Part 3, I guess? ******************************************************************* BEEEEEEEEEEP! Darien turned over and tried to ignore the ungodly blaring in his ear by stuffing a pillow over his head, but even Serena (the deepest sleeper possibly in the history of humankind) would have trouble snoozing through this racket. Groaning, he flung an arm out lazily and hit the button dead on, more out of luck than aim. <> he thought, rubbing that crumbly crap out of his eyes and forcing himself to sit up. Incoherent thoughts swam around like epileptic goldfish in his head. <> In the end, PEE won. He showered quickly, dressed, and was haphazardly jamming a Pop-Tart into his ancient toaster when he heard a yawn behind him. “Morning, Luna,” he mumbled, sweeping stray crumbs and rainbow sprinkles into the sink. Luna was always the first to wake up. “Morning, Darien.” Luna leaped agilely onto the counter and held up her head for a scratch. He obliged. Pets were strictly forbidden in the dorms, and Darien had instantly agreed to share his apartment with the cat guardians after Serena tearily explained the situation. Leaving them in Japan was not even briefly considered, although he had the strong urge to ship Artemis back via UPS after the third week of complaining about the airplane’s cargo hold. He smiled as he scratched Luna’s ears, remembering how scared all of them were at the airport, clinging to each other like toddlers and searching frantically for Darien, their only guide in the foreign country. Serena’s hair was mussed and her clothes were wrinkled, but she had never looked so beautiful to him, standing in the middle of chaos and clutching Raye’s arm. They hadn’t spotted him at first, and he had heard Serena nervously say to the girls in faltering English, “Maybe we need assistance.” She used to avoid any word with an “L” in it. “No, we can do it,” Raye replied, her accent heavy. “Minako, herup us. Find Mamoru.” Mina had timidly turned to an elderly woman. “Excuse me, ma’m, but do you know where the information desk is?” She spoke English fluently, with a heavy British accent from her years living in England. Darien had popped out and surprised them, and returned their hugs and squeals. He hugged Serena the hardest. “Your English has improved, Serena. I’m so proud of you!” She was nervous. “No, not good. Many persons at university.” “Don’t worry,” he reassured her, although he was a bit nervous for everyone except Mina and Amy, who spoke better than most Americans. “You’ll get the hang of it.” And she did. By Christmas, she was as comfortable chattering away in English as she was in Japanese, as was Lita and Raye. She would forget sometimes and prattle away to her family or Naru in English when they called. She even learned to write in script. Darien poured a bowl of milk for Luna and started gathering his books. “What happened yesterday, Luna? Serena said there was someone at the bookstore that looked like Malachite.” “Yes, there was, although we had him completely analyzed and turned up with nothing, I’m afraid. But we put our heads together last night and decided to keep a close eye on this guy just in case he turns out to be some Negaverse lackey. You have to see him, Darien; if I didn’t know any better I’d swear he was Malachite’s twin.” She daintily lapped up her milk, jumping slightly when the toaster regurgitated a burned Pop-Tart with an atomic bang. “Mina seems to be a little smitten with him. We had the hardest time keeping her attention during the senshi meeting. As a matter of fact, I think she’s going to meet him tonight.” “Mina is going to meet WHO tonight?” A flash of white fur streaked into the kitchen. “What’s going on? Luna, tell me!” “Relax, Artemis, we’ve discovered that the guy’s not a threat.” “NOT A-LUNA WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?” Darien laughed softly as he grabbed his coat and headed out. * * * * * * * * * * * * His first class was cell biology, which he found extremely boring, but fortunately, about a hundred other students decided to join in the monotony with him, mostly third semester pre-meds. He was slightly late, and the auditorium was already more than slightly packed. He sat one seat away from a dark-blond kid wearing wire-rim glasses and scribbling furiously in a spiral notebook. Curiosity got the best of him, and he leaned over to see what the guy was doing. “It’s a bridge, see?” The guy held up his notebook, showing a considerably embarrassed Darien a pencil sketch of a suspension bridge. Reddening, Darien stuttered, “I…I’m sorry, I didn’t, um, I mean…” The guy smiled, and Darien’s heart leapt in his throat. The expression was a little off, and there was nothing malicious in the smile… “Zach. Zach