Learning

A Rainbow Side Story

Regan scowled down at his test and gripped his head in both hands, the pencil in his left hand pressing against his scalp.

Math—he hated everything about it. Algebra, Geometry, Trigonometry, Calculus—he didn’t even know what that was. “Bah,” as ‘Bastion would have said, to hell with all of it.  He’d studied for hours and hours all year; he’d barely left his room in the past two weeks.  And all for nothing - here he was as clueless as ever. Days of studying and the first question may as well have been Greek—no some of it was Greek. What do they speak in Tahiti? Should have just watched movies or something.  At least I could’ve had fun before failing miserably.

Disgusted, Regan dropped his hands, bringing the pencil down to start filling in the bubble sheet at random.  Finishing rapidly, a glance at the clock told him he still had well over an hour to kill.  Instantly bored, Regan looked to his desk for a distraction. Bubble sheet, exam, scrap paper—calculators were not permitted. 

Shoving aside the exam and bubble sheet, Regan pulled the scrap paper in front of him.  Lifting his pencil again he held it so the pencil was almost perfectly vertical, and gripped it loosely. With fluid, practiced motions he began to scrawl strange looking patterns down the paper, starting on the right hand side of the paper and working his way to the left.  The pencil made sweeping, swirling strokes across the page, the Japanese calligraphy flowing from his hands with long familiarity. 

Reaching the end, he flipped the page over and began again. He frowned lightly in concentration, pouring his energy into forming the kanji correctly, 'beautifully' as his stepmother would say.

Halfway through the second sheet, Regan paused. Someone was watching him, but a quick glance to the front of the room showed only that the teacher was more asleep than awake, looking down at a book. Frowning, Regan turned his head to look over his shoulder.  His frown deepened as he caught the eyes of the last person he expected to catch watching him

Chris Mooreland was staring at him, expression intent.  Realizing he'd been caught, he dropped his gaze back to his test.  Regan turned back around in his seat, taking a quick glance at the teacher to make sure the odd exchange had gone unnoticed.  He seemed to have fallen asleep completely.

Rolling his eyes, Regan once again lifted his pencil and resumed his calligraphy. What the hell is Chris staring at me for? I haven't done anything to him in forever.  Sheesh, I barely even look at him anymore.  He shifted nervously in his seat, trying to ignore the guilty voice that reminded him of the bright pink envelope and glitter bedecked card tucked away inside his book bag.  I haven't given it to him, so it doesn't count.  Losing all interest in calligraphy, Regan dropped his pencil and settled for simply sitting idle at his desk.  Stifling a yawn, he turned to gaze out the window.  Movement from the corner of his eye had him turning his head again, only to catch a familiar dark-blonde head dropping once again.  What the hell is he up to?  Narrowing his bright blue eyes, Regan glared at the other boy.

The sudden chiming of the bell made him jump, and he turned swiftly in his seat to gather his test and pass it in as the teacher roused himself to rise and collect them.  Regan handed his papers to the boy in front of him then began to gather his things.  The gravelly tone of the teacher's voice stopped him.  "Mr. Mooreland, Mr. McLeod - I would like to speak to the two of you after class.

Regan stifled a groan, burying his head in his arms on the desk.  Slowly he sat up, heaving a sigh as he grabbed his bag, lifting it up over his head and onto this right shoulder. His blazer he slung over the bag not bothering to put it back on.  With heavy steps he trudged to the front of the room, stopping in front of the teacher's desk.

He looked up briefly as a figure joined him at desk, taking a quick look at the taller, more muscular form of Chris Mooreland.  The other boy didn't return the glance, instead staring at the whiteboard behind the teacher.  Regan willed his heartbeat to slow down. I haven't done anything, there's no reason to be nervous…ha ha ha. When am I not nervous around him?

Seated at his desk, the teacher was rifling through the stack of tests so recently taken up.  "Mr. McLeod, Mr. Mooreland. I have noticed - the whole school has really - that your feud seems to have ceased this year.  I would like to commend you both; it's about time you got your act together.

"Yes, sir" the two chorused, not looking at each other.

"I don't suppose you would care to explain to me the reason for your sudden exemplary behavior?  Mr. McLeod?"

"No special reason, sir." Regan looked away, toward the door.  Can't we just leave? I didn't think torture was permitted in school any longer.  Get me away from him.

"Hmm…Mr. Mooreland?"

"No reason sir. Just too busy I guess."

"Indeed.  Well, I have ulterior motives for bringing this up, as I'm sure you've guessed. Mr. McLeod, I noticed that you finished your test with unusual speed.  Either your skills have improved, which I doubt, you were cheating, which I also doubt, or you were simply guessing.  Examining your test, I would hazard to say that would be the case."

Cheeks flushing in humiliation, Regan mumbled a barely audible "Yes, sir" while still staring at the door. I wonder if anyone would notice if he didn't show up for classes on Monday.

"I am disappointed," he continued.  "Clearly you're not studying enough."

Regan looked up, face flushing with anger rather than embarrassment. "I study everyday - usually all day. It's not my fault none of this makes sense!"

"I find it hard to believe you study that often, when your grades so far this year are so terrible and your grades last year were much, much higher."

"That was only because Sebastion was here to help me." Regan said in frustration.

"Ah, Lord. I see - well, that means you should have very little problem with my next comment.  As you stand now, you are not going to pass the first term.  Probably not even this year, which would be unfortunate.

