Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ I Got Game! ❯ Know Your Enemy ( Chapter 23 )

Alternate Universe, Sci-Fi? Sporty, Some Events Based On Authoress's own experiences....(wee! Basketball!)

Standard Disclaimers Apply: Don't own Gundam Wing, but I own every original character that emerges...Don't own the songs listed with the chapters, either...

Pairings: 4x3/3x4, 1+2, 5xM & various others...

>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<= means scene change

A/N: Wah-ha-ha-ha-ha!! :ahem: Any who, another tantalizing twist has left this story moving in another direction! Whew! I love being god...Who loves 'Rage Against the Machine?! And Pantera?! Woo! I DOOOO!!!! I just had to say that. I finally re-bought the CD's, and it's like my third time buying them. I totally suck taking care of things-er. That pertain to material possession, of course.

Chapter Twenty-Three~

"Know Your Enemy" = Rage Against The Machine

Earlier that day, after school, Trowa had made his way toward the dormitory, sure that he would talk with Quatre and get this silent treatment business over with. He had a lot of time to think things out, and he was gearing toward slowing things down a little. Despite the fact that he loved the blond, and he certainly loved the sex, he knew that there were some things in the relationship that needed more attention. And he felt that he and Quatre had to sit down and talk. Really sit down and talk. He had never been in such a relationship before- actually, it was his first real serious one. The one with Ralph he wasn't going to count because he'd done nothing in that relationship that was even remotely comparable to this one. This one was filled to the brim with drama and excitement and real emotions, and it was a teeter-totter of confusion and chaos. And while he loved it, he had to admit that it was rather trying at times. Sure, there were things that he could not control, but he had to do something with Quatre and his attitude.

It was breaking them apart, and there was so many times when Trowa brought this up and Quatre would promise to work on it, but it was as if the notion were completely foreign to him. Either that, or he was too stubborn to change.

"Ragh," he muttered as he opened up the doors to the dorms and walked in. It was so frustrating how that big 'A' crept into the relationship like some stolen lover. It clutched Quatre's head and possessed him using marionette strings, and that had to be dealt with in a serious manner. Otherwise, despite how the relationship was going, Trowa knew he would tire of it someday. And while he really didn't want to, that was life. Sometimes, too much drama was just...too much. He loved the excitement, but...

He walked up the flight of stairs to Quatre's room, but he wasn't there. Trowa even inputted the security code to enter, and saw that he was gone. His school things were thrown in familiar form around the room, so Trowa took the time to pick up his blazer, hang it up, and clean things up a bit. He muttered all the way, wondering why it just came natural to pick up after the blond. Which, he realized as he set his discarded tie on the back of the chair, was what he had been doing for awhile.

Seeing that a pair of shoes were missing, as well as a basketball, he figured he was in the gym, and so Trowa decided to change out of his uniform first, then maybe get a snack before walking over. He was starving. He was missing Lana's cooking, especially those greasy, golden flat frybread that he'd once complained made him fat just by looking at it. He walked back down the stairs to his room, seeing that Duo was on his bed, doing his homework. He didn't bother with a conversation with the dude, just changed quickly and left.

Duo had said nothing, and Trowa preferred that. They just didn't click.

He walked all the way down to the first level and bought a Snickers bar, eating that with a ravenous snarl that made several kids leap away from him in fright. Walking toward the gym, he figured he'd find his beloved there, they could have it out in the privacy of the gym, and get along better by tonight. He looked forward to that. While he was on that track, the possibility of sex was alluring as well. But then again, glancing around at the students that milled about despite the cold day, he felt a little hesitant. In Laramie, during their act, Quatre got pretty loud despite trying to keep quiet. While it certainly was a hot image, loaded with enough capacity to give him a slight boner, the thought of others hearing what they did was a little embarrassing. Trowa wouldn't be able to stand the looks that he knew were directed in his direction because they'd heard Quatre's sex noises. But then again, he was quite the hypocrite-what was so embarrassing about the real thing when he'd spread rumors about them earlier on?

He walked into the gym, shaking his head as he threw his wrapper away. Really, he was being ridiculous, and he blamed it on the lack of good sleep. He walked up to the second level, to the gym, and froze in mid-step in the doorway. Quatre and Felicia were engaged in a fierce battle over the ball, and she hadn't even bothered to change out of that mini-skirt of hers. Trowa couldn't think of her in any other way, but at that moment, engaged in physical shuffle with his blond as he tried to make a basket, it was simply, for the lack of a better word, scandalous.

He knew Felicia wasn't interested in Quatre in the slightest-the thought of even thinking about the boy in that way made her violently ill. But it was just-! It was just the fact that they were so comfortable with each other, so comfortable to push and shove and get entirely physical on the court that made Trowa himself sick. He watched quietly as Quatre made a basket, and Felicia taunted him as she retrieved the ball. Then, crowding her so closely like he did to his opponents on the court, Quatre tried to prevent her from making it down to her end of the court, getting entirely physical with her. Their bodies pushed and shoved against each other in a display of casual contact due to the roughness of the game, but to Trowa, it was like they were getting it on over the court.

The sight was disturbing. While on some level, Trowa knew nothing hanky-panky was going on, it just sent a jolt of insecurity down his spine because his last boyfriend had left him for a girl. He glared at Felicia with a hard stare, hating the way she used her body to push against Quatre's, the way she taunted and teased him by keeping the ball from his reach, by acting so totally un-sexual that it was, at the same time, sickeningly sexual. It was as if his mind were replacing the images with a hot couple that were all over each other, complete with ice cubes and bad script lines for a porn video.

