<a class="proll" href="https://www.Writing.Com/main/campfires/item_id/1196165-Portions-for-Foxes">Portions for Foxes

Name:Louis Mercer
Age:16
AppearanceTall and solid. His hair is a sandy brown color and sticks up at odd angles. His eyes are a soft hazel color. He's very handsome, and has prominent cheekbones and a small mouth. He has a swimmer's body, lined with lean muscles.
Personality:He's very reserved, sweet, and shy. He's the kind of boy who opens doors for people and often lets himself get walked all over. A bit of a doormat. He latches onto people very quickly. Has a habit of becoming dependent on other people. He speaks very softly. Little to no sense of humor.
History: Was overweight all through middle school. Freshman year began running track and swimming to loose weight. Kept the same friends. Has never had a girlfriend because he's been in love with his best friend his whole life. She never saw him that way. Girls tend to not notice him, despite the way he looks. Always been intelligent, and has been trying to get into Trinity since his freshman year. Parents are divorced. Lives with his neglegant father and sugary-sweet stepmother.
Life Track: Wants to become a nuerologist. Pre-med.
Extra-curricular: Wants to join the swim team, but doesn't participate in many school activities because he is too shy.

Name:Isabelle Archer
Age:16
Appearance: 5'4 115lbs. She works out almost daily, taking dance and pilates classes in the performing arts wing of Trinity. She has full wavy/curly deep black hair. Her father is Irish and her mother is Cuban. Her skin is a soft cream color with freckles spread thinly over her round face and nose. She has bright emerald eyes and thick, arched eyebrows. Frankly, she's stunning to look at.
Personality: She gives off an almost bittersweet vibe. She doesn't approach people, she waits to be approached. She keeps her friends close and confides everything in the select few she trusts. She keeps other people at distance enough so that no one truly claims to know her. Most only hear her speak in class, and then her words are chosen very precisely and deliberately. Most people think she's brilliant, and their right. Her intelligence comes almost effortlessly, its a smooth intelligence that isn't nerdy and doesn't make her seem like she's trying too hard.
History: Her mother had an affair with the father of the family she was caring for. She gave Isabelle up for adoption to a couple eager for children. The father happened to be an actor who had just scored his first big movie. The couple instantly became celebrities and millionaires. Isabelle has been a princess her whole life, doted on an showered with gifts. She doesn't really care to know who her real parents are, her relationship with her adopted parents in very strong. Her mother taught her to do everything with intent. She's had boyfriends, but has never let any of them go past kissing. She says she's waiting for someone who can change her. Known to manipulate boys.
Life-Track: Law, but she really wants to be a singer, she plays piano very well.
Extra-curricular: Debate Team and Student Government to satisfy her parents, Dance Team, Musical Theater, and Film Society to satisfy herself.

Name: Cal Syler
Age: 17
Appearance: 5'10" 180 lbs. He is built and stocky, strong, but not overly so. Has dark brown hair that he keeps spiked. A small goatee. He is somewhat tanned, but not bronze. Blue-gray eyes.
Personality: Kind, yet very mysterious. Looks downtrodden alot, but still shows good spirit when necessary. Because of his cold-but-kind attitude, girls tend to fawn, most of which he ignores, not letting it get to his head.
History: He doesn't remember much of his parents, as they died when he was very young and left him the sole heir of their fortune and request he be sent to Trinity. Currently looking for Mrs. Right.
Life-track: Criminal justice, but loves to sing, write, and play bass and harmonica.
Extra-curricular: Football, creative writing, and Musical theater.

Name: Li Yi Min
Age: 16
Appearance: Small, 5 ft 5 in tall, 106 lbs. His hair is rather shaggy and black. He wears jeans and a t-shirt most of the time, and scuffed sneakers.
Personality: He's Chinese, the first generation born in the U.S., so his family name is Li and his first name is Yi Min, but he goes by Li. He's usually a quiet, soft-spoken person, but once the ice is broken, he can talk a person's ear off about his favorite subjects, math and computers.
History: His father is a teacher of physics at MIT and his mother is a linguist who works for the FBI. Li was born in the U.S. but lived the first ten years of his life in various foreign countries, traveling with his parents. Consequently, he speaks the semi-fluently four different languages, outside his Chinese, which is spoken in the home almost exclusively, and English, spoken everywhere else.
Life Track: Robotics.
Extra-curricular: Li belongs to the math club and plays rugby most of the year. For fun, Li also programs simple computer games and takes apart (and sometimes rebuilds) any electronic gadget he can get his hands on. At home, he's helping to restore (with his father) a '67 Ford Mustang, a Bluebonnet Special.

Name: Martin Trenchard
Age: 18
Appearance: Around six foot and of average build, he looks taller than he really is because of a complete refusal ever to slouch. There's nothing particularly striking about him - he's more on the vaguely good-looking side of average, but not so much that he gets more than a few second glances. Unless you're one of those people who has a thing for English accents. Martin is, however, at all times perfectly neat and totally unruffled.
Personality: Loves the 'English gentleman' thing, and plays it up to an extent that's almost but not quite ridiculous. Takes people at their word, never tells a lie, and wouldn't dream of being nasty even to his enemies. The sort of person who opens doors for ladies, and does it so naturally it doesn't even seem put-on. That being said, he has the kind of sharp wit that can cause pain in the unwary (beware Martin's puns) and a steely determination to suceed. Just try to stop him.
History: It's not all an act. Martin actually is a gentleman in the old sense of the word. There are no actual titles in his immediate family, and their money is earned through business rather than aristocracy, but back home in Surrey he's definitely upper class. Cruel sniping that he bought his way into Trinity is entirely unfounded - it was this or Oxford, and Oxford lost.
Life track: Research - he's a physicist by inclination.
Extra-curricular: Debate Team, edits the student newspaper, joined the maths club - and will basically learn anything that anyone wants to teach him.

A Non-Existent User

Name: Jessica Thrace

Age: 17

Appearance: Strong and athletic, with piercing eyes and an easy smile. She dresses for comfort over style, keeping her hair very short and preferring baggy cloths when she isn't working out. In fact, some people mistake her for a boy at first, but this is rare, and never seems to bother her anyways.

Personality: Bravado and a gung-ho attitude have left Jessica with a forceful personality. She always tries her best at what she does, and says what she thinks with little concern with ingraciating herself with anyone. It isn't because she thinks a lot of herself; indeed, she doesn't usually talk or think much about herself. In a world filled with competition, Jessica competes for its own sake, to test herself, keeping herself aloof from the usual spirit of such things. She tends to snub and look down on people who put too much importance in winning, and those who think too much of themselves. Most other people know her to be a good person; at least, those who aren't put off by her personality first.

History: Jessica grew up the oldest of five children in a family too poor to support them. She had been gifted with a natural intelligence, though, and a drive to pull herself out of the life. She managed a scholarship in addition to passing the rough admissions requirements.

Life Track: Math Theory

Extra-curricular: Debate, soccer, track, and chess

Name: Alhambra Guiteau
Age: 18

Appearance: Alhambra is half Persian and half French, making her possibly the most beautiful girl in all of Trinity because, though she's not a typical beauty, she's so different that people remember her. She's 5'9 and curvacious- she's a little heavier than most of the girls because of her big hips and breasts, but she has a small waist and is definitely healthy. Her skin is a pale brown, a coffee with milk color, and completely clear and beautiful. She has a Persian nose- rather large and straight, and full dark pink lips, as well as an oval face and high cheekbones. Alhambra has long, straight black hair down to her hips, which she loves, but she admits that her most striking feature is her eyes- they're large, almond-shaped, and a beautiful shade of green, framed by long lashes and high arched brows. She might be bigger and she's definitely different, but Alhambra is also beautiful and the most striking and memorable girl at Trinity.

Personality: Alhambra was raised in Nice, France and has a very French Country outlook on life. There's a certain superiority complex, as her father's family is a very old, aristocratic line and comes from very old money, but she doesn't feel she needs to prove herself in order to feel good about herself. She's very open about her opinions and her feelings, and feels that a great many Americans are very prude and afraid of sexuality. Alhambra is very proud and a little snooty, a little bit of an alcoholic (the French love their wine), and kind've a partier. School comes so easily to her that she can afford to slack off sometimes and still get amazing grades, but she often puts partying before school, and tends to make people angry because she can do both. Despite this, her mother is a Muslim and has instilled Alhambra with very womanly sensibilities- she is very feminine and graceful, charitable and kind. She feels she's a little too intelligent to be a housewife, but she knows that her mother will ensure she makes a good marriage anyway, so she's very secure in her life.

History: Born to an old, aristocratic French father and an Iranian woman (daughter of the Iranian ambassador to France), Alhambra was named after the Muslim Palace in Granada, Spain so to remember her rich, Islamic history. Her father's ancestral home was in the countryside outside of Nice, France and Alhambra was brought up to embrace a French outlook on life. She is a Muslim, but a certain abount of Francophone liberalism has infused her belief system. Alhambra believes in gay rights and abortion and stem cell research, and all those other liberal agendas that the "prudish" Americans don't follow because they're too religious. She also believes in a glass of wine with every meal and having a healthy amount of fun in life. She is kind've spoiled, since she's a "Daddy's Girl", but her mother has made sure she follows the 5 Pillars of Islam as best as possible. Alhambra did earn her way into Trinity, but because her father went there, as well, there is talk that she was only let in because of who her father is.

Life Track: Political Science, particularly Comparative Democracies and Diplomacy

Extra-curricular: Style/Entertainment Editor of the School Paper, Model UN, Student Government, Musical Theatre, and Costume Design

The large wooden doors were just as unwelcoming as they had been in the dream Louis Mercer had on the drive up to Trinity. They were almost gothic, and had "Trinity school of excellence" in some calligraphy across the front. Louis pulled open the door, feeling his heart nearly beating out of his chest.

This was it. He was finally here. After three years of trying, he had finally gotten into Trinity school.

The front lobby was large and circular, and had a high cathedral ceiling and three off-shooting hallways. Directly in front of him was a large glass encasement, where a woman with bright red hair sat. She stared at him expectantly, knowing full well who he was and what he was doing there.

"Louis Mercer, junior?" She said in a high, sweet voice. Louis looked around, though once he did it he could figure out why. The woman obviously knew him, that was one of the things he had liked most about Trinity. He was never going to be just another number again. He stepped foward, gripping the handle of his blue roller suitcase tighter. A few kids passed him in the hallway, shifting their eyes away from him when he looked up. He was an outsider, and they were as aware of it has he was.

"Okay dear here is your class schedule and here is your dorm assignment. You will only have one roomate, being a junior and all. You're in Avery wing, which is just over there to the left." Louis looked to his left, down the long and seemingly endless hallway. He looked back at the woman. She smiled at him wordlessly. She had done her job.

Not knowing what else to do, Louis turned and bean to walk down the hallway. It was nearly empty, school didn't start for another three days. He looked down at his room assignment. Avery Wing, Floor 3, Room 15. His roomate would be Li Yi Min. Louis looked back up and down the hallway.

He had made it to Trinity.

"You know, this shirt fit when I bought it at the beginning of the summer," Isabelle said, clutching the loose edges of a sparkling pink tank top. She was surveying herself in the full length mirror that hung on the door of her dormroom. Her wild black hair has pulled haphazardly into a loose bun, and she had black thin-framed glasses on. Even the carefree vibe looked good on Isabelle.

"Well, you should stop loosing weight," Isabelle's best friend, Rachel, said from behind her. She was sitting on her bed, thumbing through the pages of Seventeen magazine. Rebecca was a mousy girl with thin blonde hair and no real striking features. She was an athlete, but also happened to be the most real and loyal person Isabelle had found in her two years at Trinity.

"I haven't lost anymore weight, Rache. I don't know why it doesn't fit." Isabelle frowned at the mirror, taking the shirt off in frustration and throwing it on her bed. It landed amidst the mess of schoolbooks and other discarded clothes. "Now I don't have anything to wear to the social," she said as she slipped a T-shirt over her head. Rachel frowned, unconcerned.

The social was the back to school event where freshman got to get aquainted and the rest of the school got to re-form its cliques and remember why they formed them in the first place. It would take place tomorrow night. Isabelle loved the social, because every year she was the prettiest one in her class, so they all told her. But this year she had a different objective in mind. She wanted to find herself a boy. After all, it was junior year.

"I'm hungry," Isabelle said suddenly. Rachel looked up from the magazine, considering for a moment.

"Alright, I could eat something."

They passed through the "dome", the middle circular room of Trinity with all entrance and exit traffic. There was hardly anyone at Trinity yet. A few people passed them, nodding in acknowledgement. No one really said anything, though, it would be assuming too much to think that Isabelle and Rachel wanted to talk to them.

As they walked past the front doors Alhambra Guiteau was just getting there. She was surrounded by a gaggle of upperclassmen, just wanting to get at her. Isabelle frowned.

"I don't get it, I don't see the big deal. I mean, what's so great about her?" She said under her breath.

"Well she's like you, except more of everything you are. Y'know?" Isabelle knew that Rachel didn't mean to be offensive at all, that's just the way she was. It was one of the reasons she had liked Rachel so much. She was never going to sugarcoat anything she said.

