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There he was. Right there, walking towards his locker, which happened to be right next to hers, which meant that he was walking towards her, which meant that in a few moments he would be right next to her, which meant that she was going to have to say something that somewhat resembled normal conversation and pretend like she wasn't staring, which meant that she had to look into her locker and pre--

"Hey, Buffy," he said with nonchalance. Spike gave her a quick smile while he threw open his locker and continued his conversation with Xander about how his band was going to be playing at the Bronze.

"Hey, there," Buffy said, pretending to search for something of great importance. He was so close, but nothing. Nothing that made her any different from any other girl he'd gone to school with for the past three years--and that knowledge was slowly eating away at her. She sighed miserably.

"You alright?" Spike stopped for a moment and looked at her, her tired sigh making him politely concerned.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I just thought I brought something to school but I didn't, which means I'll have to figure something out or do something, you know, to figure out what to do. Uh, yeah, it's just my stupidity." Buffy looked down and threw her backpack on. "See you guys later."

“Wonder what’s wrong with her,” said Xander as he watched her quickly weave her way through the crowded halls. “She seemed fine this morning.”

“Yeah, well, you never know with these girls. Nice one minute, horrible the next. Although, with Buffy it seems to be more horrible than nice,” Spike muttered as he closed his locker.

“Actually, Buffy’s always nice to me. So, I guess it’s just you, my bleached friend. Maybe she’s always blinded by the whiteness of your hair, gets a headache, and lashes out at you, while when with she is soothed by the coolness of the Xanman and his dark chocolate locks. Wait, did I just say locks? Cuz, I was just kidding about that. Hehe.”

“It’s Anya’s influence. You’re starting to sound more and more like her. Better watch out--people might think you’re in looovve.” Spike smirked as he teased his friend about the steady girlfriend of several months--anything was better than talking about Buffy’s mood swings.

***

God, why did she always act so stupid around him? There were a total of two ways she acted around him. One: stupid. Stuttering, flailing for words--her, the star of Mr. Giles’ English class, second-guessing herself and belittling herself...that was Method One when he was around. Two: mean. There was something about him, something about her thinking about him, something about their proximity that made her throw psi-blades at him with biting accuracy. It was totally a defense mechanism, she knew. She was naturally sarcastic, and being genuine meant showing affection, which she obviously couldn’t do--she just couldn’t take the inevitable rejection. So she went with being mean--in a witty way, of course, but mean nonetheless. He didn’t like her in the way she wanted, but he sure as hell knew she existed.

“Ugh, why can’t I just act normal around him?” she thought to herself. Stupid or mean, such limited choices, but this morning she had just been stupid, and in all honesty, stupid was sometimes better than mean. Stupid didn’t make him hate her, just think less of her--and that was pretty normal for her. Meanness brought out the meanness in him, and he could be as harsh as she could, especially with the narrowing of the eyes and the tenseness of the jaw. Mean Spike could reduce her to stupid in 5 minutes, which meant she acted both ways around him. Or, Mean Spike brought out Meaner Buffy, which meant that she would keep stabbing him until he was willing to walk away and she collapsed in a mess of wounds.

Too much thinking! Buffy scolded herself. ”I’ll just go to class and hope that I can lose myself in Calculus and be grateful, for once, that this time around the alphabet falls in a way that puts Summers in the front row and Spike Summerfield in the last seat of the previous row.” Since they had five out of seven classes together, it was hard avoiding him after a negative meeting. But this was the only class where he didn’t sit directly in front of her, and right now it was her saving grace. She took notes and attempted to become immersed in the integrals and equations that were dancing on the chalkboard. ”At least I’m smart,” she thought to herself. “That’s gotta count for something.”

***

“So, are we up for starting the study sessions for the year? I vote Buffy’s house, ‘cause her mom’s the coolest and lets us stay late. I naysay Xan’s house because we always get stuck in the basement. And I would volunteer my house, but then I wouldn’t have an excuse to leave. So, Buffy’s?” Willow said with her eyes wide with excitement. She was always excited about studying, despite the groans that were making their way through the group’s lunch table.

“Well, count me in for Buffy’s. Her mom is definitely cooler than my mom, and plus, Dawnie has a crush on me. I can always use some ego stroking--ow, Anya.” Xander rubbed his ribs where Anya had ferociously poked him. “What’s the big deal?”