Trowa tried to tell himself that Felicia was a guy-a guy in girls' clothing. A guy that punched, kicked, spit, cursed and acted like a guy should. But then again, if one looked closer, they would see the pretty features, the feminine way her hips swayed, the girly gesture she used to push her hair out of her face and the way, at times, she looked vulnerable and defenseless. It was totally made even worse that that was exactly how Chris was the first time he'd seen her-despite her military training, her rigid posturing, lack of makeup and such, she was a woman. A woman that displayed her femininity with such gestures and small features that made them so delicate and endearing to one that was automatically drawn to them to protect them and care for them.

Trowa's teeth made an odd grating sound as Quatre shoved his knee between her knees, pushing her from behind to the floor in order to get the ball. And she reacted by kicking her leg back and knocking him to the floor. From there, they bodily wrestled and pushed to crawl after the ball in order to keep it in their possession. Trowa had enough. They may not be doing anything sexual or were even interested in each other like that, but the sight of it and the fact that this had happened to Trowa before made him entirely furious and hurt.

He left the gym, hearing their warring shouts as they argued over a shot. Stomping toward the dormitory, he muttered, "'Help me', my ass."

He had just about reached the doorway when he heard his name called in a cheerful chirp. He winced, cringed and debated on running far, far away without stopping. But something made him stay, grunting with the effort, and he turned from the door and looked at Middie as she ran up to him, smiling cheerfully. Her blond hair was pulled into a ponytail, and she was wearing a pair of violet track pants and velvet jacket, looking entirely casual save for the Hello Kitty bowtie-barrette that kept loose strands of hair from her face. The first thing she did was pounce on him, hugging him tightly with an ear-shattering squeal of joy. Trowa pushed her off, utterly annoyed at the entire female 'race'.

"I've missed you!" she exclaimed, pushing her escaping hair from her face. Trowa gritted his teeth. Why did females do that?! That totally graceful flick of their wrists, the slide of their fingers as they pulled their offending strands from their eyes, making the casual move look entirely enticing? "Did you have a good Christmas?! Oh my god, you look so good! I think you grew a couple of inches!"

Trowa stared down at her in disgust. Yes, he'd noticed that he looked a little taller-but maybe that was just his shoes...his clothes still fit the same, except the hems weren't dragging anymore. Middie smiled cheerfully, hands behind her, looking entirely innocent.

"I was just going out to dinner...do you want to come?" she asked, blinking up at him.

Trowa opened his mouth to let her know what he thought she could do with that suggestion, but his eyes moved up from her and over to the gym. Where they were playing. And something evil came to mind-if Quatre could do it, then why can't he? He pulled away from the door with a mumble, Middie grinning madly that she'd managed a successful mission. She clapped in an elated manner, then reached out to hold onto his arm, giggling with pure happiness. Trowa tried to pull his arm away, but she had the grip of a pitbull locked on its prey. No amount of struggling could loosen its grip. He sighed and tried to tell himself that this was a good thing. It wasn't as if he were kissing her, or anything.

>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<

"...I didn't mean to, really," Middie finished her story on a bright laugh, tossing her hair over her shoulder. She had let it down during their dinner, and the blond waves shimmered underneath the dim cafeteria lights. "It was supposed to be a joke! I thought it had been really funny at the time, but now that I think about it, it was probably the worst day of her life. I felt so bad about it...I went and bought her some chocolate from this really expensive place downtown..."

Yeah, and probably stuffed it with laxatives, Trowa thought to himself, staring off into the distance as Middie plowed through her meal as if it were her very last. He, on the other hand, scraped his fork against his plate and wondered what interest had briefly held him when he decided on spaghetti with a side of well done steak. He wondered what those other two were doing, if they were still going at it on the court.

Traitor, he thought with a black expression, thinking of Felicia.

"So, what was the very worst thing you've ever done, Trowa?" Middie asked, looking up from buttering her roll. Her eyebrows rose, and her long lashes blinked in question. Trowa wasn't sure, but it looked like she had a very small blackhead just underneath her left nostril. Closer inspection would suffice, but he didn't want to get that close. Still, the thought of an un-popped pimple drew him like a moth to the light. The need to reach over and squash that sucker made his fingertips itch. "Mmm, I love carbs! They're so great! I always feel so happy after I had a bagel or whatever. I don't see why some people would go without it. They're just nuts, huh? I'm sorry, I just keep rambling, don't I? I always get really nervous around you...you're so very handsome, and all. I'm sorry! Did I embarrass you?"

Kill me now, Trowa thought, lowering his head.

"Don't worry about it, Trowa. So, how was your Christmas break? I had a lot of fun. My parents and I went to Las Vegas. I got a few pictures with Elvis! I didn't get very many presents, but that's all right. Christmas isn't about presents-it's about who you're with, right? I heard you and your boyfriend went to his hometown...Trowa, where do you live? Duo told me that you came from Europe, but he wasn't exactly sure where. What was Hickville like? Ugh, I can't stand his accent. Seriously, Trowa, are you happy with him? Whenever I look at you two, you're just like, God, get me away from here!"

God, get me away from here...

"Seriously, Trowa. I watch you two. You don't have very promising body language. It looks like he's trying to escape you, and you're just like, hurt because of it." Middie shrugged, finishing off her roll and taking a breath. Trowa stared at her, wondering how in hell she was even human. He knew no one that talked like that unless they were high on something. He wondered what drugs she used and if he could buy some from her. He'd been clean for almost a month, and due to the amounting stress of his relationship, he found himself craving a downer now and then.

