Lovina Vargas hated lunch.
She hated lunch even more than she hated physics with Mr. Herron, which was saying something. To many, this would seem an odd time of day to despise, especially if you take into account the Italian's rapt adoration for almost all things edible. However, the school cafeteria had become a harbor of rancid memories over the years, a memoir that never failed to elicit a scowl from the ill-tempered Italian.
Today was no different.
As the fiery junior neared the lunchroom from which a chorus of chattering could be heard, a scowl wormed its way onto her face. She was late to lunch as per usual, and as she slipped through the double doors, praying that Madeline's invisibility had finally rubbed off on her, a few dozen faces glanced her way. Had it been anyone else the eyes would have dropped back to the lunches of their respective owners, but seeing as it was Lovina, the school's favorite punching bag, they seemed to instead light up with interest.
Ducking her head, the red-head (whose hair was more auburn than red actually) shuffled to a table in the far back, where she plopped down in an empty seat beside her friend, Maddie.
"Oh, how are you today, Lovina?" Maddie asked politely, peeling the crust off of her PB&J sandwich as she glanced at her companion through thin-rimmed glasses. She was a petite girl, with pale ringlets that looped cutely towards the small of her back and large indigo eyes. She could often be seen sporting twin hair-clips in the shape of red maple leaves.
Being beside the blonde instantly soothed Lovina's frazzled nerves, and she began chewing on a tomato she had brought from home. She and the Canuck had been best friends ever since freshman year; they had met in art class, where Madeline, being the saint she was, helped a cursing Lovina ("Why am I even in this stupid class? Feliciana's the artist, not me!") paint Van Gogh's Starry Night.
"Shitty, as usual. But nothing too bad has happened today," the Italian answered, slurping tomato juice before it dripped down her wrist. The Canadian nodded, opening her mouth to speak when suddenly a hand shot out from Lovina's left and nabbed the tomato she was close to devouring. With little warning, the half-eaten tomato was crushed into the Italian's thick copper curls, causing watered-down red to drip down her cheeks.
"What the fuck?" the Vargas growled, whipping around to glare bullets (glaring daggers was so last century) at her tormentor. The red eyes of one Gilbert Beilschmidt stared back, his famous smirk accompanying.
"Red's definitely your color, babe," he replied, turning on his heel to leave a fuming, tomato-drenched junior in his wake.
"Fuck you, you German bastard!" she shrieked, tears of anger stinging her eyes as the lunchroom grinned in satisfaction.
"It's okay, Lovina, just ignore him," came a quiet, though strangely hard voice from beside her as its owner used napkins to dab Lovina's hair. The Italian sighed, realizing she had gotten off easy today.
"At least Feliciana has a different lunch period. She would've started bawling, especially since this is her shirt."
At a table across the room, Gilbert had just high-fived his best friend Francis before sitting down with the rest of his popular friends. The entire table was extremely good-looking, appearances ranging from Bonnefoy to Adnan. The former was a French-student equipped with a perfect head of golden hair and a nicely stubbled chin. He sported all the latest designers, docked from head to foot in flashy, if not downright outrageous, silks and colors. Sadiq Adnan on the other hand was usually dressed in black basketball shorts and a, most likely dirty, t-shirt. He, too, had stubble, and his body was, in all honesty, ripped from years of sports. However, Lovina's eyes caught sight of a new addition to the table, a boy with curly brown locks and startling green eyes; instead of guffawing with the rest of his friends at Gilbert's most recent prank, the boy stared worriedly at her, his face apologetic. The Italian, in turn, averted her eyes as a deep flush burned her cheeks.
Damn those good-looking bastards.
-break-
Madeline had never been one for backtalk, but as she blankly stared at the paper handed to her, a forceful, "No," burst from her lips. It was sixth period history, and the teacher had just assigned a summative project over ancient civilizations. This wouldn't have been so bad if the top of her paper didn't read: Name: Madeline Williams. Partner: Gilbert Beilschmidt.
The teacher clapped his hands, signaling that the students could sort into pairs now and begin working on their projects.
"Uh, Teach? I don't think my partner's in this class." a low, accented voice quipped from across the room as the albino waved his paper around wildly. The MIA partner in question frowned as the teacher glanced at the paper, checked the names on his roll call list, and returned with a, "No, Mr. Beilschmidt. Madeline is in this class, so hurry up, you're wasting time."
Sighing, the blonde stalked over to the idiotic German, nearly frightening him to death as he turned to search the room for his imaginary partner and was met with timid, violet eyes.
"Jesus, kid! Don't sneak up on me like that!" he shouted, clutching his chest as though she had burst from under his desk with a chainsaw. Madeline sighed.
"Look, I don't like you and I know you won't like me, so let's just hurry up and get this project over with, eh?" she said harshly, plopping down in the seat beside him, shrugging off her usually polite facade to instead coldly eye the boy who had earlier shoved a tomato into her best friend's hair.
