Chain Reaction 3.13: Work of Art

Charlotte

      It's not fair! I just want friends. Then, Tommy and Jarvis take their turns turning on me. They both hurt me, knowing I hurt them.

      Tommy has only recently started acknowledging me in school again. I guess that's a step above pretending I don't exist. I should've suspected he'd do that, kiss me and all, but I just didn't want to consider it.

      But now Jarvis too?! I thought I could count on him. Guess not. And the way he has severed everything off from me hurts like... well, hurts like plum.

      I stay in bed all weekend. Sunday night, Dad walks in and sits on my bed. My voice croaks when I tell him to go away. Dumb Dad. It doesn't work, and he sits there anyway forcing me to talk. FINE. He gets an earful about me and boys whether he wants it or not. When I tell him that I don't know what to do with myself when before I'd either hang with Tommy or hunt for things with Jarvis, he tells me I just need a new hobby. We discuss music. No. Art? No. Sports? Ha! No. And I'm not interested in becoming an exercise nut.

      Then he mentions woodworking. I stop and actually consider it. I mean...I'd be making the collectibles. Not that I need collectibles. But I think it would be cool to also someday possibly make furniture too. Feeling pleased with himself, Dad says he'll buy me a woodworking table.

     This is good. I need a distraction from being mad at those boys. What do they know? I'm a good friend. Why did they have to want more?

      Yes, this is definitely a good thing to pick up a new hobby. I'm going to be good at this. I'm determined. I have time to get good at this. It's not like I'm out looking for collectibles.

     I hack away at the wood.

     Who needs Jarvis? He always acts like he's better than everyone else. He even complained about the way I dressed. It's none of his business whether or not I wear a bra anyway. (I have started wearing one, though.)

     I think I like woodworking. It gives me a physical outlet for my anger. I have no idea what this thing is going to turn into, but I feel a bit better.

     If only this emptiness would go away.

     I make a knife rack. Figures.

     Dad's PI business suddenly skyrockets once he finally gets Malcolm Landgraab put away. When that day happened, he didn't stop smiling for an entire day; I know his cheeks had to have been sore. But I get it. Landgraab killed Mommy. I'm glad, especially for Dad, that the jerkwad is behind bars, even if it's not for murder. Nope. They're actually charging him with espionage of all things! He'll rot in there.

     Anyway, money's coming in much better lately since more people hire Dad, so we finally get a real kitchen and dining room, even if it's technically all one room since it's not separated by walls. Well, a half-wall between the living room and dining room.

     Chloe drops a bomb at breakfast. "So, uh, Tommy is working with me on some crazy literature project."

     "What? Oh." I shrug. "So?" I look at the floor.

     "So, he's coming over after school today." She watches me. "I just thought I'd warn you."

     I swallow hard. "Okay. Big deal." It is a big deal! I miss Tommy! He's talking to me again, but it's nothing like it was before. Things are really awkward. I can't help it if I can't trust him. "What's the project?"

     She smirks. "Our class is doing a pathetic version of Julius Caesar. He's Caesar."

     "Oh. And you play his wife?"

     "No, I'm..." She laughs. "Brutus."

     "For real?" My mouth drops open.

     She shrugs. "Well, you know. No discrimination just because I'm a girl. If a man can play a female role in Shakespeare's time, why can't a woman play a man's role now?"
     She makes a good point.

     So Tommy rides home on the bus with us. He sits with Michael, and Chloe sits with me, bouncing along and talking like she's really happy. I'm distracted. Has Tommy always had nice hair?

     When we get home, I'm booted out of my own room so Chloe and Tommy can practice her stabbing him in the back. I never knew Chloe could giggle that much. And he sounds like he's having a good time, too.

     I go outside and start hacking away at the block of wood on the workbench, making me sweaty. I need a shower. Not wanting to be near the giggling, I use Dad's bathroom.

     The water suddenly gets cold, and I make an aggravated noise. Then, I get a bigger shock.

     "Oh, plum!" It's Tommy. He's in here! How could he not hear me taking a shower?! "Crap, Charlotte. I'm sorry!" Then, he looks before hiding his eyes and briskly walking out.

     What do I do? I want to go and strangle him. But I honestly got the feeling that he really was surprised that I was in the shower. If I didn't have this sixth sense, I never would've believed he wandered in accidentally and used the sink before realizing I was in the shower. Do I confront him? Do I try to pretend like it didn't happen? He did say he was sorry, and he meant it. But he still LOOKED. 

      I don't know what to do, and I can't find him when I exit the shower. So, I decide to sit and mindlessly stare at the television.

