So it's late. Don't look at me like that! Erm......nothing much in the way of authors notes...just make sure you e-mail me and tell me what you think. Even flames would be amusing. *grins* katdragon_@hotmail.com <><><*><><><*><><><*><><><*><><><*><><><*><><> Chapter 2: Huh? <><><*><><><*><><><*><><><*><><><*><><><*><><><*><><> September 25 A month of that had gone by. Constant bickering, fighting, teasing. Charlotte and Daniel acting as mediators in-between. Angela couldn't stand him. His playing, his knowledge of campus, his fan club, being mistaken for one of his fan club, his grades, his knowledge of chemistry and physics. The chemistry and physics thing being her two weakest subjects. Although it wasn't like she was dumb, on the contrary she was thriving in the change of environment. Her grades would usually average 90% and above, similar to his own now she thought of it. She mentally shrugged, if her let down was the sciences than his was the creative academics. He thought Monet was a writer and had the poetry of a rock. Charlotte though started to notice something completely different. They canceled each other out. On the playing field where he had strength she had stamina, in art where she could paint he could assess and evaluate; in science where she could create he could hypothesize and add the concoctions together. The canceled each other out. A peculiar notion stuck her. The two fit together perfectly. The library. A common meeting place for the famous foursome. Well that's what Charlotte caught one of Matt's very own fan club member's calling them. Not that she minded though. "You're joking, right?" Angela was staring across the table at Matt with and eyebrow raised. She tapped the girl beside her. "Charlotte listen to this. Say it again Matt." He sighed. "The course of the element mercury never did run smooth. Some Chemistry guy was trying to explain the difference between mercury and other metals." Angela and Charlotte glanced at each other, and launched into a fit of giggles. "What?" "It's a Shakespearean quote." Charlotte said through her giggles. "Oh, yeah? Then why does it have reference to the metal mercury?" "It doesn't, you got it wrong." Angela replied. "Then what is it?" Angela stood up in her seat. "Ehem." Charlotte went off into another fit of giggles. "The course of true love never did run smooth! Said by Lysander in a midsummer night's dream. Would you like me to give you the line numbers?" Matt gave her a flat look. Daniel grinned. "Dude even I knew that." Angela retook her seat; obviously avoiding the evil looks from Matthew. A silly idea crept into Charlotte's head. She slowly ripped a corner of blank paper out of her exercise book, stopping suddenly now and then to glance conspicuously around herself, to check whether any one noticed her. Angela raised an eyebrow, shook her head and returned to her essay. In slow motion she reached for a pencil and wrote down a simple message. Let's leave the lovebirds alone. Daniel grabbed it and unscrunched it loudly. Charlotte cringed. He raised his eyebrows, grinned crookedly, and nodded, then scrunched up the note and put it roughly in his pocket. Charlotte looked at him helplessly. How do we leave without it being too obvious? Daniel must have picked up the telepathic message, or just not got the look she was giving him, because he shrugged expressively. Charlotte waved her hand around helplessly, gaining another strange look from Angela, and then paused, her eyes lighting like headlights. "My gosh," Charlotte leapt up in her seat. "I have gotta fly. I'm meeting Rebecca (AN: evil grin) for math homework." "What?" Matt's eyes grew wide. "You said you'd help me with English lit." Charlotte faltered slightly. "...er....I'm sorry but I really have to go." She gave him a quick smile and grabbed her books. "Daniel?" Daniel looked around, obviously for inspiration. "Umm....My girlfriend" He pointed expressively to himself, "is going to KILL me if I'm late. Sorry dude." He fumbled with the books he had and shoving them under his arm made a beeline for the library exit. "Er....Daniel you don't have a....."Matt sighed. He slouched in his seat, tired. In a short space of time he had reevaluated his situation and his eyes became hard, determined. He turned slowly in his seat. Across from him Angela was putting the finishing touches on an essay. "Angela I-." "Wait a sec." She held up a hand. Her pink tongue pressed into the corner of her lips. He started to twiddle his fingers. "Done." She grinned and threw her pen down. "Now, what do you need." "Help." She raised an eyebrow. "Are you trying to make believe I didn't already know that again." Smiling sweetly she filed the essay. "Ha...ha. That was so funny, watch me laugh." Matt deadpanned. Angela stuck out her tongue. "No, seriously Angela we have an essay to hand in tomorrow." "I hadn't noticed," She stopped dead in the middle of closing her file, "meaning you haven't started yet?" "Well, lets not look at it that way. I just, well, didn't really know where to start." She shook her head. "No, I think your problem lies in the WHEN." "Where." She looked him square in the face. "Sorry to deflate your ENORMOUS ego, but you can really be a jock some times Matt." Matt put his elbows on the table. "A) A nuclear bomb couldn't deflate my ENORMOUS ego, and B) I am an official jock. I think the actual term is enoramous jockernatus." "Right, ok" She stood up, "that's wonderful. If you want to be a dwank, I don't care!" She gathered up her books. "I'll be in my locked room if you need me." She pushed her chair in and walked a few paces before swinging on her heel. "Oh, and good luck in our essay." She smiled sweetly and disappeared behind a shelf of books. Matt blinked. <><*><><><*><><><*><><><*><><><*><><><*><><> The hot water beat against her face and closed eyelids as she reached to turn the tap off. Opening the glass shower door Angela stepped out and wrapped her powder blue fluffy towel around herself and fastened it at the front, stepping from foot to foot on the cold tiles. Wringing water from her hair she went to the cubical door and unlocked it, slipping the matching fluffy blue slippers she had left on the other side of the door onto her cold feet. She hummed as she walked out and took a cursory glance at herself in the large bathroom mirrors on her way. The hall lights were off and many of the doors she walked past didn't shed any light underneath. She frowned slightly to herself it couldn't be that late, she only spent an hour or two reading. She continued down the hall pausing to read the time on the old grandfather clock. 