Yes, you are correct. I am starting a new multi-chap at the worst possible time! So expect many delays with updating because of a cramped schedule involving dance, school, and sleep that never allows me the time or energy to write!

Fabina fans, don't worry, I haven't switched sides. How could I with the dozens of Fabina stories that I've favorited and the ten I've written myself? No, I just had a plot bunny roaming around, and it was nagging at my brain to write it.

Strange how I always seem to start off with Nina's POV in my multichaps. Even though I've only written two . . .

~Nina's POV~

Summer of dreams . . . Summer of wishes . . . Summer of hopes . . . Summer of love . . .

The possible song titles ring through my mind as I enter my bedroom, seeing my notebook perched on my colorful quilt, just as I had left it only a few moments ago.

I finish the Special K, chocolate granola bar in my hand, crumbling the wrapper in my hand and tossing it into the waste basket that sits beside my desk. The wrapper slowly unfurls and lands five feet away from the basket. I groan in frustration, but jump nearly three feet in the air when I hear a voice sarcastically say, "Nice shot, Nina."

I swivel around to face Patricia Williamson, in all her attitude and glory, smirking at me, probably because of my terrible aim.

"Thanks, Patricia," I reply in a sardonic tone. As I grab the wrapper and drop it in the trash can, I notice Patricia bending over the notebook on my bed, reading everything on the page that I have stupidly left open.

"Don't look at that!" I say, rushing over to cover my work from her curious eyes.

"What? All you have done here are a few names, like 'Summer of hopes,' Summer of love' . . ." I see her eyes scanning the words, and she laughs out loud. "What is this?"

"It's nothing!" I try to grab for the notebook, but she puts it out of my reach, above her head as she continues to read off the words on the page.

"'You're the key to my heart, the love of my life. The one who catches me when I fall'? What, are you starting to write poetry, Nina?" she snickers.* I scramble to grab for the notebook, but to no avail: she has longer arms than me, so even though I'm at the same shoulder-level as her, the notebook is still out of my reach.

"Give it to me!" I cry in exasperation.

"No, 'please'?" Patricia teases.

"Please give it to me, Patricia," I say through clenched teeth. She laughs again, and is about to say something when she is interrupted by Gran coming into the room.

"Nina, dear. Your friends are waiting downstairs for y-" She looks at us, both grappling for my notebook. "What is going on here?"

Patricia opens her mouth to reply, and I snatch the notebook away from her when she is distracted. "Ha!" I yell in triumph.

"Again, I repeat, what is going on here?" Gran says sternly.

"I read some of Nina's diary or something . . ." Patricia says simply. "Sorry."

Gran raises an eyebrow in question at me, and I shrug, not sure what else to say. Gran shakes her head at us, and then says, "Your friends are downstairs . . . well, the other ones." She adds the last bit with the faintest trace of a wry grin.

"Okay, thanks. I'll - er, we'll - be down in a minute," I say with a small smile. Gran nods, and walks out of the room, though I can see her shaking her head and muttering, probably about how crazy my friends and I are.

I clutch the notebook to my chest, moving over to my desk and opening the drawer. I drop the notebook in my drawer, close it, and then use a key from a charm on my bracelet to lock the drawer. I swivel on my heel, amd walk out the door to meet my other friends from Anubis House. From the sound of shoes on hardwood floor, I can tell Patricia is following me.

"Hey Nina," Mara calls from the bottom floor when I turn the corner of the stairs. I see her and Jerome standing there, both lugging suitcases behind them.

I grin, moving down the stairs at an even faster rate. I hug each of them in turn - yes, even Jerome - while Gran goes off into the kitchen to probably finish lunch.

"You're just in time. Lunch's almost ready - Gran's making beef stew," I say excitedly.

Jerome's face falls. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Nina. I forgot to tell you that I'm a vegetarian."

I have a small feeling that he is lying, based on the memories of him and Alfie scarfing down the platters of bacon that Trudy always gave us for breakfast, but maybe he became a vegetarian after the year had ended?

