly aimed at him whenever we passed were starting to get old.

"You look down, mon ami." I didn't even look up when Francis spoke at lunch one day, because I figured he was just talking to whoever happened to be sitting next to me. Yeah, I was feeling a little out of it, but that was because it was a Thursday morning and I was fricking tired. Only when I felt Francis staring at me did I slowly turn to look at him. I jumped slightly.

"Oh, you were talking to me! Sorry, I thought…" I shook my head, flapping my hand and putting on a grin. "I'm fine, don't worry."

Francis shook his head, putting on a weird lopsided frown that gave him a look of determination. "You look like you need a break. Like you need to hang out with some girl friends or something…" I blinked. Back in middle school, I'd eagerly anticipate weekends mainly because I could hang out with some of my gal pals: the one method of escape and relaxation I had except for wasting hours away online. I never really had super cool friends, but we weren't outcasts, either, and the feeling of fitting in with a group really helped me hold onto sanity. Now, however, I did admittedly have around 10 female companions that I'd talk to in class and stuff, but we weren't super close. If I'd known them back in New Jersey, they'd be those friends that I like yet I'd never invite over my house and rarely texted them.

Now, don't get me wrong, I was more than happy to have the guy friends I did here at Hetalia Academy. Being accepted by some really awesome dudes did wonders for my self esteem. Still, I couldn't talk about the teenage girl necessities like bras and PMS with them, plus there was the huge risk of falling in love and destroying our friendship. Yeah, I'm bi, but I'd fallen for a female friend like, 3% of the time. The chances of me going head over heels for a male friend was a minimum of 80%. I'm a mess.

"Bitch, please." Francis narrowed his eyes slightly at the sound of Alfred's voice. I faced him to see he was talking with half a mouthful of food, pointing at us with a fry. No wonder Francis looked like he was in the presence of a dead skunk. "She don't need to hang out with other chicks; she needs to shoot somethin'!" I simply gaped at him, about to comment, when I noticed that he was moving his pointer fingers and thumbs as if operating an invisible video game controller. Okay, that made sense.

"Is there even a place to play video games here?" I questioned, tilting my head and raising an eyebrow.

Alfred let out one of his signature obnoxious laughs. I'd gotten so used to them that I didn't even flinch. "Uh huh, I've got an Xbox in mah dorm." Oh, that's right, he must have had one of those higher class dorms that came complete with extra features, including a television. They were way too expensive for my dad to afford, which makes me wonder why Caliegh hadn't purchased one… Guess she was just a cheapskate.

"So, what, you're invitin' me to play some vidjo games with ya?" Francis gave me a look that said "You did not just say 'vidjo'" while Alfred absolutely beamed. He nodded, with a casual shrug that didn't really go with his excited expression.

"Or just hang out in my dorm. Whichever."

I raised my eyebrows as I took a sip of water. "In your dorm? Won't I get in trouble for being there?"

"You didn't seem to have a problem goin' up to Thias's dorm," Alfred pointed out.

Shit. I forgot about how gossip spread like wildfire around this school. My expression fell drastically, and I swear I gave off a real negative aura. I didn't even realize I had crushed my water bottle. "Now why would you bring that up? How heartless of you," Francis practically hissed, smacking Alfred's arm with the back of his hand. I planned on kicking Alfred in the shin under the table, but decided my heartbroken expression was painful enough for my idiot friend.

"Sorry, man…. But seriously. Nobody follows that rule, you'll be fine! So whataya say. Chill with me later, after last period?"

I bit the inside of my cheek, thinking this over. Any homework I'd have to complete by tomorrow could easily be finished in study hall, so the only thing I would be losing by hanging out with Alfred was my internet time. Which really, I could do with less of.

"Sure, sounds like a plan," I agreed.

So now I stood in the doorway of Alfred's dorm, knocking on the door and being quite surprised to see Arthur be the one to open the door. "Gabby? What are you doing here?" he asked, clearly taken as aback as me.

"I can ask you the same thing."

Arthur raised an eyebrow, gradually slipping past me into the hall. "This is my dorm…"

I blinked, a streak of panic sizzling my heart. Was Alfred just as much of an asshole as the next guy, and had given me the wrong room number? Or maybe I'd memorized an incorrect number…. "Yo, 'sup Gabs?" The all-too-familiar American voice snapped me out of my worrisome thoughts.

Arthur's jaw fell agape. "She's the girl you're having over tonight?" He looked back and forth between the two of us as if watching a rapid-fire tennis match.

"Yup! Why?" Alfred smiled dumbly at the Englishman until gears seemed to turn in his head. "Oh yeah, you know her, right? You were fanboying over her after-"

"I was not fanboying," Arthur insisted heatedly, a light blush on his cheeks. "I was simply explaining that I'd made a new friend."

Aw, Arthur had been talking about me? For some reason, that made me suddenly giddy. "Don't you have some bibbity-bobbity-booing to do?" teased Alfred. Arthur's fake flushed even redder, only this time in irritation as opposed to embarrassment. Muttering something about taking dark magic lightly, he curtly nodded his head at me before rushing off down the stairs.

"Well gosh, who pissed in his tea." I personally regretted that comment the moment it left my lips- it seemed awkward and stupid, plus kind of mean- yet Alfred found it absolutely hilarious. He laughed so hard that tears came to his eyes, and I couldn't help but join him. Shaking his head and trying to tame his mirth, he motioned me into his room and closed the door behind him.