"I don't know. I don't think you two are very happy. He's just...he's just not your type, I think. He's really demanding, always wanting attention. Duo told me that he's a real prick. Always yelling, getting mean on people-he doesn't like girls! He's all, like, prejudiced against him. What's that called, anyway? Miso-myso- misogynic? Er.. Come on, Trowa, do you know what I'm saying? Yeah, you do. So, I hear he hates girls. Trowa? Are you going to eat that?"

Trowa stared in silence as she reached over, plucking his uneaten steak from his plate and putting it on hers. She grinned cutely at him as she began cutting it up. She reminded him of Reese Witherspoon. He was starting to really like and hate that actress at the same time. He stared at her finished plate, then at her frame. Where does it go? He wondered.

"Sally really hates him. She's always drawing these silly cartoons with him dying in various ways. I went to one of their practices, once, and he's so fucking controlling. Always screaming, 'Go here! No, there! C'mon!!' I don't like him, Trowa. You're too nice. Why are you with him? Does he beat you up? I heard that he does. You don't need that, Trowa. Really, you don't. Ooh, I really like your name. Hey, how about we go into town to catch a movie, Friday? I really, really want to see that new sci-fi flick that's coming out. It's supposed to deal with, like, how the Earth was supposed to be a breeding plant for some aliens, and-wow, I met my first alien, today. I was like, Wow! Only that I knew him and I didn't know he was an alien!! Isn't that funny?!"

As Middie laughed, Trowa stared at his fork and wondered how fast he would die if he shoved that sucker through his aorta. But then again, he would have to dig very deep just to get to it, so he wondered if the effort was worth it. He was trying to remember why he'd gone with her suggestion in the first place, but, damn it, her voice was distracting. Despite her long winded rambling, she really had a nice voice. Soft, tilting, ready to laugh at any moment. He looked at her, seeing her cheerful smile, the way she blushed when he looked at her, the way she cutely cringed upon re-telling some fantastic memory of hers and the way she sat with her legs crossed.

Middie was really pretty, and if she shut up enough, she would be fun to hang out with. She was happy, entirely optimistic, and she had a mean streak in her that was sort of attractive. She was one of those psychotic Mary Sues that he'd read about, the kind that was so earthy and carefree that people were genuinely astonished to find out that she'd murdered thirteen people and ate their liver with her chicken caesar salad. She was an intriguing mix, and Trowa found himself unwillingly attracted to her. Even though, her rambling did want to make him want to do himself in.

It was because of that naked quality of hers that kept him at the table, listening with half an ear because the other one had blown out awhile ago when she'd greeted him. Her teeth were faintly yellow behind her slick lips, and when she laughed hard, she snorted. It was endearing. Frankly, she more than made up for that manly-bitch in the gym with Quatre. At least, if he was cheating, he was cheating on a girl that knew she was a girl, rather than cheating with a girl that denied she was a girl. Or something like that. He was really re-thinking his stand with Felicia, despite their past together. It just made him angry that she would do this, thinking she was helping out with their problems. She was a girl, damn it! And when she looked the part, everyone took notice! Trowa knew that Quatre looked at her differently when she wasn't so damn mannish-he saw the interested flicker in those blue/green eyes, the way the blond would stare longer than usual at her when she talked. Okay, so maybe Quatre didn't do that-but Trowa was sure he had when his back was turned.

"So, really, Trowa, what do you think of me?" she paused long enough to flick her hair over her shoulder. With that movement, he smelled...orange blossoms. He tried to guess her shampoo, and shrugged. Not like he cared, but the scent bothered him because he couldn't identify it. Which reminded him, he still couldn't place that one scent in Quatre's room, and thinking about it now, he wrinkled his nose and tried to guess, tuning her out.

"Trowa! Come on. Just tell me. I'm tough. I can take it." Middie saw that he was staring into the distance, auburn fall of hair hiding one side of his face, but she saw that the green orbs were definitely not focused on her and the 'conversation'. So she uncrossed her legs and used her foot to rub against his inner thigh. That certainly snapped him out of his dreamer's daze and he quickly moved out of her reach. She grinned as he stared at her with a glare.

"Eh."

"Oh, you! You're so silly! So? Do you want to go out, Friday? Or are you going to stay and watch your boyfriend play? You're so committed, Trowa. That's a good quality in a guy. Most of them would run screaming in the other direction if they realized that a gal wanted a commitment. Gosh, it's not like we want to marry them here and now," she added, wrinkling her nose. "I just want somebody that's like, not wanting to get with other girls as soon as they figure out me. You know? I think you and me should try it out. You know, maybe on the side? You like girls, right? I mean, you haven't been with one, have you? Duo said that you liked this one girl, but she moved. Trowa? Do you?"

Trowa rolled his eyes and wondered if those two were done playing yet. Seeing that he was finished with his meal, he rose from the table. Middie quickly gathered her things and rose as well, grabbing his tray before he could even move to touch it. "I'll get it. I need to stop at the bathroom, first. Do you mind? Do you want to go back to the dorms, after that? I need to do my homework. Let's go, okay? Wait for me!"

