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  Once again, Alex was there, looking down at her from his great height. She was relieved to see that this time, however, he didn't look so unhappy.

  “You aren't mad at me, are you?” He asked carefully, maintaining slightly more distance than he typically did. More than anything else, Elise appreciated that. It was nice to believe he wouldn't press her while she figured out a way through her tangled web of emotions.

  “No, not at all,” she said, forcing a smile up into her eyes. “You saved me from a very embarrassing fall; I'm grateful.” He broke into a small, relieved smile of his own, and Elise decided she ought to lighten the mood a bit. “Although,” she went on seriously. “I really ought to blame you. After all, I wasn't this clumsy until you came along.”

  “Ah,” he cried, dramatically as any Broadway actor as he clapped his hand to his heart. “The fault is mine, dear lady, for causing you such distraction! Would that I could diminish my charms, that your poor mortal being would be shielded!”

  “That's what Zeus said,” one of their classmates muttered as he sidled past them, heading for the door. Elise met Alex's eyes and they both burst out laughing.

  “You walked into that one,” she chucked, swinging her bag over her shoulder.

  Alex walked her home that day, and Elise slowly relaxed as they chatted about normal things-- her favorite color (forest green), his favorite movie (12 Angry Men), and whether physical activities that didn't involve running after balls could still be considered sports. As the conversation turned to music, Elise suddenly remembered her earlier nerves, and turned to him somberly.

  “So, did you hear about the riot this weekend in some club in New York?” She asked him, trying not to betray her burning curiosity about whether or not he'd been there. Now that she knew he was all right, she was more intrigued than worried-- after all, she was a complete stranger to that sort of wild lifestyle.

  Was it just her imagination, or did Alex suddenly look distant? He blinked down at her, but he was smiling in a decidedly self-deprecating manner. “Is that what all the sirens were about? My cousin was all for going to check it out-- we heard what must have been half of NYPD from a few blocks away. But I figured whatever was going down, it would be best to keep my drunken family out of it.” He laughed. “A riot, really?”

  She nodded, returning his grin. “My dad was reading about it in the paper this morning, and my mom got all upset. I suppose she's worried that next thing we know, big city gang hooligans are going to start bashing in our windows with bricks or something.” She snorted. “You know, being a social worker, you'd think she'd be a little more understanding of the underprivileged.”

  “Nah,” Alex laughed. “It's just the opposite, really-- you always think the best of people until you really see them at their worst. After that, it's hard to see the good in anyone. I'd imagine that after some of the crack dens she's probably taken kids out of, she's started seeing evil everywhere.”

  “Wow, aren't you the philosopher?” Elise forced herself to continue smiling despite the goosebumps that had suddenly spread down her arms. He had no idea about the worst of people...

  Alex distracted her from her ruminations by insisting that they take a quick detour down the main street in town so Elise could point out good places to get ice cream or takeout Chinese, and startled her when he greeted the lady at the takeout counter in fluent Mandarin. That quickly sparked a discussion about his love of languages, which evolved into a debate over literature. They spent the last ten minutes of the walk arguing the classics verses modern novels, and Elise laughed more than she had in a long time as she found herself playing devil's advocate just to watch Alex's face turn blotchy when she resolutely insisted that Dickens was an obsolete fraud. He turned the tables on her, though, and despite the fact that she could see the smile he was trying to suppress, she still couldn't help spending an extra five minutes on her front walk ranting at him after he told her that One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest was, in his opinion, a complete waste of ink. It was nice, she reflected after he'd finally admitted defeat and left her on her front porch again, to just have a generally frivolous conversation with someone. She'd almost forgotten what it was like to have regular friends.

  “So who was that?” Her mother's voice startled her as she came through the front door, and she jumped, almost dropping her books for the second time that day.

  “Mom!” Elise gasped, her smile abruptly gone. “You scared the heck out of me. What are you doing home this early?”