12:03. She cringed. Reaching her door she stepped forward to open the brass doorknob and stubbed her toe sharply on a carpet nail through the soft fabric of her slippers. She cursed and crouched down to look at her toe. As she took off her slipper she noticed a slight golden glow on the hall runner. Puzzled she looked up to see a line of light pouring from the underneath of Matt's door, slightly lighting the hallway. Through the wall she could hear the dull beat of his radio. Her eyebrows creased into a frown as she suppressed the rising of guilt. She stood quickly, blood rushing to her head and pain rising from her toe, and grabbed the cold, brass doorknob. The door swung into her dark room. She hit the light switch, the light flickering on instantly. A gust of autumn air raced through her open window stirring her curtains and blowing the door closed gently. She rubbed her eyes and wandered across the room flopping onto the bed and swung her legs up. Reaching out she snapped on her radio quietly, searching for Matt's station. Happy that it was the same station or at least the same song for the moment she lay back onto her pillow and sighed dejectedly. She lay her forearm against her eyes, trying to escape the anbaric light that emanated from the light fitting in her ceiling. It was rude of her, she knew. She also knew that it should feel a lot better getting back at people she disliked. Should this be any different? No. Then why did she feel so bad? Because, she thought, because maybe I don't hate him as much as I think I do. Stop. Everything stopped. She sat up violently. Breathing heavily she rubbed her eyebrow repetitively. The song on her radio changed clashing with sounds coming from across the hall. Suddenly she grabbed her pillow and sent it sailing across the room. It hit a picture frame as it went, the picture fell to the floor, glass shattering onto the bare carpet. A cry came from her throat and she ran to the fallen picture. Reaching for the frame she pulled it out of the debris and blew off small bits of glass. Her mother smiled back at her between the shards of polished glass. Frowning she placed it on her desk and proceeded to pick up the glass pieces. Picking up the larger pieces of glass she stood up from her crouched position and crossed over to the tin bin near her door. She placed most of the pieces in carefully, wary of the jagged edges, except for one that slipped through her fingers as she paced a large piece in the bin with the rest. With a slight intake of breath she hurriedly placed the remaining pieces in the bin, careful to let the blood drip in the bin instead of the carpet. Bloodstains are terrible to get out. She 'tsk'ed slightly with her tongue as she cast her eyes about the room, looking for anything that would stop the bleeding. Her eyes came to rest on her wardrobe and she crossed the room again. Firstly she pulled out a nightdress, after she stemmed the bleeding she would have to change, she adjusted the towel unconsciously, then she pulled out an old satin scarf. By pulling the small scarf with her teeth and holding it taught with her good hand Angela was able to wrap her finger nicely. She sighed content at the work. Slipping the cream nightdress over her head she started humming to the radio. Grabbing her Thai silk gown she belted it at the waist and stepped out in to the hall, closing her door behind herself. She walked across, still humming, and reached for the cold brass doorknob of Matt's door. She paused, thinking her way through what she was trying to do. She shook of the thoughts and smiled determinedly at the varnished dark wood door. Testing it to see if it was locked she turned the knob once then pushed the door inwards into Matts room. <><><*><><><*><><><*><><><*><><><*><><><*><><> He really wasn't getting anywhere. Matt looked down at the three pages of deep indigo pen scribbles and words that, to him, made no sense what so ever. He let out a frustrated sigh and, placing his elbows on his desk, put his head in his hands. Was it an hour ago this started making some sense? What happened? Through the deep throbbing sound emanating from the speakers of his radio he heard his door open gently. That old woman was probably coming in to "talk" to him about the responsibilities of doing your work early so you don't keep other people up blah, blah, blah, blah... "I'll turn my lights out soon. I just have to finish this essay." He lifted his head up, rubbing his temples with the tips of his fingers as he stared at the wall. "I don't mind it." She said it quietly, as if she wasn't sure of what she was doing. Matt's eyes widened and his view of the wall grew considerably as one tends to have a limited field of vision when you squint. He swung in his seat carefully, fully intending to not disturb the apparition in his doorway. She stood there, leaning against his doorframe, wearing the sweetest half smile