Trowa sighed, shoulders slouching as Middie ran quickly toward the girls' bathroom just down the hall. As he did so, though, he noticed a small table of guys, obviously freshmen, glaring daggers at him. He blinked as their venomous stares seemed to pierce through every one of his pores. Then he realized that these guys were some of the many 'fans' that Quatre had, and they were watching every move he made with Middie-which wasn't any. She was making them. He endured their glares and harsh whispers about him being a cheater while he waited for Middie to do her damn business and go. When she emerged nearly five minutes later from the restroom, drying her hands on her jeans, she pranced over, blond hair swinging in a merry side to side movement.

He noticed that her eyes were slightly red and puffy, and that she had the sniffles, despite not having them before. He furrowed his brow, wondering if she was drugging and if she had some to share. She then reached out to clutch his hand. He pulled away quickly, stuffing both hands into his pants pockets and walking out from the cafeteria, feeling those eyes stare after him.

He rolled his own. Like their opinions really mattered, anyway. Middie giggled and muttered something underneath her breath as she kept up beside him, blond hair flouncing with every step. She withdrew a stick of gum from her pocket and popped one into her mouth, offering him a stick as well. He refused, glancing at her from the corner of his eye, half-liking the way her lips curved with her smile. Frankly, he wondered what they would feel like during a blowjob. Which reminded him, he was really looking forward toward the 'making up' part of his and Quatre's relationship...

As they reached the building, Middie gave a wicked giggle, making every hair on his neck rise straight up. Something about that giggle, the way it was given made him extremely wary. He turned to look at her, to see what she was giggling about, and was startled when she jumped onto him, legs wrapping around his waist and arms around his neck. He was so startled at the sudden move, stumbling backwards against the wall next to the doors, that he grabbed her in shock. Her lips were pressing against his, and he was so stunned that he was being bodily assaulted in such a way that his own mouth fell open to yell at her. She tasted sweet-or maybe it was her lipstick or gum. Whichever, her tongue was warm and inviting, swirling against his, her throat purring with content.

It felt good. It was different from Quatre's-gone was the stale breath and the quiet boldness that was customary with the blond. Now was the sweetness of Middie's breath and gentle tongue, her scent enveloping him, her legs squeezing him. He couldn't help but move his lips in reaction to hers, holding her steady lest they topple over due to her sudden move. Then he remembered that he should not be sampling, and quickly shoved her off of him. She looked disappointed, frowning up at him as she made a shy tilt of her head, and Trowa opened his mouth to address her angrily about doing stuff like that, growing angry at his own lack of control.

Movement caught his eye, and he looked up to go entirely pale at the sight of Felicia and Quatre staring at them, both of them looking furious. Middie saw that he wasn't looking at her and turned around.

"Oh, hi!" she greeted, walking over. Trowa couldn't move, wondering frantically if Quatre had seen him weaken under the quick attack. "Wow, you're a girl! Gee, I wouldn't have known, I mean, you're always wearing pants, and all. Wow, what are you? You would be really pretty if you didn't have your hair like that. Oh, what's your name? I don't believe we met before..."

Quatre shifted his infuriated eyes from Trowa to stare at Middie, who was grinning at him as she held her hand out. Staring at her, wondering if this girl was really doing this, he briefly lost his train of thought. He was so entirely hurt that Trowa was kissing her that he couldn't exactly focus on rearranging his thoughts. His stomach clenched on a sickening churn, and he felt entirely betrayed. He'd seen Trowa kissing her back-he'd thought that the goth had been assaulted and had tried to fight back, but he'd seen the subtle press of his lips against the girl's. And the fact that Trowa had done so made Quatre want to cry. Not react with violence, but actually curl up and cry.

At that thought, he grew furious. His father had accused him of being a sissy-boy, and here he was, wanting to cry because he'd caught Trowa kissing a girl. Felicia moved quick, distracting him from his thoughts, and slapped that hand from Quatre's sight, moving in front of him to face Middie.

"You fucking bitch!" she snarled, getting right into the blond girl's face. Middie stood a few inches taller than her, but that wasn't an issue with Felicia. In a way, Quatre was grateful for her presence-because if he'd been alone and was facing this by himself, he would have reacted in a regretful manner. Felicia's anger was his lifeline-it burned like his betrayed anger, but it was more fair because she was the same sex as Middie. Which made it fair because while Quatre tended to not like very many girls, he would never hit one. Felicia didn't count, of course.

Middie frowned at her, lifting her nose and looking as proud as she could. She squared her shoulders, stared down her nose and used her height over Felicia. "That sort of language isn't appropriate. I would kindly ask that you not address me in such a manner. You don't even know me!"

"Fuck you, white girl! You fucking dick!" Felicia then yelled at Trowa, shoving Middie aside to march up to him, ready to sock in his stupid face. Middie squealed in surprise as she barely caught her footing, having to place her hands on the sidewalk to keep from face planting. When she rose, Quatre numbly noted that her fists were clenched, and she looked ready to jump at Felicia in retaliation.

"What the fuck was with that bullshit?!" Felicia shouted at Trowa, getting close to him.

"I-I-!" Trowa tried to speak, but found himself unable to as he looked away from Felicia, to Quatre. He saw Quatre swallow hard, then turn and hurry off, moving away from the building. He then knew that Quatre had caught him kissing Middie right back. The feeling was absolutely devastating-Trowa knew what he felt like, and felt incredibly terrible that he'd participated in something that he'd found so detestable last year. Felicia started to move after him, but Middie made a snorting sound, shaking her head and catching her furious attention.

"What a baby," she muttered as she stared after Quatre's retreating form. "Can't even handle a little friendly competition...He must not really like you, Trowa. He's not even bothering to fight for you. What does that say?"

