"How's it going?"

Starting, I twisted around on the piano bench to face the door and intruder. Elliot leaned against the frame, his arms crossed. Giving him a small smile, I shrugged. "As good as I can get with a week to work with."

Crossing the room, he came to stand next the piano, frowning. "What piece are you playing again?"

"Chopin's Nocturne in G minor," I told him, rubbing my forehead, "and yeah, I know it's pretty overused, but I don't really have enough time to learn anything more difficult... I already know most of this piece."

"Play it for me," he ordered.

I wrinkled my nose. "I don't—"

"Auditions are tomorrow after school, Allie. Let me hear you play," he demanded, narrowing his green eyes at me.

After puffing my cheeks out of him, I huffed, turning back to the piano. "I always mess up near the end, so..." No response came, so I began to play the piece, swaying slightly to the melody. Near the end, my hand slipped where it always did, and I grimaced. "Damn!"

"Use the pinky of your left hand to hold the flat note," Elliot instructed, taking my hand in his. "Like this... and then with your right thumb, hit the note you were hitting with your right pointer finger last time. Then move your pointer finger over."

It was a good thing he was guiding my hands, because his words weren't making any sense to me. Fortunately, the hand motions did, and the transition between the notes came more smoothly to me. Elliot instructed me to play the part again, and this time I was able to sail through it. Incredibly grateful, I beamed at him. "Thanks, Elliot. You're a lifesaver."

He shrugged nonchalantly. "It's rude not to help out an idiot."

"Hey!"

A grin spread across his face. "Just kidding."

For a second I stared at him, my heart skipping a beat at the handsome smile on his face. "You should smile more," I told him, feeling a grin of my own appearing on my lips. "It's very handsome."

His face instantly twisted into a scowl and a light blush dusted his face. "Shut up!"

I laughed. "You're so cute!"

"Call me cute again and I'll break your fingers."

"No you won't."

"Try me."

I stared at him for a second, pursing my lips. He scowled back at me threateningly. Deciding I'd rather not chance it, I kept my compliments to myself. "Can I hear your piece?" I inquired, changing the topic.

"No."

"Aw, come on! I showed you mine!"

Shaking his head, he crossed his arms. "You'll see it when I play it."

"Pretty, pretty, please? I begged, putting on my best puppy dog look. "Please Elliot?"

Turning his back to me, he shook his head. "No."

"If you don't play, I'll go around and tell everyone that you enjoy collecting cute women's panties," I threatened, barely holding back my smirk.

Pivoting back around, he glared daggers at me. "Fine!"

"Good!" I responded, sliding off the mahogany piano bench and patting it. "Have a seat, my fine feathered friend."

"We're not friends," he said shortly as he took a seat at the piano, a grumpy expression on his face.

I patted his soft, tousled hair. "Whatever you say, Mr. Moody Pants."

"Allie—"

"So what are you going to play?" I interjected, taking a seat on the edge of the piano top.

He glowered at me for one more moment before sighing. "Impromptu No.3 in G flat major."

I blinked. "For the audition?"

"Obviously."

"Wow, um..." That piece was on a much higher difficulty than my piece. Well, duh, a sharp voice in my mind said. It's a high standard audition, simple isn't going to cut it. I grimaced, knowing it was true. But it took me time to learn difficult pieces. For now I had to pray I could pass with a moderate piece. "Go on and play then," I urged Elliot.

And so he began. And my hopes fell. Leave it to Elliot to perfect a Schubert piece in under a week. Elliot really was the best piano player in our class, and nobody knew it because he refused to play in front of people. Even his fingering was perfect— not to mention his fingers themselves were perfect. Long and slender, like Paul's.

When he finished, I clapped my hands enthusiastically. Once again, he grew embarrassed and barked at me to stop. I laughed, hopping off the piano. "What? I can't help it. You're so good!"

"Whatever," he muttered.

"No, not whatever! You have enough talent to become famous. Why don't you show it off?" I asked, suddenly curious. Obviously he didn't like attention, but still...

He gave me a flat look. "Remember what happened when you showed off?"

Frowning, I nodded. "Yeah? So?"

