Chapter Thirty-Two

Gabby's POV

"Happy anniversary, baby!" Nothing starts a day off better than waking to those words.

At first, it had been terrifying. Just like every morning ever, I blinked awake, squinted in the dim sunlight, rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, sat up groggily, and groped my side table in search of my glasses so I could see more than two centimeters in front of my face. The dorm was gradually seeping into focus, and the substance of the weird-ass dream I had had that night was slowly slipping out of the fingers of my memory. Reality was circling in…. and letting me acknowledge that someone was sitting on my bedside, a widening grin on their face.

That was when Alfred F. Jones wished me a happy anniversary. It was also when I screamed/gasped/shrieked and jumped back abruptly, banging my head against the wall and immediately crying out in pain.

Al just laughed. "Scare ya, babe?" He lightly ruffled my hair until my heartbeat slowed to a normal pace and my hands leisurely released their grip on the back of my head. Al then pulled me forehead and placed a gentle kiss on the bump forming where I had banged against the wall. Was I dreaming…?

Finally, it dawned on me what the hell was going on. I had almost forgotten the date… December twenty-sixth: a month after Alfred F. Jones had asked me out (and the day after Christmas… But I'll talk about that a little later). Two things excited me about this: one, Alfred and I had been together for exactly a month now; two, people that visited home for the holidays could start returning on the twenty-sixth, and Alfred was one of them.

The squeal I let out was almost inhuman. "Alfred!" I flung my arms around him, burying my face in his chest and feeling him pull me closer as his nose nuzzled against the top of my head. Without even opening our eyes, I looked up, him down, and our lips were together. Just the way I like it.

"You wanna get dressed so we can go down and start our awesome day?" Al offered after a delicious few minutes of constant lip-locking. As always, I pulled away with a warm tugging feeling in my chest, my eyes momentarily glued to Alfred's handsome face. God, could that boy make out!

"Nah, I was planning on spending the day in my PJs," I answered with a dash of upbeat sarcasm, breaking myself out of that post-kiss trance.

"I dunno, these are pretty sexy…" Al stroked the sleeve of my completely unattractive fuzzy, pink leopard print pajamas, then teasingly undid the second button from the top (since the top one had come undone overnight) and ran his fingers across the newly revealed skin. I squealed again, resulting in some motion from my sister's sleeping form on the other side of the room, and hastened to gently shove Alfred away from me. "And y'know, technically, you could. We don't have class until Thursday, and not everyone is back from break yet…"

For a moment, I seriously considered just crawling out of bed and heading downstairs just as I was. "Get lost and lemme get dressed," I decided.

He stood with a salute and an over-exaggerated bow. "Whatever you wish, m'lady." Then he slunk out of the room, leaving me to retrieve a clean uniform and shimmy into it. Side note: my paranoia caused me to feel as if Al's gorgeous blue eyes were still on me all the while, staring through the door or, more reasonably, peeping through the keyhole. It was an unnerving sensation, but… Not too horrible.

Feeling confident on this fine winter morning, I didn't bother to apply any makeup and hardly spent time on my hair. Caliegh was getting up as I joined Al in the hall, but I didn't spare her a second glance. Alfred and I walked hand-in-hand on the way to the cafeteria and talked the whole time. "So how was your Christmas?" I asked cheerily, looking up at my boyfriend. He pecked my lips when he glanced down at me.

"Pretty good, 'cept I missed my girl." He brought my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles, then resumed holding and swinging it in his. "But it was nice, goin' home with Mattie, seein' my folks…" His usual grin softened for a moment, then his expression went right back to goofy. "How was your Christmas, baby?"

I made an "mm" sort of sound. "Lame… I missed you. Plus I spent most of my time wallowing in guilt 'cause I couldn't afford to get anyone presents…"

Alfred shrugged, grinning as usual. He gave my hand a little squeeze. "It's the thought that counts, ain't it?"

A teensy smile twitched back onto my face. "…yeah. Oh, but I did get a Facebook message from my brother, wishing me a merry Christmas. My old man sent a Christmas card… Said he misses his little girl."

"Did he send one to your sis?"

I stumbled a bit in my walking. "Nah. And I didn't get one from the bitch that birthed me."

The rest of the walk to the cafeteria was silent.

Seeing as we were some of the first to arrive, plus the school's current population was much lesser, we got dibs on whatever breakfast we wanted, which happened to be a waffle and bacon platter that we decided to share. It was deliciously just off the stove, so while waiting for it to cool, I decided to take out my phone and check my online grades. After all, the teachers were supposed to have updated with scores from the most recent tests: the midterms taken right before break.

Normally, I hate when people look over my shoulder while I'm using my phone, but in this case, I mentally encouraged Alfred to do so. Maybe seeing my grades would inspire him to, y'know, not flunk. I smiled triumphantly to myself, content that I still had my usual array of A's. Guess those nights of cancelling dates with Al to study for the midterms were worth it. ….And then I was gaping, my heart stopped, as I viewed my grade in Roderich Edelstein's class: an 81.

A low whistle sounded from Alfred. "Damn, girl… Low 80's so do not suit you." I was suddenly too wiped to even aim a glare at him. Silently, I clicked on that horrid 81 to see the assignments that made up the grade. As much as Mr. Edelstein and I hated each other's guts, I admit I rather like most of his class. The written exams were usually pretty easy, as were the performance ones (as long as I practiced hard enough). Yeah, it was hard to pay attention to that prick… But all in all, I didn't totally hate the class itself and always managed at least a 92.

…So how the hell did this happen?!