  “We had an electrical line short-circuit at the office, and there was no point in staying if we couldn't get any work done. So I ask again,” her mother said sternly, planting her hands on her hips. “Who was that boy?”

  Elise glared at her. “Apparently, having a friend is a crime now?” She demanded sarcastically, annoyed at her mother's accusatory persistence.

  “Only when you seem so guilty about it,” Marie retorted immediately.

  “You're out of your mind,” Elise snapped, and ignoring whatever her mother replied with, she swept past her and up the stairs. “I have homework to do.”

  Once she was safely hidden in her room, however, Elise dumped her heavy backpack on the floor and sank onto her bed, scouring among the pillows until she located her old stuffed cat. Clutching Mr. Fluff to her chest as she had done far too many times over the past few years, she stared out the window and breathed deeply until she was sure she wouldn't cry.

  She hadn't meant to get so defensive, but her mother's disparaging tone had made her feel like walking home with Alex had somehow been wrong. She supposed her mother was downstairs misconstruing her attitude into something much worse than it had been, picturing Elise with that boy sneaking around while she and Elise's father were at work-- Elise felt, often, as if they were watching her for signs that she was doing exactly that. Rather than have to listen to her parents go back and forth at dinner about how poorly behaved she had been and how her loose morals and lack of respect for herself could damage her future, she decided just to stay in her room. She was well aware, having done the same thing for much the same reason throughout her entire high school career, that missing a meal or two wouldn't kill her. Flopping onto her stomach, she stowed Mr. Fluff back under her pillows and grabbed the book she had to read for English class. Great Expectations wasn't her ideal read, necessarily, but thinking about Pip's problems was better than thinking about her own.

  The next day, Elise woke up feeling gloomy and like she wanted to cry, though she didn't immediately remember why. As she cuddled in her nest of soft blankets, fragments of a dream fluttered through her mind-- something about hiding in her room because some undefinable thing was chasing her, a thing that stomped up and down the stairs all night while she cowered underneath her blankets... But there was something in the room with her, too, something that wanted to pull off the covers and her nightgown and even her skin, strip her down to her raw nerves and force her out into the light where everyone could see...

  She shivered violently, rolling onto her side and pulling the covers up around her throat as she fought the urge to be sick.

  BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP!! Elise jumped a mile, her heart hammering in her throat. Apparently, she'd woken up mere minutes before her alarm went off. Fighting to ignore the way her surging adrenaline sent tingles down into the tips of her fingers, she reached over to shut the stupid thing off. Between her nightmares and the alarm clock, Elise was an uncomfortable combination of heavy and jittery, her stomach twisted and her limbs tingling. She had skipped her shower last night as well as dinner, a decision that left her skin feeling sticky and tight. Overall, she thought miserably, today was off to an unpleasant start.

  It wasn't until she was rushing into the shower that Elise really remembered the likely cause of her poor night's sleep. Scowling, she scrubbed herself vigorously, glad she had chosen to hide in her room and go to bed early. Her parents' blatant hypocrisy was annoying at the best of times, but now, when the ups and downs of her new friendsh
ip frequently left her feeling nervous and exposed, it was downright painful. Their lip service to social expectations masked their true unwillingness to allow her to get on with her life, and the fact that they didn't trust her made her doubt herself. All in all, she knew she was better off just staying away from them.

  That was why she had continued to keep her friendship with Alex a secret, even once she had, with relative clarity, defined their relationship. She hadn't consciously made the decision to keep hiding things from them, but then, she was really only willing to admit her parents' faults to herself when they made her angry. The rest of the time, she supposed she was just as bad as they were, pretending things were perfect for the sake of appearances. It was only when they stopped pretending that she allowed all the things she wanted to think and say to spill out. She slammed her palms into the tile walls of the shower, her fury rekindled by the realization that they even dictated the way she thought about them.