      He comes in from outside and sits down next to me. I don't take my eyes off the television, but I have definitely stopped watching it. I can't look at him. He's not only kissed me but has seen me naked. I can't believe it, but I'm more nervous than angry. Don't get me wrong, I'm angry, but there's something else. Flattered? No. That can't be it.

     His palms rub up and down on his jeans in a nervous manner. I'm so full of my own thoughts and emotions that I can't even begin to try and figure him out.

     He still hasn't said anything! He's just sitting there! Is he waiting for me to say something? Well, I'm not going to.

      To prove even more that I'm not going to say anything, I start messing with my phone. Someone posted a boomerang of a guy's head hitting his computer keyboard like he's pretending to have died in a melodramatic way. Normally, it'd be funny, but I'm not laughing. Tommy is looking at me. Why is he looking at me and not saying anything? Are we really going to sit here and not say anything after what just happened? It's getting weirder by the second the longer we sit here and not say anything. Why isn't he in my room making Chloe giggle? Does Chloe like Tommy like like him like him? Why am I even worried about that?

      "I didn't know you liked cop shows," he says. There's something about his voice like he's almost laughing at me. What's that about?

      "Huh?" I look up. "Oh. No. It doesn't really matter, actually. I wasn't really watching it." Doh!

      He lightly laughs.

      "I don't see what's funny."

      "It, uh, okay, I guess it was nervous laughter."

      "I'm sorry, Charlotte. I had a lot going on in my head. I didn't mean to walk in on you. I don't know why I didn't notice the shower going." He pauses. "You know, you could've locked the door."

      "I didn't have to. Why should I?"

      "Uh, because you knew I was here?"

      That makes me mad. "Oh, so you think me not locking the door was an invitation for you to come and peep at me?!"

      He lets out a big exhale. "Okay. I admit it did just sound like that, but that's not what I meant. I just mean like... I don't know what I mean anymore." He puts both hands over his face and leans back.

     I think he means that I should take into consideration who's at my house before I go and get naked in the shower so that I'll not have someone accidentally wander in. I think so anyway. Especially if that someone likes me. Or, well, at least used to.

     I say, "It would be a lot easier to accept this sort of apology if you hadn't have stood there and looked at me for a few seconds." I look over at him, but then he moves his hands away and suddenly looks a little too confident. I pretend to watch TV again.

      The next thing he says will probably be something I remember my whole life. "I couldn't help it. Works of art are meant to be admired."

      I can't breathe! "Tommy..." I warn.

      "Just saying."

      I still can't breathe. Why is he doing this to me? Why am I reacting like this?! Is he doing this on purpose? We'll never get to just being friends again if he keeps this up. I have to fix this. "Well, you should've been more careful, and I think you should apologize for staring."

      "No. I'm not going to."

      Arg! I'm going to punch him! He's acting so cocky. "Yet you apologized for walking in."

      "Yeah."

      I snap my head around, but my anger gets immediately distracted. Why does it feel like he's more mature than I am? That doesn't make any sense. There's just something about him that screams... um, I don't know.

      Seeing that I haven't said anything, he continues, "Yeah, I apologize for the initial walking in on you, but I refuse to apologize for admiring you for a second or two. Make no mistake, Charlotte, I think you're gorgeous. And... I'm waiting."

      "What do you mean?"

      "Well, at first, I was mad, you see. I was so mad that you didn't understand what happened, that you got scared that you kissed me back." He sees my 'oh no don't bring that up' expression and says, "Just hear me out, okay? But I decided that was really stupid of me, to be mad that is. I intend to wait for you to realize why it is that you kissed me back."

      Curious, I ask, "And what do you think that is?"

      He sighs, a little aggravated, but just a little. "Do you really want me to tell you?"

      "Just because you tell me doesn't make it true."

      "You like me. I can't wait, even if I will, for you to figure that out on your own."

      "What about Chloe?" No idea what made me ask that.

      "What about her?" he asks back, confused.

      "Nothing. I don't know. I'm going to go build something." I stand up and escape to the back door.

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A/N: This was going to be a separate chapter, but I'd inserted a chapter before it after writing everything, and I want to keep the chapter titled "Slice of Pi" as chapter 3.14. So, here ya go.

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Emily

     Time goes by so quickly lately. It seems like yesterday that Alaric was just a tiny baby in my arms.

      It's very likely he'll be my only baby. The doctors said that the pregnancy took its toll on my insides and that trying that again could be dangerous. That's all it took for Alex to go and make a doctor's appointment of his own. It broke my heart to do so, but Alex insisted that it's not worth the risk. We have Alaric. To be honest, I'm glad that if I'm only going to have one that it's a boy.