The midterms, that's how. See, everyone was super excited for this, because we got to be creative for once. It was a performance test… with our own compositions. We had to compose a page of music, perform it on our chosen instrument, and hand in the sheet music, all for a grade. A grade of 70/100, in my case. Keep in mind this was a major grade. Shaking, I read the teacher comments for the assessment. "Lacked creativity and enthusiasm."

"You son of a bitch! I spent weeks on that piece!" I hissed aloud.

"Eesh, looks like he went pretty hard on you…"

I spun around to look at him (though not really seeing anything but red), poison in my glare and words. "You think?!" I raked my fingers through my bangs, digging them into my scalp and groaning against my palms. Suddenly, I was standing up. I don't recall when this change of motion happened. "Bet you my perfect sister got a fucking 100! He worships her, I swear to God…"

Now Alfred was also standing, his hand resting gently on my elbow. "Whoa, babe, calm down! You're upset, I getcha, but c'mon, we can handle this…"

"How?!"

Alfred flinched at my volume. "…Uh…" A sheepish version of his normal cocky grin flashed on his face. "We can get revenge on that prissy prick. We could, like, wreck his classroom or something."

When his words actually computed in my head, I froze. Get revenge… Images of ripping up piano keys, shredding sheet music, snipping violin strings, dismantling music stands, and spray painting framed pictures of composers streamed through my infuriated mind. Then suddenly, with a jolt of sanity, I caught myself and realized that vandalizing school property would hardly make things better. Yes, it'd relieve a lot of anger… But that's what Al's violent video games were for. Inhaling a deep breath, I gradually sat back down and then exhaled. Alfred followed suit. "…that might be a little extreme… I think he might purposely fail me if he finds out I destroyed his room."

"Who said he'd find out?" Alfred reasoned with a wink.

I gave him a tired look, but I think I smiled a little. "We're not gonna wreck his classroom, Alfred. …But we will mess with him, somehow."

Alfred pouted, obviously disappointed that he wouldn't get to smash any keyboards. "Like how?"

"I dunno, I'll think of something… For now, open up." I cut and pierced a piece of syrupy waffle from our plate, and tapped the fork against Alfred's mouth. Grinning, he opened and bit down, while at the same time feeding me a slice of bacon. My adrenaline level was already beginning to drop blissfully.

It came to me while in Al's dorm, listening to him play guitar and getting a little lip action every so often. "Jesus, how do you even find what music you're looking for?" I asked incredulously as Alfred searched through his folder of sheet music in search of an original song he'd composed the previous year. Said folder was a mess, covered in duct tape due to surpassing its maximum capacity, and crinkly papers sticking out every which way.

"Oh, and your sheet music is kept perfectly neatly?" he mused with a raised eyebrow, flinching as he accidentally ripped the corner off a piece of paper.

"Yes, actually, I try to. It's the one pet peeve I share with m sister." I paused, then shuddered. "Ew, it's a pet peeve I share with Mr. Edelstein, too. Ratchet." It was then that some gears in my head began to turn. I abruptly sat up straight. "Dude, I got it. I know how to get back at Mr. Edelstein!"

By this point, Alfred had abandoned his fruitless search through his music folder. Obvious interest snaked across his grinning face. "Tell me more."

But I didn't tell him more; I was standing and heading out into the hall. "I'll explain on the way, we gotta hurry. He always takes coffee breaks at exactly 11:00, and it's 10:55 now…"

"Uh, how do you know this?" Al questioned, following me out the door nonetheless.

"My sister told me, as if I'd actually care about that douche bag's schedule. Don't ask how she knows, she probably stalks his every move."

We passed Mr. Edelstein a few minutes later, which meant we were successful in making it to his room after the coast was clear. He didn't even glance at us; good riddance. Looking up and down all neighboring hallways first, Alfred and I crept into the music room, closing the door silently behind us.

"So, lemme get this straight. We're just gonna put all his sheet music in different boxes?" Al confirmed.

My heart was fluttering with a combination of excitement and nervousness. I'd never done something so risky, so bad… Not to a teacher, at least. "Not all of it, he's got way too many for that. Like, thousands. But as many as we can."

Alfred nodded twice, already striding over to the massive shelves of sheet music boxes. "Cool, cool. Ooh, and what if we switched the covers on some of them?"

I grinned at him over my shoulder, since I had headed to the shelves on the opposite side of the room. "You are an evil genius."

The next 15 minutes were awesome. Funny, how I could recall staying after class with a few of my buddies to help our beloved choir director organize and sort away music, while now my boyfriend and I were doing the exact opposite to a music teacher whom I would gladly love to see drenched in rotted egg yolk. I, ironically, developed an organized system of disorganization: take a few covers from one box, replace them in several other boxes, and slide those in other boxes still. Alfred seemed to be doing it more randomly, folding and mixing up the sheets in the process. It was great, and felt oh so good.

….until Mr. Edelstein returned early from his coffee break.

When I heard the click of the door handle, I froze in place, while Alfred continued merrily screwing with the sheet music. The door swung open and we both snapped our gazes toward it, classic "Oh shit" expressions on our faces. Mr. Edelstein nearly dropped his coffee mug at the sight of us. "….and just what are you two doing in here."

Of course, neither of us had a response. I gulped, already shaking as Mr. Edelstein's face grew redder and redder. "Mr. Jones, Ms. Bibus…. Detention," he growled.

Having been quite the goody-two-shoes when it came to schoolwork, I had never before heard such words spoken to me. Suddenly, that 70 seemed really appealing.