"I'm not as calm as you, so if someone did that to me, I'd probably kill them," he told me matter-of-factly.

I opened my mouth, but wasn't quite sure whether I should say something, if anything, or laugh, or run away. While Elliot sounded serious while saying that, I knew he wouldn't kill them. Severely harm them, probably, but not kill. So I settled with a single sound. "Oh."

"Yeah. Which is also why I don't do shitty talent contests like Winter Wonder," he continued, standing up from the piano.

"But contests are a lot different than showing off in class," I protested.

Rolling his eyes, he motioned for me to sit back at the bench. "Maybe for you, but nor for me. Sit and play your piece again. Let's see if we can make it less choppy."

"It's not choppy," I muttered, dropping back onto the bench. "And if you hate contests so much, why did you agree to do this one?"

"Begin where you messed up," Elliot ordered, ignoring my question. "We're going to do it over and over until you have it perfect."

Turning my head up, I pouted at him. "That'll take forever!"

"Good thing you and I both don't have to go to work today."

"Are we even allowed to stay after school? Class ends in three minutes."

"Yes, we are, so get practicing," he demanded, a glower growing on his face. "Now."

Puffing out my cheeks, I rested my fingertips on the keys lightly. "Geez, I was just asking." When he didn't reply, I sighed and started playing my piece again. With Elliot hovering over me, I found it a bit harder to concentrate, and messed up more than before. On the fifth time, I let out a frustrated groan and slammed the keys. "Holy shit!"

"Go slower," Elliot suggested.

"Quit hovering!"

He narrowed his eyes. "No need to be a bitch."

"No need to be a bitch," I mimicked in a high-pitched voice.

To my surprise, he smacked me over my head. "I revoke my statement about hitting girls. Play again, and this time more slowly."

And so it went. After about three hours, my fingers were beginning to cramp, and I was sick to death of hearing Chopin. Although, I had to admit, my playing sounded much better than it had when we began. Still, any more and my fingers were sure to fall off. Finishing my last play through, I let my hands slide off the keys and I hunched my shoulders, letting out a weary sigh. "Am I done yet?"

Before Elliot could respond, a quiet buzzing filled the room. Seconds later, Elliot spoke. "Hello?"

I turned my head to look at him, realizing his phone was pressed to his ear. His face twisted into a grimace, but he nodded. "Yeah, whatever," he said gruffly. "See you soon."

"Booty call?" I teased as he hung up.

He shot a glare at me, bending down to retrieve his backpack off the ground. "Work."

"I thought you didn't have to?"

"Now I do."

"Oh," I responded glumly.

Elliot's face did that flickering thing it always did when he was about to ask a personal question. I couldn't help but smile at it. Finally, he settled on a blank expression. "Is something... wrong at home?"

"Eh."

"Are you and Paul in a fight again?"

"Well, I wouldn't call it a fight per se," I hedged, casting my eyes toward the ground.

After a brief moment, Elliot huffed, dropping his backpack to the ground. "Do you... do you want to talk about?" he ground out, sounding completely forced.

Again, I couldn't stop from grinning. It was amusing how Elliot had to force himself to be social and caring. "There's really not much to say. And don't you have work?"

"I can spare a few moments."

Biting my lip, I finally relented. "It's just been awkward. Like, polite stranger awkward, because last week we kinda got in a little spat, and after that we never brought up the topic again."

"What topic?"

"Oh, my kind-of-stalker and my flirting with Mr. Tucker and Paul's flirting with Olivia."

Elliot narrowed his eyes. "Stalker?"

"Yeah, some dude, or chick, follows me home sometimes," I commented nonchalantly. "No big deal. And Paul got angry that I didn't tell him."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Elliot demanded, crossing his arms. "I can understand why Paul got angry. You're under his care, and a stalker is a serious problem."

"Not it's not," I argued.

He glared at me. "It is."

"Whatever, it's settled anyway. Paul picks me up when I work now. But it's so uncomfortable, because we don't speak."

Now Elliot rolled his eyes. "It's just a lover's spat, you two will get over it."