Straub.” The sandy-haired guy held out his hand for Darien to shake. “Darien Chiba.” <> “Do you like bridges?” He knew the question was stupid, but he needed something other to say than, “Are you Zoycite?” “Not really, I’m just bored. If I didn’t need this class I would be taking Music Listening or something. I should be outlining the chapter, because we had a pitch tournament last night and I didn’t even crack this mother yet.” He tapped the cover of his biology book. “Do you play pitch? We had to distract my one friend; he was freaking out because some girl talked to him and she wasn’t asking if she could take his order. You wouldn’t believe it: this kid is huge, could probably break me in half, but he can’t talk to a female that’s not his mother without puking his guts out. He makes me look like the ‘Ladies’ Man.’” Zach took off his glasses and leaned back. “Yeth, mm-hmm, that’s disgusting.” Darien laughed; Zach could do a pretty good imitation of the SNL character. “Watch a lot of TV?” “Yes, unfortunately. My friend Jay forces us to watch all the reruns. He doesn’t care if you have a test or a headache or surgery the next day-you’re watching SNL. You should see him do Farley when he’s drunk, it’s key.” Zach was in the middle of telling him about the time Jay broke the couch when Darien spotted a familiar blue head lingering in the doorway. “Amy!” he called, waving her over. She hurried to his row. “Mmm, a lady!” Zach whispered, still stuck in Leon Phelps mode. “Hi Darien,” she said, sitting between him and Zach. “Hey Amy. What’s up?” Zach cleared his throat loudly. “Darien, my new best friend, aren’t you going to introduce me to your girlfriend?” Darien grinned; he knew what Zach was up to. Amy blushed good-naturedly. “Oh, I’m not his girlfriend,” she explained. “Serena is, she’s one of my best friends.” Zach raised an eyebrow, and Darien started coughing to hide his laughter. “Oh, I thought he was your boyfriend, the way he saved you a seat and everything.” Now Amy was getting genuinely embarrassed. “No, I don’t have a boyfriend.” She started flipping through her notebook, searching frantically for a distraction. Darien and Zach locked eyes over her head, and something coherently male passed between them. “Amy, I’m sorry that you have to sit next to this jerk. This is Zach Straub, Zach, this is the one and only Amy Mizuno, the very same one who broke the record in the 100 butterfly this season.” “Really?” Zach’s façade melted away and was replaced with genuine interest. “You’re on the team? They had a pretty good season.” “Yes, the coach talked me into joining. He got me a scholarship but…” she stopped before she said that she really didn’t need it, because she had gotten enough academic ones to see her through. And the coach had practically begged her to join, offering her all sorts of incentives, which she had graciously refused. “My first semester was relatively easy, so I decided I would give it a try.” “You broke a school record your first semester! Wow, that thing stood for like 10 years or something.” “Ten years, nine months,” Darien added, grinning. Amy was almost purple with embarrassment. “It’s no big deal, really. I don’t even think I’m going to join next year anyway.” “Don’t you want to break your own record?” Zach never got an answer, since the professor walked in and immediately started lecturing. Darien slipped into his usual semi-coma, blocking everything out until Amy dumped a piece of paper onto his lap. He unfolded it and read: I’ve got a break after this. Anyone want to grab a coffee after class? Sorry, I have a class after this one. But thank you anyway. How about you, D? He leaned over to whisper instructions at Amy, but she answered before he had a chance to ask. “No, Darien, he’s not…you know. I already scanned him.” “Thanks, Ames,” he whispered back, smiling. If anyone was on it, it was Amy. He clicked his pen and scrawled, Yeah, sure, then handed the note back to Amy. He racked his brain, wondering if he had to meet Serena or something during the break. After class, they said goodbye to Amy and headed out. “Where are we going?” Darien asked. Zach smiled in a way that was a tad too Zoycite. “Let’s grab some Fresno’s and take it back to my place. I don’t think anyone else is home.” “What’s Fresno’s?” “You’re kidding, right?” Darien shook his head. “Oh my God you’re not kidding. You’ve never had Fresno’s? It’s only the best place in the state of California! It’s so good, man, you have to try their chicken cheese steaks, they are friggin’ KEY! C’mon, I borrowed Kevin’s piece of crap car. You should have seen it! Last week this freaky-ass monster appeared out of nowhere and started ripping **** up and blew one of the Blazer’s tires