"Thanks Rache, but I think its the foreign thing. You know what?? Every year I'm better than her at auditions and every year she gets the lead. But this year, Rache, you watch. I'm gonna get lead." Rachel didn't say anything, but Isabelle knew her wheels were turning in apprehension. Isabelle smiled to herself. This year, things would be different.

Cal walked through the school with a look of contempt on his face. Today had not been a good day. It had been alright when he got up, and then everything went downhill. Football practice had been cancelled for the day, he had been told by his coach that he needed to choose between his favorite extracurricular activities.

That he couldn't do. But Cal knew that sooner or later, things would get better. It would just take some time. He was so deep in thought, he accidentally bumped into someone, causing her to drop her books.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said, as he bent down to help her pick them up. He noticed her as Alhambra Guiteau, a girl that all the upperclassman wanted to date. He smiled at himself. It was true she was beautiful, but they didn't need to smother her like that.

"Thanks," she said as they finished picking up the last of her books. He nodded and smiled.

"If I can make this up to you, I will. What class do you have next?"

"I have Debate, as part of my Poly Sci credits."

"How 'bout that, that's where I'm off to next. Allow me to carry your books for you, considering I'm the one that made you drop them in the first place."

"Thank you. That's very kind."

So Cal carried Alhambra's books to Debate, wondering what the rest of the day would hold. Cal knew one thing. The day had just started to get better.

Li huffed tiredly up the stairs, smiling a slightly crooked smile, and dangling his helmet from one hand. They'd had a good practice, and he was once again the starting hooker for the team. He sighed deeply with satisfaction. There was nothing like getting down in the dirt with five other guys and kicking like mad for the ball. He'd been up against a freshman, no contest, really, but the other, reserve hooker, had graduated last year, and this freshman was the only volunteer. He'd looked really shaken after the first couple of scrums, as he'd really had no idea what to expect. He'd said he'd wanted to play football, but was turned away because he'd been too short. Wide as anything, but too short and too slow.

Scuffling his rugby cleats, or 'boots' as they were called, on the hallway stairs, Li saw that there was someone standing in the doorway of his room. That was odd, the boy wasn't anyone Li recognized. He also carried a couple of suitcases, so he must've just arrived. Maybe he was in the wrong room? Maybe ... Li knew that his and Martin's application to dorm together this year had been turned down, as the dean thought it best if juniors shared with juniors and seniors with seniors, but had there really been no one else available? Was he stuck with a new kid?

Well, he sighed, at least he didn't have to worry about preconceived notions from the get-go.

With his helmet, he tapped the boy on the elbow. "'Scuse me," he said, "might you just move out of the way a little?"

The boy stared a piece of paper in his hand as he moved to the side. "Are you Li? Lee Yee Min?"

Li grinned. "Yep. Call me Li." He tossed his helmet on the box at the foot of his bed and sat down to pull off his boots. "And you are?" he prompted.

"Louis Mercer. I'm new here."

"You don't say," kidded Li, grinning. He dropped a mud-encrusted boot to the floor. "Well? Are you going to stand in the door all day or come in?"

Louis awkwardly edged sideways, allowing the door to swing shut. He dumped both suitcases on the bed, standing there and staring at Li.

Li was feeling a bit uncomfortable himself. "Um, so how'd you get in to Trinity as a transfer? We get one or two a year, but I've never seen a junior transfer in, and at the beginning of the year, no less."

Louis was now staring at the striped, mud-encrusted knee-high sock Li was now dumping next to his shoe. The sock was black with red stripes, the match to the thick, heavy, long-sleeved shirt he wore and the really short, but heavy-fiber shorts over the black bicycle shorts he wore. The boots were somewhat of a cross between soccer cleats and football spikes, with longer cleats than in soccer, and made of metal. They were taller, like in football, with the sides protecting the ankles, and had metal toes to protect the feet.

"Ah, what is it that you do?"

Li grinned. "This is my rugby kit." His face fell a little in disappointment. "I guess you don't play?" He shrugged quickly. "No matter, my best friend, Martin, doesn't play, either, though he's a brit, and that hasn't harmed our friendship at all. It was a bit muddy out today, what with the rain over the weekend. We had to fight the soccer team over the fields again this year. We lost, as usual, and got the
old football field again. It's rocky as all get out, and doesn't keep grass worth beans. I dare say I'll get all knocked about this year again."

"I dare say you will!" laughed a voice from the door.

"Martin!" exclaimed Li, jumping up, one shoe on, one off. "Come in and meet my new roomate, Louis."

Together, Martin and Li made a strange sight, with Martin about 6 inches taller than the diminutive Li, but they'd been best friends since meeting in the Math club during Li's freshman year.

Louis and Martin shook hands formally, and Martin said gravely, "How do you do?" before loosening up a little and winking. "I'd hide your computer, if you've got one, Li's a prankster when it comes to electronics." He eyed his dishevelled friend in exasperated amusement. "I see he hasn't unpacked yet. Go, on, Li, show me this new gadget you blabbered over all summer."

Ignoring his sweaty and muddy garb, Li ripped the tape off his box and hauled out a shoebox (and a lot of packing peanuts, but he ignored those). Taking off the lid, he handed what looked to be a Voltron-esq robot made from an erector set to Martin.

"Here you go, Martin, just watch." He dragged over his laptop, already set up in the ruins of the open suitcase on the bed. He typed in a few commands and the robot raised one of its arms.

"Cool. What else can it do?"

Li shook his head. "Not much, I can't get the walking to work out, so I'm going to outfit it with treads and see if I can get it to roll. Say, Louis, what do you think?"

The new boy looked rather uneasy, to be sure, but he rallied valiantly. "Um, it's cool. Did you make it?"

"Yeah, say, Martin, did you see Alhambra come in?" The older boy nodded, blushing. "You going to ask her out this year?" He chuckled at his friend's hemming and hawing. "He's had an awful crush on her," Li explained to Louis, "for years, I mean years, but then I guess most everybody does." He laughed.

But Martin wasn't going to let him off so easily. "And you?" he asked his friend. "You gotten up the courage to ask Marie to the Social? You swore you would."

"Well, um, she wasn't at practice. I dare say I'll see her tomorrow morning."

"I dare say!" teased Martin right back with a laugh. "Marie's the hooker on the girls' team," he added for Louis' benefit.

"Hooker?" echoed Louis. "Is that --"

"A position I play in rugby," Li explained with a mock scowl for his friend. "Sounds crazy, but as if this lug would know what it is. He can't tell the difference between a scrum and a maul."

"I beg your pardon?" asked Louis, bewildered.

"It all looks the same to me," protested Martin. "Like a big wrestling match involving a whole bunch of arms and legs and one ball that everyone's chasing like a greased pig."

The two boys laughed, an old, familiar argument for them. Finally, Martin said he had to go.

"Got to check up on the paper, you know," he reminded his friend. "See you at supper. See you, Louis."

"See ya!" replied Li and Louis waved shyly.

"Just you wait," said Li when Martin had gone. "You're going to love it here!"

A Non-Existent User

Jessica was sorting through the files when Alhambra walked into the room. Jessica had an easy bearing, a sort of relaxed air about her. The effect seemed to mainly come the confident smile she always wore, but the large, baggy clothes billowing around her, and the fact that she was sitting on the back, and not the seat, of the chair certainly helped her air of nonchalance. She didn’t say anything to Alhambra, but just nodded in greeting.

“Hello, Jessica,” Alhambra said pleasantly.

“Uh huh,” Jessica replied sourly, “Look, our affirmative file is complete crap, we really need to do something about this.”

“What about our negative file?”

“What negative file? All it has are the bare basics, general arguments. Mostly procedural stuff, topicality arguments and such that cover most cases very generally. We have absolutely no material in relation to the topic at hand, or any of the specific arguments out there.”

“We’ll get together and do some research after classes are done.”

“Whaddya mean we? You’re the mad genius, I’m just good at this because I talk fast.” Jessica grinned at Alhambra, “With your smarts and my big mouth, we’ll be the unstoppable debate team. Just keep the cards coming and I’ll keep reading them, quick as you like.” Jessica slid into the seat of her chair with a thump. She looked up and saw that Cal guy looking in their direction. “Oi, muscly-head,” Jessica said at Cal in a loud voice, “Yeah, I’m talking to you, porcupine. Sorry, but staring won’t get you anywhere, mister hunkerson, this terrific bod’s taken, by a hand that’s twice the man you are.” Cal just shrugged and slunk off. Jessica flashed a grin at Alhambra, “I hope that wasn’t too demoralizing for you. I don’t mean to put you off, but seriously, who would look at you when there’s a true beauty like me sitting right next to you. Not to say you’re not pretty, understand, but who could compete against this?”

Alhambra smiled softly, but didn't reply to Jessica's chest-puffing narrative. It had been delivered just loud enough for the entire class to hear, so Jessica could prove her immunity to the uproar that seemed to arise everywhere Alhambra went. Sitting and reading through the two files of their debate- a hypothetical international-economic emergency between France and England- Alhambra surmised that Jessica's posturing was likely for Alhambra's benefit, as well. No one at the school, besides maybe Martin (with whom Alhambra worked on the school newspaper), knew how much she hated being swarmed every time she entered a room as much as Jessica knew it. Part of the girl's abrasive front was to put off any number of Alhambra's amorous followers.

They'd been assigned the role of England, something that hadn't pleased Alhambra at all. Granted, it gave her a thorough knowledge of the opposing team's research and what they would likely say, but the assignment also doubled the work that she would have to do on their affirmative file. Jessica was right: out of the two of them, Alhambra actually knew the facts. The younger girl simply read the cards Alhambra drew up; read them well, yes, but she rarely had any idea what she was saying. Alhambra sometimes wondered if she could write out movie lines or song lyrics, hand Jessica the card, and watch the girl read them without thinking or stopping. But, Alhambra had to admit, it did make for a good debate.

"I'll have to talk to Martin. If anyone'd know how England would react to a Franco-Anglican economic crisis, then he would. And I'll talk to my father for the negative. He'll have some good research available in the library at home." Alhambra's voice was sweet, a lilting French Country accent singing gracefully, perhaps a little huskier than would be expected from her appearance, but very quickly becoming part of what made Alhambra who she was.

Jessica nodded and fell into her seat as the professor- a small, gray-haired woman named Marvis Langdon- slipped through the door and called the class to attention. Out of the corner of her eye, Alhambra saw Cal sit a few seats over, but he was still staring over at them. She sighed softly, realizing that quite a few of the boys in the room were staring at her. And quite a few of them would likely approach her during free debate time, mostly to ask her out. Times like this were very distressing to Alhambra. On some level, she revelled in the attention she got from men, knowing that they yearned for her, but she didn't want anyone dogging her steps or hearing the piercing cat calls as she walked down the hallways.

"Psst, Alhambra." Ah, it began, she thought as she turned around to look at another senior boy whom she had only rarely spoken to. Brendon she believed his name was. "Are you going to the social tonight?"

Jessica heard and came to Alhambra's rescue. "Yes she it. Why don't you wait for her outside her window and she'll throw her locks down to you. Get your head out of fairy tale land, kid; you don't stand a chance."

Brendon's eyes flashed. "Stay out of it, bitch. I'm talkin' to Alhambra."

"No you are not," Alhambra replied, sitting up straight and pulling the sides together on her black, velvet jacket to hide the skin revealed by the green tube top underneath. "I will have nothing to do with a little boy who would insult the friend of someone he was trying to woo." Turning away, Alhambra tossed her braid over her shoulder and faced the front of the classroom, hearing the mumbling of the boy behind her.

"Attention class. Attention." Professor Langdon's soft voice broke into the attentive silence of the room. "As your debates are on Friday, I am giving you this week to work with your partner. Anyone needing to go to the library may go. Everyone else should stay in here and work on finalizing their debate."

Alhambra and Jessica stood, gathering their things, and walked out of the classroom in the direction of the library. Several people were behind them, including most of the males in the class, but Alhambra ignored them, instead enjoying Jessica's spirited telling of how her summer had gone.

"Alhambra!" Looking ahead of her in the hall, Alhambra smiled and waved as Li, accompanied by a boy she didn't recognize, headed for her. As they came together in the hall, Alhambra gave Li a hug and turned to the new boy.

"Hello, I'm Alhambra Guiteau. Nice to meet you...?"

Li stepped in. "This is Louis Mercer. He's my roommate this year, and a junior transfer." Tapping Louis, who stood staring at Alhambra like a deer in headlights, Li pushed the boy into a brief handshake with the older girl. "Nice to meet you, Alhambra."

"I'm Jessica. Jessica Thrace. Now, if you don't mind, we've got a debate to work on." Jessica pushed on down the hall, leaving Alhambra to make their excuses and promise to stop in at the paper later to see Martin, whom she hadn't seen since her return. Jessica was well out of sight- probably already at the library- by the time Alhambra made her way down the hall again.

"Miss Guiteau." This voice was a welcome one. The Drama teacher, Mr. Bale, was just coming out of his office. "I thought I heard your voice. Would you mind speaking for a moment?"

