Emile and Ewen noticed on this day that there were many sounds in the quiet classroom. The chirping of the birds outside, the ticking of the clock, and the gentle scribble scrabble of pencils on paper during a class test.

And, of course, the whistle of steam coming out of Damian's red ears.

Emile and Ewan glanced at their furious friend, then each other, then back at him again, seemingly having some sort of telepathic conversation in their minds.

Should we distract him?

Should we try to talk to him about it?

Should we talk to him about something else?

In the end, they simultaneously decided that there was almost nothing they could do, so they tried to concentrate on what the teacher was saying as best as they could, and let their friend boil himself in a frenzy.

—

Damian was furious.

Absolutely fucking furious.

How dare Bill ask Anya out on a date. How dare Anya actually accept it and agree to go with him - and even pay for the snacks! How unsightly, everyone knows that a gentleman should pay for the full date. And how dare he do this in front of the whole school at lunchtime to humiliate Damian on purpose and how dare Damian stand by and not do a single fucking thing about it because he was too much of a coward to ever ask her out on a date himself!

He was long past pretending to pay attention to the teacher and take notes, and instead started to furiously scribble:

Ways to get Anya back to my side where she's SUPPOSED to be:

Tell her how you feel and hope she feels the same.

Damian instantly realised this not only was ridiculous, but completely unachievable. He was nowhere near ready to confess and - as much as he hated to admit it - Damian knew he was a coward. He wasn't physically capable of telling Anya how he felt because he froze up every damn time he tried to say something. He crossed it out.

Tell Becky to tell Anya not to go

He tapped his pencil over this, but ultimately crossed it out. It was a cowardly thing to do to act through someone else, and besides he became sick at the idea of speaking to Becky of all people about Anya. He could just picture the smug grin of satisfaction on her face, since she had been teasing him about his little crush for years.

Tell Bill to snap out of it and cancel the date

Damian gnawed on his pencil as he looked at what he had just written. Thinking completely logically about it (totally logical, no feelings here), there was no reason that Bill would actually cancel with Anya. There was no telling how long he had been waiting for an opportunity to ask Anya out, which made Damian think that perhaps Bill was more serious than he gave him credit for.

The idea of bribing Bill crossed Damian's mind, but then he remembered that Bill, too, was from money, so he likely wouldn't be bought. And he was the only people in their year group that seemed to react indifferent whenever he brought up his Desmond heritage. No - Bill couldnt be intimidated into backing down, Damian was sure about it.

He crossed it out.

Tell Anya to stand Bill up

Damian crossed this one out straight away too, as he realised he couldn't 'tell' Anya to do anything. He didn't own her and she wasn't his girlfriend, so what right did he have really to expect her to do anything he said?

Then he realised what he had written, and shame flooded him. Was he seriously trying to sabotage Anya's dating life? Who did he think he was? As he viciously erased the evidence of his traitorous feelings, Damian gritted his teeth.

I'm Damian fucking Desmond, that's who.

He brushed away the eraser rubbings, and took a deep breath in an attempt to stabilise himself. And while his galloping heartbeat started to slow, Damian came up with a plan.

—

Anya quietly wondered why Damian was muttering his own name to himself. Did Sy-on boy forget his own name? She vaguely remembered that time a few years ago when he wrote "Sy-on Boy Desmond" on one of his test papers, and he only realised his mistake once he handed it in.

(No-one else knew of this blunder, except for Anya who had read his mind as he wrote it, and Mr Henderson, who - when he marked the exam - burst into tears from laughing so hard and nearly ruptured his spleen.)

She thought about peering into his mind for a little bit, but his head had been such a mess recently that it had only made her headaches worse. Plus, she really had to focus on this class. Her grades had been slipping again recently, she was so close to actually maintaining a class average for once, but with the mission and everything else (i.e. just trying to keep her parents alive with them knowing, keep Damian alive without him knowing, keep Becky alive without her knowing, and so on and so forth), Anya could barely keep up with what was happening in class.

She thought ahead to the date on Friday. She had never been on a date before - she knew from being in high school that going on a date was something that people typically worried about, but she couldn't remember what she was supposed to be worried about. If she would smile the right amount? If she would be able to get the right information from him - or even what information she was supposed to be looking for? Or if Bill was going to pay for her peanuts? (She desperately hoped there would be peanuts at the cinema).

"So," Becky whispered. "What are you going to wear on Friday?"

Ah, thought Anya to herself. That's what people worry about on dates!