off! Then those chicks wearing these cheerleading outfits popped out of nowhere and wasted it! It was the bomb, man! Kevin was pissed, though.” <> Darien tried his best to look nonchalant, even though he had been there. And it had been one of Jupiter’s misfires that blew the tire off, not the youma. He followed Zach to the car, and for a second he had to strangest feeling. He wasn’t uncomfortable, exactly, but he had this feeling, like Zach was some prestigious club or something. He never remembered having a guy to talk to before. In fact, he hadn’t really talked to anyone before, besides the girls, and he had never gone out to lunch like this, like he and Zach were… He wondered if he was making a friend. * * * * * * * * * * * * “Geez, Mina, stop chewing your fingernails.” Mina yanked her hand away from her mouth and glared up at Raye, irritated with her friend’s bossy tone. “What, bothering you?” “As a matter of fact, it is. And what if you have to do hand modeling, or something? Lita’s got nicer hands than you, and that’s not saying a lot.” Mina winced and pried at a hangnail, thinking of the deep scar in Lita’s finger from where her hand slipped chopping walnuts to put in cookies. After that particularly gruesome incident, all her cookies had been nut-free. Sighing, she mentally admitted that Raye had a point: she was sure that the next Rolex ad didn’t include bleeding cuticles. They were sitting in the lounge in the entrance of Goshin Hall, which was empty except for an RA stapling papers to a bulletin board and the front desk person. All day, Mina’s stomach felt like it was trying to turn itself inside out, and, with the possibility of seeing Kevin again manifesting, she focused her nervousness onto her defenseless fingernails. She could see his steely eyes in her mind’s eye, and how those eyes had such a power over her that she willingly drowned in their gaze. But unfortunately, when she saw him, she couldn’t exactly stare at him the entire time. <> she chastised herself. <> Raye had come with her, even though she insisted that Luna had instructed her to do so “just in case this guy really is Malachite and I have to waste him.” Serena had brought up the Jedite look-alike exactly once before Raye jumped down her throat, telling her in no uncertain terms that she would never date someone as conceited as that, and for that matter, anyone who looked like a Dark Kingdom general. Serena had quickly, and wisely, dropped the subject. “Nervous?” Raye had read her mind, naturally. “No,” Mina lied, ignoring her fingers and tugging on the strings on the hood of her sweatshirt instead. She silently wished that she had money to do her laundry, so she had something to wear other than track pants and the infamous gray sweatshirt. Raye was wearing her favorite purple sweater and dark jeans, since she had enough change to wash a load of darks. Raye always wore dark colors, and Mina’s wardrobe was predominantly light, so she had gotten shafted this time around. “You could have borrowed something, you know. Just not my sweaters. Your big boobs always stretch them out.” Raye grinned widely, and Mina stuck her tongue out playfully. “My boobs are fabulous. And I’m not even in the same league as Lita.” “I swear-- the hottest guy to give you a second look and you’re meeting him in your pajamas.” “Yeah well, I didn’t think of that,” Mina mumbled, embarrassed that Raye had brought up her crappy clothes and equally crappy track record with men. “You obviously did. Looking good for Jay?” Raye opened her mouth, undoubtedly to report in a very loud voice that she had absolutely no interest in him, when the real Jay, accompanied by the real Kevin, complete with gorgeous eyes, interrupted her. Mina felt her internal organs melt when she and Kevin locked eyes. “Hey girls,” Jay flashed his molars and plopped down next to Raye, who was scowling. “How are we tonight, Raye?” Kevin sat down next Mina, and immediately sunk into the squishy cushions that had probably been there since the Silver Millennium. Mina felt her seat slant dangerously, and she toppled onto Kevin in Serena-like glory. “I’m sorry!” she giggled, grabbing his bicep for support. It felt like a softball. <> Probably every one of Kevin’s dreams came true when Mina fell on his lap. A shower of gold strands brushed his face when she straightened up, and he resisted the urge to bury his face in her hair and inhale. He was sitting close enough to smell her, and her fresh scent was enough for him to lose any semblance of rational thought. “It’s OK,” he said, silently thanking Bryce University for not replacing their couch cushions in Goshin Hall since 1974. Mina was on the tip of her tongue to start small talk, but he interrupted her. “I