The Fangirl- Chapter 8 [2/2]

Chapter Summary: Sadiq's life just continues to suck as he tried to figure out how to deal with a heart broken girl

Warnings: Strong Language, Sexual References, Yaoi, Yuri, Brief OC X Canon

Disclaimer: We do not own Hetalia, Howl's Moving Castle, Titanic, and The Little Mermaid.

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~Chapter 8~

Apparently, My Heart Will Go On [Part 2 of 2]

"The best thing about tonight's that we're not fighting
Could it be that we have been this way before?
I know you don't think that I am trying.
I know you're wearing thin down to the core."

-From "Fall for You", An American song by Secondhand Serenade

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Cycle 11: Monday

Ten minutes later, the movie was on paused and we were meandering down the dark hallways (apparently we were not breaking the curfew, since there was none. Everyone attending the school was around a hundred years old so it really didn't matter). All I knew was that I had to accompany him somewhere. Multiple times, as our heels clicked loudly on the floors, I imagined where it could be. The bar? The clocktower? Where?

As our path took us to the boy's dormitory, I thought that maybe we were going to the Turk's dorm. I could imagine how it looked: a clear version of Seychelles except with random Turkish trinkets decorating the desk and walls.

The dormitory hallway was like the girl's: narrow and lined with door after door after door. Even in the dark, the nation seemed to know where he was going. At last, he stopped by one in particular. "Here we are," he said sully. For a long moment, we just stood there in a frightened silence. I waited for him to do something. Suddenly, his hand shot out and grabbed mine tightly. "Can you introduce me?" He asked. "I can handle it from there; just tell them that I need their help."

I gave him a wide eyed look. I was grateful for the dark- he wouldn't be able to see the heat gathering in my cheeks. "Why is he so scared?" I wondered, seeing the silhouette of his down facing visage. "Who could these people possibly be?" I threw my courage to the sticking place and bravely knocked on the door.

Anyone want to guess who was on the other side?

"Seychelles, it's past midnight." I tried to keep my cool demeanor as England answered the door. In all truth, I did not see that one coming. I was more prepared to have seen Atila the Hun, not the silly Brit. But sure enough, said Brit was there. He had a fluffy maroon robe wrapped around his lanky frame. His sand-colored hair was messy and he was rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He didn't seem to notice Sadiq. "What in the Lord's name is a matter?" he asked.

Just as I opened my mouth to play my role, another voice piped up. "My little bunny, did you just say that Seychelles is here?" France appeared at the door . . . wearing nothing. Absu-fricking-nothing. I averted my eyes, trying not to look at the Eiffel Tower. Apparently the rose of censorship did not appear automatically. Well at least they were having sex.

My 'Papa' gave me a concerned look, fully awake and checking me from head to toe. "Are you alright, my dear?" he asked, sounding a little panicked. "Did something happen?"

The spotlight shined on me. Gulping, I stepped to the side and motioned to my mentor. "England, Papa, this is Turkey," I introduced, trying not to sound awkward. "He wants to talk to you two about something."


England and France exchanged a quick 'oh shit' glance. Both the blonds cleared from the doorway. "Please come in," the green eyed one said. Their dorm was much like mine. The differences I saw were the fact that the window and bathroom had switched places. Pictures of the French scenery decorated the white walls. The bed was a mess and clothes were recklessly strewn across the room. I grinned pervertedly as England quickly cleaned it up.
Meanwhile, France tied a robe around his hairy body. "I have not talked to you in forever, Turkey," he said, pulling up a chair for them both. "I presume that you are doing well?"

Sadiq nodded respectfully. "I'm still not used to being treated like a student all the time," he said. I gawked at him. He sounded rather respectful, like Japan to, well, everyone on the face of this planet.

The other smirked. "None of us are." He leaned back, twirling a wavy lock around his finger. England, in lighting speed, straightened the bed sheets and invited me to sit next to him. I looked between him and Sadiq. He still looked terrified. Retaining a sense of purpose, I chose to sit on the floor next to him and place a hand on his penny loafer. A small motion that sent him comfort and England a curious look.

"But why are you here, Turkey?" The Brit asked. "If it's a student council matter, it could wait until the morning."

He shook his head. "No, it's . . . different." He looked down again. From my angle, I could see the difficulty in his eyes. He was so obviously fighting to spit the words out, but there was something holding him back. His fear made me afraid. Whatever it was, it was big. I found my hand moving from his shoe to Sadiq's hand. I squeezed it, reminding him that I was there. I knew that the 'FrUk' noticed, but I didn't care.