No, really? "Yes, sir."

"I am going to recommend you take on the class' best math student as your tutor. Especially seeing as said student's participation grade is already at an all time low." He looked pointedly at Chris.

Regan frowned as the boy beside him started.  "Sir?" Please don't say what I think you're going to say. I'm too young to have a heart attack.

The teacher smiled, "I mean that given your recent truce of the past few months, I am suggesting that Mr. Mooreland here serve as your tutor.

No, no, no, no, no.

"And by suggestion, I mean require. Have a pleasant day, gentlemen."  Regan barely registered his teacher's words as he spun roughly away and out the door. He pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead to will away the headache he could feel building. Not fair not fair not fair. I'm done with him; they can't make me interact with him again. It isn't fair. A soft touch on his shoulder caused Regan to jump with a strangled cry, hand going up defensively as he jerked around and glared up at the source - Chris Mooreland. Go away go away go away. "What do you want?"

Mooreland frowned at him, "Are we going to talk or not?"

"There's nothing to talk about. Thanks but no thanks." Regan turned away, resettling his book bag and continuing on down the already empty hallway - the school discouraged loitering and with exams done for the day there was so reason to linger. Figures there's never a crowd when you want one.

Nearly snarling, Regan started to jerk away when Chris touched him again but the other man had a tight grip on his shirt and Regan found himself hauled into a nearby classroom before he could pull free.  He glared irritably as he realized Chris was purposely blocking the door.  "What?" he bit out.

"Look," Chris' expression was stubborn, determined.

Regan interrupted him, "Forget it, Mooreland. I'm not that stupid. We both know it's a dumb idea." And I'm not that much of a glutton for punishment. Ruthlessly Regan squashed the feelings he knew were trying to resurrect now that he was talking to Chris after months of trying to pretend the man didn't exist. "Get out of my way and leave me the hell alone."

Chris let him pass but his hesitant words froze the redhead in his tracks, "How's Lord?"

Blue eyes narrowed, "What do you care?"

"I haven't seen him around anywhere. Not even outside of school."

"No kidding. Probably because he's been expelled and shipped out to parts unknown." Regan started to say something more but was brought up short by the guilt that flickered across the blond man's face.

Chris's gaze dropped to the floor, "I know you don't give a damn," he looked back up, "But I didn't want that to happen. My father and I had a huge fight about. Hell--" he cut off whatever he'd been about to say. "Anyway…I…I’m sorry. For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

"Ah…" Great. Wonderful. Chris is making me feel guilty. I should just let him suffer. Damn it. "Mooreland…look, don't worry about it. I don't know if I'm supposed to tell you but…Bastion wanted to be expelled. All right? So forget about it."  Regan spun away.

"What!" Chris grabbed the back of his shirt and hauled him back into the room. "What the hell does that mean? You both harassed me just to get Lord expelled?

"No! Sebastion harassed you to get expelled. I harassed you --for the hell of it. Now that I've assuaged your guilt, can I go now?"

"You realize we have no choice in the tutoring."

Regan snorted, "Yeah we do. I choose not to put up with it. If I fail, I fail. There's no way it would ever work." There's no way I'd be able to remain sane.

"You don't know that."

"Why do you care!" Regan burst out, "You don't need me to fix your damn participation grade and I don't need to deal with you again. I'm finished! Leave me the hell alone." Pressing the heel of his hand to his head again, Regan yanked open the classroom door and dashed out.

Chris watched him go, his expression a combination of confusion and misery.

At a half run Regan fled the school building. Damn it I was over him. Am over him. This isn't fair. He took a deep breath as he passed the gates and joined the semi-crowded city sidewalk. Doesn't matter. Tomorrow I'll just go back to ignoring him and everything will be fine. I can find another tutor if I have to and I didn't give him the card so everything should be okay. Fumbling in his bag for a moment Regan finally withdrew the bright pink envelope that had felt like a lead weight in his bag all day.

He hadn't sealed it, on the off chance he thought of something more to write inside.  Pulling the card out, he smiled briefly at the sight of the bright, drowned-in-glitter flowers on the front of it. Flipping it open he read it for what must have been at least the hundredth time. The card's print read, 'A bouquet of flowers for my dearest girl, on her special day. Happy Birthday,' and beneath that Regan winced at his own handwriting, 'With utmost love and affection, Reg.' What was I thinking? Oh, right - I'm lonely and miserable and clearly suicidal. What does it take for me to learn my lesson? But I didn't give it to him, maybe that means I am learning something?"

"Ha," he muttered aloud. If I hadn't already been nearly late for class I probably would have. Lucky for me his locker isn't anywhere near mine. Damn it! "I can't believe he had the nerve to suggest Mooreland be my tutor! Like hell!"  I just hope he doesn't call home; man mom would probably call Chris herself and make all the arrangements before I could speak. He shoved the card into the pocket on the front of his bag.

Grimacing at the idea of his mother speaking with Chris, Regan turned right as he approached a massive intersection. It's time for coffee and something hideously sweet. Then I'm going to go home and pretend this whole afternoon never happened.

"Regan!" a bright voice called his name, and he was unable to resist smiling back.

"Hey, Rachel."

The woman's face turned serious as she grabbed his shoulders and shook him, "Where have you been? We haven't seen you in ages. Grandmama was beginning to think you'd abandoned us."

