Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own Ouran.

"I've got a crush on you, sweetie pie. All the day and nighttime, hear me sigh; I've never had the least notion that I could fall for so much emotion." –I've Got a Crush On You, Linda Ronstadt

Today was a weird day. It started off like this:

"Shall I repeat the question, Miss Shizune?"

My head snaps up as I hear my name. My calculus teacher stands at the chalkboard, arms crossed and feet tapping impatiently. My pen strays from my hand, scribbling gibberish all over my new sheet music. "Um –"

The teacher points to me. "Perhaps this teaches you that you should pay attention in class, instead of doing other tedious things."

I clench the pen hard. He dares to call my music tedious? He dares to call the thing that matters most, the element closest to my heart like it's a piece of garbage? "Pardon me, but I happen to be doing something a bit more important than calculus, thank you very much." Everyone is staring at me. I even hear someone snicker. I can see Tamaki out of the corner of my eye, his mouth open and gaping like a fish.

My teacher's face reddens. "Perhaps, Miss Shizune, you will realize how important Calculus is when you finish your assignment tonight in detention."

Damn. I can hear Tamaki babbling to him about how I'm the official piano player or whatever and that they need me for the club, but my teacher stands firm. It's not exactly Tamaki's defense that makes tears spring to my eyes; it's the fact that whenever I try to speak someone else manages to shut my mouth. Why won't anyone listen to me?

I show how much I care about Calculus to my dear teacher by finishing my symphony during detention. Ha.

Things only get stranger. When I get home that evening my mother explodes at me. "Emiko Shizune, where the hell have you been?!"

Two things: number one, my mother never swears; not even when she burns her finger on the stove. And number two, why was she so concerned about me all of the sudden? As I look into her angry eyes – the very eyes I inherited – I realize I can't lie to her. My father, I can lie to all I want. But my mother is a different story.

I stare at my shoes. "Detention," I mumble.

"Detention?" my mother's voice is full of shock. "Why on earth did you get detention?" I numbly pull out the piece of paper that my calculus teacher wrote to give to my parent/guardian. I don't know what it says; I've been too scared to look.

My mother's eyes narrow as her eyes glance the strip of paper. She looks at me and I'm surprised to see hurt in her eyes. I was expecting disappointment. "You mouthed off to a teacher? Emi, I'm surprised at you."

The name she calls me makes my blood boil. It was my sister's special name for me. "He called my music trash, mom." I say with clenched teeth.

My mother's eyes soften a bit at that remark. "I can understand that, but it's no excuse to talk back to a teacher, dear."

I roll my eyes. "I already talked to the principal about this, mom. It won't happen again."

"I know, sweetheart, but – "

"Let it go, mom! It's no big deal!" I shout. The minute I say those words I wish I could take them back when I see the pain in my mother's eyes. I stomp up to my room, berating myself the whole way.

The weirdness doesn't stop there. My mother calls up to me later that night, "Phone is for you, Emiko!"

I drop the razor and grab the phone with my bleeding hand. "Hello?" I wipe the tears off of my face with my free hand.

"Hello, Miss Shizune, this is Kyoya."

Kyoya?!

"Uh….hi." I smack myself in the forehead at the stupid remark. Genius, Emiko – pure genius. "What's up?" I manage to squeak into the phone.

He stays as calm and collected as ever. "Since you weren't at the club today, I thought I should tell you that tomorrow the entire club is going over to Tamaki's house to swim in his indoor pool."

Swimming? Oh snap. My scars! "Sounds fun, but I can't go."

"Can't go? Why not?"

"I, uh…have plans." I say lamely.

He chuckles. "They sound like…exciting plans. I think we both know they are nonexistent." I sigh, not knowing what to say. "Please come. I'm sure Haruhi would hate to be the only girl there."

Damn. I dare say he's as stubborn as I am. "Fine," I say, running a hand through my hair.

"Excellent. I'll come pick you up tomorrow at 11 AM. Have a good night." And with that, he hangs up. I bury my face in my hands, not caring that blood is covering my face. Kyoya, the Kyoya Ootori, is coming over to my house to pick me up tomorrow? Geez, what will I wear? I shake my head at myself; this is so unlike me. But I guess that all people aren't like themselves when they've got a crush on someone out of their reach.