Sadiq looked up, gaining a kind of courage. "France, back during the 1400s, there were many gypsies living in your country, right?"

Seychelles's Papa nodded. "That is correct. Why do you ask?"

He took a long breath. "Did you learn any of their arts?" he asked. Where was he going with this?

The other was thinking the exact same thing. With hesitance, he listed them off: "Fortune telling, palm reading, tarot cards, dancing, hypnosis-"

"I need you to hypnotize me." The air grew heavy. We all gave him looks filled with confusion and shock. Why would he need to do that? I looked up at him, eyes begging to know why. But Sadiq only looked stubbornly at France. If he wanted to be hypnotized, he was going to get it. And we all knew it.

Still, England was the first to ask the reason. The Turk's grip tightened significantly as he sadly explained, "I need to be hypnotized into hating someone."

England raised a thick eyebrow. "Who?"

The answer no one saw coming. "I need to hate Poland."

My head was sent into a spin. All of us were too stunned to say anything. I was speechless, breaking my gaze and darting my eyes around the room. Why would he do that? I could find no reason for him to do something so drastic. Even I knew that Sadiq was madly in love with the Pole. "So why?"

"Poland is your boyfriend," France, the first to recover, said. "Why would you want to do that?"

"It's necessary." The couple tried to get him to tell them why, but that was the only reason he gave them. Meanwhile, I sat in stiff silence, unsure of what to think. The crack pairing was finally breaking up, so shouldn't I be happy instead of dreadful? "I'll pay you in any way I can," Sadiq said. "Just please, I beg of you, do this for me."

France bit his lip, thinking to himself. "By having this change made, is the better of the world being kept in the best interest?" he asked, sounding like a mature adult. A mature adult that was, for some reason, interested in the world's well-being. Eh, I wasn't going to question it.

"More than you know."

There was brief silence as he thought it over. At last, he agreed. "Fine. Let's just say that you owe me a favor. England, can you-"

"Can you use this watch?" Sadiq pulled out his sacred pocket watch. Realizing that he might have overstepped his boundaries, he quickly added, "That is, if it's suitable. You don't have too." I could feel the weight and significance of it. It was as if the Turk was silently telling that the jackass was the reason for this eccentric behavior.

The blond look at it for a moment. His blue eyes scrutinized it, checking it for any visible damages. He gently took it from him and clicked it open. The stray hand on its white face was now pointing at the eleven. "Turkey, this is a very beautiful watch," England piped, gazing at it from afar. "Where did you get it?"

Even I was curious to the answer he was going to give. I had always presumed that it was Poland, but who was I to know? Sadiq looked at it was a blank face and lied; "A friend gave it to me."

France clicked it shut and handed it back to him. "Unfortunately, the whole 'hypnosis with a pocket watch' trick is more of a myth than anything." Really? Damn, it would have been so symbolic if he used that watch. What it would symbolize, I had no idea, but it would have been kick ass.

My friend's honey eyes drifted downwards. "I see. My mistake." Gently but protectively, he snatched the pocket watch away and hid it in his pocket. "Let's get this over with."

Like a knight protecting his princess, I refused to release Sadiq's hand as the hypnosis took place. "This is very simple, but requires just a bit of trust," France said, promptly preparing him. "In this state, your conscience will be numbed and your mind will be an open book to read."

"Just don't ask me any personal questions," the other replied. "Do the deed and nothing else."

"That is perfectly understandable. Should Seychelles leave the room?"

I shot my 'Papa' an irritated glare. I would cement my ass to the carpet if I had to; I was not going to miss out on this. Luckily, Seychelles's ass was to be spared. "She'll make sure that you two don't do anything you shouldn't," The Turk said, squeezing my hand.

He was trembling.

I returned the pressure.

France and England exchanged one last look. The tsundere was begging his boyfriend to stop, but he didn't listen. The Frenchman sighed and held the watch up. "Here we go . . ." He scooted his chair closer. "Place your hands on mine," he instructed. His patient slowly released mine and did suit. My palm, though sweaty, felt immediately chilled. With no other option, I placed my hand back on his shoe.

"Look into my eyes and continue looking until I say something." With each command the nation faithfully did as he was told, no emotion on his face. The blue eyes of the hypnotizer were blazing in concentration, making sure he did everything right. "In a moment I am going to count to three. Press down on my hand and I'll be pressing up against your energy and simply follow my instructions instantly."