saw you in a magazine.” “Oh,” she said, surprised. Her fan base consisted of her parents her friends, and the two cats. “You did?” He nodded. She dropped her voice so Jay and Raye couldn’t hear. “Was I taking a shower under a waterfall?” “Yeah.” His eyes shone, like moonlight on sand. She started giggling, a habit she never really dropped no matter how old she got. “Oh, my gosh I can’t believe you saw that! It was the stupidest thing, really. They had me stand under that fake waterfall for hours, and it was freezing! I was such a prune when I got out!” “You were beautiful,” Kevin said before he realized what he was saying. <> Mina blushed and starting picking at her nails again. They were silent for a while, until she broke the tension. “It keeps me and my friends supplied with body wash, though,” she laughed. “Except for Amy, it gives her a rash.” “What, that soap--junk?” Raye interrupted. She and Jay had been verbally bashing a professor that they shared and disliked. “Yeah, you wouldn’t believe how sick I am of smelling like that stuff. People know we’re coming before they can see us.” Mina playfully hit her. “She had a different opinion of it when she was out of money.” She imitated Raye’s bossy tone. “’Mina, where’s that soap they gave you? Don’t tell me we’re out!’” They all laughed except Raye, who was only slightly ruffled rather than enraged. “Hey, Raye, feeling hungry?” “No,” she immediately replied, just as her stomach growled. <> “Well, I am. Want to see what’s cooking in the dining hall?” He leaned over and gave her a look that said, so we can leave those two alone. “Um,” she turned and caught Mina’s pleading expression. “OK, all right. Mina, don’t go anywhere, OK?” She smiled up at her dark haired friend and nodded. “Thanks Raye,” she whispered. Raye was halfway out the door when she turned and hissed, “You’re doing the ironing for a month, hoser!” Kevin slightly smiled after the pair left. “Why do I have the feeling that I’m going to see Jay’s chalk outline on the ground when I leave?” Mina laughed open-mouthed, in decidedly un-sexy way. “You never told me your last name,” he said suddenly. “Oh, Aino.” “So your last name is…?” “That’s it. Aino.” “I know? Is that one word?” “NO!” she laughed, wondering if this was an Abbot and Costello skit. “It’s Japanese! A-I-N-O. Aino.” “You’re from Japan?” He frowned, terribly confused. “I thought you were British or something.” “No, but I lived in England for awhile so that’s where I learned to speak English. My real name’s Minako.” “Minako,” he repeated, enraptured by its musical quality. “Uh, no offense, but why are you in the States? Aren’t Japanese schools a lot better?” His platinum eyes were focused on her, and the next thing she knew, what seemed to be her life story was pouring out. Beginning when Darien left to study in America, and how it was only supposed to be a year, and how he decided to stay there. How Serena tearfully decided that she would join him there if it killed her, so she buckled down and rivaled Amy in her academic ambition. How, at about that same time, Mina had received a call from an agent willing to represent her if she moved to the states, and promised to make her a supermodel. How Amy had talked to Darien and was informed of Bryce University’s prestigious medical program and excellent swim team. How Raye caved and decided to give another part of the world a shot, since her father tried in vain to make up years of absence by offering her a free ride to any school she wanted. How Lita came because she didn’t want to be left alone. She told Kevin about her friends’ frantic struggle to learn English in a year and a half, and how the turning point came when Serena’s family bought a satellite dish. She told him about the hours they spent watching American TV, and how Lita, Raye, and Serena learned English from “Friends,” and “NYPD Blue,” and “Sex and the City.” She told him about picking American names, and how Makoto chose “Lita” from a soap opera and because she thought it would improve her Ls. Her eyes watered and her throat stung as she told him about saying goodbye to her family, and how she cried when she left them again after Christmas break. Choking, she raised her head and gasped when she saw that Kevin was actually paying attention to her chatter, when most others had learned to tune it out. “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to go on like that!” She wiped a trace of wetness out of her eyes. “That’s OK,” he said, “I love to hear it.” His voice was so deep, Mina could feel it vibrating the air as it passed between them. She vigorously rubbed her eyes, and suddenly brightened. “Do you want to see my friends?” she asked, flashing him her mega-watt