Alhambra shook her head, stepping into Mr. Bale's office and sitting down on the student side of his desk. Every year, Alhambra participated in the school musical, usually ending up with some sort of lead part. She also participated in the straight play, both acting and in the costume department, designing and creating.

"How was your summer, Alhambra? Did you go home to Nice?" Mr. Bale sat down, clasping his hands on his desk and watching Alhambra with a benign expression on his young face.

Alhambra nodded. "For a time. I also traveled along the Mediterranean, and went to Japan. Spent some time in New York, as well."

"Very nice. I'm glad you had a fruitful summer. Anyway, I called you in to tell you about the productions for this year. Are you familiar with the musical "Damn Yankees" at all?"

"Yes, of course. I have the soundtrack. Is that the musical for this year? Do you think we have the male talent to handle it? I heard that Cal has to give this up for football- his coach finally went through with his threat to kick him off the team if he keeps doing the musical." Alhambra thought about the males that did the musical every year. Cal would make a perfect Joe, but what about Mr. Applegate?

"I think we can talk Cal into performing a lead in the musical, especially since Joe and Applegate are the two main characters in the entire play. It's definitely a male-centric kind've thing. Even Lola is a male fantasy." Mr. Bale sat back in his chair. "This being said, I think we've got plenty of male talent. Cal has the looks for Joe if we can get him to shave off that damned goatee and look like a baseball player. Christian Walsh would be good for Mr. Applegate."

Alhambra nodded again. "What about Lola and Meg? I mean...it needs two girls who're beautiful in different ways and are kind've rivals, but who don't...actually hate each other."

"You and Isabelle Archer, of course," Mr. Bale replied without pause. "I doubt she can be happy that you get the leads every year. But...since it's not just me who picks, it's a council of students...it really is kind've a popularity contest. Plus, you're a belter and a better character actor. Isabelle has a sweeter voice, but she's also a brilliant method actress. Perfect for Meg. And you'd be Lola, I believe."

"And the straight play?" Alhambra knew she had to get to the library, or Jessica would likely begin to go insane. But the performances for that year were important to her, as well.

"I pulled out the script for 'A Midsummer Nights Dream'. It's harder to cast, since you're tall, like Helena, but you're built more like Hermia. I kind've want Isabella for Titania, since she's kind've fae-looking. Auditions will be really important for this..."

"Alhambra! Where are you, girl? Did you get lost on the way to the library?" Jessica.

"I've got to go. I'm technically in class and I didn't think this would last as long as it did. I'll see you at the meeting later this week, Mr. Bale." Alhambra got up and headed into the hall to show Jessica that she was meeting with a teacher. The other girl's face relaxed; a meeting with a teacher was important enough. "Sorry Jessica, let's go to the library."

*****

Alhambra headed for the pressroom, as she called it, her heels clicking against the wood floors of the corridor. She had promised to stop in and see Martin after class, and knew that he would likely be at his desk, planning out the first edition of the paper for that semester. Alhambra, herself, edited the style section, something that she quite enjoyed doing, since it allowed her to write mostly opinions and stop researching once in a while.

As she got to the door, Alhambra heard voices. Martin, with his beautiful accent, was speaking with someone whom Alhambra quickly recognized was Li. He must've come back after whatever it was he had done after greeting Alhambra in the halls. The two were best friends; it was hardly unexpected that they would be hanging out together.

"...I can't ask her out, alright, Li? She'd never say yes. I'm this plain, little nothing and she's so beautiful. It'd never happen."

Alhambra's heart broke to hear Martin;s voice sounding so defeated. He was a good-looking individual, even if his looks weren't typical. Who better than Alhambra to know that atypical features could be something beautiful?

"Aw, Martin...if there's a girl you like, she'd be silly not to say yes," she said, nudging her way into the room. Martin jumped slightly, but recovered quickly and turned on his heel to greet Alhambra. It was refreshing, amongst all the other boys at Trinity, to meet someone so reserved and so much the gentleman. Whoever Martin liked was a lucky girl, Alhambra surmised. He was a good man. "You're a wonderful person."

Li looked back and forth between Martin and Alhambra, wondering how much the girl had heard of their conversation. She didn't seem to know that they had been speaking of her, so the tension melted from his shoulders. Martin stood stock still and smiled softly. "Alhambra. You look lovely. Your summer must've been very fruitful."

In jeans and a tank top, even with heels, Alhambra thought she looked anything but lovely, but she thanked Martin anyway. "And handsome as always, Mr. Trenchard. Yes, my summer was very entertaining. You should've contacted me and I would've come to visit you in England."

Martin's face paled. "Well...um...yes, I apologise. It was rude of me to not contact you at all this summer."

"Oh, stop being so formal with me, Martin. I think we're beyond that." Alhambra reached up and kissed him on each, now very red, cheek. "Are you going to the social tonight?"

Martin nodded. Behind Alhambra, Li was practically flailing at Martin to ask her. Martin looked from him back to Alhambra and back to Li, his eyes big and scared. "What's wrong, Martin?" Alhambra asked. She was a woman who knew men, and knew that they liked her, but Martin had never shown any interest in her. He'd always been friendly and chivalrous, but had never shown any inkling of interest. It was probably for that reason that, above any other boy at Trinity, Alhambra had always considered dating only Martin. "Good," she said. "I need a date. What say you, you handsome devil."

Bowing slightly, Martin gave a small smiled. "I would be honored to squire you, m'lady."

Alhambra laughed. "You're such an amazing friend, Martin. What would a girl do without you?"

"Succomb to the crowds of men following her everywhere, I suppose." Martin grinned and reached out to give Alhambra a hug. "It's good to see you again, my friend. It's good to see you again."

Neither noticed as Li rolled his eyes and sighed behind them. "Idiot," he muttered. "You're a fricken coward. But at least you get to go to the social with her. Even if she asked you and only as a friend. Good start."

There was a full-length mirror in the room that Louis shared with Li. Louis stood in front of it, trying desperately to smooth down the small creases in his blue dress shirt. So far everyone he'd come across at Trinity had been nice, and it gave him high hopes for his upcoming year.

But, despite that, Louis still couldn't understand why he had decided to go to the social. He was the least social person probably at the school, but Li's argument in the for column had been so convincing that Louis had agreed to go without even realizing it. He thought particularly hard about the "every girl in Trinity will be there" part. Even if that was the part that made him the most nervous.

He had been introduced to one girl already, Alhambra he thought her name was, and she had been nothing short of amazing. If every girl at Trinity looked like her, Louis knew he was both cursed and blessed. He would never have the courage to talk to a girl that looked like that.

"I'd swear you were a girl, standing in front of the mirror and preening like that. Are you just about ready?" Lee had come into the room, looking very cleaned-up. He was beaming almost the length of his face. "Marie will be waiting for me," he said with a wink.

"The hooker?" Louis asked. Li laughed and nodded.

"Yes, I finally got the courage to ask her to the social. And you? Seen anyone you have a particular liking to?" Li opened the door and Louis followed him out.