“You shouldn’t need stroking from other people, especially from someone who’s younger and clearly not me. Isn’t my stroking quite satisfying?” Anya asked, starting to pout.

“Yes, yes. I’m sure you guys stroke each other real well. But let’s not dwell on that excess of information, mm kay?” Buffy said, quick to change the subject. “My house is fine. I don’t really care one way or another, as long as you guys don’t mind Dawn’s annoying presence. She is such a pain sometimes. And Xan? She has gotten kinda tall and middle-schoolish, so I don’t think her crush on you is still intact. She might just roll her eyes and try to annoy you to death. Oh, and did I mention she’s annoying?” Buffy shoved a fry in her mouth with a vengeance. Dawn had a habit of bursting into her room when she wanted to be alone, eavesdropping on her conversations when the telephone was her one decadence, and following her around when there was nothing good on TV. Dawn’s tweenie stage was not in between childhood and adolescence; it was between spoiled brat and irritating teen. And she had a sneaking suspicion that Dawn’s crush on Xander was long gone, replaced by a much hotter Spike, which was just too close to home for her taste.

“Cool! So, the first Calc test is this Friday. Should we start tomorrow night, say 5ish? Oh wait, maybe we shouldn’t do the dinner thing. 7ish?” Willow asked, looking around at the group of seniors she lovingly referred to as the Scoobies. “Buffy? Is that good?”

“Yeah, 7 is good. Actually, let’s say 6:30. The earlier I can have outside company, the better.” She was thinking of ways to keep Dawn out of sight when Spike’s sexy voice broke into her thoughts.

“Why are you so down on Dawn? She seems fine to me.” Spike tried to keep the edge out of his voice, but Buffy always seemed so down on her sister, and he always thought people took it for granted that they had siblings, his having grown up a lonely only child.

“Yeah, well you don’t have to live with her day and night. She may seem sweet to you, but she’s got retractable claws. You’re just lucky she likes you.” With that comment, she got up and threw away her trash. “I gotta go return some books at the library. Will, you wanna come with?”

“Sure thing. I wanted to check out the new arrivals.” Willow gathered her stuff together to follow Buffy out of the cafeteria.

“Hey, did Buffy say Dawn liked me? Xan, you may have some competition,” Spike said, smirking and smacking him on the back. “I still think Buffy’s a little mean to Dawn, but whatever. I guess retractable claws are a Summers trait, eh?”

“Who knows? All I know is, Dawnie has the hots for me, not you. We’ll just see tomorrow night, won’t we?” Xan grinned, confident in the kid sister’s crush.

“Well, too much testosterone and not enough orgasms for me. I think I’ll go now. Xander, walk me to class?”

“Sure, thing. Spike, see you later.”

“Bye, guys.” Spike quickly finished his chocolate milk and threw his trash away. As he walked out of the cafeteria, he accidentally knocked someone’s notebook off a table.

“Oh man, sorry about that. Let me get that,” Spike said quickly, kneeling down to get the notebook and loose paper that had fluttered to the floor.

“Hey, no prob. Happens to everyone, even really hot ones. I’m Faith, by the way.”

“Faith. New here?” Spike said, arched eyebrow and blue eyes staring at her brazenness.

“Yeah, just moved from New York. You kinda looked like you’d understand a city gal like me, so I threw in my hook. It worked, yeah?” Faith flung back her hair and slouched in a way that looked casual but still showed off her cleavage.

“Well, you might be right at that. I’m Spike. I can show you round, if you’d like. You might be a little - aggressive, shall we say, for my crowd, but sometimes we just gotta rock the boat.”

“People tell me I’m pretty good at rockin’ the boat, so long as the boat’s good enough to rock.” Faith slowly looked him up and down. “I’m thinking it’s good enough.”

“Whoa there, babe. You’re lucky I’m a nice guy under all this sexy hotness.” Spike grinned, unused to such blatant flirting inside the high school. He was kinda enjoying himself, despite the warnings that Faith was not a girl to start up with. “You know where you’re going next?”

“Some kind of Biology. You wanna show me?” Faith stood up and waited expectantly.

“Sure thing, pet. Off to Bio we go.”

***





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