Felicia pushed her so hard that Middie stumbled over her feet and fell on her ass on the sidewalk with a loud yelp. The action brought a lot of attention from various students milling about, and Trowa ripped his horrified eyes from Quatre's moving form to see Middie quickly climb back to her feet and leap at Felicia with a loud snarl. Immediately, students began crowing and screaming in excitement upon witnessing a girl fight. Trowa was torn between wanting to rescue Middie from impending doom or running after Quatre to try and explain what had really happened.

But then, as he moved toward Quatre's direction, a crack of flesh upon flesh caught his attention, and he whirled to see that Middie had landed a very good hit against Felicia's face, startling the manly girl. Felicia straightened, reached out to grab Middie's hair, and pulled her down onto the sidewalk, leaping onto her back and straddling her. Middie was forced onto the sidewalk with a furious scream that was forcefully interrupted by Felicia slamming her face into the concrete. Trowa immediately moved over, curling an arm under her stomach and forcefully throwing her off of Middie. The crowd roared as Middie looked up, a bloody scrape against her forehead dominating her features. Later on, it would look truly hideous because the skin had broken and it was immediately swelling into a knot. Felicia had cracked her head, hard.

With a psychotic scream, Middie pushed off from the sidewalk and leapt at Felicia, who'd rolled onto her back and used her legs to thrust Middie's flying form over her person. Middie landed with a very loud grunt on the sidewalk, and Felicia was up and on her once more, punching her repeatedly across the face while Middie reached up and yanked handfuls of her hair.

Security was immediately shifting through the crowd of students to break up the fight, so Trowa used the distraction to run after Quatre. He'd lost the blond when he'd tried his hand in separating the two, so he had to make a quick choice-the main school, or the gym. He wanted to go toward the gym, but the outside lights that flickered softly told him that it was locked tight. So that left the main school building. He ran toward it, feeling utterly wicked that he'd done what he'd done.

He tried to justify what had happened by comparing it to what Quatre had been doing with Felicia on the court, but the thing wasn't even the same. He knew they were just playing ball-he'd kissed Middie. That made things much different.

>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<

Quatre walked into the cafeteria, trying to keep himself composed. Instead, he came off looking entirely devastated, but he quickly shifted that devastation to anger upon seeing that there were people still lingering in the cafeteria. He glared at everyone in his path and snarled his order to the terrified kitchen lady behind the counter. After he'd paid for his food, he found an empty table in the back of the cafeteria, and kept his back to everyone that was there as he forced himself to eat. His hand was shaking as he brought dry steamed rice to his mouth, and he kept biting his tongue when he tried to chew.

Think, think, think of other things, he told himself, finding it incredibly hard to do so. He just felt devastated that Trowa kissed Middie. Middie, who was obviously much better looking than him, who was a girl, and who deserved that right to be with a man. He felt himself shaking violently, trying to cram more rice into his mouth. Middie had that right to be with a man. He didn't. His father had made that clear before with that situation with Jamie, and this most recent one back home. Despite the fact that he'd accepted who he was, and despite the fact that he had accepted that he had to change in order to fix his and Trowa's relationship, this thing with Middie had torn his carefully built foundation apart.

Maybe it didn't have anything to do with that fact, but...but upon seeing Trowa with Middie, the sight was actually...very fitting. Fitting because while he was with Trowa and could be himself with Trowa, he just could not see them together the way a couple would view themselves from the outside. Upset, devastated and completely re-questioning himself, Quatre wasn't aware that Trowa was sliding into the chair opposite him until Trowa spoke his name on a soft inquiry.

Upon that instant, Quatre's temper exploded. He shot from his chair and threw his tray full of food at Trowa. Without a word and without acknowledging the interested stares of those that peered in their direction, Quatre left the cafeteria. He saw the large crowd of students that were laughing over the fight from previous, and he hurried away from the main school building to the dorms, more interested in getting away from the goth than trying to figure out what had happened. He pushed through the milling students and security personnel and made his way inside. Middie was bawling a storm while her forehead was tended to, and Felicia looked plain bored as she was being lectured by Lowell as he wrote out a detention slip. When she saw Quatre, she perked and moved in his direction, but he quickly ran up the stairway to get away from everybody.

He reached his room, slammed the door, and kicked his shoes off. With slow movements, he undressed from his work-out clothing and slid into some pajamas. Then, without much regard to the homework he needed completed by tomorrow, he slunk into his bed and pulled the blankets over his head. He tried not to dwell on the incident outside, but all the stress and accumulation of exhaustion brought him down. He allowed the tears to fall, but didn't make any move to remove them or bother with them. Swallowing hard, he tried to erase the image of Trowa and Middie from his mind.

>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<

The next morning, he forced himself to move at the sound of his alarm, and tried re-thinking his situation. Maybe it was okay. Maybe it was supposed to be. After all, everyone kept telling him that he was treating Trowa like shit. Maybe it was justified this way. Trowa had admitted to feeling neglected and such, so this thing with Middie should be, like, payback. Upon figuring that, Quatre accepted that with barely a flicker of expression, and got ready for the day. After that was done, he grabbed his things and went downstairs, unsure if he wanted to approach the goth or continue to ignore him. Things had to be corrected in order to make things worked, and he wondered if that was what Felicia was trying to say. Well, actually, he got what she was trying to prove to him without bringing it up word-wise. That one on one showed him that he couldn't do things entirely on his own. He had to ask for help.

Is that all Trowa wanted me to do?! He thought with a frown, moving with the other students as they made a long line to the main school building. Is learn to ask for help?!