  The rest of the morning passed in a haze of distracted clumsiness and bad luck that only served to worsen Elise's mood. The zipper stuck on her skirts, making her wrestle with it for a good five minutes; she banged her hip on the corner of the counter on her way out the door, it took her four tries to get her locker open, she realized in physics class that she'd left her homework at home, and her sociology teacher handed out a pop quiz. By the time she got to lunch, she was ready to give in and cut the rest of the day-- something she hadn't done since she was a freshman.

  She sat down at a table without getting any food, buried her nose in Great Expectations, and tried to gather herself. She almost didn't even look when someone sat down on the other side of the table, but something made her glance up.

  “Alex?!” She yelped. “What are you doing here?”

  “Oh,” he said nonchalantly, leaning back in his flimsy plastic chair. “I saw you in the hallway and you looked like you could use some company. So I'm skipping anatomy class to cheer you up.”

  Elise frowned at him. “You saw me in the hall? When? I didn't see you.”

  He smirked. “Yes, well, I'm a ninja. Don't beat yourself up too badly.” His eyes flicked over her, and she had the sudden urge to hide as she was certain he took in the dark circles under her eyes, her mussed hair, and the cut on her finger that had resulted from her ineffective attempt to take out her frustration by slamming her locker. Embarrassed, she tucked a stray strand of hair back behind her ear. “Rough day?” He asked.

  “A bit, yeah,” she sighed ruefully, smiling a little in spite of herself. She was touched that he'd even noticed something was wrong, let alone sought her out.

  He “hmm”ed synthetically, and she found herself telling him about her mother's unexpected presence when he'd walked her home, and the resulting argument. “I figured it was best just to avoid them both for the rest of the night,” Elise said, and put her head down on her arms. She continued to speak, mumbling to the table and half-hoping he couldn't hear her. “Then I slept like crap and had stupid nightmares, and this morning everything that could go wrong, did go wrong. I felt all gross so I had to grab a shower, so I was running late, and then my clothes didn't want to cooperate, and then the counter attacked me, and then my locker refused to open, and then physics and sociology hated me.” She finished with a huff, well aware that she was pouting and sounded ridiculous, but at the current moment not particularly caring.

  “You're adorable,” she heard him murmur. She felt something on the top of her head and tensed for a moment, then realized it was his fingertips. She forced herself to relax, and after a few seconds genuinely started to calm down as he slowly, gently stroked her hair. “Poor little girl,” he continued softly. “The world is out to get you today, isn't it?”

  “Mhm,” she mumbled as she shyly nuzzled, catlike, into his hand. Her stomach chose that moment to give an embarrassingly loud rumble.

  His hand stilled, and she was glad her arms hid her blush. “Elise, did you skip breakfast since you were so very late?” he asked blandly. She nodded, her head still on her arms. “And you were too busy avoiding your parents to eat dinner last night?” His voice was growing stern, and she nodded again with a little trepidation. “Wait here,” he ordered.

  She lifted her head as he strode across the cafeteria, and noticed as she watched him both the grace of his movement and the large number of heads that turned to look at him as he passed. She hadn't paid much attention before, but now it occurred to her that people were usually watching him. When he spoke in Latin class, both their fellow students and Magistra West seemed to lean towards him, listening intently. Elise certainly knew the power of his charisma, but it was interesting-- and reassuring-- to see how other people were drawn to him, too.

  In a surprisingly short amount of time, Alex came back, and set a tray of food on the table in front of her. “Eat,” he told her severely. She made a face at him, but had to admit that she really was hungry: she took a bite of the school's lukewarm ziti, and even that tasted good.

  After she'd chewed and swallowed obediently for a minute, Elise glanced around, no longer able to ignore the other students in the cafeteria. “They're looking at us,” she grumbled. Alex chuckled.

  Of course they are,” he said, sounding inordinately amused. “The new boy sitting with the girl who barely talks to anyone? They're probably wondering what my secret is.”

  “The new boy sitting with the odd girl in the weird clothes, who has no friends,” Elise contradicted, looking at him like he was an idiot. “They're probably wondering what crime you committed in a past life.” The scrutiny was making her uncomfortable enough that pride alone stopped her from hunching her shoulders in an attempt to shrink herself beneath her peers' notice.