"Oh, I am so sorry!" I begin to apologize, but I am cut off by Patricia saying,

"Since when are you a vegetarian? Just yesterday, you were bragging that you were eating a steak, while I was stuck with my mum's awful cooking."

"Oh, c'mon Patricia. Can't you let me trick little Nina, here? Have some fun, won't you?" Jerome says with a scowl.

I hit his shoulder, a little annoyed that I fell for his trick, but also amused by his quip. It is true: I am gullible, but not so much that I would believe that "gullible" is written on the ceiling.

"Jerome, stop it. Don't trick Nina, we're supposed to be polite guests," Mara chastises him.

He seems to bite back a reply, only shaking his head and biting his lip, as if stifling a laugh. He picks up his suitcase by its handle, holding it more than a foot off the ground. "Need help with your bag, Mara?" he offers, holding out a hand for hers.

She only shakes her head. "Thanks, but I've got it."

"I'll show you to your rooms," Gran says, suddenly appearing by my side.

"Thank you," Mara chimes cheerily. Jerome nods with a small smile, like he is still laughing at his little trick, and they both follow Gran upstairs.

I face Patricia, who is leaning against the banister and examining her nails. "So, do you know when everyone else is coming?" she asks.

I begin to tick the list off of my fingers, remembering my hours of memorizing the schedule for the first and last days of everyone's visit. "You were supposed to come at one, but apparently you got here early." I shoot her a look, one she blatantly ignores, and I continue," Um, Fabian is coming at three, along with Amber and Alfie. You texted me that Mick and Joy are getting in at about six, just in time for dinner. And then Eddie is coming . . .?" I end the last bit with a question, hoping that she will fill in the blanks.

"He'll be here in ten, says my phone," she says, holding up her phone where a message states: B ther in 10.

"Oh, good," I say meekly, shifting uneasily from foot-to-foot.

"You okay, Nina?" Patricia inquires, touching my shoulder. A sly smile spreads across her face, her eyes lighting up in understanding. "Wait. Are you still freaking out about the whole Paragon and Osirian thing?"

My look makes her laugh out loud. I blush scarlet red. "Nina, relax, nothing has changed. Eddie may be this new, powerful Chosen One, but he's still the same Eddie. You may be the other Chosen One, but you're still Nina. Okay?"

I nod. "Okay, right. I'm fine. Fine."

But I suppose I wasn't fine, since the moment the doorbell rings, my heart jumps straight into my throat. I take one more shaky, deep breath and open the door to face my counterpart, the Osirian, Eddie Sweet.

He seems a little surprised to see me, judging from his raised eyebrows and his reply of "Uh, hi, Nina."

I smile softly, but before I have to say anything, Patricia appears beside me and hugs her boyfriend, taking him by surprise.

"Eddie, hey! I missed you!" she says happily.

"Hey, Patricia," he says, returning her hug.

"I'll show you to your room," Patricia says, taking him by the hand and leading him off, while I am still standing at the doorway with words of greeting left on my lips.

. . .

"Gran, need any help with dinner?" I ask. She is hunched over the oven, fiddling with something on the cookie tray that is inside.

"Um, yes, dear. Could you get the plates from the cupboard? I didn't realize how many people were coming, so I haven't got enough on the table," Gran says.

"The blue and white ones?" I ask, seeing the stack of plates on the fifth shelf from the bottom. It is just within my reach, thankfully.

"Yes, Nina. Thank you," Gran replies.

I reach up to grab the plate and my fingers barely graze the rim. I grumble in annoyance, but reach on the toes of my shoes to grab the plates. But I misjudge my reach, because a plate teeters on its edge and begins to tumble down toward me.

I am frozen for a moment, not able to move or react, but the next things happen as if I am watching them in slow motion. A hand reaches up and grabs the plate out of harm's way. Another hand steadies my back, making sure I do not stumble backwards onto the floor.

"Whoa. Be careful, Nina," says Eddie, holding the plate in his hand. He's looking at me with concern, as if he wants to be sure that I am not going to fall to pieces in his arms.