"Hey, hey, what did I ever do to you? And you're kinda cute...are you new here?" the albino grumbled, his cheeky smirk returning when the girl's face burst into flames.
"N-no, I am not new. I've attended this school since freshman year. I was in your chemistry class, remember?" Gilbert's face went blank as he scrambled for any memories of a class he had rarely attended.
"Ah, n-nevermind,"the Canuck sighed, forced to accept that she was quite unmemorable around here. "Anyways, how about you come to my house today after school so we can start? I already know a lot about Ancient Egypt so we only have to look up a few more facts." The German (Prussian if you want to be really specific) grinned devilishly as he inched closer to the blushing blonde.
"Like a date?" he asked, raising one pale eyebrow as the other girls in the classroom glared jealously from afar. Madeline, noticing this and recalling Lovina's sopping head of tomato-juice, quickly stood from her seat so as to create distance between her and the albino.
"Let's get one thing straight, Gilbert. I will never, ever go on a date with you." she stated firmly, ignoring the confused expression that crossed his face.
"Huh? Why the hell not? I'm the awesome Gilbert Beilschmidt; every girl wants to go on a date with me!" he bellowed, eyebrows crinkled in incredulity. The bell suddenly rang, dismissing the class, and as Madeline turned to walk away she bit a small, "You're not my type," before scribbling her address on his arm.
"Come over at five, but don't think for a second that I like you."
As the Canadian hurried out the classroom, cheeks burning from her encounter with the narcissistic Prussian, Gilbert's dumbfounded face suddenly split into a grin.
"A challenge, huh?"
-break-
"You're late, idiota! We only have this room booked until the band's after school practice starts!" Lovina scolded, ushering her twin sister Feliciana into the room as the latter apologized profusely, abusing her fair share of ve's as she rushed towards the other two members.
"Ve, hello Alice, Madeline!" she greeted, giving each an exuberant hug as the small group of girls prepared for their daily seventh period practice. They had a gig booked at the local club two weeks from Friday on Halloween and had to perfect their act! "Oh, Alfred what are you doing here?" the younger Italian chirped as she saw Alfred lugging in a cart of instruments from the backroom. He plucked an acoustic guitar from the pile, hooking it up to an amp before responding.
"Ha, Maddie said you guys needed some help on the instrumental in that Unbreakable song. So, being the hero I am, I decided to offer my amazing guitar skills!" Alfred, Madeline's older half-brother, boasted, swinging the guitar to his front as the rest of the group took their positions.
"Okay, today we're obviously practicing my bad ass number!" Lovina announced, yanking the microphone from it's stand as she swigged back some water. Madeline who had grabbed another guitar from the pile of instruments her brother had dragged in plucked a few chords to warm up; she'd never been a strong guitar player so when forced to play she usually just strummed out the steady beat. Alfred was the one who could really rip some chords.
Alice, tying her hair into twin ponytails, situated herself on a seat before a flashy red drum set, a microphone placed in front of her so that she could do backup vocals. (Despite her being one of the smartest girls in the grade next to Madeline, she had always been a true punk.)
Feliciana happily ve'ed in front of an electronic piano while her older sister nodded to Alfred. The room suddenly was alive with music. [A/N: Look up the song Unbreakable by Fireflight right now!]
"Where are the people that accuse me?
The ones who beat me down and bruise me
They hide just out of sight
Can't face me in the light
They'll return but I'll be stronger
God, I want to dream again
Take me where I've never been
I want to go there
This time I'm not scared
Now I am unbreakable
It's unmistakable
No one can touch me
Nothing can stop me!
Sometimes it's hard to just keep going
But faith is moving without knowing
Can I trust what I can't see, to reach my destiny?
I want to take control, but I know better
God, I want to dream again
Take me where I've never been
I want to go there
This time I'm not scared
Now I am unbreakable
It's unmistakable
No one can touch me
Nothing can stop me!
Forget the fear, it's just a crutch that tries to hold you back and turn your dreams to dust
All you need to do is trust!
God, I want to dream again
Take me where I've never been
I want to go there
This time I'm not scared
Now I am unbreakable
It's unmistakable
No one can touch me
Nothing can stop me! (x2)"
"Ve, did we do good, sorella?" Feliciana chirped as the rest of the band grinned at their progress; the song sounded ten times better with Alfred's guitar.
"Well, I was flat on the second chorus, and Alice fumbled on the drums towards the end." Lovina stated plainly, though her lips were quirking into a smirk despite attempts to suppress it. Finally, she had found her talent, and, man, did it sound good!
"Let's do it again!"
While the band made ready for another go at the song, a pair of sparkling emerald eyes peered in curiously. The Spaniard outside was practically beaming, his sights trained on the spectacular singer.
"Dios mío, I think I'm in love!"