  When she looked back up at Alex, he was frowning at her. “Why does it bother you so much?” He asked curiously.

  Elise shrugged. “I just don't like being noticed.” Alex snorted. “Okay, yes, dressing weird will get you noticed,” she admitted. “But it's a different sort of attention. People look at you at first, because you're a novelty-- but then they just accept that you're weird, you're going to look weird and do weird things, and once they see you as predictable, things are normal for them again. The bigger thing is that once they get used to you, they don't want anything to do with you.”

  “And that's a good thing?” Alex asked, and Elise could tell he was trying not to sound too incredulous.

  “It is,” she said firmly. Deliberately changing the subject, she went on. “So, how are you liking the school, now that you've been here a few days?”

  Alex smiled at her transparent attempt to distract him, but he played along. “Well, the classwork is simple enough. The teachers seem knowledgeable and generally not complete assholes, which is refreshing. I'd say my favorite subject is art: Ms. Thane has some truly inspired views on impressionism. My least favorite class so far would have to be Latin.”

  Elise gaped at him, open-mouthed. “Least favorite!?” She squeaked. “How can you say that?”

  Alex's face was pink, and Elise realized belatedly that he was struggling not to laugh. “Well, Magistra is excellent, and very amusing. But there's this tiny problem where I don't pay much attention to her.”

  “Oh?” Elise asked, raising an eyebrow. Even though she knew he was joking, she wasn't sure where he was going with it, and until she found out she couldn't stop herself from being vaguely offended on Magistra's behalf.

  “Yes, well, there's this girl who sits in front of me, and much as I try to pay attention to the lessons, I usually end up sitting there staring at her instead, trying to figure out what she's thinking while I can't see her face.”

  Elise glared at him. “I'm usually thinking about conjugating irregular verbs. And don't try to fool me into thinking you even need to pay attention.” Alex cocked an eyebrow, and she continued with rising annoyance. “Don't think I've forgotten the first day of school: your card was filled out perfectly. You already speak Latin-- and really, who speaks Latin?-- you're just taki
ng the class because it'll be easy.”

  Alex burst into laughter at her ire. Once again, from the corner of her eye Elise saw heads turn-- this time, however, she was far more preoccupied with telling Alex off. “I did have one word wrong, though,” he said innocently once he had contained his mirth. This assertion only served to further feed Elise's building outrage.

  “Oh, please,” she ground out. “You only wrote that wrong to see if I would notice and correct you.”

  “That desperate for your attention, was I?” He inquired dryly.

  “That desperate for someone to torture,” she shot back, then realized that he had neatly sidetracked her in turn, and subsided into glaring silence.

  Alex seemed to notice she was on to him. Changing tacks, he asked with considerably less mockery, “So, what are we doing after school today?”

  Elise was about to reply with something flirtatious but still snarky, when it occurred to her that her mother might find another excuse to be home after school so she could check up on her daughter. That thought, and the reminder of what she still had to face at whatever time her parents came home, killed any inclination to flirt or play. Concealing her mood's sudden plummet behind a brave face, she gave him a bland shrug. “Actually, I have a lot of homework,” she sighed. “I really should focus on that for a little while.”

  Alex's eyebrows drew together as the laughter left his eyes. He gave her another of his searching looks, and she knew he didn't believe her. That he could read her so easily really was troublesome and disconcerting. “If that's what you want,” he said finally.

  Instinctively, Elise went to reach for him, but thought better of it at the last second and checked the movement. Smiling up at him instead, she said reassuringly, “Alex, really, it's not like that. It's just, my AP classes are really piling on homework already, and I'm getting swamped. I just need to take a couple of days to catch up, but I promise, as long as our plans for this weekend are still on, Saturday I'm all yours.” Accustomed though she was to lying through her teeth, it bothered her to lie to Alex. That was a dangerous line of thinking, however, and she shut it down as best she could.