Regan smiled sheepishly at her, "Sorry, Rach. Guess I've been busy."

Well, no worries. Stay and talk awhile and I'll forgive you." She rolled her eyes, "I think Grandmama did the minute she saw you." She indicated the elderly woman at the counter behind her.

Smiling warmly Regan stepped toward the counter and let the old woman embrace him. "Sorry, Mary. Didn't mean to disappear. Life's been busy."

"That's all right. I've got a cinnamon roll with your name on it, if you like." She bustled around arranging food and coffee on a small tray for him, not bothering to wait to see if Regan agreed or not. "Here you are. Go ahead and eat, calm Rachel down and I'll give you some snacks to take home to your mother. But be sure to come talk to me tomorrow morning, young man. Hear me?"

"Yes, ma'am." Tossing money down on the counter, Regan let Rachel drag him to a seat in the back. He looked at her as he picked up his coffee, "Shouldn't you be waitressing or something?" With a thump his bag dropped to the floor and he shoved it under the table and out of the way, not noticing as a pink envelope slid out of the open front pocket and fell to the floor.

"Nah, it's not busy enough yet. The other girls can handle the crowd without me for a bit. So where have you been? Haven't seen you since school started. We really were beginning to think you'd forgotten all about us."

"I really am sorry. I've…been busy." Busy avoiding places that remind me of Bastion and Chris. Today must have shaken me up more than I thought if I came back here. And now I have to come again tomorrow, great.

"Busy my ass. You look awful. What's wrong?"

Everything. "Nothing."

"Fine, be that way. Grandmama will just get it out of you tomorrow morning anyway. I can wait."

"Thanks so much. And nothing's wrong."

"Liar," Rachel said pleasantly as she stole a piece of his cinnamon roll. "Confess."

"What? It's nothing exciting, really. I'm failing math. That's it."

"Have you tried getting a tutor?"

Regan dropped his head to bang it against the table.

"Um…was that a bad question?"

"Just a question I'm tired of. I'll figure something out." Lord only knows what…hahaha, that wasn't funny. "Anyway, how's it been with you? Shouldn't you be graduating or something this year?"

"Yeah! All set for college and everything, just need to finish high school. My life isn't terribly interesting. How's Bastion these days? Is he doing okay at his new school? I miss you two always in here plotting and causing trouble. Are you still messing with that one guy you were always talking about?"

"Oh, Bastion's fine. And I've retired from the whole trouble thing. Guess I'm getting old, it's not much fun anymore. Too much work and my mom is drilling me more than ever on my lessons."

Rachel grinned, "Still determined to make you as Japanese as possible. You still do that calligraphy you were always showing off in here?"

"Mmm, yeah. Mom says I've got a long way to go before I'm up to standard but that I'm improving at a nice rate. She says if I can get good enough by the time I graduate, she and dad will let me go to school in Japan if I can get accepted. Wouldn’t that be awesome? I may even be able to stay with her relatives there, though I'm kinda nervous about it. But I've got a whole year and a half to decide yet and I doubt I'll get that if I don't figure out how to bring my math grades up…damn it." I'll find someone else to help me; Chris isn't the only one that's good at math. Anything is better for me than spending that kind of time with him. Anything.

"Aww," Rachel frowned, "You were almost sounding like your old self for a bit there, Reg. You really are upset about something - has your stupid math grade got you that upset?"

"Something like that." Downing what was left of his coffee, Reg grabbed his bag and stood, "I'm not as hungry as I thought - I think I'll just go home and face the music. See you later, Rachel. Tell your grandmother bye for me." Without a backward glance he left the coffee shop.

What's wrong with me? I can't be that upset by having one short, stupid conversation with him. And I'm not letting him tutor me so it's not like I have to talk to him ever again.  Damn it, I'm over him. That's the end of the matter.  Regan picked up his pace as his building came into view.

"I'm home, mom!" Regan pulled his shoes off and dropped them by the elevator, padding across the living room rug toward the kitchen.

A short, small Japanese woman greeted at him from where she stood over the stove. "Welcome home, Regan." She beamed as he stooped to kiss her cheek, "How did your tests go?"  She frowned as his face fell, "I see. But you studied so hard, Regan… well, never mind for the moment. Your father was called away again, so it is just you and I for dinner."

"Who's trying to destroy the bank this time?"

"I did not get a chance to ask. He should be home sometime tomorrow."

Regan rifled through the fridge, "That's cool. Did you get any work done on your jewelry today?"

"Yes," Michiko turned away from the stove, "I completed the sapphire necklace I was designing and have an idea in mind for the pearl/ruby set I'm supposed to work on next. Dinner will be ready around five o'clock. I hope you did not eat too much at the coffee shop."

Laughing as he closed the fridge and popped open his soda, Regan shook his head at his stepmother, "You and your nose. I was only in there for a little while. And no, Rachel ate most of my snack. I just stuck with the coffee."

His stepmother nodded slowly and then indicated he should sit down at the small kitchen table. "So tell me about your test. Why did you do so poorly? You studied so hard, Regan. What is wrong?"

"I don't know," Regan said glumly, "I just can't make any sense of it. I thought I had it but without my textbook I just couldn't make sense of anything. My teacher says I need a tutor."

Michiko nodded, "That is a good idea. Did he recommend anyone?"

