Author's Note: Okay, thanks to all of my reviewers, once again! I'm glad to hear you would read a sequel so I've made up my mind and can continue with my story. I hope I have compensated my time-lapse with this hopefully-long-enough chapter. (This is undoubtedly the longest chapter yet. By far.)

After about two weeks of the same - that is, my not finding out anything about what Matt was, even through carefully casual observation and him not making any more progress in speaking to me - I decided that enough was enough. I needed to talk to him. I hated not talking to him.

So I caught up with him in gym, and fell into step right behind him as he walked across the overlarge room.

He immediately stopped walking and spun around to face me, catching me off guard. I, of course, stopped as well and met his eye. At first I thought he looked annoyed, but his annoyance was either quickly diminished or covered up by some other, more powerful and tender emotion.

"Paige," he started hesitantly. He didn't continue. I could read extreme reluctance on his face, causing my curiosity level and feeling of intrigue to increase. Maybe I would just let him talk first instead of starting off in my ingeniously-thought-out and furious telling-off; I'd listen to what he had to say first. Okay, well, I actually didn't have a plan as to what I was going to say to him other than just winging it, but that only made me want to let him go first more.

"Yeah?" I prompted, letting the slightest bit of aggresion and anger enter my tone while keeping my face cool and indifferent.

"Well, I was just wondering."

He sighed, hesitating again, "Would you... you know. Ugh," He groaned, "Where do you like to go to eat?"

I was completely taken aback and immediately squashed down suppressed thoughts and hopes threatening to surface...

"Uh..." I dared not hope what I my now-racing heart was hoping he meant - "Well, my favorite is definitely Dairy Freeze. It's got this cool fifties theme and-"

"Okay," he interrupted me, "Will you show me it? Tonight?"

I was shocked, and couldn't help it from showing on my face for a split second. Three weeks ago, he'd have teased me for how surprised I appeared, but now his look of intense concentration didn't so much as flicker humorously.

"Um. Sure," I answered breathlessly. But I needed to clarify one fact; "But like - a date?" I asked tentatively.

"No," he cut in quickly, panic gripping his features and body language, "Not a date. Just two - er - friends - having dinner."

Disappointment mixed with hope that he had decided to be my friend again, elation that he was asking me to go somewhere with him outside of school, and the old anger at myself for the feelings he aroused in me; for feeling so ready to let him take control of the situation - flared up in me; creating internal chaos and turmoil and making it very difficult for me to say or do anything other than to just stand there stupidly, with a blank expression on my face.

"Well?" he asked after a moment.

"Oh," I answered, emerging from my internal disarray, "Oh. Yeah, okay."

"Alright. Meet me there - what time?"

I ignored my feelings. I ignored my thoughts. They all just needed to shut up.

"Um, I don't know."

"Okay. Then how about seven o'clock?"

"Alright." I waited, but he said no more; merely nodded, turned away, and started running laps.

I stood there still, allowing some of my emotions to leak out of my tightly controlled heart and set me into a state of utter bedlam once again.

"Hey, could you do me a favor?" I asked the Dairy Freeze employee behind the counter.

"Hmm?"

"Well, I'm waiting for someone - and when they come in, could you direct them to my table?"

"Sure. Why not? What they look like?" she asked, looking bored.

I smiled, "Well, okay, let me rephrase my question. When the hottest guy you've ever seen comes through those doors, send him to my table."

"The hottest guy I've ever seen?" she asked dubiously, smirking at me, "Well. So specific. I guess I'll know exactly who you mean then."

I laughed, and not able to entirely supress a smirk, replied, "Yes. You will. Really, you will. But just to clarify, he has bronze curly hair, he's tall, he's muscular, and he's tan. And you really won't even need to know that stuff to know who I'm talking about." My smirk became more pronounced.

She raised an eyebrow.

"Whatever."

"Thanks!" I said, overly cheerful, and I made my way over to and sat down in the most secluded empty booth I could find, and waited.

I was about fifteen minutes early - which just showed the lack of social life life I led since meeting Matt.

After about a minute, worries, concerns, and doubts wormed there way into my brain. I was slightly worried that he would stand me up; after all, he hadn't talked to me anymore in gym today and then he hadn't even showed up for English at all.

I doubted this was some cruel joke - that situation didn't fit Matthew. I also doubted that he would stand me up out of spite. But maybe he would if it would get me to leave him alone. Maybe that was his plan.

I sighed and reminded myself once again of just how pathetic I was.

