Note: I suggest you read Chapter 2 again before reading this one, just so you'll understand the connection of events and dialogues in this chapter. But I guess if you've taken my story to heart and you know every detail then I guess there's no need for that.

Chapter 4

Complicated*

The bell had rung fifteen minutes ago, signaling the start of the first class of the day. Emma's algebra teacher had begun the boring discussion on polynomials from where he had left off the other day when Henry, his blond hair damp and uncombed, with bangs covering his eyes, had only just arrived and was trying surreptitiously to enter the classroom without getting caught; unfortunately their middle-aged teacher seemed to have woken on the wrong side of the bed that day and decided to vent his early morning anger on Henry and his tardiness.

"Schuester," the Math teacher barked, stopping Henry just when he was about to take a seat next to Emma, who had saved him a seat.

Henry bit his lip and slouched, feeling everyone's eyes pierce him; it was still happening—everyone was giving him the attention that made him wish he was invisible instead. "I'm sorry I'm late."

"Sorry… you think that's enough?" The algebra teacher crossed his arms and leaned against his desk. The class fell silent and Emma held her breath, dreading what was about to come. "Just because you are the son of the richest, most successful man in all of Lima, Ohio, you think you can barge into my class and simply say sorry for interrupting it?"

"N-no," Henry was pale, unable to look his teacher in the eye.

"Then how about detention, after class—"

"I've got swim practice, S-Sir—"

"What was that?" The teacher scoffed, turning his back to write equations on the board.

"Nothing." Henry dropped his bag and sat hopelessly in his seat, not bothering to defend himself, knowing his teacher would find a way to fire it back to him.

"Henry, I'm sorry," Emma squeezed his arm lightly. "I should've said something," she whispered, while the teacher's back was still turned.

"It's fine. I wouldn't want to cause anyone any more trouble."

"I'm not just anyone," Emma shot back proudly. "I'm your best friend—"

"I know that, Ems, geez—"

"I'm just really worried about you. You practically avoided me all day yesterday—"

"Perhaps you'd like to spend more time chatting with Schuester in detention, Miss Pillsbury?" Their math teacher was livid, his angry voice echoing in the room.

No, please don't, Henry thought.

"3 o'clock—both of you. Now where were we, before these two showoffs decided to interrupt my lesson...?"

"Emma, you haven't stopped asking me how I was since this morning. Look what that got us—detention." Henry and Emma were seated by their twosome in a table in the cafeteria, while most tables were filled up with groups of cheerleaders, jocks, and nerds huddled together in their private worlds. The two weren't exactly fond of wanting to belong to a certain group of kids who bonded over shared interests; and they weren't the type the other kids would want in their tables either, so they were content in each other's company.

"Well, I'd stop asking if you actually answered the question," Emma replied wittily.

"I've already said—"

"You say you're fine, but it doesn't look like it… I mean, you haven't even told me anything about how dinner with your family went last night, or how it was like in the house with your new brother," Emma paused, taking a sip of apple juice. "I worry when you're not telling me anything."

Henry set his fork down and stopped eating. "For the record, he's not my 'new' brother," he snorted, as though believing the idea of Will being his brother was a joke. "I wouldn't even call him my brother—"

"Henry!" Emma almost stood up from her seat, appalled by her best friend's indifference.

"If it weren't for him, people wouldn't be looking at me funny and whispering crappy bullshit about Dad! Am I right?"

"It's not entirely his fault! Why are you being so mean?" Emma leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with frustration.

"You of all people should understand me, Emma," Henry said more calmly. "You're supposed to be on my side, remember?"

"I am!" she said, running her hands through her hair in exasperation. "I just thought you'd be more understanding. Did you even think about how he must feel for a change, instead of it being all about you all the time?"

"Where the hell is this coming from?" Henry pushed his plate away from him.

Emma had a quick flashback from yesterday when she had first encountered Will; the curly-haired boy had been so angry, it scared her—at the same time she had also realized how wrong it was to have pried into his personal life without any regard as to how he might feel about it. She closed her eyes and sighed, trying to calm herself down. "Since when have you become so selfish, Henry?"

"Since when have you started attacking me like this?"

"I'm not attacking you! I'm just saying you shouldn't be so insensitive, especially not to Will!" She had already stood up, her eyebrows furrowing together, her fists balling up without her consent.

"Whose side are you really on, his or mine?" Henry was just as enraged, his voice rising. Some students in the nearby tables had turned to watch the blond and the redhead's unexpected fighting match. "You're saying I'm insensitive? Well, guess what—you're being insensitive to how I'm feeling too." He stood up and flung his bag over his shoulder. "Oh, and later at detention don't expect me to talk to you because I guess I'm really just selfish and insensitive—like you said." He shook his head and walked out of the cafeteria, leaving Emma to stand by the table alone, left embarrassed while a few students snickered.

Unknown to both Emma and Henry, Will had witnessed their little show from a few tables away. He had kept silent and kept his head down at times just in case either one noticed him; the other students were watching too so they couldn't have noticed him sitting alone in one corner. Honestly, he didn't know how to feel about what he'd just heard; Emma had stood up for him against her own best friend—his half-brother Henry who still refused to acknowledge his existence. Will couldn't tell, however, if the girl was only doing it to compensate for having wronged him yesterday or if she did genuinely care about his feelings. Not that it mattered to him (or did it?), but still, it was too soon to tell what Emma's real motives were.

He was playing with the grapes on his plate, chasing it with his fork as he relished in his own thoughts, when he sensed someone take a seat next to him on the table.

"How long have you been here?" Emma's unmistakable voice was now just a whisper; she seemed to be panting a little, probably from having yelled too much at Henry.

Will stabbed one of his grapes and shoved it into his mouth, making sure the fruit made crunching noises as he chewed it. "I dunno, maybe I've been here since the bell rang for lunch," he said sardonically.

Emma swallowed loudly, her face beginning to blush again just as it had yesterday, when she and Will first met. "W-was there any chance you… you saw—H-Henry and I—"

"I could see your table from over here. What do you think?" Will raised his eyebrow inquiringly.

"Then you must've heard our argument—"

"What's your point?" Will had leaned forward and glared at Emma; she had shifted her body away from him, fearing he might suddenly pounce on her the way a lion would to a prey it has spotted.

"Again, I'm sorry." She blurted out. Emma clasped her fingers together and placed them on the table. "I'm sorry for what happened yesterday… and I'm sorry for what happened today. On Henry's behalf, I apologize," her voice began to crack, but she made sure she no tears would start falling.

Will looked away, staring at the remaining grapes on his plate instead. He felt Emma's sincerity in her words and knew she was close to tears, so he stopped intimidating her. "Anything else?" he said nonchalantly, pretending not to be touched by the redhead's kindness.

Emma straightened up and bit her lip. "When you said yesterday, that um, everybody just pretends to... care about you…." It was her turn to lean forward and as she did, she whispered in a softer voice, "I… I'm not. I meant—I'm not pretending. I honestly do care." She swallowed again, feeling relieved that she was able to say everything she needed to say without Will scaring her off.

"Well, that's it… I should go. I'll leave you to finish your lunch." She smiled weakly at him but Will continued to idly roll the grapes around on his plate. Only as soon as Emma's back was turned did Will look up at her again, watching her retreating figure slowly disappear among the crowd of students.

*The title is from Avril Lavigne's angsty hit song, Complicated.