Disclaimer: I own nothing except for Davey's Pub and Mrs. Polski. And if Tragic Love is a real song name, I apologize. But then again it's not the same song, so do I have to apologize? Whatever, just keep reading. :)

Come on, where are you?

Why do you tease me?

Why do you tease me?

Come on, where are you?

~ Air Conditions, Q And Not U

The only classes Nellie and Ben had together were history and chemistry, so they decided to start with chemistry. They were both sitting on Ben's bed in his tiny bedroom. The sun streamed in through the windows, making the room feel warmer than usual.

And Ben really didn't need to be feeling any warmer.

"Alright, let's try another one," said Ben. He was holding his book up to his face, partly so Nellie couldn't see the answers, and partly so he couldn't see Nellie's ensemble. She was wearing a v-neck blouse and a short (shorter than should be considered decent, Ben thought) powder blue skirt. "Who said that electrons in the same orbitals had to have opposite spins?"

"Hmm." Nellie tapped her pencil her cheek. "Hund?"

"No," said Ben. He did not lower his book. "It was Pauli. Hund said each orbital had to have one electron before any could have two."

"Bugger," cursed Nellie. "Science is so pointless. Who cares about these old stiffs anyway?"

"Maybe because they actually did something important," muttered Ben under his breath. Unlike me, he thought to himself. I'll never be remembered in history.

"Hellooooo?" called Nellie, pushing the book out of Ben's face and disrupting his thoughts. "Did you fall asleep back there, or what?"

"Sorry," mumbled Ben. He averted his gaze from her, but not before catching another glimpse of her. She had her hair tied back and piled carelessly on the top of her head, giving her the look of a royal princess with a miniskirt.

"What is the matter with you?" asked Nellie. Ben reluctantly met her curious gaze. "It's like you're on some bloody other planet. Is everything alright?"

"Well . . ." Ben fiddled with the pages of his textbook before blurting out, "Are you a virgin?"

Nellie's mouth fell open in shock. "Am I . . . am I a what?" Ben didn't want to repeat the word, so he just continued staring at her. Nellie looked down at her lap. "That's none of your business."

"So you aren't?"

"That's not what I said!"

"Well it's pretty obvious that you aren't one, else you would have just said no." Ben was fuming now, which surprised him. He could not understand why he was reacting this way.

"What is your problem?" she cried. "So what if I'm not, and so what if I am? Why do you care, either way? It's not like I'm your bloody girlfriend, Ben."

This shut up Ben right away. He could not think of a retort, and didn't want to reveal what feelings he may be harboring towards her. He looked away from Nellie's face, which was growing red with embarrassment and anger, and mumbled a dejected, "You're right. I'm sorry."

Nellie let out a gust of air and picked up the chemistry book from beside Ben. "No matter. Let's just get on with this torture."

The two continued to throw questions back and forth. Nellie barely got any right, while Ben didn't miss an answer, even though he was only half paying attention. His thoughts were still focused on Nellie's answer to his question, which he had taken as confirmation that she was indeed not a virgin. This troubled him. Who had she done it with? Why hadn't she told him? Was it some secret person she met for one time and hasn't spoken to since? Or worse – were they sending letters to each other in secret, right under his nose?

The possibilities were endless, and he only hurt himself by worrying. Still, he couldn't help it. Each time he shot a glance at Nellie, something foreign and strange moved inside him, threatening to eat him alive. At times he found himself unable to form coherent thoughts, too shaken by the strange feelings emanating from within.

She was a poison, but he wanted all of her.

--

The next day in chemistry class, Ben's teacher Mrs. Polski pulled him off to the side.

"Ben, are you planning on going to college?" asked the tall, graying hair woman.

Ben shuffled his feet awkwardly. "Er, no, not really."

Mrs. Polski frowned. "Really. It's a shame to see such brilliance wasted. You really are smart, Ben. Why don't you want to go to college? You could do great things."

"I just don't know what I want to do," answered Ben.

"Yes well, I really want you to look at this college," said Mrs. Polski, shoving some papers and a brochures into Ben's hands. He barely glanced at the title before tossing it into the trash can once Mrs. Polski's back was turned. Oxford. He scoffed. Did she really think he could make it into Oxford? The idea was laughable.

"What did she want?" asked Nellie, once they met up again in the hallway.

"Nothing," mumbled Ben. "Just asked me a question."

"Well, what question?" pressed Nellie. It was really annoying, actually, the way she couldn't drop something. Ben didn't answer her, hoping his silence would be a giveaway that he didn't feel like pursuing the subject. Fortunately, Nellie took the hint. Instead, she started rummaging through her bag with a mischievous expression.

"What are you looking for?" asked Ben, his curiosity piqued.

"I was going to wait until lunch to show you this, so we could discuss it more, but I think you're in need of some cheering up. So – oh bloody hell, where did I put that thing – Aha!" Nellie pulled out a colorfully printed flyer and handed it to Ben, who took it warily and read the text out loud.

"Entertainment needed at Davey's Pub. June 26th. Auditions this Friday. Will pay money . . . A pub? Seriously? You want us to play at a pub? Why would a pub hire entertainment, anyway?"

"Jesus, Ben, you really are dense. Don't you know that Davey's Pub's basement is the most popular place for dance parties?" Nellie sighed loudly, disappointed in Ben's lack of social knowledge.

"Oh," said Ben. "And they were just handing out flyers?"

Nellie turned pink and smiled sheepishly. "Well, no. This was posted inside the pub. I took it, you know, to lower the competition."

"Of course you did," sighed Ben. But the thought of playing in front of a crowd of people stirred some excitement inside him.

--

Friday came too quickly, and the initial excitement he felt in his belly had now turned into nausea. How did they think they could actually perform for an audience? They were embarrassing themselves by even showing up to the audition.

There were only two other bands there, and both of them looked much older and more mature than Nellie and Ben. The duo exchanged nervous glances, and listened to the two bands perform before them.

The first band might have been good, if Ben could have heard anything besides the lead singer's voice. The second was better, but the drummer couldn't keep a beat, and it through the whole band out of whack.

Feeling somewhat more confident, Ben took his place on the little platform they called a stage. He held his guitar with sweaty fingers and waited for Nellie to compose herself. Finally, she gave him a cue, and the two proceeded to stream notes from their respective instruments.

The song was called 'Tragic Love', and its most prominent feature was Nellie's extended keyboard solo, with Ben jamming out power chords. He could vaguely hear Nellie's lyrics soaring above everything, her soft melodic voice wrapping itself around his mind. He never really heard what she saying, but he caught slight tidbits. Something about a one-sided love, where one party abused the other with their feelings. Ben's heart leaped up into his chest as he wondered if Nellie's song was about him. Could she see right through him? Was he so obvious?

They concluded their song with one loud chord and were greeted with quiet applause. Ben didn't know if this was because they were bad or because there were only about ten other people in the room. Nellie grinned widely and took a bow, while Ben ducked his head in nervous thanks, the scuttled off the stage.

"Thanks again, everyone," said Davey, the manager of the pub. "I'll get back to you all with the results. Basically, if you don't get called by the end of tomorrow, we didn't pick you. Tough love, guys." He walked back to his office with out another word, and the three bands made their way out of the pub, saying a few 'good jobs' before going their own separate ways.

A/N: Sorry for the delay. Please comment! I love reading reviews, especially if they give a lot of advice.