He took a deep breath. "One . . . two . . . three push, push, push". The hands, idiot, not whatever pervy thought we were both thinking. "I need you to push harder." That time, I had to giggle, causing England to shoot me an acid glare.

France ignored my distraction and placed his hands over Sadiq's eyes, as if shading him from the sun. Slowly, he caressed it downward, completely involved in the fluid movements. "Now as you continue to press down on my hand I want you to develop a feeling in your eyes like you're up much too late at night watching an old black and white movie," France drawled, sounding as gentle and informative as a therapist treading through the mind of a serial killer. "You should go to bed, but you're just so tired. You feel your eyes so droopy . . . and closing . . . and drowsy . . . and . . . sleep!"

In a blink of an eye, his hand was slipped away. Sadiq's eyes were closed shut as if asleep, but he was sitting upright as if he was awake. England and I stared at him, realizing that France had really done it- my mentor was in a trance.

But satisfaction was far from earned. France kept his professional atmosphere and continued with his job. "Turkey, you can hear my voice and only my voice," he ordered. "It is the only sound in your world. Only my voice." Sadiq didn't reply, just sat there.

The blonde took a long breath, preparing himself for the actual maneuver. I rubbed my hand over the penny loafers. It was more for my comfort than his. France said, "Turkey, you have known Poland for a very long time. He is a constant well of energy and joy and can never stop talking. That is why you hate him. His optimism drives you insane. The very thought of Poland makes your blood boil. Just mentioning him makes you angry. You would never hurt him, but you will always hate him with a burning passion. Understand?"

Like a mindless drone, my mentor responded, "Understand. I despise Poland."

"You have no memory of every feeling romantic towards him either. You only hate him. You have no memories of dating Poland or having him as your boyfriend. You hate Poland. Understand?"

"Understand."

France visibly shone with relief, allowing a small smile to stretch in his face. "Good. Now-"

"Why did you want to hate Poland?" England suddenly demanded. His eyebrows were furrowed together in concentration.

A flash of protectiveness struck me. "You can't ask him that!" I snapped quickly, rising to my feet. Anger pricked my skin and made my head spin. "He wouldn't tell you before, so-"

"Seychelles, calm down." France didn't move from his spot, only motioned for me to sit down again. "He can only hear my voice, no?" I felt my nerves ease away from the edge and I started to sit back down. "He didn't hear England asking him why he wanted this-"

"Poland was in danger." All of us froze. Sadiq was still in his trance, speaking without thinking. "I acted irrationally and the jackass might hurt him like he hurt me. I couldn't let that happen."

My glares switched between the two blonds. I was going to skin them alive and feed them to Hanatamago. France's eyes went wide with the realization of what he had done and he scrambled for a way to end it. England, however, only had his interest heighten. "And who is this jackass?" he asked, fully aware that he couldn't hear him.

The sweet, innocent look on his face drove me over the edge. "Bastard!" This time, when I jumped to my feet, I didn't hesitate to leap at him and slap him across the face. The Brit spend a split second in surprise before catching me unawares. He grabbed my arms and defensively held them away. I fought against him for a few moments before losing all the fuel my anger had to offer.

Plus, Sadiq was coming out of the trance. How, you may ask? France just stood and bitch slapped him across the face.

Seems legit to me.

The Turk groaned, rubbing his hand along his jaw. "What the hell . . ." he muttered, wincing at the red spot. His eyes traveled around us, trying to work out the puzzling scene before him. He was probably wondering why England was holding my arms while having a similar red, blotchy face. "What's going on?" he asked. "Where am I? What happened?"

My face fell. "What if he doesn't remember me?" I was terrified of the very thought of it. If he had no idea who I was, then I was alone in this strange world. I could only silently beg, "Please remember me."

"You were just hypnotized," France said, moving his chair back to his desk. "Temporary memory loss is normal after such an intense session."

Sadiq's mouth dropped. "What did you do?" he demanded, glancing over to England and I. His eyes met mine for a split second before returning to the Frenchman. Adjusting his robe, the blond explained to him his own request. He failed to mention our little mishap and Poland having used to be his boyfriend.

Sadiq only shook his head. "But why would I need hypnosis for that?" he demanded. "I already hate Poland with a passion." A vein in his forehead popped with irritation as he rambled, "God, that guy just annoys the daylights out of me. Always happily chirping his 'like's and 'totally's."

His hatred seemed so tangible, that I couldn't help but to be in total awe. I yanked my arms free from the Englishman and approached the Turk. "Well I made sure that those two idiots didn't ask you anything too personal," I said. A small voice in my head told me to test and see if he would believe me. After all, if he knew that I was Sherry Sue, he would have complete faith in me.