"Not particularly," Louis muttered as they continued down the hallway.

~~~~~

In the hall, everything was dim and large colored bulb-lights hung from the ceilings. The room was decorated in sparkle and shimmer, and music blared from the stage where a DJ podium was positioned. Louis stood in the doorway, paralyzed, while Li continued in to find Marie.

He felt someone brush his side. Louis turned quickly, and saw an athletic looking blonde girl standing next to him.

"Sorry, I'm sorry." She said quickly. The girl next to her giggled.

"Rachel's a right clutz. I swear, can't take her anywhere." The girl smiled and Louis felt his stomach drop. She was beautiful. From her dark hair to her brilliant green eyes, Louis thought this was the most amazing thing he'd ever laid eyes on. The girl stuck out her hand.

"Isabelle. I don't think I've ever met you," Louis stared at her hand. His arms felt like lead.

"I'm new-" He stammered out. Rachel and Isabelle laughed.

"Well Mr. New, why don't you walk some lonely girls into the social." Isabelle pointed towards the center where a mass of people were dancing. Louis nodded but still couldn't move his body.

"It's Louis," he added as Isabelle pulled him foward.

"Ah, well I thought New was a rather odd name..."

Cal arrived at the social alone and a little late. But that was okay with him. He knew that Alhambra had gone to the social with Martin, and that was cool. He really preferred to wing it anyway. When he got their, about three girls asked him to dance. He declined each one apologetically.

He found Alhambra and Martin standing near a corner. 'Poor guy,' he thought, 'he doesn't know what he should do. But that's alright, I've got to tell Alhambra something anyways and wouldn't want to disturb a dance.'

"Alhambra. Martin. How are you tonight?" he asked them when he reached where they were standing.

"Hey, Cal," Martin said.

"Hi, Cal," Alhambra said. "Where's your date?"

"Don't have one. Came alone. But I'm glad to see you here. I have to talk to you about the play. Coach doesn't know it, and I appreciate no one mentioning it, but I'm sneaking around in order to be in the play."

"Really?" Alhambra asked. Cal nodded. After a little more conversation, Cal nodded his farewells and headed around the place to socialize.

Li found Marie easily enough. She was standing with Beth and Judy, lounging in a corner. He started to say hi, but stopped, shocked to see Marie turn toward him with a giant raccoon's eye.

"What happened to you?" he blurted.

"Went down in a ruck and got kicked," she replied with a shrug. Then she grinned impishly and said, "It's only a flesh wound."

The other two girls, both backs on the rugby team, cackled with laughter.

Beth laughed, "They was just little alternates!"

And Judy added, "With long, sharp teeth!" She mimed fangs with her fingers.

"Okay, okay," Marie broke in, smiling. She winked at Li. "I'm fine, really. You should'a seen the shiner I had over the summer."

"Uh, so you played sevens, did you?"

"No, soccer. I broke my wrist in the first sevens game of the season. What can I say, I'm a clutz."

Li nodded, perplexed. Girls in packs made him distinctly nervous. And he could see Sarah, one of Marie's props, coming towards them. Sarah was big enough to play football, both her brothers did, and she simply towered over Li.

"Um, want to dance?" he blurted out of desperation.

Marie jumped up. "Sure!"

Li couldn't stop staring at Marie's black eye. It seemed so weird. Sure he'd ended up with some nasty bruises from rugby, but it hadn't occured to him that the girls got hurt, too. Sprained ankles were one thing, but he'd seen boys carried off the field on stretchers. Knee and back injuries were the most common, and sprained ankles, but those were rarely serious.

After the song, Marie dragged Li off the floor. "What's your problem?" she hissed. "Haven't you ever seen a black eye before?"

"Um, it's just that, well," he stared at his shoes.

She sighed in exasperation. "I'm not made of glass, you know. Geez! You've got the same expression my Dad had after he came to my first game! I swear I'm careful and I always wear my mouthguard and headgear. I even got shoulder pads this year. Honest, I know what I'm doing."

Looking at her intent face, Li felt himself relax a little. "Well, I suppose at least I know you're using your head."

She laughed. "That's the spirit! Look, promise you won't have a heart-attack the next time I get all banged up and I swear I won't baby you when you get hurt."

"What makes you think I'm going to get hurt?"

She lifted an eyebrow with sarcasm and disbelief, a ghoulish expression on her bruised face. "Gee, let me think. Two cracked ribs and a concussion after last spring's tourny? How about the time you nearly lost your ears 'cause you'd forgotten your headgear? Shall I go on?"

"Uh, no, I get the picture. Wait, you were watching me all last year?"

"Well," now she blushed and looked uncomfortable. "Yeah, but I never thought you liked me, I mean, come on! Your best friend is Martin! He could've fixed you up with any girl in school. He knows everyone!"

Li laughed. "But I like you!"

"Why?"

"Because you're the only girl my age shorter than me?" he teased.

She punched him.

"Ow!"

Marie stuck out her tongue. "Oh really? Bet our scrum's still better than yours."

"Well, we have a scrimmage tomorrow, so we'll find out, won't we?" He took her by the hand. "Come on, let's dance!"

"Well, he's definately cute." Rachel said matter-of-factly, leaning over the bathroom sink to check if she had anything in her teeth. Isabelle smiled at her reflection, lightly powdering her already pink cheeks. Her hair was curls in big curls around her face, and all her makeup was pink and gold. Rachel had said she looked like a fairy, and Isabelle was happy with that analogy.

"And he's only been here a day, which means theres a chance he doesn't have a total hard-on for Alhambra already." Isabelle said.

"Cause you know, once they reach that point-"

"As years of going after Cal Syler has taught me." Isabelle frowned at her reflection, applying her lipgloss.

"You really over that?" Rachel said in her "concerned" voice.

"Yeah, I think so. But he always gets lead in the plays and if I end up getting lead...well...you know. Old habits are hard to break. I hate stupid little teenage girl crushes. They're just a waste of time." Isabelle put all her makeup back into her purse. Rachel wrapped her arm around Isabelle's and lead her towards the door of the bathroom.

"Now come on," Rachel said. "I bet Louis is standing out there with his hands in his pockets without a clue of what to do."

Rachel was entirely right and when they got to him he almost jumped in surprise. Then he smiled so large, it almost consumed his face.

"So are you ready to dance with me yet?" Isabelle asked playfully. Louis looked away.

"I don't, well, I can't dance," he said. Just as he said that, the music changed and a slow song blared through the speakers. Isabelle looked towards the dance floor where everyone had begun coupling off and dancing.

"Well, slow dances don't take much know-how. Come on,"

Louis looked down at his shoes. "Okay," he said finally. Isabelle began to walk towards the dance floor but Louis stopped her. "Wait." Isabelle turned back to him. "Isabelle, would you like to dance with me?" he asked.

Isabelle's insides nearly burst with excitement. So he really was a nice guy. A good guy. Who might be genuinely interested in her. She couldn't keep the smile from her face.

"Yes, I would love too."

A Non-Existent User

Jessica took a deep breath, easing herself into place. She stared ahead, mentally preparing herself for the task at hand. There was a moment of stillness, of silence, a quiet thought, then, bam, she was off. Her arms and legs pumped hard as she flew down the track. It was the evening, but they had good lights, to the point where it really didn't matter. She rounded the first curve. Why not go? she asked herself. She rounded the second curve, her legs pumping even more furiously. It would be a waste of time, she answered herself. She rounded the next curve. You don't know that. You've never even been to one. Curve. I've never eaten dogshit either. Curve. This is different. Curve. It's innane, stupid, and immature. Curve. It might be fun. Curve. It won't be fun. Curve. You should try new things. Cruve. For what, the approval of my peers? To be social? I'll put that in the shed with everything else I don't use. Curve. Curve. Curvecurvecurvecurve. Jessica stumbled. There was fire in her lungs and she felt like her heart was sending tremors through her body. She still pushed harder. She stumbled, catching herself before she fell, then slowing to a walk.

The heavy sound of Jessica's breathing was the only noise to penetrate the night air. She wanted to collapse-she had been working out the whole evening-but she forced herself to walk, knowing it would hurt more if she didn't cool down first. She was almost dizzy with fatigue. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead, running down her face to drip onto her tank top. She ran her hand through her short, short hair. It accomplished nothing, her hair was too short to do anything with, but it was force of habit. Jessica made her way to one of the benches, sitting and mopping her brow with a towel. She took some water from her bottle, then squeezed some onto her face. Besides, if I went like this I'd stink up the place.

The walk back to the dorms seemed longer than ever before, and Jessica felt like her aching legs were going to collapse beneath her. She wanted to just collapse into bed, but she forced herself to go through her evening routine. Cleaning herself, reading whatever material she needed to, double-checking her work, and only then would she allow herself the release of sleep. She vaguely wondered when the others would be back.

Alhambra sighed, downing a cup of punch and turning away from Martin to look up at the sky in a vague motion of prayer. Martin hadn't really spoken to her beyond to tell her she looked wonderful when he'd picked her up before the dance. She should've asked him as more than a friend- at least they wouldn't be standing here all awkward, not talking and certainly not dancing. Li and Martin were too busy talking about whatever Li's project for the year was, Li's date Marie was chatting about rugby, and Alhambra was left to stare out at the dance floor with longing.

She'd dressed with care for the dance, hoping that Martin would realize that she had done it for him. Alhambra wasn't quite sure that she really liked him, or even that she felt for him anything beyond friendship, but she knew that she wanted to be beautiful for him. She knew that she wanted to make him stutter, to drool; she wanted to know that she could make him feel like a man when she walked into the room. Alhambra could make any man she wanted turn her way- except Martin. And this was something that unnerved Alhambra. She, like so many other people, wanted what she couldn't have.

Alhambra had worn Marilyn Monroe dress- the one like the picture over the subway grate where Marilyn was holding down her dress. The only difference was that there was a little more cleavage and its lipstick red shade. She'd worn black stilletos and black accessories, worn sultry makeup and dropped her hair from its characteristic braid. Even Li's jaw had dropped to see her, and his eyes had run from Martin back to Alhambra like a tennis match. But Martin had simply smiled, kissed Alhambra's hand and told her that she looked "smashing". And he hadn't paid any attention to her at all. It was awful.

Isabelle walked by on her way to the punch and Alhambra took the opportunity to dig herself out of her stupor. "Isabelle, darling!" Alhambra grinned and caught the girl's attention.

"Alhambra." Isabelle had never much liked Alhambra, though the elder girl had never done anything to deter a friendship. "How was your summer?"

"It was marvelous! I'll have to tell you all about it at the next Drama meeting! Anyway!" Alhambra took a sip of punch. "I have news! Mr. Bale's decided the big shows for the year!" Alhambra tossed her hair over her shoulder and looked for Cal. "Cal! C'mere!" The boy made his way over to the two females. "I was just telling Isabelle that Bale's decided the two big shows for the year."

Cal raised an eyebrow and grinned. "Really? Awesome. What are they?"

"Damn Yankees for the musical and Midsummer Night's Dream for the straight play." Alhambra gauged Isabelle and Cal's reaction.

Isabelle nodded, a small smile finally breaking out on her face. "Midsummer Night's Dream is a good play. I've always wanted to play Titania, myself."

"Mr. Bale actually wanted you to have the part! He said you'd be perfect for it and that he'd tell you the next time he saw you...but you know how I am. When I get excited, I can't keep my mouth shut worth a damn. I think you'd be simply perfect for Titania!"

"What about Damn Yankees? It's not a musical I'm familiar with," Cal interjected, crossing his arms.

Alhambra turned to him. "It's a play with four main characters- two male, two female. The two main characters are actually Joe and Mr. Applegate, with Meg and Lola just under them. Joe is the main character, Mr. Applegate is the devil Joe sells his soul to, Meg is Joe's wife, and Lola is a girl Applegate uses to try to get Joe to fulfill his contract. It's a great, hilarious musical!"

"So the main characters are male?" Isabelle asked. "And the female characters are equal?"

"Yeah, they're kinda foils. Joe ends up staying with Meg and deciding that she's more important than fame. Lola starts out being Applegate's pawn, but ends up setting herself against him to help Joe get back with Meg. I think you'll likely end up with Meg- her songs are really sweet, and you've got such a beautiful voice. And Bale wanted you for Joe, Cal."

Cal grinned, but noticed some of his friends in another corner and excused himself to go join them. Isabelle and Alhambra, once again awkward, mumbled the mechanics of proper behavior and stepped back to their original groups. Martin turned to smile at Alhambra as she joined the group again. "Have fun?"

"Of course. I'd have more if you'd dance with me, though, Martin." Alhambra gave a puppy face and batted her eyebrows. "Please?"

Martin grinned, though a gleam appeared in his eyes that Alhambra had recognized in other men before him. For some reason, it made her heart sing that she'd gotten that kind of reaction out of him. "I'd be honored to, Miss Guiteau."

Generations of Trenchards were sitting on his shoulders, bitching at him for being such a prat; but they shut up when Martin managed to snap himself out of his semi-daze. He'd always known, in an academic sort of way, that Alhambra was majestically stunning - but seeing her dressed up like this had hammered the realisation into the forefront of his brain. But now he actually had to use the damn thing, and the wierd detached mood was going away, leaving him free to play the gentleman.

The backlog of Trenchards approved.

Alhambra was a good dancer. Better than he was. But years of fencing, cadets and various other assorted pastimes had given Martin more than enough coordination to acquit himself well. It wasn't something he especially enjoyed, but looking at Alhambra more than made up for that.

"Are you feeling okay?" She asked, once they'd gotten out on the dancefloor.

"Rarely better."

"You just seemed a bit distracted."

Martin smiled. "Sincere apologies, Miss Guiteau. Could I blame jetlag as an acceptable excuse?"

Alhambra considered this. "Acceptable, yes."

"Glad to hear it." He glanced around the room, before returning his smile to her. "If you don't mind my asking, what possessed you to ask me to this... function?"

"Are you regretting taking me up on the invitation?"

"Nothing could be farther from the truth. I'm just curious."

"Chivalry, Mr Trenchard - sometimes a lady likes to feel appreciated." A not-so-subtle dig at his rude behaviour earlier; Martin at least had the grace to look thoroughly ashamed. Alhambra decided to be nice. "It's a rare treat to meet a real gentleman."

"In England the technical term is 'posh git', but I prefer your phrase."

She laughed at that, and Martin felt inappropriately pleased with himself. Even if he was only here as a friend, it was still him dancing with Alhambra Guiteau. The song ended. "A drink, Miss Guiteau?"

"I'd love one."

Martin passed her a glass of punch before getting himself one as well. Tasting it, he frowned slightly. "Peculiar. Entirely non-alcoholic."

"Americans," Alhambra said dismissively. "Afraid of anything that might be fun." She smiled widely as the next song started. "Oh, I love this song - come on!"

Abandoning the sad, unintoxicating punch, they returned to the dancefloor.