     He was the sweetest baby. Sometimes, I almost laughed that it seemed like he was apologetic that he had to cry.

     My mind jumps to Valentino, Drake's son. Drake was wanted for murder. He left Valentino with Laura, saying he'd come back for him when his name was cleared. I actually felt sorry for Laura. She got to have her grandson with her long enough to get accustomed to having him before he got snatched away when Drake got himself out of that mess. He killed Violet. I hate to say it, but I'm glad. His lawyers proved self defense and stopped the manhunt.
     Strange, but Mr. Franco died the same night. They can't prove Drake is responsible.

      While Valentino was still with Laura, Alex decided to visit his grandson. I went too. I hated the hatred aimed at me from Laura. It's sad, but she has plenty of reasons to hate me now.

     "Not you, Emily," she snapped, pointing her finger rudely at me. "You're lucky I even let you into my house."
     Alex stopped halfway into reaching into the cradle. "Just what exactly do you mean by that?"
     "After everything she did to our son, you expect me to let her hold his child?" Her Drake-gray eyes wildly regarded her ex-husband.
    "Yes! Valentino is also my grandson, and Emily is my wife. And for that matter, you weren't there to witness all the emotional damage he covertly did to her!"
     She glared at him. "The only reason I'm letting you in here is that Valentino is also your grandson, but Emily has no right."
     "I never did anything to Drake," I snapped at her.
     "You married his father."
     Alex stepped in. "Laura, our son is a manipulative, egocentric, conniving--"
     "To you he was--but never to me."
     "Maybe because he knew he could manipulate you. He could prey upon your insecurities." Alex kept going, and I started to become more and more shocked at the thinly-veiled insults he threw her way. I didn't like seeing this side of him. I knew Laura had once hurt him deeply and that's where all the nastiness came from, but I hated hearing it. I escaped to the backyard.
     But I wasn't out there a minute before Alex came storming over to me, holding his grandson for the first time, and he pushed the infant into my arms. Laura was right on his heels.

     Kenneth had to hold Laura back from clawing at Alex's face. The two of them kept arguing while I looked at Drake's son. He was going to have his eyes. Hoping to escape the negativity, I took a small walk into the yard before returning to Alex. Valentino was a pretty baby.
     I handed the child back to Alex. Honestly, I didn't want to hold Drake's son that badly. I just like babies.

     My own Alaric's infancy was so short. Before I knew it, he was aging up.

      Becoming a toddler didn't cause him to lose his sweet little baby charm. He remained my darling little boy. He was such a charmer that he completely won over his grandfather's heart. Alex used to joke that we'd never get rid of Dad with the way he would frequently just show up. I'm so proud of Dad not letting his dislike of Alex affect his love for his grandson.

     Alaric is brilliant. He was already reading at age three. It's not like we pushed him; he just really wanted to know and picked it up like a sponge. His favorite time, I think, was story time before going to sleep. He fought sleep so much, wanting to know more before he finally passed out, exhausted.

     I loved watching Alex with our son. I felt bad for thinking it, but I much preferred Alex and Alaric being together than those times when Diamond was also here. That little girl was becoming as selfish and self-centered as her mother. Spoiled. But to tell the truth, I couldn't tell you why Alaric wasn't spoiled. Perhaps it was his sweet nature. Perhaps I was just blind to it if he is, but everyone who met him loves him.

     She enjoyed teasing him. It would make me so mad that I'd just want to go up to her and slap her, but that would incur Selena's wrath and probably create a legal nightmare for Alex. I think if Diamond just had a little discipline, even if it's just being grounded, she'd be better. But Alex and Selena are in a silent battle over who can be the best 'good' parent. It breaks my heart to think about how much of a sweet baby and toddler she was.

      I couldn't believe it, but one day, I decided to broach the subject of Diamond's behavior when Selena came to pick her up. Selena actually had the gall to say it was due to her Goth blood. That was a sure reminder as to why I try not to speak to her. If anything, Diamond gets her spoiled ways from Selena's side of the family.

      Not all Goths are evil like Drake and Alex's father. My darling husband is proof of that.

     Tomorrow is Alaric's birthday party. I can't believe it's already time for him to be a child, but in truth, he's not much younger than Diamond.
     I look at my husband. He's getting grayer. I tell him he could dye it, and he laughs. He thinks the grays make him look more distinguished. I keep quiet about it, but to me, it's a scary reminder of how old he is.