It was in that situation that made him really pause and reflect on himself, and in a way, he was entirely grateful for the distraction of Middie and Trowa. Because this might give him more time to think on things, rather than continue to carry on without resolve with their relationship. Even though, it still hurt plenty that Trowa had done it. What made him do it, anyway?! He knew Trowa didn't like preps, and Middie was one through and through. Yet...Trowa didn't make any obvious effort to get away from her. As viewed at the pep rally, and at the game....last night when he was holding her close, kissing her...

Steadily growing furious and completely losing his train of thought about serious issues regarding himself, Quatre found himself focused on Trowa's 'infidelity' than on previous thoughts. He made his way into the school, glaring at everyone in his path. He made it to his first class, which was Chemistry. Trowa had it last semester, so looking around, he saw that he was actually with Wufei, Meiran and Hiiro. Hiiro didn't bother acknowledging him, as he always did off the court, so Quatre left his seat to go talk to Wufei and Meiran, because he hadn't talked to them in a long while. Maybe by doing so, he could get his mind off more pressing matters and concentrate on this.

Wufei looked over his glasses at him, his black, slanted eyes taking in his furious expression. With a slow nod, he smiled fleetingly. The Chinese reminded Quatre of a wise old man-always so stiff, so impeccably quiet as he chose to observe rather than participate. And from observing, Wufei seemed to know a lot. He was interesting to talk to, but due to his serious ways, Quatre found himself unable to keep a good conversation with him, so he hung out with him for casual passing of time. "I see."

Quatre grunted, shrugging his shoulders. "How was your Christmas?"

"We don't celebrate Christmas," Meiran told him curtly, rummaging through her small clutch purse.

"Oh. Then what did you two do over break?"

Wufei adjusted himself in his seat, glancing at his wife as she fiddled with her computer, muttering in Mandarin about nosy, brainless jocks. He faced Quatre, crossing his arms over his chest. "Nothing much. Just the usual. Did you pass last semester?"

"Eh. I suppose I did."

"How'd you do for your final in Strings?"

"I haven't touched a violin in so long!" Quatre said on a strong chuckle. "I think I failed. The guy looked really pissed off that I mauled the piece we'd been working on for ages. How about you guys? Yeah, of course you passed. You guys are, like, musical geniuses..."

"Are you assuming this?" Meiran asked, raising her eyebrows in his direction. He wasn't sure if she were questioning him in a threatening way, or casually. He looked at Wufei, who didn't both to indicate her seriousness.

"Er...I don't...no? You two are really good, though," Quatre muttered, self-consciously rubbing his forearm. "I mean, I don't mean any offense, or anything, I just...listening to the both of you in class, you're really good."

"We practice at least two hours a day," Meiran continued in her brisk way. "Depending on our studies."

"Geez. I can't imagine putting that much time on the violin," Quatre said, trying hard to do so.

"You wouldn't."

Quatre couldn't help but be confused if Meiran was just insulting him, or that was her way of speaking. Wufei sighed, shifting in his seat. "As such, what classes do you have this semester?" he asked companionably. Quatre pulled out his class schedule, frowning as he read over his classes.

"Chemistry, College Basic Math, French 101, Economics 201, Wood Shop, Government and Fundamentals, Art Comprehension, PE, English Honors II," he read. Then he wrinkled his brow. "Oh, I had French 101, Government, College Basic Math, Economics 201, and Art Comprehension yesterday...I really wasn't paying any attention. Huh."

Meiran rolled her eyes. "How could you be in those classes? I saw your grades. You're barely hanging on by a low 'D' average."

Quatre shrugged, folding his schedule and putting it away in his back pocket. "I don't know. I know what's going on, I just don't do the homework."

"All you people are like that. This school treasures its athletes. You will all graduate because you win the school trophies, and not because of the use of your brain, because you simply don't use it..."

"Meiran," Wufei warned, recognizing the rising anger in her voice, knowing she was gearing up for a debate. And he knew Quatre well enough to know that the blond wouldn't back down. His wife was equally as stubborn, hot-headed, and he knew a storm was slowly approaching between them. That's why he tried to keep them separated-Meiran loved to drag down the athlete, and the athlete constantly challenged her studious ways. In the resulting end, Wufei always found himself in the middle, trying to separate them both.

Quatre frowned, leaning back in his seat. He gave her a good stare. "You really think that's why I'm passing? Because of the fact that I play ball?"

"Yes," Meiran said, looking at him, her expression challenging him.

"Is that so? Are you implying that I'm dumb?"

"I don't have to imply anything. I'll flat out tell you you're stupid. If not for those points you make for the team, you wouldn't be here in this class," Meiran said over Wufei's low growl.

Quatre narrowed his eyes. "Well, if that's so, then what the fuck are you doing here in America? People like you are hated and disregarded because of your attitude. No one likes someone with a pole shoved up their asshole, acting as stiff as you do. You think you're all good because you have some stupid grade point average that's not even going to bring you anything in the future. It's not going to win you friends or a good life. You'll go to college, stress yourself out over having the highest points, then get a stupid job that you hate-"

"You have no right to talk to me that way!"

"-then you'll be looking back, wondering why you made yourself into some-"

"You stupid jock! Stupid, brainless idiot! Eunuch!"

"-boring old hag with four children and-"

"You want to bring up futures, I suggest you talk to someone more your brain caliber, not someone who's going to be signing your paychecks! And by the time I'm making millions, you're warming the bench for some stupid team that pays worthless crybabies all the money that we could be using on educating our people, and-!"