Three weeks ago, I would have been ecstatic about this meeting - and I would have had no doubts about anything in my mind.

But now I was obsessed with knowing why exactly Matt had invited me here - as "two friends having dinner".

Had he been hesitant and so ready to deny the date-state of this meeting because he didn't want to rush me? Because he was nervous and liked me and didn't want to blow his chance?

Not likely; I felt ridiculous for even considering that. He was so out-of-my-league. Which was saying something, as I usually considered all the "league" crap to be just that - crap.

So maybe it was the standing-up-thing again. He had it planned, he wanted me to leave him alone. But then when I asked if it was a date, he'd said no because he'd felt bad and didn't want to make it harder for me.

Or maybe he wanted to discuss what type of being he was. In which case, I'd be euphoric - maybe. I didn't have a clue, really, what he was. My research certainly hadn't helped me any. He could be something evil, something dangerous. My heart sped up at the thought.

Maybe I didn't want to know what he was.

I rolled my eyes at myself. Of course I wanted to know what he was, regardless of the potential evilness of it. I had to know. But then another thought occurred to me - hit me, really, though now I felt stupid for not considering this first.

Why would he want to tell me, anyway? Either because he finally decided to trust me and felt that he owed me, he didn't want me making wrong assumptions, or what?

Of course, if he really wanted to tell me that he was a raging killer, I doubted he would choose to do so in a semi-crowded local place of dining. So I probably didn't have to worry. I would just have to wait, and see what the meaning behind this supper meeting was. And I would be sure to observe him and his behaviors more carefully than ever to see if I could extract hints from them.

I sighed as I glanced at my phone. It was still twelve minutes until seven. This was, undoubtedly, the longest fifteen minutes I'd ever endured, and I had sat through Mr. Facette's civics classes, so that was saying something.

I folded my arms on the table and put my head in them to wait - I felt wierd sitting there alone, and the stares of the other customers were annoying me. It couldn't be that unusual for someone to walk into a restaurant alone, could it? Maybe I was just paranoid.

I was only in my cara-abajo position long when I heard a throat clear across the table from me. I bolted upright, my head spinning from the sudden movement and light.

Calmly sitting in the chair across from me, an amused smirk on his face, sat Matthew Black, looking as breathtakingly hot as ever.

The curious looks of our fellow diners had vanished, instead, we were being openly gawked at - or, at least, Matt was.

My own eyes widened; I hadn't heard him come in, hadn't heard him pull out the chair or sit down or anything.

Was there no end to the crazy-weird abilities whatever-he-wases had?

I shook my head, smiling slightly. I had no doubt that he would never cease to amaze me.

He rose an eyebrow at my smile but didn't comment.

"So, how long have you been here, waiting?" His tone's light, teasing tone was echoed in his twinkling dark eyes.

"Oh, you know, a minute or two," I said airily.

He grinned, "Ah. I see. So, after a mere minute of waiting for me, you decided that it you'd exerted too much energy in the task, and so tried to sleep?"

"I wasn't sleeping," I said in a mock-indignant tone, "Otherwise... yep, that's pretty much how it went."

I caught sight of my phone, still sitting face up inches from my hands and pressed a random button so as to see the time. It was just now ten to seven! How embarassing! He'd caught me.

"Well, I'm sorry to have expected so much out of you. Good thing I got here so early, I guess," he said gravely, but the corners of his mouth twitched.

"Why are you here so early?"

"I might ask you the same question," he replied, and his teasing manner slipped an almost imperceptible notch closer towards that of what it had been earlier that morning.

"But I asked you first," I reminded him.

"Alright," he conceded, his lips twitching slightly again, "I thought I'd get here ten minutes early because I wanted to be the first one here."

"And why did you want to be the first one here?"

He shrugged, "Just did. Now, I answered, so why were you here even earlier than I?"

I grinned sheepishly, "Nothing better to do."

"Nothing?"

"Nope."

"Ah."

"You know, your answer was hardly satisfactory."

"Nor was yours, though."

"True enough," but there was no way I was going to tell him the real reason I'd been so early;

'Oh, you know... because I am pathetically, hopelessly, desperately in love with you, I think. I'm also desperately curious as to what exactly you are and, well, back to the infatuation thing - I just love being around you and didn't want to miss a second of it by getting here after you.'

Yeah. That would have gone over great.

"So, why exactly did you want to meet me here tonight?"

"Later. Let's eat first," he suggested, "I'm paying."

"Well, in that case," I started, my grin growing mischieviously, "Let's eat!"