The dance floor had cleared out, and the songs has stopped playing from the stage. Most people had already poured out of the hall into the main lobby, where teachers were shuffling them back to their dormatories. A few, well-established couples, were still holding eachother alone on the empty floor.

"So how are you liking Trinity so far?" Isabelle asked him as they walked through the doors.

"I think I'm liking it a lot," Louis replied sheepishly. He felt his cheeks get hot almost as soon as he said it, seeing Isabelle's smile only confirmed the fact that she knew by it he was referring to her. Even after all the dancing and laughing, while other girls walked past them with their faces sweaty and tired, Isabelle looked as beautiful as the first moment Louis had seen her.

"Time to go up to your rooms! Chop Chop!" A tall, frail woman was standing in the middle of the main lobby and guiding boys to the right and girls to the left. Couples and pairs were sadly parting ways in front of and behind her. It was strangely like Moses parting an unwilling red sea.

"Well, I hope that you'll be in some of my classes." Isabelle said once they had gotten close enough to the woman. Louis really hoped so too, but didn't say so out loud. Isabelle walked away, and Louis watched her walk. Even the way she walked, like she knew the world was watching her, was amazing. Louis could almost feel himself falling for this girl he hardly knew anything about.

He walked back to his dorm room in a daze. He was already in his night clothes when the door open and Li walked in, seemingly in a daze as well.

"Good night?" Louis asked him. Li nodded, smiling broadly.

"Girls, aren't they the greatest creation that's ever been bestowed on such lowly creatures?" He sat down on the bed, laying back. Louis laughed, but inside he was agreeing whole-hearted. Li sat back up. "So you? Did you have a-good-time?"

"Yes. I met a girl," Louis jumped on the opportunity to tell Li all about Isabelle. He seemed genuinely happy for Louis.

"Really? What's her name? I'm sure I know her if she's in our grade."

"Isabelle"

Li's face dropped and he started to frown.

"Isabelle Archer?"

"Yes, why?" Louis could already feel his heart pounding harder.

"Well, you know that girl Alhambra, the senior that everyone wants? Well, let's say Isabelle's like her little sister. Everyone who isn't after Alhambra is after Isabelle, and neither have been famous for accepting advances from the opposite gender. Plus, there's always been rumors that Isabelle is completely in love with Cal Syler, the drama, all-American guy." Li shook his head.

Louis felt his stomach sink. He had to have Isabelle. He would do anything it took.

"So she's in the plays a lot, I know that. So, I'll just have to be in the play. Right?" Louis looked at Li hopefully. Li shrugged.

"It's worth a shot."

Cal stalked away to his dorm, downtrodden and miserable. Why was he like this? Well, other than the fact that he almost always was, he had had another unsuccessful night at trying to find someone for himself. It was nerve-wrecking. If only he had asked someone, he might have gotten a yes.

But he was not that way. He couldn't just ask a girl, regardless of how much he liked her, straight out on short notice. But no one else had a problem. A few of the girls had tried to get with him, but most of them were pretty slutty, so Cal ignored most of them.

Cal was a bit smitten with Alhambra, but there were two problems. One: if he were to make that attempt, he would be just like every other guy in this school, which is not what Cal wanted.

Two: she seemed to be highly attached to that Martin Trenchard fellow. And he wanted to see Alhambra happy with whoever she chose.

Another problem was the rumor that Isabelle Archer was completely infatuated with him. Whether or not that was true remained to be seen. Oh, well, Cal thought. He'd have to figure all that out later.

Right now, it was bedtime.

Saturday morning found Li at the rugby pitch at the crack of dawn, yawning along with all the others, on both teams. The social had shut down at eleven, with all the students to bed by midnight, but still, the first week of school, everyone was still adjusting; some jet-lag real, and some not.

Assistant Coach Carter organized warm-ups and stretching and Coach Biggs gathered everyone around for a last-minute talk before the first scrimmage of the season.

"Now, boys," he started, looking at the young men in their practice jerseys of plain black, "I want to see all the plays from the playbook, letter-perfect. I know you all received it this summer, so let's see what you remember. Play safe, but don't let these girls run all over you."

The girls giggled and he scowled, amused, at their cheery faces. The girls had on their practice jerseys, solid red.

"And girls, let's not forget there's other boys besides Li to tackle."

Li groaned as the others laughed and he received some good-hearted slaps on the back. It never failed that, being the smallest on the boy's side, that made him an enticing target to the girls. Against other boys' teams he could get away with murder, but these girls always wanted to try out their tackling on him.

"All right," continued the coach. "We've got a lot of rookies this year, so we'll start with uncontested scrums and go from there. This is just a fun match, to see what we'll need to work on in the next few weeks to get ready for our opening match. Drew, Nikki, call it."

The two scrum-halfs called out their choices as the coach flipped a coin. Girls won. They elected to receive the kick-off. Both sides lined up and readied for the first drive. Li bounced a little on his toes as he waited. He felt the same heart-pounding excitement he always did, and his heart beat a little more wildly when he saw Marie across the pitch grinning at him.

They played twenty minute halfs, about half a normal game, and with a minute-long water break after the first ten minutes. It didn't take long for the boys to get over their awkwardness when tackling the girls they played against and, sure enough, by half-time, Li had hit the ground more than anyone else. He was bruised in a dozen places and covered in dirt, but he grinned happily and hummed to himself. This was the only physical sport he knew of where 120-pound weaklings like himself could and did fight for turf alongside 6 ft tall, 300-pound giants.

In the last quarter of the game, the girls led by four points and the boys decided to chance what they called Li's Play. This was an effective tactic against other boys' teams but rarely worked against their girls, and for a couple reasons. First, they knew of the play and loved to see it against other teams, and secondly because they just liked to tackle him too much. They watched for him to erupt from behind the scrum and pounced. It was rather entertaining for the boys to see Li get pelted time after time, but annoying, too, that they couldn't use their most successful ploy.

Still, Drew wanted to try it. He knew that the coach was looking for it and he hoped that by waiting until most of the way through the game that the girls might have forgotten it or assumed they weren't going to try it. That, and Drew was desperate to score again. He didn't want his first year as Team Captain to start with a loss to the girls.

Li heard the call with some surprise and could barely contain his excitement. After he pulled out of the scrum, he sprinted behind his two props, using them for cover against the girls. They raced towards a hole in the backs' line and waited to receive the ball. At the last minute, Li dashed from behind the two larger boys, intercepted the ball, and pelted as fast as he could towards the goal line. They were close and he put in another burst of speed to escape Jackie, the girls' fly-half, someone who had tackled him four times already.

He caught a glimpse of someone coming at him from the other side and weaved desperately. One of the girls caught an ankle and he tripped forward, pushing off with his other foot to half-leap, half fall to the ground. The other boys cheered as he jumped up.

"I got a try! I got a try!" he yelled happily. "We win!"

Marie stuck out her tongue at him as he jogged back off up the field.

The last few minutes of the scrimmage passed quickly and Coach Carter released them for the day. Li walked back to the dorms with his two props, discussing tactics. He clumped up the stairs and into his room, grabbing his things for a shower.

"Hey, Louis," he asked cheerfully, "you going to lounge about in bed all day?"

Louis opened a groggy eye. "Li," he said. "It's ten a.m. It's Saturday. Do you always get up this early?"

"I scored a try!" he replied, still giddy. "I didn't score all summer. This is great!"

Louis groaned and buried his head under his pillow. Li grinned and headed for the showers.

Saturday was club and sports day. That meant that Rachel had woken up at nearly dawn to run through every basketball and softball and any other ball practice she was attached to. It also meant that Isabelle was struggling to pull her wil hair into a bun and slip on her sweatpants for dance team. She would have only ten minutes after dance team was finished to shower and go to debate team, then fifteen minutes before student government, then twenty minutes after that to make it to the other side of the school for film society. It was a hectice life, Isabelle knew, but she wouldn't have it any other way.

The dance team was in the performing arts wing of Trinity and was mostly full of awkward girls who had wanted to be on dance team in middle school but didn't get the chance. At Trinity, academics took a large backseat to performing arts, especially dance, so rarely were there people who actually knew what they were doing.

This meant that Isabelle was the star, and she liked it that way. She'd grown up dancing, everything from tap to jazz to spanish flamenco dancing since she was three and had been rather downtrodden when she'd found out about the low calibur of the Trinity dance team. But their instructor was amazing, a former Miss Arizona, and one of the best dancers Isabelle had ever laid eyes on. She loved Isabelle, and often called her "my little sister".

Isabelle walked into the hall and was greeted by Jessi Cartmen, the only other girl on dance team with any real potential. She was a gossip, a sophomore at that, and absolutely worshiped Isabelle. She was a pretty enough girl, and with a bit of work Isabelle thought that she could be the one to take over after Isabelle graduated.

"Isabelle, so put the rumors to rest, what exactly happened between you and Bailey Rodriguez?" Jessi said enthusiasticly. Isabelle set her jazz shoes in front of the mirror and turned to Jessi, setting her hands on her hips.

"Same thing that happens with all the boys, Jessi," she said. She waved her hand dramatically. "They come, they try, and they fail miserably." Jessi laughed whole-heartedly and Isabelle smiled to herself. These girls were so easy to please.

A Non-Existent User

Jessica had a grin on her face as the game began to clear. Her shoulders rose an fell in the effort to breathe as she stood on the soccer field. "Take it easy, Thrace," a member of the dispersing crowd called out to her.

"Yeah, yeah," she called back, "Just be prepared next time, when we whup you something fierce." The other kid just laughed, and Jessica walked the other way off the field. One of the girls who had been on her team fell in step beside Jessica.

"I think the rugby game is still going on," she said, "I'm going to go watch."

The girl was someone with whom Jessica had played a hundred times, but she still didn't know the girl's name. "Er, I don't know. Li tried to explain the rules to me once, and it didn't really sound like my kind of game. He just kept talking about prostitutes, medival weaopnry, and set design, and, while that sounds like great fun and all, I'm not sure if it's for me. Anyways, I want to go shower off." The two girls said their goodbyes and walked off separately, Jessica heading for the buildings.

Just as Jessica was finishing up, Isabelle rushed in, straight from her dance lessons. "You'd better get a move on," Jessica shouted at her, "It won't be as much fun if me and Alhambra just beat your partner. I want to see the look on your face when your team goes down anyways."

"Whatever you say, Jessica," Isabelle shouted back, "You're good at talking, but that's about it."

Jessica slipped on her baggy t-shirt and baggy shorts, then slipped into her shoes. "So," Isabelle shouted over the sound of the spray, "I didn't see you at the social."

Sitting back in her own alcove, Jessica answered, "That's most likely because I wasn't there."

"I know you weren't there, but, I mean, why not?"

"Why should I go? It isn't as if any of the guys here are exactly grade A material. Anyways, it's supervised."

"I don't know. That new guy is kinda cute."

"There's a new guy?" Jessica said idly, "How does one keep track of these things?" Jessica stood, picking up her sweaty clothes for the laundry. "Well, see you on the debate trail. Or, whatever metaphor might be suitable."

Butterflies fluttered in Alhambra's stomache, dancing as she prepared her cards for the upcoming debate with Isabelle and her partner. Alhambra's advantage was solid- anything about the Euro and the EU was hers from experience. These Americans knew nothing of how the Euro could affect their world. If the other team was smart, they'd play on the idea of economic strength and preventing any one European nation from becoming too powerful and acting against the Americans. Appeal to the audience's fear. Of course, Alhambra could counter any argument by maximizing American fear of a multilateral, multinational coalition of European nations pitted against them.

Frankly, Alhambra wasn't sure about joining the EU, but she had to admit that it had helped the French economy quite a bit. From an English persepective, it was a horrible idea. England had always held itself an arm's length from Europe- joining the EU had already lessened London's power enough, placing English sovereignty below that of English-ness. The Hague had ultimate authority now, though Westminster had enacted several laws in order to recentralize their power.

Asking Englishmen about the Euro was opening a can of worms. Alhambra had gotten answers from "it would ruin the marcoeconomic cycles, thus sending The City crashing to the ground" to "it would mean the Queen wouldn't be on the money anymore". Some had patriotic reasons, some political, some economic- but Alhambra hadn't found anyone who supported the change. And that's how she would argue. Globalization had drawn everyone together, weakening distances and tearing at borders, but social nations were still a viable truth. Nationalism and Patriostism would win in the face of fear for an American identity being lost within a Globalized entity. Alhambra knew she would win, but that certainly didn't mean she wasn't nervous.

"Hey Alhambra! Don't you look extra nice today?" Jessica thumped into the chair next to her, nodding in thanks as Alhambra handed her the initial argument cards, neatly printed and in perfect order.

"One should always look one's best. Especially during the first debate. It lends a sense of professionalism to everything and we're more smart-looking." Alhambra had dressed in her favorite Armani suit that morning- nothing too fancy, but nice enough that she was definitely impressive. "Ready to read?"

Jessica nodded. "Definitely. Isabelle challenged my place and skill on this team. I plan on showing her a thing or two."

Laughing, Alhambra wrote out some defense cars, thinking of some of the likely challenges and rebutting them. She refused to be caught off guard during a debate- it was too embarrassing to be tricked when thorough research is all that was required to do well. "We'll make sure she feels badly about insulting your honor, Jessica dear."

"Damn straight we will." Jessica read through teh cards. "I heard you went to the social last night with Martin and outclassed every girl in the place."

Alhambra nodded, not looking up from the cards, but smiling softly. "Only because you weren't there to show me up, Jess. Where were you?"

"It wasn't something that sounded all that fun. You know I don't go to the socials at this place. All supervised. I bet the punch wasn't even spiked."

"Definitely not. Too afraid of administration, I guess. You would've done it for us, I know, but since you weren't there, we were alcohol-free all night." Alhambra heaved a dramatic sigh. "It was very disappointing."

Jessica finished reading the cards and looked up as Isabelle and her partner, Natalie, walked into the room and headed for the table across the room from where Jessica and Alhambra sat. "Did you do anything with him?"

"Whom?"

"Martin, of course! Did you two go back and have some fun? You know he's in love with you. All the boys are."