Or at least I would like to believe that.

"I'm sure, Seychelles-" Yup, he remembered me. There was a knowing glint in his eyes when he said the nation's name. "-that France and England would never attempt to do anything like that. Right?"

The two men grinned sheepishly. "Of course not," England said quickly. "I am a gentleman and no gentlemen goes against his word of honor." Ha, ha, lying bastard.

Sadiq rose to his feet. "Well I think I remember talking to you two about this," he said confidently. I noticed his hand lingering over the pocket the golden watch was in. "France, thank you. If you ever need a favor, just tell me when and I'll do it. But right now it's late and I think that we all need your sleep."

France nodded. "Yes. We have a lot of work in the morning. We have to get ready for the prom on Thursday, no?"

We both grimaced at the thought. Sadiq and I exchanged a few more 'thank you's and 'goodnight's before finally leaving the dorm. The minute we were in the dark hallway, the door shut behind us, we sighed and leaned against the wall. "That was exhausting," I complained, sliding to the floor. My legs felt dead with the lack of energy. It was in the very early morning hours and all I wanted to do was to sleep.

Sadiq cracked his neck. "I know." After a minute of regaining the feeling in his legs, he looked at me. The nighttime shadows shield his face from me, but I could sense the smile on it. "Come on Sherry, we need to go to sleep. You have to start getting that kiss tomorrow."

I groaned. If I wanted to, I could just sleep there on the nice, cold wood floors. But this was Mr. I-Like-To-Hang-People-Out-Of-Windows we were talking about. It was either that or a much worse fate.

Like Pilates.

Shiver.

I allowed Sadiq to pull me to my feet tired feet. "I'll walk you back to your room."

For a long time, we walked in a mutual silence. I was afraid to break it, but he seemed rather content in it. That was fine by me; I could start falling asleep as I walked. "Hey Sherry."

And there goes the peace and quiet. "What?"

"Thank you." I paused in my tracks. Sadiq continued a few paces before realizing that I had fallen behind. He stopped a few paces ahead of me and turned. We were in front of one of the grand windows. It framed a picture of a midnight world, the nearly full moon flooding in through the glass.

The white light gleamed on his dark face, showing me his quirked eyebrow. "Is something wrong?" he asked, hands smoothly in his pockets.

In my head, I debated the risks. What he said about the jackass was still nagging me. It seemed to perfectly correspond with what Seychelles said earlier. I wanted to ask him about it, but wouldn't he just push me away? "He never tells me anything," I thought grimly, taking a long breath. "But it wouldn't hurt to try."

Quelling my fears, I gathered the nerves to confront him. I tried to add a fierce spark in my voice and eyes. "Sadiq, you've been acting strange," I said, treading carefully. His eyebrow only rose higher. So far, so good. "Is something wrong?"

He stared at me blankly for a moment, registering my question. If he had any consideration in telling me, he ignored it. "Nothing's wrong, Sherry. Why do you ask? Was it the movies?"

I shook my head. "No, I get why you did that. I mean . . ." I trailed off.

The Turk's steps were as clear as day, though I didn't realize that he was moving until he was looming above me. I gulped and cowered into myself. He looked extremely intimidating. "Sherry, what is it?" he asked again, sounding calm, but deadly.

" . . . What did you do?" His eyes grew wide. I paused, unsure of whether I should push more. He hasn't hurt me yet, so why not? "You said that you screwed up and now the jackass-"

It didn't register that he was choking me until my back was slammed painfully into the glass windows. I tried to scream out, but my restricted airways wouldn't allow me. It hurt. The edges of my vision were turning fuzzy and it was hard to concentrate. Sadiq glared at me, unrelenting and unmerciful. "Who told you that?" he demanded, pulling me off the plane just to throw me back against it. "Damnit, who fucking told you?"

Clawing at his hand, he finally loosened enough for me to spit out a sound. " . . .Y-you. . . di . . .d." I held my eyes shut, afraid to look at him any longer. This was not a good idea. Damnit, what the hell gave me the stupid idea in the first place?

Suddenly, his hand was gone. I slid to the floor, coughing and regaining my breath. Sadiq was staring down at me, horrified at himself. He was panting as heavily as I was coughing. "The worst is over," I told myself, curling into a ball on the wood floors. "He wouldn't do it again." I had to admit, what he did next was bad, but at least it didn't nearly kill me.