"L-lover's spat?" I choked, my eyes widening. "Not even close—"

"Why else are you angry that he's flirting with Olivia? And him about Mr. Tucker?"

"Because... because..." My stomach turned as I attempted to come up with a rational reason. "She's evil and he shouldn't like her." There. That sounded reasonable enough.

Elliot cocked an eyebrow. "And about Mr. Tucker?"

I squared my shoulders. "Because everyone thinks he's a bad guy, which is crap."

"Not crap."

"Complete crap."

"Whatever, it's your life," Elliot said, shaking his head. "If I were you though, I'd just talk to Paul. I'm sure you can sort things out."

"Doubt it."

Rolling his eyes at me again, he bent down and retrieved his backpack once more. "Whatever, Allie. I suggest you head home before you practice so much you ruin it," he advised, heading to the door.

"I plan to," I told him, pushing up from the bench. "My fingers are dead."

Pausing with his hand on the door handle, he glanced back at me. "And I'm not sure if you've noticed, but Paul hasn't been flirting with Olivia all week." With that, he slipped out the door, closing it with a loud bang.

I froze, my mind going back to the past few days of class. Elliot was right. Paul had stopped flirting with Olivia, and giving her extra attention. Still, it was probably only because I'd noticed and he didn't want to get in trouble. Annoyed, I ran a hand through my hair, sighing heavily. What did it matter, anyway?

A knock at the door startled me from my thoughts, and I frowned at it. "What now, Elliot?"

The door opened slightly, and Mr. Tucker poked his head in. "It's not Elliot..."

I stared at him, surprised. "What are you still doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," he responded with a small smile. "It's just about six o'clock."

"Practicing for the auditions tomorrow," I told him, nodding toward the piano.

"How's it coming?"

I shrugged. "Not so bad. I think I'll pass the auditions."

"That's good," he said with a bright grin. "If you pass, we should go out for celebratory ice cream."

I smiled back at him, raising an eyebrow. "Sounds suspiciously like a date."

"Well, it could be, if you take it that way."

"Maybe I do."

"Maybe I do too," he laughed. "If that's okay. Not weird or anything."

Shaking my head, I brushed my bangs out of my face. "Definitely not weird... well, I guess a little weird. You're a teacher, but..."

"We'll just keep it a secret," he suggested, eyes mysterious and bright.

"Secret sounds alright," I agreed, barely managing to keep my smile from growing wider. No matter what anyone else said, Mr. Tucker was a good guy in my eyes. The only thing weird about us dating would be the age difference, but what did that matter? My parents were five years apart. Mr. Tucker and I were only three and a half, almost four.

Mr. Tucker glanced at the piano, his expression lighting up. "Hey, want to teach me something quick?"

"You said you played for like seven years."

"Hmm... I guess I forgot how to play. Teach me something?" he said again, a teasing grin on his face, now tapping at a few keys."

I followed his gaze, debating. My fingers were worn, but how could I give up a chance to teach a teacher something? "I hate you, but sure," I consented with a grin. "Have a seat, young Kyle."

"Of course, Ms. Heywood." Straightening out, he stiffly took a seat next to me on the piano bench.

I lowered myself back down, seating myself so that our thighs and shoulders pressed together. "Relax, otherwise your arm will cramp up."

Nodding, he loosened his posture, slumping slightly. "Now what?"

"Your choice. On Top of Old Smoky or Heart and Soul?"

"Oddly enough, I never tried to play either. Maybe you can teach me something."

"Heart and Soul it is."

Mr. Tucker, as it turned out, was a horrible student. Listening wasn't exactly his calling. Mostly he just wanted to bang around on the keys like a child. Which I didn't mind. It was both amusing and adorable. Eventually he became more serious and picked it up in probably thirty seconds. Something told me he had played it before. Still, together, we enjoyed playing our own little duet, until my hands could literally play no more.

"Do you need a ride home?" Mr. Tucker asked, seeming satisfied with his piano playing experience.

Hesitating a split second, I finally shook my head. It was still light out. "Nah, thanks though."

Nodding, he stood up. "Sure. I still have to lock up my classroom, so I'll see you tomorrow. I'll be there for moral support."