smile. Kevin, dumbfounded by her sudden switching of moods, mutely nodded. Mina bounced off the couch and grabbed his hand. “C’mon,” she urged, leading him like a shepherd towards the stairs. She released his hand and ran up the stairs, and he followed her and wished that they were still holding hands. Thank God Jay wasn’t there to witness the carnage this time around. He would pee himself. Mina unlocked the door to her cinderblock cell, fully aware of what it looked like to the other people on her floor. She pushed the door open, praying to the Dating god that she hadn’t left dirty underwear or tampons laying around. Luckily, the most offensive thing left out in the open was one of Raye’s sports bras poking out from under her bed. <> She ran to a shelf, grabbing a photo album and strategically kicking the bra out of sight, while Kevin looked around. “Sorry about the mess,” she said, sitting on her bed with the album on her lap. “Have a seat.” He did, and the squishy mattress caved inward and Mina fell on his lap again. “I’m sorry,” he said automatically, not sorry at all. He would have given his right arm to have an excuse to touch her again. She leaned elbows on his thighs and attempted to straighten up, and found her face inches from his. Kevin forgot to breathe for a few seconds. Their eyes were locked, and Mina felt the rest of the room melt away. Background noise from the hall grew fainter and fainter, and for a few seconds she thought she heard orchestra music, so soft that she could have imagined it. Mina suddenly sat up, breaking eye contact. Kevin blushed. “God, we have to stop doing this,” she laughed, promising herself that when she was famous, she would make a generous contribution to Goshin Hall with strict instructions never to replace cushions or mattresses. She opened the album and pointed to the first picture, one of her in England. “That’s me in England. I was in a Sailor V movie…” She was cut off abruptly when her cell phone rang the emergency ring. * * * * * * * * * * * * “So Kevin is the only one who could sleep through his snoring, so we switched rooms. I can still hear him through the door, though; he’s a beast. We thought about taking up a collection and getting his adenoids removed, but then we would have no money for beer, and that would be worse, ‘cause if you’re passed out you can’t hear it anyway.” Raye laughed into her napkin before she remembered that she wasn’t supposed to enjoy this particular person’s company. However, she could look at him and see Jay and not Jedite, being that Jedite was more likely to try and break her legs than tell her about his snoring roommate. “Do you know how to play pitch?” Jay asked, sensing that Raye would be a great competitor. “No. What’s pitch?” “What’s pitch? Only the greatest card game in the world! Here, let me teach you.” He pulled a deck of cards out of his pocket. “You always carry cards with you?” Raye asked, silently wondering if Jay was a closet weirdo. “No, they’re just in my pocket from this afternoon. Matt and I were playing during class. We'll start with four point, then I'll teach you ten.” He launched into the rules of pitch, explaining trump cards and point values, and dealt a practice hand. Oh God she’s pretty, he thought, watching her bite her lip while she debated which card to throw. No, she’s more than pretty. She’s beautiful. She makes every other girl I’ve dated look like expired dog food. She threw a card down. “There.” Ace of trump, which successfully captured his jack. “No way,” he muttered, staring incredulously at the cards. “Holy s***.” “What? Did I win?” “Yeah you won, all right. You kicked my ass; I’m up.” Raye smiled maliciously, feeling one-upped on the Generals by beating a guy who looked like one of them at cards. “I’m good at this,” she commented mildly, scooping up the deck. “Yeah, no kidding. My friends and I used to play this all the time on the moon.” Raye’s fingers knotted together and the cards went flying. “What did you say?!” she gasped, her heart pounding like bass in a car. <> Jay stared blankly at her, startled out of his wits. “What’s wrong, Raye? I just said that me and my friends used to play this all the time.” “No you didn’t!” Raye hissed, breathing heavily. “You said that you and your friends used to play this all the time ON THE MOON!” “Who do you think I am? Neil Armstrong? Raye, what’s wrong with you?” “NOTHING is wrong with me, buddy!” she choked, embarrassed at her outburst. Maybe she had heard him wrong, but Hino Rei would rather bitch at the hapless boy for hours before she would admit defeat. “OK,” Jay said calmly. “Sorry if I offended you.” He dealt another hand. “I wouldn’t want to go to the moon, anyway. I’d rather go to Mars.” Raye internally