Sadiq knelt and grabbed my shirt collar. He roughly lifted me, making sure that I was staring him straight in the eyes. "When did I tell you this?" he growled. I didn't answer, only held my eyes shut and cried salty tears. He shook me. "Answer me!"

"In your trance. When France asked you about your feelings on Poland, you started muttering about it." It was a lie, but at that point I just wanted him to stop. There was a few seconds where the only movement was from my tears.

Then his chest was in my face. Another ring of fear sung through my body. What the hell was he doing? Was he trying to suffocate me? It wasn't until he was chanting "I'm sorry" did I realize what was going on. He wasn't hurting me; he was hugging me.

"I'm sorry, I overreacted," he said, speaking into my mass of hair. "I wasn't thinking." For a minute, neither of us did anything but sit there. Sadiq must have been waiting for me to say something, but I never did. I only cried in self pity.

It seemed like forever before he started explaining himself. "To answer your question, yes, I did screw up. I got angry and I did something I shouldn't have and now that jackass is mad at me." He ran his hand through the ends of my hair, pressing his wry smile into my scalp. "I was worried about it hurting someone, but I can't remember who." The smile disappeared as quickly as it came.

"As part of my punishment, he took away most of our tries," he said. My attention was sparked. The serious weight of the situation paused my tears and made me look at him. The moon shadowed the guilty look on his face. "Sherry, we only have two more left."

I stopped breathing. My body started to tremble in fear. "What happens if we don't win?" I sniffled, looking up at him. Seychelles's brown eyes were large and pleading to know the answer.

Sadiq looked down at me, pressing his lips together. His eyes were tired, full of unthinkable pains and struggles. He sighed. "I don't want to think about it."

It was silent. Still sniffling, I wiped away the remains of my tears. The whites of my eyes were as red as blood. "Then we'll just have to win," I told him, putting on a mask of fake confidence. A forced smile grew on both of our faces. "Let's just show that jackass how much of an idiot he is."

His only response was a shallow laugh. Slowly, I rose to my tired feet, stretching out the kinks in my bones. Immediately, I was bombarded with the view to the dark outside. To me, its milieu seemed like a Disney movie set. The full moon, strictly kept landscape, lit up clock tower . . .

"Hold on." Two words stuck themselves into my head. "Idiot. . . clock tower . . . why is that important? Wasn't there- shit." I smacked my forehead, groaning.

"What's wrong?" Sadiq asked, frowning.

Like molasses in winter, I slowly ran my hand down the front of my face. "I told a depressed Italy to go jump off the clock tower." He looked at me, face palmed, and beckoned me to follow him.

Ten bush minutes later, we were coming upon the entrance of the tower. "Do you think he really did it?" I asked, trailing a step behind my mentor. For some reason, I didn't feel half as worried as I should have been. Maybe it was because I was so sleepy? Or because the Italian in question was just stupid?

Still, Sadiq shrugged. "I hope not. Finland would be rather upset."

I sighed. "Let me guess, another crack pairing?"

"It's not crack if they love each other," he huffed. "And besides, if Finland's upset then we get no Christmas presents."

With an eye roll, "And what? You wouldn't get any new Titanic merchandise?"

I winced when he smacked the back of my head. "I knew it was a bad idea to show you that movie," he grumbled, crossing his hands over his chest.

"And yet, you still did." He glared at my smug visage.

He started muttering about how much he hated me when his handsome face made sharp contact with the floor. I couldn't help myself; I broke into a fit of laughter. Lifting half of himself up, his eyes spoke of terrible crimes. "Stop laughing," he snapped.

I clutched my side. "Why?" I demanded, still laughing my ass off. "That was hilarious!"

"More than you fainting after being kissed?"

My voice instantly fell dead. He just had to go there, didn't he? I scowled at him, admitting defeat to his triumphant smirk. "Bastard," I muttered, dropping the subject. My mind struggled for something besides his gloating face to occupy itself with.

"What did you trip over anyways?" I asked, noticing for the first time that there was something at our feet. I bent and pushed his legs off of it. My hand wanted to make contact with my face. Again. "Turkey, I found Italy."

Sadiq flipped onto his butt and moved to get a better look. In the pallid moonlight, we could make out the Italian's auburn hair and single curl. He was curled up in a ball, snoring light 'vee's. The Turk rubbed his temple, fighting a headache, before nudging at the man. "Wake-up," he ordered, shaking his arm. The siesta continued.

It was one of those moments where my knowledge of the Hetalia universe actually came in handy. I leaned into his face and said, "Italy, wake-up before Germany makes you run laps."