Alhambra looked up sharply, shocked that Jessica had said that Martin had feelings of any romantic inclination. "What? Of course not. He doesn't feel like that about me. In fact, I think he's the only one. It's why I asked him. But we just went as friends."

"Well, having some fun doesn't necessarily mean that you can't be friends. God, I'd hate to go so long without an orgasm. In fact, I think I might go nuts." Jessica got quiet then, and Alhambra couldn't reply, because Professor Langdon had just walked into the classroom.

"Good morning, everyone. Debate teams, have you prepared yourselves?" Both teams nodded. "Well then, England you may begin."

The debate was on.

*****

"God, we were awesome!" Jessica and Alhambra headed out of the classroom two hours later, having earned full marks and most of the votes in the issue. The other team had also won full marks, but hadn't played on American fears of a multilateral front against them as Alhambra had expected, which had lost them the vote. But marks were what mattered in debate and both teams had done perfectly.

"Of course it was. You read wonderfully and I kept the facts coming. It helps that I'm French, of course. But we all did well. Full marks all around."

Jessica laughed. "But we won. So that added a nice touch, of course. Anyway, where are you off to now?"

"Newspaper. I've got a meeting with Martin about the first edition of the paper coming out soon. He's got me as second-in-command nowadays and asks me about layout and all that. Men. Can't make up their minds about anything, can they?"

"Hell no," Jessica replied, heading off down another hall and toward the dining room. "I'll see you later, Alhambra."

"See you, Jess!"

*****

"Martin, my love, how are you doing this fine afternoon." Alhambra walked in and tossed her hair over her shoulder, appreciating the way Martin's eyes glazed slightly and the dopey smile on his face. He'd never shown her attention, but that didn't mean that Martin didn't know that she was beautiful. You didn't have to be in love with someone to appreciate their good looks. And that's how it was with Martin. "You look harried."

Martin stood and smiled at Alhambra, allowing her to kiss him on both cheeks and returning greeting with a kiss on her hand. "Alhambra. You grow lovlier by the day. It makes me feel better to see you. I'm having a devil of a time trying to figure out how to format this edition. I don't know if I want to leave the layout the same as last year or change it to something new."

"Well, what different ideas do you have? Aside from last years, of course, which I know full well." Alhambra leaned into Martin, looking over his shoulder as he sat at the editor's desk and scanning the different layout plans. It was quite solid in Alhambra's head that she had, over the course of five years, fallen quite head-over-heels in love with the Brit. And knowing it gave her a sense of warmth and completion; yearning for someone was a great feeling, and Alhambra hadn't felt it for a long time.

Martin was possibly the last person Alhambra had thought she would fall for. He wasn't as good looking as what she considered "her type" and definitely followed the rules a little too much. And he was British. She's always thought she'd go for a French football player- tall, slender, athletic, and completely beautiful. Possibly with long hair and definitely with cerulean eyes. And Alhambra had known she could get one. Pretty much any one, actually. But she had, instead, found herself falling for perfectly average Martin. And, over time, he had become possibly the handsomest man in Alhambra's life. It was crazy.

But it was something that Alhambra relished in. If only she could get him to feel the same about her. Which could take a lot of work.

"I like this one," Alhambra said, pointing at a simple layout with a beautiful header font and a symmetrical pattern. "It's very stylish."

Martin smiled. "I was just thinking that, Miss Guiteau. I believe you've had a bad influence on me in this newspaper. I feel like I have no say anymore because I always go for what you like, anyway."

Alhambra laughed. "That's because what I want is what's best, silly. You should know that by now."

"Forgive me, Miss Guiteau. How could I have forgotten?"

"I'm not sure. But I forgive you." Alhambra reached out and chucked Martin under the chin. "Who could stay mad at that face?"

"My mother," Martin replied, leaning out of her reach. "English ladies are ferocious."

"No wonder they have all English gents so well trained." She shuffled the pile of plans aside, wondering if this year he'd manage to outdo last year's feat of messiness - working on the floor much of the time. "Start of year editorial coming along nicely?"

"Not so much," Martin replied, discreetly tugging the heap back out of order.

He didn't like working at a neat desk. It felt {i]wrong to write on paper laid on bare wood, without layers of other work and doodles and notes cushioning it underneath. But on the plus side Alhambra Guiteau is right at this moment leaning against your back, you lucky bastard, so stop whining that she's only there to tidy your desk. Picking up a pen, he twirled it idly around his fingers as he stared at the sheet of note-paper he'd optimistically headed 'Editorial The First!'

"Something about the social?" Lucille chimed in quietly from across the room. The paper's agony aunt, she also wrote a gossip column - two functions Martin privately felt his paper could do splendidly without, but she was friendly enough, even if her preference for scandal over real news got irksome at times.

"Hmm..." he sought for a way to turn the idea down without being in any way, shape or form impolite. "Possibly... there isn't a great deal else that's actually happened, to be honest. This term has failed to start with any appreciable bangs." An idea ocurred as he thought back to that evening. "Actually, that's a good idea - a strongly-worded editorial on the benefits of alcoholic punch."

Remembering their shared disgust, Alhambra laughed, and again the inane grin spread across Martin's face. "In Praise of Pubs?" He wondered aloud, waving his pen. "A Toast to Tipples!"

"Vive le Vin!" Alhambra offered.

"Wunder- no, wunderbier."

"Dreaming of Drinking..."

"Please, Miss Guiteau, I'm not entirely lost to alcoholism. Besides, it'll sadly remain illegal." He shook his head.

"You have to write about something. May as well be that. Who knows? You might spark off some interesting controversy."

"Bloody flame-war's more likely, but I'm sold on the idea."

Alhambra laughed again. "I'll leave you to it, then, but expect a story before too long."

"Oh, I do - you're possibly the one writer I can expect things of and not be disappointed. Could I trouble you for help with the crossword again, as well?"

"Naturally. Good day, Mr Trenchard."

"It is now, Miss Guiteau." Martin stood up and bowed her out of the room, remaining standing for a few minutes, staring at the door that'd swung shut behind her, until a discreet cough from Lucille broke him from his reverie. He'd entirely forgotten she was there.

"She's really got a thing for you, you know," the younger girl said confidentially.

Martin sat down heavily, the implication slowly permeating his brain. "Pardon me?"

"Alhambra. She really likes you. Can't you tell? Man, you must be super-oblivious."

"I am Captain Oblivious," he muttered in agreement. "What, really?"

"Yeah really! Go on, ask her out before I have to discreetly work it into one of my columns. Let's see - Romance In The Minerva Office?"

"Needs more alliteration," the editor answered.

Louis wiped the chlorine from his lean muscles. His hair was stuck to the sides of his face and every inch of him felt alive and awake. Swimming make him feel better than anything else in his life, and the fact that his talents had been reinforced by Trinity's swim coach made him feel all the better.
"Good job new kid," A fierce hand slapped Louis on his bare back. He jumped aroung, tying his drawstring pants up.
"Thanks," Louis said slowly.
"Bailey Rodriguez, I'm captain of this here swim team." The boy was of the tall, dark, and handsome nature, with piercing brown eyes and slick dark hair. "I also happen to be the captain for soccer lacrosse and baseball," Bailey added with a wink. Louis nearly hurled at the sound of it.
"I swim," Louis replied. Bailey nodded slowly.
"So how are you liking it here at Trinity?" he asked.
"I'm liking it alright,"
"So, how are you liking the pickings?"
Louis stared blankly.
"The girls, man, the girls!"
Louis thought for a moment about keeping his overly-entusiastic infatuation with Isabelle a secret, but it seemed that everyone at Trinity knew everyone else. And with a girl like Isabelle, he was sure that everyone at the school knew anyone coming into contact with her would find her attractive. But he decided to keep it casual with this boy he hardly knew, so as to avoid the look Li had given him.
"That junior Isabelle, she seems really-" Louis stopped short because of the look on Bailey's face.
"Good luck with that, buddy." Bailey said. Louis said nothing. Bailey seemed to think that this meant Louis wanted more information. He leaned in closer. "She's a tease. She asks like she wants you and then right when you think your getting in-ckk" Bailey slapped his hand. "Nothing." he said. Louis laughed. Bailey stepped back. "You do what you want," he said. Louis slipped on his shirt and walked out of the locker room, still laughing.

------------

Louis was walking back toward his dorm, looking down at the government book in his hand, when someone ran into him. Louis looked up, trying to mumble out a "sorry". Isabelle was standing directly in front of him. Her hair was all around her face and she was breathing heavily.
"I'm sorry Louis!" She said, placing her hand on his shoulder. Louis felt a shudder go through his body.
"Its okay," he said.
"I have film society in like, three minutes. I'm so sorry I'm just running like crazy all day. I really can't talk."
"That's okay."
"Hey, tonights the start of term banquet. You now, everyone puts on their sunday best and we have dinner and the dean talks to us about our mission and whatnot. Anyway, we get to sit wherever and do you maybe want to sit at our table? It'll give us a chance to get to know each other more," Isabelle was smiling at him, and every second felt harder to remain sane.
"That sounds great," Louis said. Isabelle patted his shoulder.
"Then I'll see you then. But I really have to go because my meeting just started. So," Isabelle was already half way down the hall. "I'll see you later Louis!"
Louis watched her walk away. His chest was getting tighter. He needed to shower.

Cal jumped out of bed pouring sweat, and looked at his clock. It was three o'clock in the morning, and Cal couldn't believe he still couldn't sleep. Ugh, he thought. He got up, careful not to wake his roommates.

He slipped out of the door on his way to the bathroom. He didn't have to go, he just needed somewhere besides his dorm to pace. After all, he didn't want to bother his two roomies. So he found the bathroom the most private place to go.

On his way there, he bumped into Jessica Thrace.

"Watch where you're going, jock head!" she tried to chastise him.

"Listen, it's 3 in the morning, I can't sleep, and I'm just trying to get to the bathroom. Can you not be a bitch to me for one night so I can accomplish this one thing?"

She quickly shut up and let him by, actually smiling friendly at his outburst. Cal let it go and proceeded on his way.

It was Sunday. After his morning run, there was church, a good breakfast, and then Li settled down with his books for some good, hard studying.

There'd been plenty of time on Saturday to meet with the rest of the math club, and he'd hung out with them far longer than he'd intended to, but Mr Dahl was so pumped this year about the Math Olympiad that he'd infected everyone else with his enthusiasm. It would be a long, hard road towards the competition, with local, state, regionals, and national competitions to pave the way to the international match. This year, Greece was hosting. Last year, they'd just barely been beaten out at Regional and this year, Mr Dahl wanted them to go all the way.

Not that anyone was really against the idea. They'd be putting forward two teams of six, with two alternates each. They'd be competing against each other to see who got to be on which team. And they'd have to step up their fundraising activities, too, in order to collect the money they'd need to go to Greece.

But with a sigh, Li pushed thoughts of grandeur and glory from his head and glared at his english book. They were reading "Hard Times" by Charles Dickens and it was possibly the most boring book he'd ever picked up. English was really not his strong point, either. Maybe he'd just ask Martin to sum it up for him later ....

No, that was no good, Martin would probably rather die than help him cheat at English. Or anything else, for that matter. Too bad. But, at least it was only reading for now. And Martin would review his essay - there was sure to be an essay, unfortunately.

This year was going to be tough. First off was AP English with Ms Strickland, probably the worst combination for first thing in the morning ever, but at least he got to go to AP Calculus after that. And then there was AP Physics! Ah, physics, his absolute favorite class already. Mr Ennis was great fun and it was obvious that he loved physics, too. Then there was lunch, followed by CAD. Li wasn't exactly sure why he'd picked that for his elective, but what the heck, why not try something new? Then he finished the day with History and then Spanish 3 last.

Then of course was Rugby practice. They practiced hard Tues/Thurs and worked out in the weight room Mon/Wed/Fri. Saturday was either a long practice or a game, and Sunday they all got together to run.

This was going to be a tough first semester.

But tonight, ah, tonight was the start of term banquet. Li could just picture all the fantastic food! BBQ chicken and juicy steaks, potatoes and creamed corn, lasagna, honeyed carrots, whole, roasted ears of corn, pudding, and tons of other, totally American foods that his mother wouldn't dream of letting on the table at home. And for dessert! Cakes and pie and cookies and lots of other, totally unhealthy foods that he only ever got once or twice a year.

"Yo, Li," called Louis, startling him out of his daydream. "Where you been all day?"

He shrugged, surreptitiously wiping away some drool. "Oh, around." He grinned. "Trying to avoid all this homework I've got."

Louis groaned. "Man, don't I know it! How're you making out on that Dickens book?"

"Terrible. I hate english. I can't believe I let Rathbourne talk me into taking Strickland's class."

Louis laughed. "He's your counselor, too?"

"Yeah, the guy just doesn't understand the meaning of 'no.'"

"But, hey, isn't Marie in our class, too?"

Li perked up. "Yeah, that's right! I bet she's read this book all ready! I wonder if she'd give me a quick summary?"

"I don't know, Li, I've heard that Strickland's tests are grueling. I've heard she calls on people in class and makes them dissect the readings. With imagery and symbolism and everything."

Li groaned. "Ugh, not symbolism! I hate that! Why can't an umbrella just be an umbrella? Why does it have to mean shelter and security and all that stuff? And why can't we ever read something fun? Like the Three Musketeers or Dune, or, ooh, I know, Star Wars! That book has loads of symbolism!"

Louis laughed. "What? And forgo the pleasure of seeing us squirm through Lord of the Flies and Shakespeare? I think not!"

They laughed for a few minutes and then faded off into silence. Li sighed as he stared at his book. "Well, I guess there's nothing for it, but to just read the darned thing."

"Think positive," said Louis. "We get to feast tonight!"

"Yeah ...!"

Isabelle walked through the doors of the hall, listening to her heels click on the floor. She could feel her mascara running down her cheeks. Bailey's latest girl-doll had confronted her in the bathroom, declaring loudly for all other girls around to hear that Isabelle had promised Bailey sex if he just took her out a few times so that people could see them together.

That, of course, was a total lie. Isabelle had gone out a couple times with Bailey and once she realized what he was truly interested in she told him it just wasn't going to work. But not many people knew Isabelle, or knew what she was about. They only knew that a lot of boys persued her, and most of them fell short. A lot of gossip was bound to come up.

Isabelle had left the banquet in tears. Rachel had tried to follow her but Isabelle had taken a weird turn and lost her. She wondered how many people had seen her pitiful, tear-stained face. Isabelle cared what people thought of her, as sad as it was. It was what she had made her entire life out of. Her reputation was everything to her. Isabelle fell back on the spiral stairs that led up to the science wing. She was wearing a slightly short babydoll dress on her small slim frame and her hair was up in a sloppy french twist. She stared at her feet through her teary eyes.