Regan winced and looked at the tabletop as he spoke, "Yeah - he wants Chris Mooreland to tutor me."

"That is an interesting idea," Michiko looked thoughtful. "He is good at math, then?"

"Yeah, he's one of the top students in my grade. Mom, you can't be serious? I'm not going to have him tutor me?" I knew she'd do it. I really wish I wasn't such a rotten liar.

Michiko's face turned serious, "And why not? Perhaps it would be good for you, in more ways than one. Ignoring a problem, Regan, does not make it go away. What is that phrase your father is always using?" Her soft accent become more pronounced as she struggled a moment to recall it, "Kill two birds with one stone? You can reconcile with him and improve your math grade."

"How am I supposed to reconcile with him?  Forget it," Regan said sourly. "I'm not doing it. I'm done with him. Didn't you want me to stop all my foolishness?"

His mother nodded, expression a mixture of sternness and concern. "Yes, I did. And you have stopped, I am grateful. However this wallowing in misery is no better."

"I am not wallowing in misery!" Regan protested but then flushed at his stepmother's reproving glance, "I'm just lonely without Rainbow, is all."

Michiko nodded, "I understand that your missing Sebastion is half the reason you're so miserable these days. But at present there is nothing you can do about him. However you can do something about the other half, can't you?"

"There is no other half!" Regan rose to his feet, "It's over. I'm done with him. I'll find someone else to tutor me."

"You will sit down."

Regan sat. His mother rose to her feet and fetched the portable phone from the counter. He watched her warily as she dialed information and began speaking, eyes wide with panic. "Mother! You can't be serious! Don't call him!"

She motioned for him to be silent as she began speaking. "Hello. I am hoping to speak with Christopher Mooreland…I see. Do you know where he might be reached? Thank you very much."  Frowning as she hung up the phone, Michiko looked at her son. "He apparently does not live with his parents."

"What does that mean?"

"The woman I spoke with says he moved out some time ago and she did not have his current number. I did not ask for more information. Does he live with other relatives?"

"Don't ask me. I never heard anything about Mooreland moving out."

Michiko stood to return to the stove, "Well, you will simply speak with him tomorrow about the tutoring."

"But I already told him no."

"Then you will tell him you changed your mind. If not, then I will simply call your teacher and make sure things are arranged. Am I understood?"

Regan threw away his empty can and grabbed his book bag, "Yes, you're understood. It's a bad idea though, mom. You should just let me find another tutor." He turned and headed for his room, not bothering to wait for her reply.

Well at least it won't be my fault if I start getting into fights again. Why can't I just be left alone? Life was a lot easier when I was alone. Wish I'd been smart enough to leave things that way. Sighing Regan deposited his bag near his bed, hanging up his blazer before stripping out of the rest of his school uniform and exchanging it for a pair of loose jeans and an old, dark blue t-shirt.  He stared at himself in the mirror over his dresser a moment before sighing and turning away - his eyes landed on a small, framed photograph. It was one of him and Sebastion, from one of the many nights the black sheep of the Lord family had slept over at his place.

He turned away from the picture, gloomier than ever. I wonder what he's doing now. Does he miss me? That's ridiculous, of course he does. Collapsing on his bed, Regan stared up at the ceiling. It isn't fair. Everything was supposed to be better after Sebastion got away. Why does it seem like everything is worse? But then really it's only worse for me. Sebastion got what he wanted, Chris must be glad that we're leaving him alone so he got what he wanted…it's just me that's miserable. I'm sure there's a lesson in there somewhere.

Morosely Regan turned onto his side and closed his eyes, knowing his mother would wake him up for dinner and more than willing to ignore the world by napping until then.

"What are you planning to do the rest of the night, Regan?" Michiko sipped her tea and watched as her son finished loading the dishwasher and tidying the kitchen.

"I've got my history exam to study for. Should go about a hundred times better than math." He finished cleaning and kissed his mother's cheek, "Thanks again for dinner. I'll be in my room if you need me."

She smiled and waved him off, "Come say goodnight before you go to bed."

Regan nodded and returned to his bedroom. He dragged his book bag onto his bed with him and pulled out a heavy textbook and two small, spiral notebooks.  Hell, I wonder if I even really need to study. This stuff is all easy. If only I was half so good at math…damn it, I don't want to think about this. It's going to be a disaster. I'm not going to do it. Mom can't make me if I'm really against it. He abandoned all pretense of studying, shoving his materials aside to just sit miserably on his bed. Argh, I'm over him now.

So why do I have to keep reminding myself of that? Why can't I get it through my head that there's nothing there? He doesn't like me, he never liked me, and even if he did he's straight so there was never a chance of him liking me anyway. Jeez I'm pathetic. I wish had more sense than to fall for a straight guy that I've made hate me and become friends with a guy who only wanted to run away. Not that I blame him, if I were Bastion I would have run away too. Damn it, I wish he'd done something I could be mad at him for. That'd be a lot easier. 

Grimacing at his thoughts Regan climbed off his bed and wandered to the window. He glared down at the city below, letting his head thump against the glass. What am I going to do? I was done with him. How am I going to handle having him as a tutor? Mom's nuts - it's not going to solve anything. It'll only make matters worse.

"It's too damn early to be awake," Regan grumbled aloud. "When the sidewalks are mostly empty there's a problem." Tiredly he rubbed his eyes, making a point not to think about why he'd barely slept. "That's the last time I agree to see anyone first thing in the morning. Even if they do make really good muffins."