"Not that!" The Italian jumped to life, shooting up faster than a mentos in a bottle of coke. His skull made hard contact with mine. Yelping, I fell back, holding the hurt area and moaning in pain. Italy dittoed.

Sadiq pointed at me and laughed.

I snapped for him to shut-up.

"Ow, that hurt!" Italy mewled, crying freely. He looked at us with teary eyes and started wailing. "I promise not to slack off again!" He cried, waving his hands this way and that. "I promise to do all the chores that I'm supposed to, just please don't tell Germany! He'll be mad!"

Sadiq and I exchanged unbelieving looks. His headache grew stronger whereas one of my own started. Taking a deep breath, the Turk grimaced. "We're not going to tell Ger-"

The brunette jumped over to me. "Seychelles, I tried to jump off the clock tower like you said," he chirped quickly, not even stopping to breathe. "But the door was locked so I just started walking and I guessed that I fell asleep while doing it. What time is it?" The oblivious look on his cute face told me that he had no idea that it was suicide.

I gave him a disturbed look. I had barely processed half the things he said. And by the confused look on Sadiq's, I'll say neither did he. Doing my best to hold my patience, I placed a heavy hand on his shoulder. "Just past midnight. Can you do me a favor and forget about the clock tower?" I asked. "For like, ever?"

Italy smiled. "Okey-Dokey!"

The Turk eased himself, sighing contently. He rose and made to walk away. I was about to follow him, but . . . "Italy, why were you so sad earlier?" I asked.

The garrulous one frowned and grew teary eyed. "My boyfriend left me for Greece!' He started wailing, crying a thick waterfall of tears. My mentor and I exchanged a look. He was telling me not to get involved, but I was telling him that I wanted to. But the Italian wasn't quite done yet. "What's worse, I really like someone else!"

I forced a smile. "How is that I bad thing?" I asked. "If you like someone else, then it would just be easier for you to move on."

Italy fiercely shook his head. You know, it feels weird using that adverb with him. There was nothing very fierce about him. Even when he was mad, he was as cheerful as a bubble. Heck, his 2P version was a sadistic, smiling, creep. "But he's a straightie!" He bawled, hugging his knees.

A false hope planted itself in my heart. "Is it Germany?" I asked eagerly, looking down at him with anticipation.

He shook his head. "No. Prussia."

I sighed. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Sadiq motioning for me to get my butt moving. But I couldn't. Not now. I was strangely intrigued by the great fan fiction plot before me. Seriously, this felt like Larry and Jerry's problem, except without the incest and what not.

And hey, it was 'PruIta'. That was an uncommon pairing, but it wasn't crack!

Smiling, I extended a hand out to him. "How about Sadiq and I help you," I said happily.

Not a second later, my partner in crime was pulling me aside, looking pissed as shit. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded, knitting his brows in frustration.

I shrugged. "Helping a poor soul."

"We have better thing to be concentrating on." he hissed. "Have you already forgotten that we are on a tight schedule here?" Actually I had. But I was not going to let him have the satisfaction of being right.

Like the perfect person I wished I was, I had a retort on hand. "Think of this as a hook-up strategy. As we fix Italy's love life, France and England would notice how much time I'm spending with him, get the wrong idea, and become jealous. Thus- if they want to keep me -they'll be forced to confess their love by the end of the prom."

Sadiq buried his face in his hands. "That's crazy," he muttered. "In what universe would that actually work?"

"The same one that has human personifications of countries," I smoothly responded. He still didn't look convinced. "Look, the very least, it'll trip the jackass up. He'll think that we'll be concentrating on the mission instead of doing something like this." At the mention of the enemy, Sadiq tensed significantly. Pointing the tips of my mouth into a smile, I pressed my hands together in prayer. "Please?

At last, he sighed. "Just get that damn kiss."

Grinning, I squealed and clasped both of his shoulders. I leaned in and . . . I quickly stopped myself. His displeased self didn't seem to notice what I just did; he was only giving me the stinkeye. Luckily, the dark lighting made it impossible to see the blush on my cheeks. "Sherry, what the hell were you thinking?" I mentally kicked myself. "You nearly just kissed him!"

Before things grew too awkward, I gave him a quick hug, said a fast 'thank you', and marched over to Italy. As I proudly announced our new involvement, a new bug was biting my mind.

On one hand, I was a slut with Ari.

On the other, I nearly just kissed a gay man.

"What the hell is wrong with me?"

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Next Chapter: Sherry plays match maker as she tried to restore the title character's love life.