She was going to show them. She was going to show all of them who she was and what she was about. She was going to stop being picked up and dumped by boys who really only persued her because they wanted to be the one to finally get into Isabelle Archer's pants. She was going to pick up and dump them. She was going to own herself and anyone who came in contact with her.

Isabelle Archer was going to show Triniy just how powerful she was.

Alhambra wasn't sure why Isabelle had stormed out of the bathroom and into the hallway, but the obnoxious gaggle of some of the girl's younger degenerates that stood giggling in Isabelle's wake was probably a pretty good indication that something had happened. Something that Alhambra had deemed "The Trinity Game"- something worthy of gossipmongering and immature squabbling for power. From almost the instant she had entered the school her first year, Alhambra had been queen bee of her class, and as she had gotten older, she'd become, quite effortlessly, queen bee of the school. She'd never had to deal with power squabbles and, as such, looked down upon them as cheap and horribly indicative of improper upbringing.

Entering the bathroom, Alhambra glared down at the younger girls, particularly at the diminuative slip of a girl that had obviously perpetrated the incident. She sidled past them, giving a disgusted snort as she washed her hands and fixed her make-up. The banquet was only semi-formal, but she'd chosen to wear a floor-length satin gown in royal purple; something that hugged all the right parts and created a delicious amount of ample cleavage. Furthermore, she'd taken the scarf that had come as a complimentary shoulder wrap and woven it through a rather intricate mass of hair atop her head.

In cast anyone didn't know Alhambra was queen of Trinity, she'd made sure it was apparent with her (admittedly unescorted) entrance into the ballroom. Conversation had stopped for a moment before boys had begun to nudge one another and tell their younger counterparts of Alhambra's beauty, and all the girls had whispered with green-eyed envy into one another's ears. Now, standing in the bathroom and reapplying the bordeaux lipstick she'd chosen that evening, Alhambra played on her power. "You girls haven't been messing around with Isabelle Archer, have you? No rumours, I trust?"

"What's that to you?" The one who stylized herself as the leader stepped forward, tossing her blonde locks over one shoulder and thrusting her hip out in an impertinent challenge. Alhambra didn't answer right away, instead blotting her lips with infinite care and brushing an errant lock of hair out of her eyes before turning around to smile at the cluster of Trinity's worst. The blonde was Bailey's latest femme-bot and Alhambra raised her eyebrow at her. Clearly, she'd said something to do with Isabelle and Bailey's rather short relationship.

"Oh, my dear," Alhambra said, her voice dripping sacchrine sweet with cruelty, "I take a great interest in the well-being of those whom I care about. And, see, I've been in Drama with Isabelle the entire time she's been at Trinity, so I care a whole lot more about her than I do for you. Now, that young lady just ran out of her looking very upset and I can only assume that you fine young ladies were the cause of that emotional disturbance. As such, the logical progression leads me to tear you girls apart."

The toothpick laughed, though none of her compatriots seemed to find the situation funny. They'd been at Trinity long enough to know the power that Alhambra wielded and knew her threats were perfectly legitimate. "What exactly can you do to me, hmm?"

"Psst...Misty, that's Alhambra. You don't want to know what she can do to you. She could have Bailey waiting at her hand and foot if she wanted and there'd be nothing that you could do about it." The blonde, Misty as she seemed to be called, gave a small, conciliatory smile, which Alhambra didn't return.

"Now, I can only assume that Isabelle has something planned for you fine ladies and, possibly, for a lot more, so I'm going to leave you be and let her take her own revenge. And believe me, she's just as good at it as I am. Possibly better." Alhambra gave one last look at herself in the mirror and excused herself from the bathroom. "Oh," she said, just before walking out the door, "I wouldn't try anything against me, Misty. No one would believe a little second-year over me."

Alhambra smiled as she walked out. She hoped Isabelle was alright, wherever she was. The girl had never much warmed up to her, but Alhambra had harbored some small affection for her over the years and no one messed with someone Alhambra Guiteau cared about. Ever.

Slipping into the banquet hall, Alhambra noticed that Martin had arrived. He, as editor of the paper, had to spend the first half of the banquet greeting the important guests that had all congregated at the front of the hall and had only just sat himself at Alhambra's table. Dressed smartly as always, Martin had dawned a traditional black suit, but paired it with a shirt rather similar in color to the dress Alhambra had worn that evening. Scooting her eyes to Lucille, Alhambra saw that the girl was smiling and looking rather pleased with herself. "Playing matchmaker again," Alhambra muttered to herself, though she quite hoped the girl would be successful in her endeavors for once.

"Hello Martin," Alhambra said, coming up to the table and getting the boy's attention. "Aren't you looking marvelous this evening? What a lovely shade of purple."

Martin spun around and stared for a moment, his mouth hanging open slightly as his eyes ran up and down Alhambra's body. Li gave a cough and elbowed Martin in the ribs, which snapped Martin back to attention. "Oh, yes," the Brit said, standing and pulling Alhambra's chair back for her. "Good evening, Miss Guiteau. You look..." Alhambra sat down, giving Martin a perfect view of her cleavage, "uh...Alhambra, you look...simply...marvelous. Yes, you look marvelous. That is a lovely dress on you."

Alhambra raised an eyebrow. "Ever the gentleman," she said, smiling as Martin sat down next to her. "Though slightly more impressed with my attire than usual, I feel. Usually you're so direct and formal." It was true. Alhambra had never seen Martin so flustered. She felt her stomche turn a little, hoping that Lucille hadn't said anything that would make Martin uncomfortable. The girl had the habit of knowing and saying too much for her own good.

"Yes, well, Alhambra, I don't believe I've ever seen you in a dress that's so..."

Alhambra laughed. "Low cut, Martin? Yes, I am feeling rather devilishly sexy tonight. I don't see why a banquet dress must be so stiff and hideous. I rather feel the breasts need to breathe." Reaching out to have a piece of bread, Alhambra put it to her mouth slowly, concious of the effect she was having on Martin and enjoying it more than she had ever enjoyed having a man find her attractive. After swallowing, she smiled and spoke again. "You are allowed to be impressed with my breasts tonight, Martin. I wore the dress to show them off. It would only be gentlemanly to compliment them."

A peculiar dream, evidently - having absurdly sexy young ladies practically demand that he inspect their breasts wasn't something Martin was used to. Neither was it a demand he was in any mood to turn down. After all, she'd invoked the 'gentleman' card.

"Given that I strive always to be a gentleman, you must please forgive me if I find myself a little, ah, distracted this evening. Lovely though your face is, those are indeed a magnificent pair of mammaries. Were I wearing a hat, I would not be, on account of I would've taken it off to them."

Martin knew he was babbling, but Alhambra didn't seem to mind. Maybe Lucille was right? She'd sent so many significant glances his way when Alhambra had entered that he was surprised she wasn't suffering eyeball fatigue. It was only a relief that he'd already done all the welcoming and politeness he was expected to do - playing the charming host with that cleavage around would have stretched even his considerable skills.

"Why thank you."

"Not at all. It was truly my pleasure. May I pass you some grapes? They're really rather delicious."

Busy thanking whatever gods may be around that he'd had the right kind of training with which to properly dote upon Alhambra in this kind of situation, Martin barely noticed the whisper, the undercurrent, the stir. Not that he would have found it easy to notice a man with an airhorn standing behind him, given the current circumstances. When eventually it permeated his brain, the cause had become clear - Isabelle Archer, re-entering. He'd seen her leave earlier; now he knew, he was right, she had been crying. Since her flight, though, she'd tidied herself up, and injected a kind of pride and anger into her bearing that made him instinctively want to apologise for being male. It was obvious that her reddened eyes had until recently been fountaining tears, but now they were bright only with determination and the pride of her entrance.

"Oh dear," Alhambra said quietly. "Prepare for fireworks."

"Captain Oblivious, remember? Fireworks of what form and description?"

A covert nod was all it took - people were melting out of Isabelle's way, leaving her a clear path to the object of her revenge. A boy Martin didn't know very well, but couldn't help but sympathise with.

"I think we may need a priest," he murmured back. "Extreme Unction for Bailey over there..."

"Shh, this is better than the theatre, I want to watch."

Louis was sitting almost alone at the seemingly enormous round table. After seeing Isabelle run out of the room in tears, Rachel running after her, it was only him and three other students he didn't know at all. Rachel had returned, sitting with a red face and breathing heavily.

Now, Isabelle was walking back in, and her eyes were red from crying. Louis figited in his seat, unsure of what he should be doing. He only knew that seeing Isabelle was so upset made him upset, and he wanted to do something bad to whoever had made her upset.

The night had been going well, he had thought. He was almost beginning to believe he might have a chance with Isabelle. Now she was walking with a determined face towards Bailey Rodriguez. When she stopped in front of him, her hand on her hip, nearly the entire hall fell silent. Bailey looked her up and down, his eyes and face not even attempting to conceal his pig-headedness.

Louis wanted to hear them. He was sure everyone else wanted to hear them too. He looked at Rachel, her eyes were wide with fear. His stomach was turning over. They both seemed to be talking under their breath. Suddenly, with a sharp raise of her hand, Isabelle had slapped Bailey across his face. Gasps echoed around them. Without hesitation, Isabelle's voice rang out.

"Now lets get one thing straight. You went after me, I dumped you. I don't miss you, I haven't even for a second of my life regretted that decision. Besides," Isabelle looked around, pleased at the amount of people that were watching her. "I heard you couldn't get it up anyway." Isabelle turned, paying no attention to the blank look on Bailey's face. As she walked back through the doors, Rachel ran after her.

Louis got up, trying to be as covert as possible. He snuck past the gaggle of people that had now gathered around Bailey trying to hide or bask in his public humiliation. Out in the hallway he heard Rachel's and Isabelle's voices down the hall. They were arguing, and Louis hid behind a column as heels clicked angrily past him. He looked past the column and Isabelle was standing with her arms folded across her chest.

"Louis," she spotted him. Louis stepped foward. "I'm sorry I ran out of there and for, that whole scene." She sounded almost unnaturally calm and collected.

"Its alright," Louis said. His insides were doing summersaults. He was finally realizing that he was nowhere near Isabelle's level, she was a world away from him.

"But, I need to go catch Rachel." She stepped close to him. He was certain he was going to throw up. She was so close to him that he could smell her perfume. It was amazing. "Thank you for everything. Good night." She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. Then she slinked away. Louis was glued to the spot.

He couldn't wait to tell Li.

Cal was at football practice early that morning. He could see the football coach looking triumphant at the fact that Cal was there, not knowing what Cal was actually doing. After talking to the Head of Theater, Cal had gotten him to agree on changing rehearsal time to one different from football practice.

Ingenious, really. He smiled as the ball was hiked. Nice opening between the Center and Left Tackle. Cal sprinted through the hole and plowed the Quarterback to the ground. A sack. He did this far too often. He almost felt sorry for the guy. But this was defensive practice, so he was allowed to clock the guy.

Monday. Li hated Mondays. Especially the Monday following the start of term banquet. He staggered round the track first thing to try and wake up. Not fast and not far, because he didn't want to be too tired at practice, but he felt like a ton of bricks had taken up residence in his mid-section and his eyes just wouldn't stay open. Of course, stuffing himself silly on BBQ and ham and yorkshire pudding and then staying up late gossiping with Louis didn't help matters at all.

And then there was English... Li groaned and buried his head in his arms on his desk. What sadist put English first thing in the morning??

But Louis plopped down to his left, leaned over, and whispered, "Guess what?"

Li fought the urge to growl something obnoxious. "What?"

"I ate breakfast with Isabelle."

"So? She eats like a horse, I've heard."

"Did you know it's actually birds who have to eat their own body weight in food each day? And horses are really finicky eaters."

Li lifted his head to glare.

"But anyways, Isabelle said she'd like to go do something on Saturday! Off-campus!" He grinned like a loon and poked Li's shoulder. "What say you and Marie come with us?"

"Ooh, Li!" came Marie's delighted response from behind them as she sat down. "Can we? I've got a car!"

"Perfect! Then it's settled."

"Huh? Settled - wha ..?"

But at that moment, their tiny teacher entered the classroom and rapped on her desk with her pointer. The room fell silent.

"Yi Min," announced Ms Strickland suddenly, making her subject start guiltily, "discuss please your reflections of the first chapter in Dickens' classic."

Louis snickered.

"Isabelle, Isabelle!" Rachel slammed her books down on Isabelle's desk. Isabelle didn't jump, but simply looked up from the circle on the floor that she had been staring at. She was almost positive that Rachel noticed something different about her. Maybe it was that she had spent nearly two hours in the morning getting her makeup and her hair perfect. Maybe it was the way she had pinned back her button-up uniform shirt so that it hugged her curves perfectly. Maybe it was that she sat up even straighter and looked even more confident than she ever had before.

"What's going on with you?" Rachel said.

"What do you mean? Nothing's going on with me." Isabelle looked away from her best friend.

"After that whole spot with Bailey you haven't even said a word to me. And on top of that, I have to hear from Jessi that you invited Louis to town this weekend and you don't even tell me about it. Something's going on and I know it. You can't hide from me."

Isabelle kept her lips pressed tightly. The class was filing in behind Rachel. For people to see them fighting would only start the gossip mill running even stronger about Isabelle. "Can we talk about this later?" She asked Rachel. Rachel looked at the people around her. She sighed heavily and picked up her books.

"You know that if you loose me, you have no one." Rachel turned away and sat at the back of the class.

The physics AP teacher walked into the front of the class. Harley Morgan had taken a seat next to Isabelle. Once the teacher began to lecture, he leaned over to her.

"I wanna give you some mad props on putting Bailey in his place last night." His "skater boy" hair hung over his eyes. He was a handsome boy, but not so remarkable that Isabelle had ever really given him a second thought. She looked at him.

"Well, its nice to know it was appreciated."

"You know, I heard that rumor too." Harley sat back in his chair. Isabelle looked over at him and smiled, trying to contain how her insides were jumping with glee.

A Non-Existent User