He laughed.

We got up and walked over to the counter where the same girl I'd talked to before still stood, eyes bulging so much, I wouldn't have been surprised if they'd popped right out of her skull. Other than her temperarily odd eye disfiguration, I noted bitterly that she really was very pretty, her long hair a deep chestnut color that was streaked with red, her features petite in a pretty way...

"Um. Hi," she breathed, and shot me a quick, jealous look that said you weren't kidding before looking back at Matt, as if every moment she spent not looking at Matthew was a wasted one.

"I see you, uh, found your girlfriend alright," she continued.

My heart skipped a beat at this assumption.

"Mmmm," was all Matt said.

'Mmmm'? What did 'Mmmm' mean?

He rose his eyebrows expectantly at the girl.

"Oh. Your orders. Right," she shook her head, as if to clear it, "What did you want?"

Matt shifted his expectant gaze to me.

"Um. I'll just have fries, a burger, and a chocolate shake," I told her, "Thanks."

"Okay," she said, reluctantly tearing her eyes away from Matt's face long enough to punch that into her cash register.

"And I," Matt told her when she'd looked back up, "will have two burgers - no toppings. Make that three, actually."

"That all?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Nothing to drink?"

He hesitated, "Water, then."

"Alright," she said, as if there wasn't anything unusual about his order, "That'll be $15.71."

Matt paid her and she handed him a blue number plaque.

"I'll bring you your food - or, someone will," she informed him.

We walked back to our table and I glanced back before turning a specific corner and I noticed her still gazing dreamily after us.

"So...," I started, "That was an - interesting order."

"Was it?" he asked, watching me closely.

"Mmmhmm. Since you offered to pay, I planned on cleaning you out, you know, show you that offering to pay for me is never a good idea," I shook my head teasingly and grinned, "But, alas, you out-ordered me."

"Well, I don't mind - as long as you eat it all," he said, once again in mock-sincerity.

I laughed, "No worries; I'm far from anorexic."

"Good," he said, the corners of his mouth turning up again.

"Returning to the subject of your odd order," I began, only to be interrupted by the pretty order-girl again, bringing us our food.

"There you go," she said eagerly, putting the plastic tray of food down in front of us in such an elegant manner, a silver platter would have been more appropriate.

"Thanks," Matt said, smiling politely before turning back to me, "You were saying?"

The girl looked a little snubbed and slowly walked away.

"Well, it's a pretty weird order. You a big meat eater I take it?"

"Yes, I do enjoy meat." His expression had become slightly wary; his eyes guarded.

"Hmm. Is that something to do with, you know..." I looked around and made sure nobody was eavesdropping on us before dropping my voice to almost a whisper, "...something to do with what exactly you are?"

His expression became stony and his deep brown eyes flashed angrily. He said nothing. I waited, following his example of silence.

Finally, his expression softened again; it rather looked as if he'd pushed whatever thoughts that were bothering him away.

"Look, I really don't want to talk about that," he said, his voice soft and slightly hoarse. But before I could open my mouth to object, he continued, "Later. I promised myself I would enjoy the begining of our - super. I was going to order what I wanted, not bothering with pretenses, and I would be myself - or as much as possible. So let's enjoy ourselves and pretend the world is great and normal, yes?" By the end of his little speal, his tone was falsley bright and cheery.

"I -"

"Please. Please, Paige."

I sighed. There he was, pleading again. How could I turn it down?

"Fine," I answered grudgingly. Perhaps Matt could see the questions burning in my eyes, because he echoed my sigh and looked more weary than I'd have thought possible for him to look.

We ate in silence for awhile. I watched him eat, fascinated. It was slightly disgusting; he was apparently trying to restrain himself and eat slowly and with small bites, but it was obvious that he was trying really hard not to shove the entire burger into his mouth and once and scarf it down.

Dairy Freeze was nearly empty now; only us, the Dairy Freeze employee who had disappeared into the back room on the other side of the restaurant, and the rest of he coworkers, all of whom were out of earshot.

"So..." I started again. Matt looked up at me, his face once again wary, a shadow of fear in his expression.

"You said you wanted to enjoy 'the beginning of our - supper'. Does that mean that you don't intend to enjoy the rest of it? Because the beginning is over. I hope you enjoyed it."

"I did enjoy the very beginning," he said softly.

"But...?"

He sighed again, and for some reason I thought I saw pain, extreme pain, reflected in his face.

"But, I suppose, all good things must come to an end, especially this one, for as it's good for me, it's not for you."