I shake my head, blinking rapidly in confusion. I notice him put the plate down on the counter, then grabs the rest of them from the shelf. He stacks them all together and hands them to me.

"Uh, t-thanks for the help," I stammer, still not able to form a coherent sentence. It's not that I'm embarrassed - okay, yes, I am embarrassed that I nearly shattered one of Gran's plates - but more stunned that it was Eddie, of all people, who saved the plate from crashing on my head.

"No problem," he says, giving me a ghost of a smile, and looking me in the eye, like he is assuring himself that I can still stand on my own without his help. Then, he is gone, with me standing there, clutching a stack of plates in my arms.

I realize that I am blushing fiercely, but not for reasons that most people would expect. No, I do not like Eddie, I am just completely embarrassed that I had to be saved from plates that were going to crash on my head, which would have resulted in my getting a concussion. I must have looked like one of those stupid, swooning girls that he claimed he flirted with.

I push my thoughts to the side and focus in on Gran. "Where do you want these plates, Gran?" I ask.

"Just on the counter there," she says, now stirring around something in her big, stainless steel pot. From the scent wafting in the kitchen, the stew is almost ready. My mouth waters, but I am more intent on getting back to my room than to wonder about lunch.

I place the plates on the counter beside the stove, Gran flashing me her kindest smile, and I nod, giving her a silent "You're welcome." Then, my feet are moving me without my own thoughts put into consideration, and they are racing toward the front door. My hands yank open the door, allowing me to continue my mad dash for the clean, crisp air of the summer that awaits me outside.

Hands catch me before I can barrel into the person, and I look up in confusion, only to be met with bright, sparkling blue eyes. All of a sudden, I am completely self-conscious about my appearance, knowing that my crazy run has caused my hair to act up and turn into a nest fit for pigeons in the center of New York City, while my makeup must be smudging from all of the humidity and sweat.

In other words, if Amber ever saw me like this, she would have a conniption.

"Nina?" he questions, worry laced in his voice. "Are you okay?"

"F-Fabian!" I manage to say, a hint of happiness in my voice, but also one of pure befuddlement. I am not sure if I'm ecstatic or nervous that he is here now.

But why? I tell myself. He's my boyfriend, and he's staying over for the summer - I should be overjoyed to spend a few weeks with him without drama and homework!

I tuck those thoughts into a mental drawer for later, and throw my arms around my amazing boyfriend, trying to mask my mess of emotions as relief to finally see him after only a few weeks of being apart. Honestly, school ended only two weeks ago, and when I left I had not sounded heartbroken that we would not see each other for the summer - and at the time I had not known that all of Anubis House would be coming to America to stay with me and Gran. But back to the previous topic, we can Skype and text and call each other, so what is there to miss? Even though he is going to be in England and I in America for most of the summer, he is going to be at my side practically the entire summer, thanks to phones and the Internet . . . and this little vacation for Anubis House.

I return to my current position, hugging Fabian, practically to death. "I missed you," I whisper in his ear.

Okay, that is true. The decent resolution of the computer screen is nice, but I missed seeing his gorgeous face in person. Apparently he feels the same way, because he presses his chin onto the top of my curly brown hair, murmuring the same thing.

I pull away, returning my eyes to the beautiful blue orbs that I adore so much, and I can not help but pull his face to mine, so that we meet in a passionate, but blissful kiss.

But I can not stop those nagging thoughts that I tucked in the drawer a few moments ago - the ones that just have to question everything: why am I so skittish around Eddie now? since he is the Osirian and I am the Paragon, do we need to be in a relationship or something? is the scene in the kitchen evidence that he is now my protector?

And most importantly, where's Perry?

Sorry about the last line. As you can probably tell - and if you can't, I suggest you go eat a bunch of chocolate and wonder what I'm talking about - I am a Phineas and Ferb fan. Not gonna add the reasons why, I'm trying to cut these A/Ns fairly short, which is obviously not working. But that line was just . . . too perfect not to include for Nina's rambling!

*: the song title thing will be explained in the next chapter, I just needed a good beginning for this chapter.

Note: Every two chapters I'm going to be switching POVs!

Please review?