Blearily he rapped on the front door of the coffee shop, managing to return Rachel's greeting as he wandered inside. He started to smile at the elderly woman sitting in the middle of the shop when he caught sight of the man seated next to her. He froze. No. Too early. Sneak attack not fair. "What the hell are you doing here?" He managed to glare at Chris, who he was at least gratified to see was just as shocked as he was.

"You know Chris?" Rachel came up beside him. "Duh me - you guys both go to the Academy, I guess you would know each other."

Regan ignored her, "What are you doing here?" he repeated.

Mary answered, patting Chris' hand affectionately. "He's renting the apartment above ours. Moved in beginning of the summer, helps us with the heavy chores."

It's too damn early in the morning for this shit. I'm not dealing with it. Why the hell is he living on his own? Not thinking about it. "I really should probably--"

"Sit your ass down." Rachel shoved him into a nearby chair. "We made chocolate chip muffins just for you, so sit down and eat them."

Damn it. "Yes, ma'am." Regan picked up one of the muffins and forced himself to eat it, every bite dry and tasteless as he studiously avoided looking at the man seated across from him. Why the hell is he staring at me?

The two women seemed oblivious to the tension. Rachel picked up her coffee mug, "I'm getting a refill. Grandmama, would you like one?" At her grandmother's nod, she took the proffered mug and went to refill them both. A minute later she retuned, "Oh, Regan. You dropped this yesterday. At least I think you were the one who left it." She dropped a bright pink envelope down on the table.

Regan could swear he felt his heart stop, and he wasn't sure if his face was turning red or going pale - probably pale, he didn't feel hot. Wide eyed he looked up at Chris, who had already seen his own name written across the front. Too late Regan moved to snatch it up, barely able to breathe as Chris grabbed it instead.  I'm dead dead dead. Damn it! How could I not notice I'd lost it? Why the hell does he live here anyway?

He didn't wait for Chris to open it, and knowing it would be a wasted effort to get it back, he settled for grabbing his book bad and bolting. The startled cries didn't slow him down. I'll send them a note or something. From Iceland. Shit shit shit. "Gah!" he let out a strangled cry as was abruptly jerked backwards by the collar of his shirt. Hunching his shoulders, he waited unable to turn around.

"I don't get you McLeod."

Join the club. "Feelings mutual." Regan still didn't turn around, dismayed when Chris instead stepped around to face him.

"Yesterday you could barely stand to look at me…but clearly you were going to give this to me."

"No, I wasn't." His cheeks turned red.

Chris frowned, "Come off it. You're not fooling anyone. What did you do, chicken out?"

"Something like that. Are we done now? We're going to be late for class."

"No, we're not. We've still got an hour. And what do you mean you chickened out? That's not like you."

Regan's expression darkened. "Things change. Maybe I'm just tired of getting the shit beat out of me. So unless you have your heart set on it, I'd prefer to just skip that part. I'm sorry, okay?" Regan shoved past him.

"Would you believe me if I said I had no intention of hurting you?"

"No," Regan kept walking. He resigned himself to talking when Chris stopped him again.  Tiredly he looked up at the man, sighing as he admitted to himself that nothing had changed at all since the end of their sophomore year. 

Christopher Mooreland was the only son of the owner of the academy they both attended, tall and blonde with the build of a swimmer. A member of the swim team and the math club and powerful enough that he could actually get away with getting into frequent fights with the son of one of the most powerful families around. And straight as an arrow. Completely out of reach, so far as Regan was concerned.  And he's not even an asshole. Unless of course you send him roses and musical cards on a fairly regular basis. But I guess getting those from a guy would annoy any straight man.

"Well, I don't. And I'm sorry for all the times I did do it." Chris looked as if he wasn't sure about what he was doing.

Regan looked at him like he'd just said something unpleasant, "Stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Apologizing. It's not like you."

The blonde man was silent a moment. "Things change," he said finally.

Regan refused to soften, "Yeah, they do. Now if you don't mind I'd like to get to school."

"Would you just listen to me!" Chris burst out suddenly and Regan stumbled to a halt in surprise. "I know you don't want to, that you probably hate me by this point," his expression was a mix of anger and desperation, "But considering you and Lord are the reason my parents are no longer speaking to me, I'd think the least you could do is listen to me."

No longer speaking…what the hell? No fair throwing that at me! "How is that my fault?"

"Because it was by defending you and that brat Lord that my I made my dad angry enough to all but kick me out." Chris glared at the street beyond Regan, then shook himself. "So could we just talk? After that I swear I'll leave you alone if you want."

Regan wearily let his head drop, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. Finally he sighed and looked up, mad at himself for immediately noting that Chris' mint-green eyes looked even better when they weren't bright with anger. "It's not like I have a choice anyway. My mom more or less ordered me to arrange tutoring sessions.  I've only got one test today so I'm going home early. Come by my house after school."

If I fail my history exam because of this I'm going to kill him.

I guess jumping out the window isn't an option. Pity, I'd probably be all right if I landed in that tree…Regan thumped his head against the cool glass of his window, staring down at the busy streets.  He pulled back to glance at his watch. Already after four…maybe he's not coming? That's too good to be true.

