A rustle of pages; he took her stare as an answer; trying not to let those unblinking green eyes unnerve him, he cleared his throat. "Mia—would you—like to go out with me?"


"...Is that a yes?"



"No." Her mouth hardly moved.

Dislodged from any niche of comfort he had been clinging to, Edward frowned. This was the umpteenth time he had asked, and he had the vaguest feeling that the answer would never change. That, he thought to himself, is too depressing. He shook his head, realizing that he was demeaning himself.

"Pleeeeaase?" he pressed.


No! he thought in reply. No! Today, I'll do it! I'll do it! I'll succeed!

This was not the first time he thought such a thing, and all those other times, he had failed. Horribly. Still, he was persistent, as well as obsessed with this girl—his brother called it unhealthy and his friend would sigh—so he would not stop at this point. Edward opened his mouth again, to plead, at the same time dropping to his knees; "Ple—"

"CANDAYYY!" Edward only had enough time to whip around, eyes wide, to see his friend Jet melt—almost literally!—out of his crush Candy's embrace; little an India rubber ball, he hit the floor, then sprang forth, and all eyes in the library were suddenly glued to the spectacle as he twirled—like a ballerina, Edward thought—this way and that, narrowly missing a rack of Anne Rice (the principal screamed from the doorway) and careening into Edward himself.

There was a loud oomphing sound as Edward was knocked over, his mouth opening and closing like that of a fish; before he could even form an understandable word, Jet lifted himself with a gasp and a gurgle, then landed on Mia.

It was a complete and utter accident; he was too ecstatic—

Edward looked up.

Edward screamed.

Jet screamed too, though he was too busy gaping in shock to undo anything. And it was muffled, because his mouth was currently glued to Mia's.

The library exploded, too, and Edward blew up with it; and Mia, she was staring with her glass-green eyes so wide, and they rolled back to reveal her the egg white of her eyes as she fainted with a thump.


The next day, no one spoke to him.

Edward observed Jet through heavily-lidded eyes, coolly ignoring everything he said; as far as he knew, he did not know him.

"—And that's why I was in the library in the first place, though I really don't want Mia and—Ed? Ed? Are you listening? Because Brandon wouldn't tell me anything, 'cause I'm actually—God, I'm sorry, Ed, but—no one's speaking with me today!"

Edward turned away, humming a song he could not name; whistling was too cliché; it could not mask the dark thoughts in his adolescent mind. What did one think when they saw their friend accidentally kissing their crush, anyway?

Jet would get his due soon enough.

"Ed? Y'know I'm sorry, right?"

Edward got up for a trip to the bathroom, hoping to make it before the bell rang for class; his heart was pounding in anticipation, noting the red flash of eyes within the nook of a water fountain; really, even for an albino, Abigail was exceptional in melding with the dark. He heard the shift, and twitched slightly in fear.

The scream came as he left the bathroom, and he smiled. Jet's scream was so very recognizable. His face was recognizable too, when Edward returned; Abigail had left by then, and Mia stared forward blankly in her seat, but Edward was pale with some untold trauma; the class was laughing uproariously.

"So, Jet," Edward stated, sliding back into his seat, "you were saying?"

Jet turned, his green eyes glittering. "Y—You knew that she would—fuck you!" he hissed.

"I like meaples," Edward replied simply; his face broke apart and came together again as a grin. "So, how are you?"

"FUCK YOU!" Jet howled, but he was grinning too.

Edward's eyes widened, though his smirk remained in place; by the time he pointed, he knew that all had been forgiven, and that laughs were expelled at their expense; behind Jet was their white-faced teacher, frozen in the doorway.

"S-So!" he said, as Jet whirled around. "Now that it's safe to talk to you, y'wanna go to detention first, or should I?"

"You son of a bitch," Jet replied, snickering. "Does this mean I'm forgiven?"