"What?" I asked, totally confused and taken aback.

"I - Paige - we can't be friends."

"What do mean?" I asked, my voice softer and slightly wobbly, my heart suddenly on the verge between falling a long distance before shattering and rising in euphoria - what exactly did he mean? What did he mean? My pulse quickened, repeating with every beat this crucial question, creating panic and turmoil inside me once again.

"I mean, Paige, we can't be friends. Surely you can guess why," his was becoming aggresive, sarcastic, and - angry?

"I don't. Why?" I noticed my breath becoming ragged, my voice becoming rougher and weaker as his gained strength. He spoke through clenched teeth.

"You don't know everything about me, but you know that I am not human. Isn't that enough to make you not want to be my friend?"

"I don't really care about that."

"You should care," he informed me.

"Well I don't."

"Well, in any case, we can't be friends." He told me. He definitely was angry.

"Well, I think your explanation sucks."

"Too bad."

I felt my temper rise, overcoming my weak lapse of character.

"Too bad? Too bad? What are you?"

"I can't tell you that."

We glared at each other.

"Why not, exactly?"

"It's - dangerous."

"Dangerous how?"

"I - can't - tell - you. But you're better off not knowing."

"How so?"

"If I told you, you'd be in danger. Please, except that as sufficient enough explanation."

"I'm not going to."

"I can't tell you anything! And I wouldn't, anyway! Ugh! You are so - infuriatingly dense sometimes!"

"Are you calling me stupid?"

"Just now? Yeah, guess so."

"I'll let that one slide if you just tell me what you are!"

"That is not going to happen!"

"Fuck you. Why the hell not?"

"Shut up. Just shut the fuck up. You don't understand."

"No. That much is obvious. I don't understand. And, when I offer to give you a chance to let me understand, you turn me down."

"It's for your own good."

I let out an exasperate bark of sarcastic laughter.

"Ha! Yeah, whatever."

He stood up angrily and grabbed my shoulders, his nostrils flaring and his eyes burning, looking like he wanted to kill someone. Instead of scaring me, this only made me angrier.

"Listen! We - cannot - be - friends!"

"We were friends. What is suddenly the problem?"

"We weren't friends," he scoffed, "we were acquaintences."

"Oh yeah, that's totally what we were," I said in a cruelly sarcastic tone.

"So, you only talk to your friends in school? In the classes you have with them? You don't hang out outside the classrooms at all with your friends?" His tone was mocking, and it hurt.

"You shut the fuck up," I shot back at him, unable to come up with a decent comeback. He seemed to read my mind; he smirked and spoke his next words slowly, deliberately.

"I was never your friend. I was being nice. I didn't want to be your friend and I still don't. I thought I'd tell you the truth."

And the truth of these words rang inside my brain, hitting it like a gong.

I felt the anger drain away, probably along with the color in my face. All feeling, all emotions melted away. I felt my heart harden, become stony and freezing cold, colder than his undoubtedly was. I felt a mask of equal indifference and coldness slip over my face. I didn't care that I'd put myself out there for him. I refused to care. I refused to feel any pain over the fact that Matthew really was the only person I'd ever - Fine. If he wanted it that way, that was the way it would be. My only regret was that it was something that would make him happy.

I refused to feel anything, to think anything at all about Matthew Black. He was a thing of the past, and would never be anywhere in my mind or heart again.

He seemed to notice the change in my attitude; his anger, too, seemed to retreat, to be replaced by one of taken aback caution and nerves.

"Well," I scoffed, "Are you trying to insult me by saying that you were being nice to me? That you thought I cared about you? Because, Matthew Black, I can garuntee you that I never felt more than pity for you - the new boy who, despite decent looks, had no friends - other than, of course, the Queen of Bitches for your twin. I talked to you because I was curious, I'll admit that much. But it became evident early on that your personality is as dry as desert and just as boring. Honestly, I couldn't care less about you. Go to hell, really, I won't care."

I knew that he wouldn't be able to sense anywhere in my expression, in my tone, in anything, the slightest hint of a lie. He would be forced to believe what I said, and it would probably only make him happy. And it was true, I realized. I felt nothing for him. Nothing. I refused to let myself. And so I didn't. My heart was empty.

He was free of me at last. Whatever. I didn't care.

I refused to let myself think about thinking about anything and before I saw his reaction, I spun around and left the restaurant in a hurry, not looking back once.

Author's Note: Please be brutally honest in your reviews. That is all. Thank you.