The two halves of the dorm were even more opposite than mine and Caliegh's. One was extremely well kempt, with a made British flag themed bed, a single dresser, an antique-looking side table with a laptop closed atop of it, a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, and a wall covered in a neat arrangement of post cards plus smallish posters of Harry Potter, Doctor Who, and one of One Direction.

The other half's bed was unmade to the point that you couldn't tell what was a blanket and what was a sheet, a dresser with a television on the surface and the top drawer open to provide a place for a couple gaming systems (with wires reaching up to the TV), another larger dresser with pant legs, socks, and t-shirt hems sticking out of the drawers, a crate overflowing with papers that seemed to be sheet music, an electric guitar plugged into an amp, and walls covered in posters of baseball stars, Nicki Minaj, and girls in bikinis posing in front of hot rods and pickups.

It was pretty obvious to tell whose half was whose.

"Wow, you play acoustic, too?" I commented after getting a full look-over of the room. An acoustic guitar, slightly bigger than my own, was propped against his closet door. It was crafted of some beautiful type of wood; mahogany, maybe?

"Chu bet! I started with that, 'cause once you master acoustic, learnin' electric is a piece of cake," Alfred explained. I nodded, drifting toward the instrument and ending up sitting on the very edge of Alfred's messy bed.

"That's exactly what my guitar instructor told me… I just never got around to learning electric, 'cause I was too broke to get a new guitar."

Alfred cocked an eyebrow, plopping down beside me. "I thought you said you taught yourself?"

Mm, so I hadn't explained this whole thing to him. "I did mostly. I got lessons for a few months back in fifth grade, but it got too expensive so I stopped… I kept the book, though, so I started reteaching myself two years later."

"Cool, cool," Alfred said, nodding twice. He leaned across my lap and grabbed the guitar firmly by the neck, nearly smacking me with it a couple times as he situated it on his on lap. Up close, I could tell the guitar was pretty aged, and some strings were obviously newer than others, yet it was kept in excellent condition.

Deciding to take a bit of a risk, I ran my fingers down the strings, and practically shivered with delight at the harmonized sound. "Dude, my guitar hasn't been this perfectly tuned for months. I lost my metronome… Think you could tune mine for me sometime?"

Alfred flashed me a toothy grin; how could anyone have such a white smile? "Totally. 'Ey, I lost my pack of picks… You got one on ya?"

"What type of guitarist doesn't?" Feeling completely shameless, I slid my hand under the blouse of my uniform and produced a purple guitar pick from the strap of my bra. Alfred choked, immediately laughing afterwards.

"You did not just do that," he snickered. I fingered the plaid material of my skirt with a shrug and a half grin.

"These skirts don't have pockets. I gotta keep my phone and shit somewhere."

Another earsplitting laugh from Alfred. "Pretty damn clever, if you ask me." He plucked the pick out of my hand, positioned his fingers on the strings, and started playing a song. It was pretty mellow and professional-sounding; I never would have expected a spaz like Alfred to create such a perfect noise. I tilted my head slightly, closing my eyes and (failingly) attempting to identify the notes he was playing. I was, however, struck with a sense of familiarity.

"Broken by Seether," I said impulsively. Alfred faltered his playing, looking down at me with a bemused grin. He continued to play the next line without even looking down at his instrument. Just to prove I knew exactly what I was talking about, I sung way too dramatically: "I wanted you to know, I love the way you laugh."

"Hey, not bad!" Alfred praised sarcastically. I grinned and bowed.

"Thanks, I'm here all week."

Alfred shook his head fondly and slid his guitar to the floor. In one swift movement, he attempted to slide the guitar pick back where I'd taken it out of, but with a shriek I fell backwards against the bed and smacked his hand away. "So, you a gamer?" Alfred questioned after he calmed down his laughter.

I pushed myself upright, beginning to kick my feet slightly. "Kinda… I mean, I have like, 10 Pokémon games for my DS- not the DSi, the lame old DS- and I play Skyward Sword on the Wii, plus Left 4 Dead and Assassin's Creed on the Xbox. So… not really."

From the look Alfred gave me, you'd think I'd just told him I'm a pregnant virgin. "Dude, there are chicks that only play Just Dance and call themselves gamers." I guess I made the right choice by excluding that from my list. "You're totally a gamer babe!" My cheeks flushed at the word "babe," but I passed it off as part of Alfred's lingo. "But hey, I got Left 4 Dead… You in?"

God, I hadn't played that game since I transferred to this school… "Hell yeah."

As Alfred turned on the Xbox and set up the game, I asked him if he could teach me the chords for Broken, or any other song for that matter. He said chords really aren't that hard to learn, and before I could get all offended he added that it's easy when you have someone to teach you. Since I had taught myself, it was only natural that I couldn't even identify an A5 from a D5.

I won't bore you non-gamer, anti-zombie-apocalypse readers with the details of how the rest of the evening unfolded. I'll just share that we ended up playing rock-paper-scissors over who got to play as the hot redneck, Ellis (I won); Alfred compared Boomers- the crazily obese zombies- to this one Cuban guy that's friends with Mattie; I unlocked 2 more achievements on Alfred's Xbox, but he got even with me by waiting up every time I fell off a roof, and taking over my controller when I got lost for the fourth time.

Now, the moral of this story is that for now, I'm gonna push down any potential romantic thoughts or feelings I harbor toward Alfred, because he is my best god damn friend ever.