As if echoing his thoughts, there was a sharp rap at his door and his mom poked her head through, "Regan, you have a guest." Then she smirked in what Regan's dad often called her 'evil imp causing trouble' way. I wonder what dad would say to all this. Probably agree with her to save his own skin, the traitor. Slowly he dragged himself to his feet, irritably reminding himself to breath when Chris stepped inside and his mother disappeared.  Why is his hair wet? There's no swim practice during exams.

Awkwardly Chris rubbed the back of his neck and attempted a smile, "Sorry I'm late. Forgot I agreed to work this afternoon."

"Work? Since when do you work?"

Chris shrugged, looking discomfited. "Since I left home, man. My parents were pretty damn clear about not paying for me to be stupid. So I work."

"What do you do?" Regan asked despite himself, waving the man into the room if only so he'd sit down and appear less threatening.

Settling down in the armchair near the window Chris smiled again, this time more genuinely. "I help out at the athletic center near the Square. I lifeguard and teach a few swim and water fitness classes. Mostly in the evening, though over the summer I taught kids a lot. It's not so bad, really. And I help at the café some."

Didn't expect to hear that. Who would've thought…but…"What about the swim team? How do you have time for all of it?"

Chris looked at him disbelievingly, "You really have been out of it. Did you actually miss the blowout I had with my coach? I quit, man. All of it."

How in the hell did I miss that?! "You did what? Why? What the hell?" Regan gave up any pretense of not caring, "What's going on? I don't get any of this."

"It's easy. My dad and I had a huge fight after Lord's…" Chris flushed and hesitated a moment, "After Lord's stunt. Dad of course wanted him expelled - I protested." He looked up at Regan, expression oddly serious. "The whole…whatever it was…was between the three of us. I didn't think it was fair for Lord to get expelled when all three of us had a hand in it. Hell, Regan," his voice took on a tone Regan couldn't place, "It started just between the two of us. If anyone should have been busted, it was you and I."

"Yeah…except like I said, he wanted to get expelled." Regan looked guiltily away. "Believe me, wherever he is he's probably thrilled to not be here."

Familiar annoyance laced Chris' voice, "You could have just told me that, you know. Instead of driving me insane did it occur to either of you that I was the perfect one to ask? You guys were always crazy as hell."

"Yeah, like you would have bothered. Or didn't you notice that by that point you'd already given me too many bruises to count? I don't recall us being on friendly terms by that point, Mooreland."

Frustration clouded Chris' face, "And I don't recall being the one who started the whole thing. Unless I'm mistaken you were the one who began bothering me."

"You threw the first punch."

Chris opened his mouth, this shut it with a hard click of his teeth. He sighed and tried again, "I know. I'm sorry."

Damn it to hell and back. "Stop it. Just stop doing that."

"Stop doing what?" Chris asked, confused.

"Apologizing," Regan leaned back against cold glass and rubbed his temple, "Stop apologizing. It isn't fair at all."

"But I--"

"I don't want to hear it. You came here to tell me how Bastion and I are to blame for your leaving home. I highly doubt an argument over Bastion's getting expelled was the entire reason. Unless you actually care that much."

Chris looked as if he wanted to argue but after a lengthy silence he finally sighed and resumed explaining, "No, that was just the last straw. There were other things…did you know he almost kicked you out?"

"Actually I was kind of surprised I wasn't." Please please don't tell me Chris is the reason I wasn't. I don't think I could take it.

"It was really close. But…" he turned his head to look out the window, shifting restlessly in his seat and not looking at Regan as he replied. "But I managed to convince him not." He finished abruptly.

Regan shot him a puzzled look, "How?"

"I told him if he expelled you then I'd quit." He gave a short laugh, "Do you know how bad it would look if I up and quit my own damn school? Well, to date I'll still inherit it. That might still change, who knows." His grin was one Regan was well familiar with - more predatory than friendly.

Much better when it's not directed at me. "Why? I would have thought you'd prefer to be rid of both of us. You made it clear on several occasions that you couldn't wait until the day we were gone for good. Call me crazy, Mooreland but I think you missed your chance."

"Ah…well…" Chris flushed and went back to staring past him and out the window.

Regan wasn't sure about what he was seeing. What the hell is he so disconcerted about?

"Like I said, I didn't think it was right for my dad to interfere. It was our business, no one else's is. To be honest I never understood why you dragged Lord into it. I mean I guess I see now but still…"

Sighing Regan turned his head to gaze out at the quickly darkening city. Night wasn't wasting any time falling. Well, hell. I guess it's my turn to apologize. "…I hadn't actually meant to, really. He really only got involved because we couldn't see any other way…it probably wasn't right, so I'm sorry. And about your parents too - I never thought you'd get kicked out because I never learned to keep my mouth shut."

Chris looked startled, "Ah - don't worry about it. And they didn't kick me out so much as not put up much fuss that I was leaving. It was coming, you and Lord just sort of sped things up. So in a weird way I guess it almost all works out - I'm out of my house, Lord is out of his."

Everyone gets what he wants except me. Ah, but I have Chris alone in my room. I guess that's something, even if we're just talking. "Peachy. I guess that's that then." He glared down at the still busy streets.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Ask away."

"What was up with the birthday card?"

Damn. I was hoping he'd not bring that up. "Old habits die hard I guess."

Chris stared down at his hands, shifting in his seat. "I was…actually kind of happy to see it."