"Thanks," I laughed, "and don't forget that ice cream bit."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he responded with a wink. "See ya, Allie."

I waved. "Bye."

As soon as he was out of the room, I stood up and stretched, letting out a yawn. Pulling out my cell phone, I realized it was later than I'd thought, now almost seven. There were no text messages or missed calls on my phone, so I figured I wasn't worrying Paul yet. Which was weird. Because usually he was worry central...

Still, it was best not to squander any more time in the practice room. Humming to myself, I slipped out and shut the door behind me, heading back to the main classroom. I prayed Paul hadn't locked it, because my backpack was still in there. Luckily, it was open, so I hurried inside and to my desk. In my hurry I almost didn't notice the figure slumped against the main desk. Pausing, I squinted my eyes, and realized it was Paul, dead asleep on his desk.

"Paul?" I called, making my way over to him. Gently, I shook his shoulder. "Hey, Paul, wake up. Paul?"

With a low groan, he half-heartedly batted my hand away. "It's too early, Allie."

I smiled. "Actually, it's seven o'clock at night."

"What?" he cried, sitting up, eyes wide. "When did it... what are you still doing here then?" he demanded.

"Practicing," I said slowly, raising an eyebrow. "What about you?"

"I was... waiting for you," he mumbled, scratching his head. "Guess I fell asleep."

Confused, I blinked. "You were waiting for me?"

"Yeah... I don't want you walking anywhere alone. And I figured you were going to stay a little longer to practice when you didn't show up for your bag when class ended, so..." He shifted his gaze to the ground, looking uncomfortable.

My expression softened. "Oh. Thank you."

"It's no problem," he commented off handedly. "Are you ready to go then?"

Nodding, I shifted my back on my shoulder. "Yeah... Well, actually, I guess...um... I want to apologize."

Curious, he tilted his head at me, green eyes wide. "For what?"

"You know... being rude and whatnot this past week. I know you were just worried, and I shouldn't care if you like Olivia or not."

Paul smiled at me. "I don't like her, Allie, and thank you. I guess I shouldn't care about your crush on Kyle either, but..."

"Yeah, I know, you think he's a bad guy," I sighed. "But honestly, he's been nothing but to nice to me."

"So have I," Paul pointed out,

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Huh?"

Paul looked surprised. "Uh. I don't know why I just said that. Forget it. I should apologize too."

"You don't need to—"

"I do," Paul insisted. "For not telling you about the piano contest. That was really a prick move on my part. Is your piece coming along okay? I can help you tomorrow morning before the auditions if you want. But you practiced for a long time today so..."

A warmth spread through my chest and a smile grew on my face. "I think I'm okay, but I wouldn't mind the extra help."

Visibly relaxing, he smiled back at me. "Okay."

"So, are things cool between us again? No more awkward dinners?"

"God, no," he agreed, making a face. "This past week has been awful."

I nodded furiously. "Yeah, no, definitely. I never want that to happen again."

"Then let's not let it. If we ever have an issue with each other, we say it out right, okay?"

"Okay," I accepted, smiling again at him. "Why didn't we put that into place before?"

Paul grinned and shrugged. "I guess all people fight occasionally. It's normal."

"I don't like fighting with you," I told him.

His gaze softened. "I don't like fighting with you either, Allie Cat."

The nickname sounded so right coming from his mouth, unlike Mr. Tucker's. I missed it. Clearing my throat, I shook that thought away, hoping I wasn't blushing. "Should we go home then? I'm famished."

"Same," he replied, standing up from his desk. "I'll even cook—"

"No, that's okay. I don't feel like dying tonight."

This got him laughing, and I laughed too, enjoying the moment. Yes, it was much better when I wasn't squabbling with Paul.

___________________________

Well, it's been a long time. Life, busy. I won't make any excuses, but I will apologize profusely. So sorry about my lack of writing! But not to fret, it won't take another three weeks to update again. I'll do my best to make sure of that!

It's just one of those moods that you're like, I hate writing. Why do I bother? But this one has lasted a long time, which is weird...because I love writing. I don't know. Life. It sucks xD

My fanpage is in the external link! You should go like it :D