"-totally commit suicide because you have such a boring, crappy-"

"-not on some brainless twit that uses his paycheck to buy himself stupid cars and useless houses and clothes that you don't even wear-"

"BOTH OF YOU, SHUT UP!!!" Wufei shouted, startling the entire class into silence. Everyone looked in their direction as Meiran and Quatre huffed and separated, moving in opposite directions with mutters under their breath. With a maddened expression, Wufei looked from one to the other, shaking his head in disbelief. He caught Hiiro's pitying expression, and scowled at him. Hiiro only smirked and returned to studying, shaking his head.

He was so used to the blond's constant instigating on others that he had taught himself to tune him out whenever he heard that familiar tenor began. Except on the court, of course. While the boy was entirely talented on the court, Hiiro would listen and somewhat respect what was being said, but off? Well, that was an entirely different story. One that Hiiro would not bother with. The blond was hopeless with people, and he only wondered why Trowa Barton stayed with him. He could do so much better...he supposed that Duo was right in trying to set him up with Middie Une...

>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<

Quatre passed the day hanging out with various students from his class-Castok James was in his English Honors II class, so he passed the time learning that the giant was in competition with both Meiran and Wufei over the highest grade point average in their class, and that his wrestling commitments were being featured in the city newspaper. He was the talk of the week in high school athletic columns, and had learned that he was currently having trouble with his little brother, Hautta, who was constantly starting fights with him. Quatre listened as Castok revealed that Hautta was getting very serious with Perfect Cindy, and had even mentioned marriage as soon as they turned eighteen. Castok was deeply troubled over this, because he didn't like Perfect, and he certainly thought that Hautta was rushing things.

Quatre hadn't heard from Hautta in such a long time, so he was curious about his former teammate. He found out that when he was kicked off the team for fighting with another student, he'd been reprimanded by his probation officer, and actually had been sent back to the treatment center in outer space that rehabilitated former murderers into intense psycho-counseling. While the entire aspect was very interesting indeed, Quatre wondered if they had programs for people like him. He found himself losing his temper a lot lately, and he really wanted to work on it. Despite the benefits, though, he found himself losing control anyway.

He had Felicia in his Wood Shop class, so that was going to be fun. He also had her in his next two classes, so while he was comforted in that, he realized that Trowa was in those classes as well. That made at least eight classes that he was paired with the goth, and it was hard to avoid somebody when they had classes with them. In PE, the teacher had designated free gym, so he was shooting casually with Felicia, William, a kid named Aaron, and another guy named 'Booby' because of his infatuation with breasts. As he joked and laughed with the others, he'd noticed that Trowa sat by himself on the bleachers, looking entirely like he wasn't looking in their direction. Middie had the same class, but she was giggling with a bunch of cheerleader friends on the other end, and every so often, they would yell at Trowa.

Quatre found himself seething over this, but a well placed bop on the head from the basketball knocked him out of his fury, reminding him that he had to think about things before confronting the goth. Besides, he was still so angry that he figured that before he could talk, he would be erupting with undecidedly disastrous results-re: throwing a tantrum, crying, or both. Whichever came first or was stronger. He had to admit, he was pretty easy with the crying bit when it came to Trowa. Trowa brought out some of the more stronger emotions in him, and he couldn't really pinpoint why. True, he really, really liked the goth-Trowa was more to him than just a friend, and he figured it was just because this was his first relationship, he was thousands of miles from his home, and Trowa was his rock. Yes, his rock.

So he couldn't stop that painful churning of his stomach whenever he looked in the goth's direction, because, really, it hurt that he'd chosen someone over him, in a similar manner he himself had been dumped. But as he got to thinking about it, he began running over that same trail of thought he'd had earlier-that train of thought that convinced him he deserved it because he'd been shitty to Trowa.

Well, that had to be it. Something had come along and bopped him hard on the head to let him know, and it had to come to him in that form. Quatre had to tell himself this was payback. It actually made sense-Trowa had a scar from him, and he suffered pretty much daily from Quatre's ranting and raving and temper tantrums, so maybe this thing with Middie made sense. Someone was trying to let him know that what he was doing was wrong, so this is what happened.

Yeah, that made sense.

He shot the ball, fairly convinced that this was his due. Because he really didn't want to break up with Trowa-it hurt, but hell, he deserved it. He deserved that and more because Trowa took a lot of shit from him about any and everything. While the goth was there for Quatre in every way, Quatre was elusive and refusing to give him the attention he needed because he himself needed more attention then he thought the goth required.

Sighing with this revelation, figuring that he'd go over and talk it out with Trowa, Quatre shot the ball once more and moved in that direction. Felicia stopped him, distracting him with a question on what he was going to be doing after the game Friday night.

"I don't know. Sleeping?"

"Let's go out! We'll go somewhere and think about the situation," she said, nodding her head. Her arm was slung around his neck, forcing him to stoop a little to look into her face. She hung on him with the easy companionable grace that he was used to from her.

"Like, where? A movie?" he asked on a frown, not really warming to the idea, as he wanted to see what would happen with this Trowa situation before making any sort of plans. Actually, he was very eager to hurry over there and get this over with. He missed the goth's presence. It was like missing a limb. While Quatre was still hurt and angry at him for kissing Middie, he figured he'd just have to deal with it because he was a shithead.

"Dude, if I want entertainment, I ain't gonna pay fuckin' $12.50 for a fucking movie," Felicia muttered. She moved quickly, leaping onto his back, causing him to stumble forward under her weight. "I'll just come out and hang with you!"