WHAT? "The hell does that mean?" Regan whipped his head around, eyes narrowed.

Green eyes stared intently up at him, though his cheeks were still lightly flushed. "I…I dunno. You haven't been the same since Lord disappeared. Which makes sense, you guys were pretty tight," Regan could swear he heard…something…in Chris' voice, but he refused to believe that it was what he thought it was. Chris looked down at his hands again and then forced his gaze back up. "It used to be no one could shut you up. Whether it was pissing me off or talking to Lord or answering a teacher's question, it was all anyone could do to get you to shut up. But now you almost never talk. It's like you've forgotten how. I thought…" He looked away, focusing his eyes on Regan's suddenly fascinating bookcase. "I thought the card meant you were back to your old self."

"I'm surprised you noticed. Or even cared."

Chris suddenly looked tired, fingers upsetting his perpetually neat hair. "Over the summer all I could think about was how upset you'd be, how mad you'd be that Lord got expelled. Then when school started you just started ignoring me. At first it was a relief but…" he lifted his eyes to Regan's, his expression stating very clearly that it was nearly impossible for him to speak. Once again he looked away, words faint as he finished speaking, "but then I realized I missed you."

Regan realized he couldn't remember how to speak. Or think. He tried to make himself say something, anything, "You missed me?" and winced inwardly at the slightly hopeful tone. I really do still have it bad. It's not fair of him. Why couldn't he just stay the hell away?

"Yeah." Confusion and misery mingled on his face as Chris faced him once more. "I've been trying to talk to you for ages…that's why I kept looking at you during the exam. I was going to try to catch you after class - then the tutoring thing…"

I can't handle this. "So what, you want to go back to me taunting you and picking fights, and you beating me up?"

"No!" Hands clenched and unclenched, "I want…I don't know!" Chris buried his head in his hands, eyes on the carpet. "I spent the whole summer trying to figure shit out. I went out of my fucking mind dealing with shit I didn't know how to deal with. Then you ignored me and I was relieved because it meant I didn't have to deal with it…but it just seemed to get worse." He laughed nervously, "I kept trying to talk to you but it seemed that you pretty much hated me so I wasn't sure what to do…"

Regan was torn between a desire to jump out his window and a need to know exactly what was bothering his obviously distressed crush. And seeing as I haven't and probably never will learn my lesson…"I don't see why you're so distressed, it's not like we really have a lot to talk about. Besides Lord and how stupid all three of us were - which we've covered."

"I…was it really that you hated me that you started the whole thing? None of it never made sense to me. I think that was part of the reason I was so…violent at first. I used to rack my brain for something I did to earn your dislike but could never come up with a single thing - and you just taunted me over and over again. And then you dragged Lord into it and I got eve more confused. Even now I can't figure out why you did it."

Is he really that damn dense? Good grief, I can't take this. Maybe…maybe I should send him running and screaming once and for all. He looked away, forehead once more pressed to cold glass, as he looked unseeing at the night scene below. His voice was shaky, "Are you that clueless…Chris…that you can't put two and two together? Even I know that much math."

"I think I was always scared to," Chris focused desperately on Regan's bookcase.

Regan resisted the urge to turn and run. "Isn't it the old playground rule? That boys harass the girls they like to get their attention?"

"That's…" Chris trailed off briefly, "That's what I thought…"

Miserably Regan waited for Chris to get up and leave, or hit him, or something.

He jumped what seemed like several feet in the air when instead he felt a soft touch on his shoulder, spinning around and knocking his head against the window. "What?" he stared wide-eyed up at the blonde.

"Do you still? Like me?" Chris was staring at him hard, searching for something in Regan's face.

"Isn't it obvious?" Regan stared at his feet.

Chris worried his bottom lip, "I told you I drove myself crazy thinking about things this summer…it was hard at times, admitting things to myself. Like the fact that I was jealous of Lord."

"What?" Regan looked up, startled. Face still red with humiliation he tried to look away again - but Chris wouldn't let him, holding his face in one hand and forcing Regan to keep looking at him.

"Then I had to figure out why I was jealous of Lord - that took a long time. But I finally did it, and let me tell you I really didn't know what the hell to do after I figured it out."

"Fi...figured what out?"

Chris' face was a mixture of amusement and fear, "That as aggravating and troublesome and noisy as you are, I like it. Like you. A lot. Enough that it made me insane when you and damn Lord became all buddy-buddy. Especially when rumors flew you were dating. I told myself I just didn't like going two against one - but really I was just mad he stole so much of your attention. I liked it better when you focused it all on me." He let go and stepped away, as if bracing himself for an attack.

Throughout his short speech Regan had gone from red and silent to pale and incapable of speech. He gaped dumbfounded, "But…but…that…" Regan began blinking his blue eyes furiously, pressing the heel of his hands to his eyes to ward off what he refused to admit were tears. I am not going to cry. I'm not a big baby. It's just a big joke on me, one last bit of revenge. It just can't be true. Too good to be. There's no way I'd humiliate myself further by crying, Bastion would beat the living shit out of me.

"Holy shit. Regan - what's wrong? Are you okay?" Chris cast a longing glance at the bedroom door but resolutely turned back to the crying redhead, frowning in consternation. Stepping forward he dropped his hands on Regan's shoulders, shaking him gently. "C'mon, what the hell?"