that he had ever seen gracing her face. She was wrapped in silken tigers, looking like an ethereal island divinity against the deep tones of the shadows behind her in the hall. She shrugged lightly. "I thought I could help." No reaction. "I...felt bad." "I'm sorry I made you feel bad." She swallowed. Slowly walking into the room, she only took a few steps before she paused, uncertain. "Can I?" He smiled gently. "Help? Of course. You may also come into my dorm." She went to a wooden chair and brought it up to the desk. "May I?" She picked up the pieces of paper. Her face had no reaction, she just simply read. Matt absently tapped his desk for a few minuets. When she was reading near the bottom of the last page he impatiently burst out talking. "I know its really not fantastic, and it needs a lot of work, its just that its, well, it's-" "Brilliant." He was left speechless. His mouth hanging open, still trying to form the word he had left hanging. She shifted uncomfortably. He closed his mouth and opened it; then, thinking better of what he was going to say, reclosed it. There was along pause. "You're kidding, right?" She smiled and cleared her throat. "No." She shook her head, "The argument is very secure. Clear and well thought out. The structure needs a little work, but not too much. I also think you should type it up on the computer." She wrinkled her nose at the ink smudges and scribbles spread across the pages. "Over all, though, I think it's very good. I knew you had a talent for arguing." His head tilted side ways and his eyebrows frowned slightly. "Thankyou." She blushed. His eyes laughed. "You know, that's the first time I've seen you blush-" She smiled at him. "In about six hours." "Oh!" She scowled and hit him on the arm. He laughed. "Hey! I was just kidding!" She scowled at him again. "You know what they say about teasing the one you love." The statement brought her up short. She stared up at him, her eyes wide. Her coughed nervously. "Sorry. I didn't mean to say that." She looked down at her hands clasped in her lap. "That's okay." He looked away. When he brought his eyes back to her she was staring at her hands. On one finger was a small handkerchief type thing stained slightly red. "Your hurt." He stated taking her hand and gently spreading out her fingers. She looked up confused. "Oh. I smashed a picture of my mother and a piece of glass cut me when I was clearing the mess." "You smashed a photo?" "Yes." She laughed nervously. He glanced up from where he was carefully unbandaging her finger. "I'm sorry about your mothers photo." "Well, its not like she died." He laughed and pulled away the piece of material. "Thank goodness." She smiled in response. The cut ran diagonally across the midsection of her right index finger. "You should get this seen to." She shrugged. "The scarf is sterile enough, and the cut isn't very large or deep." He frowned. "Still." He moved the finger gently from side to side. She winced and drew in a quick breath of air. He looked up at her face; she frowned down at her hand. He suddenly remembered something his mother had insisted he took. "Wait a moment." He swung around in his chair and pulled out a draw at his desk. Taking out a small bottle of antiseptic he closed the draw and reached across his desk for a tissue. "This may sting." She wrinkled her nose and he opened the bottle and tipped a little onto the white tissue. He glanced up as he reached for her hand and smiled at her expression. "I think it's necessary." She sighed and nodded. He took her finger and dabbed the tissue across the cut. She screwed her face up and her breath started to come a little rapid but he went over it twice, re- applying the antiseptic to ensure the process was successful. When he had finished he took the piece of fabric and ripped it into a long strip. He then wrapped her finger. She took her hand back from his grasped and looked at the work. "Thankyou. How do you-" He interrupted her. "My brother is in his fourth year of a med. Course. Whenever him and I are at home at the same time, which is not often lately, he lectures me constantly." She laughed lightly. "I see. Thankyou." He smiled graciously at her. She looked down nervously. "Um....we still have some work to do." She turned back to the essay quickly. He shook his head. "It's late. Point out to me the changes you think should happen and I'll type it up on my computer and finish it," he paused, "the only problem is I don't have a printer." "That's fine. You can print it on mine. I only have a laptop but I find being able to print things is a definite plus." He grinned. "Hah, hah." She giggled and reached for a red pen. "Now when structuring the introduction you-" <><><*><><><*><><><*><><><*><><><><><><*><><> She had left the window wide open and the damn curtains were tickling her nose. Groaning she rolled over onto her side and pulled the blanket up to her neck. Sunlight streamed through her window, forcing her to open her sleep-clogged eyes. The first thing she saw was her hand, injured finger and all, resting next to her on her white pillow. The second were a pair of smiling blue eyes. "Huh?" Matt laughed. "Wake up sleepy head," she groaned again and placed her left forearm against her eyes. He laughed again. "It's all done and printed off." She raised the arm across her eyes and gave him the thumbs up. "Thankyou." She reached up again and patted him on the head. When he didn't move she closed her eyes and wished for him to stop annoying her so she could go back to sleep. He grinned then reached down and brushed his lips lightly across hers and left the room. "Huh?" <><><*><><><*><><><*><><><*><><><*><><><*><><> THE END <><><*><><><*><><><*><><><*><><><*><><><*><><> wait a sec.... Heh, heh. Just kidding.