Jessica sat through math class with one leg slung over her desk and a cocky expression on her face. This was one area where she was truly at home. All her extracurriculars were just an effort to be well-rounded; this, however, was what came easily and effortlessly. The teacher had, on a few occassions, tried to convince her to join the math team, but Jessica still had trouble thinking of math as a competative activity. The way she saw it, math wasn't like running; there was no point to going faster, just smarter.

Next was english, which Jessica was decently good at. She enjoyed the books, anyways. Then physics, debate, phys ed, and history. Lunch was somewhere in there, which Jessica felt was mostly filled with people telling her gossip she didn't really care about. Soccer and track afterwards, then homework, then bed, to start it over in the morning.

"Just what exactly do you think you're doing, Alhambra?" Jaime, Alhambra's roommate, stood in the door to their dorm room, an arm blocking Alhambra's exit. "You look ridiculous!"

Alhambra looked down at what she was wearing. Granted, fencing pants didn't look that good on many people, but Alhambra thought that she looked just fine in skin-tight white pants. It was the jacket, with a strap going staight between her legs, that made her a little uncomfortable. The thing buttoned up all the way to her neck, too, so she was having some problems with airflow. Under her arm was nestled a three-weapons mask, which she thought looked almost as ridiculous as the jacket.

"I know I look ridiculous, but Martin really wants this Fencing Club he started to do well. So there's a group of about ten of us that all look equally ridiculous. If that's any consolation to you, since my going out like this must be such an embarrassment to you." Alhambra smiled.

Jaime chuckled. "I don't know what I'll do with you, missy. You're such a style nightmare! Anyway," she leaned over to kiss Alhambra on each cheek and moved out of the way to let her through. "Have fun."

Alhambra sighed and rolled her eyes. "I don't know how Li managed to talk me into this. That little Rugby playing Asian...he's so sneaky."

"Hey!" Li stood outside, a smaller and straighter version of Alhambra in all white. "That's not very nice."

Stepping into the hallway, Alhambra grinned. "No, it wasn't, was it? Poor Li. I can't believe you talked me into fencing! And that you didn't keep Martin from starting this club!"

Li shrugged as the two headed for the Gymnasium on the other side of the campus. "He was really into it- I couldn't stop him from doing something that he really wanted. Friends, you know."

"I know," Alhambra sighed out, shifting the mask to her other arm. "But did we actually have to wear the outfits?"

Looking down at himself and bringing the mask in front of him, Li shrugged. "It's not that bad. White's your color."

"I'll keep that in mind for when I get married," Alhambra replied. "At least I'll look good in the gown."

"Honestly, Alhambra, you look good in pretty much everything, so why would the hideously ill-fitting fencing uniform be any different?" Li stopped and opened the door to the gymnasium, allowing Alhambra to pass through before him. Already, the rest of the club members- mostly members of the newspaper and Louis- had shown up. Martin was in the corner, fiddling around with the foils, but he turned around when he heard the gym door close.

"Li! Alhambra! I'm glad you came." He crossed the room, gave Alhambra a kiss on the hand and Li a warm handshake. "I didn't know you were joining, Alhambra."

Li laughed. "I talked her into it. I don't think she's too keen on the outfits."

"Ah, well I apologise for the fencing world's lack of fashion sense, madam. I guess pretty wasn't what they had in mind when creating fencing outfits." Martin grinned and led them toward the center of the group. Li and Louis gravitated toward one another while Alhambra mingled with the newspaper crowd.

Martin stood at the front of the group and cleared his throat to bring everyone to silence. When the room was quiet, he smiled. "Thanks for coming, everyone. I'm glad there was interest in fencing and that so many people came, even if I did have to twist arms for most of you." There was some laughter from the group. Li elbowed Alhambra softly in the ribs and Alhambra flicked his arm in return. "I guess we'll start out with the basics." Martin gestured to the sword bags at the front of the room. "The school has provided us with several foils, which we'll start out with, so would everyone please get themselves a sword?"

Alhambra walked up to the front of the room and picked up the first foil she got to, retreating behind the group that had crowded the sword table. Martin smiled at her and beckoned her to him. "I'm glad Li was able to talk you into coming, Alhambra." Putting his arm around her shoulders, Martin laughed "Though the view isn't as nice with the jacket zipped all the way up as it was with that luscious dress of yours."

"Sorry to disappoint, Martin, but I can't break the girls out every day. Especially not when swords are flying everywhere."

"No flying today, I'm afraid. Just some basics, like positions and stances. One's got to know the rules of the game before one fights." Martin picked up a sword and saluted Alhambra, who made a fair effort of returning the gesture before returning to the group. "Alright, everyone, line up please..."

So I was kind of stuck as to where to take my charecter and afer a conversation with candacepaige we came up with an idea. But we agreed that it would be best brought up by Isabelle's character. So we put in her addition. When she adds it will most likely contain something from Louis just to keep it going along smoothly.

Maurie Skinner was Bailey's roomate, and he just so happened to be Isabelle's partner for the upcoming debate she had for the team. She could feel her insides shaking as she walked towards their door, but her entire body was still.

She had to pick up the research he'd done, but she was terrified that when Maurie opened the door Bailey would be standing there. Maurie himself was mostly unremarkable, he was nice but not too nice, athletic but had never made captain or won any awards. Maurie was the Rachel to Bailey's Isabelle.

Rachel. Isabelle's stomach felt sick at the thought of her. She was pushing away her best friend in the world, her only real friend. But at the same time, giving into Rachel meant giving up everything she had begun to work for. Isabelle knocked on the door.

"Hey Isabelle!" Maurie opened the door. "I was just looking for the cards. Here, why don't you come in?" He started to open the door a bit wider. Isabelle pursed her lips. Maurie laughed. "He's not here. All the bigs went down to get some lunch and compare conquests." Isabelle could sense the jealousy in Maurie's voice, but it wasn't so obvious that anyone else would have noticed it. She stepped into the room. It was just as she would have expected a boy's room to be. She sat down on the chair in front of the computer. She looked around.

"So has Bailey said anything?" She asked Maurie.

"Oh just the usual, 'she's a wretched bitch!' and the like." Maurie laughed. "Let me just look in here." He turned his back to her and began looking through the closet.

Isabelle looked through the contents on the desk. One notebook had the words "The Trinity Game". Quietly, Isabelle slipped it out and opened it. The first few pages had a list of almost all the girls Isabelle knew. Next to them were numbers, no, points. Fifteen points, thirty points, fifty was the highest. A few pages in, written in large script, was "Alhambra 300 points. Isabelle 150 points." Isabelle almost didn't know whether to be insulted or pleased. She noticed something. The inner group of boys, athletes and the like, were the ones who had the largest number of points. Isabelle had always wondered what had made those certain boys so popular. Now she knew. She looked through a few more pages, then put the notebook back where she'd found it.

"Here you go," Maurie handed her a stack of cards.

"Thank you Maurie." Isabelle took the cards and placed them in her back pocket. "You're a nice guy, we should talk some time."

Isabelle left the room, closing the door behind her.

Cal ran to his Debates class. He had the feeling he was going to be late. But that was OK. It wasn't like it was gonna make much difference anyways. He was late quite often and the professor took no notice.

As he walked through the door, the first person he saw was Jessica. She gave him a curteous nod and he returned it. 'That was odd,' he thought. Normally she would have said something to try to bring him down, but not today. Or, at least not yet.

He took his seat about two desks behind her and tried to concentrate what was on the board. But he couldn't. He had football to worry about, and the play. Wow, this was gonna be a fun day.

Okay...here it goes again.

Louis had just gotten through his first day of grueling Trinity classes. His head felt like it was on the verge of exploding.He was used to public school, where all they cared about was your ability to pass the end-of-year exams and make it to the next level. Here at Trinity they wanted you to geniunely learn, and they attempted to teach by cramming as much possible information into one setting and hoping something would stick.

He still had swim practice after school. But there was still two hours unti then, maybe he could skip dinner and take a bit of a nap in between. If he didn't go to dinner though, he wouldn't see Isabelle. Even the thought of her made his stomach flutter. It also made him nervous. There was something about that girl, more than what was on the surface. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to know what it was. He was only sure that he wanted to be close to her, to look at her, maybe even touch her at some point.

He didn't even realize he had walked all the way to his dorm. Li was just walking out.

"Ay, you look like you've just been through a rugby game," he said, patting Louis on the shoulder.

"First day of Trinity classes."

"Yeah, well they will do that to ya. Why don't you take a rest, I'll sneak you up some food before your practice."

"You're my hero Li," Louis told him. Li simply shrugged and continued down the hallway. Louis didnt' bother to take off his uniform. He collapsed on his bed and was out within a minute.

"You're gonna be late!" Li screamed. Louis sat up with a jolt, groaning at the time. Quickly he grabbed his swim shorts and sprinted down to the pool.

"Late ones do laps!" Bailey shouted at him as he ran into the locker room. Louis spent the entire practice swimming laps. He was so worn out by the time he got out that he just wanted to go back to sleep. Bailey approached him as he was getting dressed.

"So I've heard you've been getting pretty close to Isabelle Archer," he said. Louis nearly jumped and hit himself on his locker. He shook his head fiercely, spraying water on Bailey.

"I wouldn't say close," he told him.

"You're going to town with her this weekend aren't you?"

"Maybe. It's still up in the air." Louis' insides were forming a knot. He just wanted Bailey to leave him alone. His head was pounding from the combination of too much schoolwork and too much chlorine. He still had homework to do.

"Well, I'll tell you what. You get in with us, and you rule this school. You think it's an accident that I'm captain of three teams? Trinity is one big popularity contest, even with the teachers. Sure, I can back up my skills in sports, but if you want to make it here, skill isn't enough. You get in with us, and you never have to worry about a thing." Bailey was smiling, a charming sort of smile that almost make Louis sick.

"Look, I don't know what you're talking about but I have a lot a homework to do so-"

"Get in with us, you don't have to worry about that," Bailey said. He arched his eyebrows as though he and Louis were mentioning some inside joke.

Louis stared at Bailey for a long time. Without another word to him, Louis slipped on his shirt and started to walk away.

"You give it some thought," Bailey called after him. "Come by my dorm if you're interested."

Louis let the door to the locker room slam behind him. The cold air in the gym combined with his wet hair made him shiver. Or maybe it was something else. He had fallen for one of the most beautiful, popular girls in school. He had dug himself into something deep in Trinity. Something he didn't understand, something he didn't want to understand. Li hadn't mentioned it so he probably didn't even know. There was a secret here.

Louis walked back to his dorm trying not to think about what he had gotten himself into.

Cal sat near the back of the Debates class, writing ideas for both football and drama, which on paper, looked like a really big mess. But he had to do something to take his mind off of what was really bothering him. And he didn't think it best to tell anyone about, even those he could trust with everything. This was something he definitely had to take care of himself. He got so lost in his own thoughts, he hadn't even realized class had ended until Jessica nudged him gently.

He was startled, and his jump caused her to jump. He quickly regained his composure, and she laughed a little bit.

"Thinking a might hard there, aren't we, if you didn't realize that class was over, and that it's lunch period," she said. Cal smiled and stood up, grabbing his books.

"Yeah, and lunch is my favorite time of day. Care to join me?"

Monday night after his workout, it was back to the ol' grindstone for Li. Thanks to Martin, both Li's legs and his arms hurt, for fencing was all about the legs, and that night's workout had targeted the upper body: arms, shoulders, and neck.

Now as Li sat down at his desk and stared at his school books, he decided to tackle the calculus and physics problems first. There weren't too many and they weren't difficult, so then he could settle in to read the next chapters of the Dickens novel, which would take him to lights out. Let's see, there'd been no homework for history, but there would be a paper due in a couple weeks, Spanish he'd done in class, and CAD could really only be worked on during class time. Yes, English, he sighed, would be the bane of his existence. On top of the novel, he somehow had to learn ten new vocabulary words by Wednesday when they had their first quiz. Like anyone ever used the word 'lachrymose' in actual conversation!

He woke up abruptly around 2 a.m. feeling stiff and cold. Blinking at his alarm clock, Li realized that he had fallen asleep over his English book. Louis was fast asleep, snoring slightly, so Li eased out of bed, pulled off his jeans and t-shirt, and crawled back into bed; but he could not get back to sleep. At 2:30, he gave up, pulled his clothes back on, and headed towards the study lounge with his English book. He was surprised to see a light on under the crack of the door and blinked warily as he eased the door open to step inside.

At first he didn't see anyone, but then he moved, in the shadows by the windows.

"Martin?"

"Yo, Li," said Martin, oh-so-casually. "What are you doing up?"

Still surprised, Li didn't say anything for a minute, then he held up his book. "Couldn't sleep. I need to finish my chapters. Strickland made me feel like an idiot this morning and I won't be caught twice."

"You mean yesterday."

"Yeah."

They stared at each other awkwardly for several minutes.

"So what're you doing here?" Li asked.

Isabelle purposely timed her return from the library late enough so that Rachel would be asleep when she got to the dorm room. Rachel was was curled up under her covers, facing the wall. Isabelle tiptoed to her bed, slipping off her uniforms and replacing it on her body with an oversized shirt.
"I don't know what you're doing," Rachel said suddenly as Isabelle was getting into bed.
"I don't know what you mean," Isabelle replied, trying desperately to keep her voice level though her heart was pounding.
"I'm the only real friend you have, and you know it. I don't know what you're playing at, but you're changing. I used to be able to defend you against all those girls that called you a bitch. I could say they didn't know you. But now, I don't know if I can defend you any more." Rachel turned over so that Isabelle was looking into her face through the dark. "Don't do this Isabelle," she said.
Isabelle pulled her blanket over her legs. Part of her wanted to give in, to cry in her best friend's arms like she had so many times before. She wanted to give up this game, not be alone. "I don't know what you're talking about, Rachel." She slid down under the blanket and turned to face the wall.
"Okay, Isabelle. But when you wake up tomorrow, we're roomates and nothing else."
Isabelle listened to Rachel's attempt to stifle her crying for the next hour. Isabelle was much better at it. But she could still taste the salty tears that ran down her cheeks and over her lips.