Quatre managed to dislodge her from his back with a half snarl. "What's that supposed to mean?!"

"Exactly what it means. You're more drama than any stupid movie I wanna see. Even more so than the 'Fairly Odd Parents'!! Wee! Cosmo and Wanda!"

The blond stared at her as she bounced up and down in place with a gleeful expression. He shook his head slowly from side to side. "Fucking bloody Christ...sometimes, I really don't know why I know you. You're so fucking weird..."

She stopped jumping, then pounced on him, kissing his cheek with a sound smooch. She tried dragging him down to the court with a tough grip around his neck, but he caught himself quickly, spreading his legs to support himself and dislodging her arms from around his shoulders. "You love me! C'mon, let's go find something ta nibble on. I'm losing weight just by standing here."

"Hello?! We're in class?!"

"So?! Hey, Willie, lend me five dollars..." she said, moving over to William and trying to pants him as he shot.

"No!" the Australian exclaimed.

Quatre watched as laughing green eyes looked down at her. Quatre suspected the guy had a crush on her, but Felicia was either oblivious of the attention or knew it and worked it just to tease him. Whichever, it was obvious that the Australian liked her despite her manliness. It was kind of weird. Quatre couldn't imagine anybody liking Felicia in that way-she was just... just...manly. The guys that liked her may as well as be gay because she was just as boyish as they were...She was probably a closet lesbian, and that's why she kept denying it when nobody brought it up.

Well, maybe he should retract that thought. It was pretty mean on the behalf of all lesbians...

"My name ain't 'Willie', either! Get over here, you little brat!"

William moved away from the rim to wrap her into a headlock, trying to knock her to the floor. While the girl was distracted, Quatre turned away from them and started in Trowa's direction, but he saw with a puzzled stare that Trowa wasn't there. The bleachers were empty, and he looked around in confusion. Then, when he saw that the goth was talking to Middie amidst her group of friends, he felt himself growing furious. Quietly seething, glaring holes into the goth's back, Quatre clenched his fists and wondered why he even tried. Sometimes, he felt, when he tried to break out of his shithead attitude moments, something only reminded him why he was feeling that way in the first place. It appeared that Trowa wasn't as 'devastated' as he had looked, because the goth sure looked happy talking to that blond girl.

Furiously, Quatre grit his teeth, feeling both hurt and angry at the same time. Middie was hanging on his arm and the goth wasn't moving out of it the way he did before, so...now what?

"God, what a fuckin' skank," Felicia muttered at his side, rearranging her ponytail. "C'mon, Quat. Move on. I made a bad choice settin' you two up."

"Fuck off, Felicia," he muttered, moving away from the group. Why did he even bother?!

>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<

Their last class of the day was Study Hall-Quatre pointedly ignored the goth as they took seats in the opposite ends of the library, but it drove Trowa crazy that this was happening so, well, pointedly obvious. He was seething over Quatre's easy companionship to that manly bitch he used to call a friend, and it drove him insane to see those two together. Felicia liked to touch people, but hated when they touched her. As such, she was always hugging those she was bothering, or trying to wrestle them, or kissing them on the cheek. She claimed she hated touch-so why did she have to act like some girlfriend to his boyfriend?!

It drove Trowa crazy. He had given her usual affections no second thought, but seeing those two together, well, it just didn't sit right. And watching them in the gym as they talked, that drove Trowa up the wall. Quatre acted like he wasn't interested-so why didn't he push the girl away when she was all over him? Why didn't he stop her when she kissed him? Felicia claimed that she didn't like 'white boys', but why did she have to hang all over Quatre, practically the whitest one of them all?!

Trowa was furious with the girl, silently declaring war on her. She was supposed to be their friend, but she obviously wasn't if she kept flirting with Quatre constantly. And Quat let it happen! How was Trowa cheating on him with Middie if Middie was doing the same things as Felicia was doing with Quatre?! Okay, okay, so maybe they hadn't kissed each other like Trowa and Middie had, and Quatre was still expressing his dislike of girls by constantly dissing them, but still----! How was his situation different from Trowa's?

He'd thought that Quatre was going to talk to him, but that bitch stopped him and had to hang all over him. So Trowa grew angry and went to talk to Middie. As least she didn't play around with people's emotions and was straight up with herself and them. Not like a certain Native American girl that flitted from person to person, claiming to be their 'friend'. Traitorous bitch.

Trowa glared at the table, having ignored everyone that tried to talk to him. Glancing over at Quatre, he saw the blond joking around with a kid named Jack and another athlete named Kyle over their homework. He didn't in the least look hurt or angry, and so Trowa believed that this was meant to be. He wondered what Middie was doing after school and if she still wanted to go to town. If Quatre wasn't serious about this entire thing, then why should he?!

But...Trowa looked back over at Quatre, who was shaking his head to something the other two were laughing about, looking a little pissed. Trowa couldn't deny what he felt for the blond. He still loved him. He loved him, but this situation, this-this DRAMA. It was driving him crazy! He wanted it to stop! He didn't want to break up with Quatre-he wanted to make this up and get over it, but Quatre didn't look too serious about the situation. He thought that at least by now the blond would have approached him angrily and gave him the good one-two about what he felt. Maybe Quatre didn't want to be with him, then. He wasn't doing anything to confront Trowa about last night-maybe this was meant to be...

He sighed heavily and fiddled with his hair. Damn it. Just...damn it. Why couldn't things be easier?