"Um, I haven't really thought about it," replied Anya honestly. She thought about what Bill had always seen her in. "Maybe my school uniform?"

Becky groaned and facepalmed. How can this girl be loveable and so dumb?

Becky took a deep breath to steady herself, partly to keep from crying. "Girl, you are so coming to my house tonight. We are gonna talk outfits!"

Anya, very wisely, kept herself from groaning out loud. She also wondered if she was taking "Mission: Ignore Damian" too far. She was actually completing the main part of the mission rather well, it wasn't until Bill threw a curveball into her plans that the mission took on a bit more than she bargained for.

She didn't even like Bill that way, which was a shame because there was nothing wrong with him from where she sat. Sure, he was so bulky that his Imperial Scholar's cape was far too short, and it looked a bit like he had a handkerchief tucked into his collar, and sure his glasses were very reflective which meant it was hard to know where he was looking, but he was hardworking and always said what he meant and meant what he said.

…Very unlike a certain someone that she knew, who fiercely guarded his true thoughts and never said what was truly in his heart at all. Anya quietly wondered if that would ever change. She had heard his thoughts screaming at her from the back row for nearly twelve years, and it took her until only a couple of years ago to realise that he actually liked her, and was actually in denial about it this whole time, which made it even more confusing for her to get an accurate read on him.

It was so strange that out of everyone in the school, Damian was the only one that was so hard for her to read right. He had secret thoughts, often about living up to his father's expectations, and thinking that Anya was cute (which did not make her blush, she was just excited about making progress in Plan B, that's all!). And he was so thoughtful in his own way (she still remembered when he held her hand during that thunderstorm), but Damian was just so good at throwing insults at the same time, that it made her head spin.

Did he like her? Did he hate her? Was he disgusted by her? Was he ashamed of liking her? Did she embarrass him? Was he proud of her? Did he want to protect her? Did her smile give him butterflies? Did he want to run away from her?

Answer: Yes.

But thinking about Damian like this made her heart beat a little faster, and that was uncomfortable and weird, so she tried to take a deep breath and put it out of her mind. It wouldn't be good for Plan B, after all.

Before she knew it, the bell had rung for the next class, and Anya had been so lost in thought that the bell had startled her, causing her to drop her pens. Anya bent down to pick them up as everyone else made their way to the exit, but as she reached out for her pens, she brushed hands with someone.

Startled, Anya glanced up to stare suddenly into a pair of golden eyes.

Anya flushed a little as she saw Damian's face redden, and she blurted out "Sy-on boy!" in surprise. An instant later, she berated herself for not ignoring him, and failing the mission.

Damian snatched his hand back. "I-I wasn't trying to - you're the one making a mess! Dumbass!"

But then a resounding: Why is she so cute? Did we just TOUCH HANDS? Her skin is so soft, I kinda want to hold her hand…

Anya shook her head against the incoming thoughts, trying to shake them off. It was bad enough that Damian was so rude to her and called her names, but it was really starting to hurt that he hid his sweet side from her. Would it really kill him if he held hands with her?

But of course, she didn't want to hold hands with him, she just needed to get close to him for the mission…

Anya felt the heat rise on her neck, and she aborted whatever train of thought she had just started. She could not afford to mess up the mission. Papa was counting on her!

"So," coughed Damian, and his ears tinged pink. He reached out to help Anya up from the floor, and without thinking, Anya let him help her up so that they stood face to face. "Does this mean you're not ignoring me anymore?"

Anya softened at the nervousness in his voice. She had only been ignoring him for two days. Did it really affect him this much?

She rolled an answer around her mind before choosing to say it out loud. "Depends. Are you going to be nice to me?"

"Huh?" Now it was Damian's turn to be startled.

Anya sighed. "Sy-on boy, you're always so mean to me, and I'm getting tired of it, you know? We're almost finished high school. Can we just be friends already?"

"Idiot!" He barked on instinct. "Why would I be friends with a commoner like you?" Damian clearly regretted his words immediately, but it was too late.

Anya had been on the receiving end of his insults for the last twelve years. This insult didn't sting at all, she didn't just drop her guard and her eyes didn't sting even a bit and she definitely didn't feel embarrassed or want to just run away…

Anya hastily wiped her eyes with her sleeve, before any more tears threatened to fall.

"Anya, I didn't… I didn't mean…" he reached out as if to snatch the words back, but before he could make contact, Anya had turned on her heel and ran out of the door.

Damian let his hand fall to his side. Nice going, you idiot, he scolded himself. He was pretty sure that he had just pushed her away for good.