"It isn't fair! Everyone…got what they wanted…Bastion is gone. You're on your own, we're not bugging you anymore…and now…now you're telling me…exactly what I want…to hear…and I know…it's just some big joke…" Jeez why the hell did I have to cry? Way to be a complete loser.

Warm hand firmly pulled Regan's away from his face, and the redhead stared up at Chris with cloudy blue eyes. He looked away, "Leave me alone."

"Not until you calm down. Why the hell would you think I'm joking? Do you honestly think I'd come all the way here to tell say something like that and then reveal it to be some damn joke? That's not funny. It was hard enough to admit to myself, Regan. And only a million times harder to tell you. There's no joke." He frowned when Regan made no reply. "Jeez, this isn't like you at all." He sighed, dropping his grip. "Not how I pictured this at all…" he muttered.

Regan winced inwardly at his own behavior. "Sorry…it's just…" he dared a glance up, then his eyes flitted away again. "It seems too good to be true," he said softly.

"Ah…don't know about that…but I'm not joking. Totally out of my league," a weak smile, "But not joking."

Failing miserably to smile back, Regan settled for simply looking hopeful. "I swear to god if you're messing with me I'll throw you out the window and laugh while you fall."

"I swear it - who knew you'd be this skeptical? What would it take to convince you?"

Regan stilled, and slowly looked up. His eyes brightened, taking on a gleam that Chris was all too familiar with.

"Uh-oh. I know that look. You're up to someth--" Chris' eyes went wide as he realized Regan was kissing him and attempted to pull away in panic - until two arms locked around his neck and kept him firmly in place. Hesitantly he began to return it, softly at first but more firmly as it continued. His arms, trembling only slightly, lifted to latch onto Regan's shirt.

Still shaky himself, Regan pulled away.

Chris didn't let him pull back too far, "Convinced now?"

Blinking furiously again Regan surged forward, arms in a near death-lock around Chris' neck, face buried against his chest. "You'd better mean it. Because there's no way I'm letting you go now."

"Good…" Chris replied with a wobbly laugh, "Because I kinda want to stay."

Regan managed a smile, eyes still tear-bright with relief and joy. There's no damn way this is real. Maybe I should make sure again. He raised his head slowly, to give Chris plenty of warning - and chance to pull away. Instead the other man met him half way, kissing him with rapidly growing confidence. Giddy with disbelief, Regan pulled him as close as possible and kissed him with all fervor.

A knock on the door interrupted them and Regan glared resentfully as his mother slowly opened it. His glared darkened at the too-complacent look on her face, the look he knew meant "told you so." Reluctantly he let go of Chris, secretly thrilled at how equally reluctant Chris was to do the same. "Would you boys like a snack? Have you finished talking?"

"Oh, quit acting smug. You had no idea what would happen."

His mother's brows went up, "Of course I didn't. Did I say anything? I just asked if you were finished talking. Come, there is blackberry pie to be eaten."

Shaking his head and smiling shyly at Chris, he led the way to the kitchen where his mom had already prepared two places. He frowned at the lack of a third and ducked his head out of the kitchen - only to find his mother had already gone. I guess back to her room…huh, it's not like her to wait to get all the details. Oh, well.

Chris was already focused on the pie and they passed the next few minutes in silence. At last shoving his plate away, Chris looked at Regan in question, "So does this mean you'll let me tutor you now?"

"Hell no," Regan finished the last bite of his own pie. "Not before and definitely not now."

"Why the hell not?"

Regan laughed, "Because now that we're…together…are we?"

"Together?" Chris frowned, "…Yeah, I'd say so. Unless you don't want…?"

"Of course I do…I was just making sure."

"So what's the problem?"

Regan rolled his eyes, "Do you honestly think that now that we're together," he smiled as he said it, "I'll get anything math-related accomplished if I'm alone in a study session with you?"

"Ah…" Chris' face went scarlet as he absorbed that. After a moment he mustered a glare, "You're not weaseling out of improving your math skills that easily. No playtime until after tutoring sessions."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Funny, Reg. Very funny. But if you'll recall, you only started winning when you got help. One on one - you're all mine."

"Well yes, but that's beside the point."

Chris stopped a moment, then smiled. "I didn't expect tonight to actually go this well…"

"Neither did I. I thought you'd just tell me why it was all my fault you got kicked out and then leave."

"Just an excuse to talk to you. You have no idea how hard it was to come here. About twenty times I nearly chickened out and ran for home."

Regan smiled as he got up to clear the table, "That's all right, I almost considered not being here when you arrived." As he passed by he reached out to ruffle Chris' perpetually neat hair, laughing at his protests and unresisting when the blonde latched onto his arm and dragged him back.

"Don't mess with the hair. And I'm serious about the tutoring - it's no laughing matter. I bet if I spoke to your mom--"

Regan cut him off with a quick, shy kiss. "Don't bring the dragon into it. And fine - okay. Tutoring. Here? Then the dragon can help you make me behave."

"How about I help you with math Monday through Thursday, and on Fridays you can come to my place and teach me a few things. Since I probably have a lot to learn," Chris smiled nervously, grip tightening on Regan's arm.

Willing his heart to stop trying to jump out of his chest, Regan bobbed a nervous, eager nod. "Yeah - that'd work fine," he twined his arms around Chris' neck and held on tight as fingers tangled in Regan's hair and pulled him down for another kiss.