blanched and wondered if she would throw up the mac and cheese she just ate. For someone who wasn’t Jedite, he certainly knew a lot about her. Or he was just an idiot talking out of his ass. Jay, oblivious to Raye’s panic attack, continued. “The moon’s nothing but gray rock and a few leftover golf balls. I want to see if there was really life on Mars, and figure out if there were all oceans and rivers and crap. See, after I saw ‘Total Recall’ I figured…” Raye didn’t hear anything after that, because her communicator rang and stopped him mid-sentence. * * * * * * * * * * * * “Why does he lock the door?” Zach asked, clearly irritated. Darien hid his smile behind the paper bag of food he was carrying. “He always has the GD door locked when I have my hands full…” He kicked the door to apartment 2C several times, leaving scuffmarks on the gray paint. “Jerk. Retard. YO MATT YOU TOOL!!!! OPEN THE DOOR!” The door swung open while Zach was in mid-kick, causing him to stumble and nearly drop his bag full of cheesesteaks. “Took you long enough,” he grumbled. The person inside the apartment began rummaging through Zach’s stash and pulling out wrapped sandwiches. “Did you get one without onions?” “Do you want to wait until I get through the door?” Zach snapped back. Darien stepped into the apartment behind him, feeling a bit awkward at meeting yet another person in the span of twenty-four hours. Those feelings were quashed when the new individual bear-hugged him and screamed, “You must be carrying the barbeque sauce! Oh I love you man!” Zach dropped his bag on the counter. “Sorry, man. Matt’s a little wacked. Matt, this is Darien Chiba. Darien, Matt Haberman.” Matt pulled back and started rummaging through Darien’s bag, searching for the foresaid barbeque sauce. He was approximately Darien’s height, with short brown hair and brown eyes, and when he grinned, holding the container of sauce up like a trophy, Darien’s heart leapt in his throat for the second time that day. He had thrown roses at that smile before, with intent to kill. “Hey what’s up?” Matt said, unwrapping a cheesesteak on the counter and pouring approximately a gallon of barbeque sauce on it. “I’m not wacked; just hungry. There is no, and I mean NO, food in this house. Take a look.” He swung the refrigerator door open, revealing a few cans of Natural Ice, a bottle of A1, a stick of margarine, and a bottle of that pink-tasting cure-all, Pepto Bismol. Matt grabbed the A1, unscrewed the cap, and sniffed the rim. He nodded, obviously pleased by the freshness, and dumped it on the barbeque soup that was his sandwich. “Granted, I could have just drank all day and then I wouldn’t have even remembered being hungry, but I have Art History this afternoon and I skipped it twice last week. Pull up a chair, Darien. Mi casa es su casa.” Darien sat in one of the battered kitchen chairs and began loading condiments onto his cheesesteak. While Zach and Matt heatedly discussed who was using the most water that month and contributing to a gargantuan bill, Darien observed the apartment with the acuteness of a fire inspector. The room next to the living room/kitchen was completely occupied by a pool table that had probably survived some WWII conflict, judging by the scratches in the felt and surrounding wood. Some sort of stain, possibly beer, poured down one side of the green. Behind the table was an array of traffic signs, cones, and construction horses. The majority of the living room was taken up by two huge beige couches, which looked brand-new, in contrast to the horribly nicked coffee table. A TV sat on a sagging wooden cabinet, hooked to a Dreamcast like a life support system. A Playstation on sabbatical lay obediently on the floor, bound by its own controllers. A hallway branched off in between the kitchen and living room, undoubtedly leading to the bedrooms. “Well, you spend the longest time in the shower! I am going to flush every time I go!” Matt defended his right to flush through a mouthful of cheese and meat. “How’d you like Fresno’s, Darien?” Darien hadn’t realized he had inhaled the entire thing until he looked down at his plate and saw only loose sesame seeds. Zach leaned back in his chair and started laughing. “Hey, guess what? Darien’s from Japan!” he said to Matt. Matt’s eyes widened as he stuck a Camel in his mouth and searched his pockets for a lighter. “For real? What’s it like-oh s***, later man! We have to be in class in ten minutes!” “Crap!” Zach barked, scooping up his books and tossing Matt the keys. “Hey, Darien, why don’t you come over after class? We’re having a pitch tournament and since Kevin has a history test tomorrow, we’re short a player.” “Yeah, sure,” Darien agreed, concealing his enthusiasm.