      Seeing my mom again reminds me that she too is also graying. When I talk to her about dying her hair, she says she doesn't want to look too young for her husband. Then, she belatedly covers her mouth with an apologetic look to her face. Thanks, Mom.

     There are pics of Alaric blowing out his candles, but they're awful.

      My darling little boy. No big surprise, he gains the genius trait.

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Sorry for the chapter-long info dump. This was literally (pun intended) to fill in the blanks so that when I get to more of the Alex/Emily/everyone else drama that the background information will be there. 

Chain Reaction 3.12: Crazy About You

Jarvis

     Lottie is coming over again today. I should've stopped that ages ago, but the little shrimp is persistent. It's just...the older I get, the more I realize that a little girl visiting a teenage boy out in the woods is a bad idea. It just looks wrong. Of course, I'd never even dream of doing anything. Ever. The very idea makes me furious. But the fact remains that this situation could cause trouble if the right nosy person gets involved.

     I light a fire and sigh, wondering how I'm going to tell her to get lost. It's the same thing every time. It's just...well, it's also really nice to talk to her. She has a bubbly attitude that is somehow not annoying. I know if I told her to get lost that I'd miss her so much that I would get too depressed to even get up in the morning. She's just a kid. Just a smart, bright, sweet, sassy kid who acts like she's much older. But she's not much older. She's just a kid.

     "Hey, booger-brain!" I hear her.

     I take a deep breath. Here we go again. Then, I turn my head and see her. At least...I think it's her.

     I manage to make my mouth and voice work at the same time. "No. Way." Meanwhile, the me inside my head has started going gagablagooogoohmplfandelblesh. I shake my head and hit my forehead with the heel of my hand. "You can't be little Lottie."

     She cocks one curvy hip to the side. "I don't know. Did you shrink?"

     No shrinkage here. "Nope. You see, it's all a matter of perception. I only look shorter to you because you got taller." I smirk. I was just messing with her, knowing she knew that already.

     "I know that, bird brain. I was kidding."

     "I know you were. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to play along with it. Can't you take what you dish out, little Lottie?"

     "Hey! You can't call me that anymore!"

     "Watch me. Besides, I'll bet I could still carry you under my arm." My only hope to keep from looking ridiculous is to keep up the pretend fight we're having.

     "Nuh uh." She folds her arms.

     I pretend like I'm sizing her up. My eyes start at her feet to run up her legs to the curve of her hips moving into her exposed, narrower waist and then up to... Plum.
     I clear my throat. "Hm. You might be right. Your legs are too long. I guess I'll have to improvise and carry you over my shoulder instead." Can she see me breathing faster?

     She pretends to glare. "Do it and you'll probably not like where I kick you."

     "Ouch. Touché. I'll have to keep that in mind." Yeah. Keep your head on straight, Jarvis. What's happening?

     "So where are we going hunting today?"

     She has no idea. She really has no idea how plumbing hot she's just become. Well, my stomach has, apparently, because it's clenched up in a knot.

     "Well, uh," I scratch the back of my head, trying to stay cool, "I need to eat breakfast first." Aw, great. You're such a genius, Jarvis. Now you have to eat with your stomach forming itself into a pretzel.

     "Oh!" She looks excited. "I brought stuff! I'm so glad you said something. I can make bacon and eggs. Let me show you!" Please don't jump up and down like that.

      "Oh-kay," I hear myself slowly saying. Charlotte is going to cook for me, I think in a dreamy way.

      Whoa, Jarvis! Snap out of it! I take a step back. Aw, plum. Now I have to eat. My stomach complains audibly, and she hears it.

      Giggling, she says, "Hold on a sec. It takes a minute for them to cook."

      "Uh. Yeah. Sure." I pause. This is bad. This is really bad. Lottie? "Hey, uh, Lottie? I'm going to go take a short walk to keep from thinking about, um, food."

      "Okay," she replies happily, setting up the cookstove like she's seen me do it a hundred times.

      During my walk, I finally clear my head and tell myself that it was just the shock that she'd grown up. She's still Lottie, after all. It's really no big deal. In fact, it's good because we're in the same age group again. Yeah. This'll be better. She's not some kid hanging out in the woods with a teenager. She's...a teenager hanging out in the woods with a teenager. That's better, right? I decide it is.

      By the time I return to my campsite, I have completely convinced myself that I was crazy to start thinking Lottie is hot. She's just Lottie. We're friends.

      Then, she leans over to put my plate down, and her shirt slips before she can correct it. I have to take several deep breaths before I walk out of the trees where she can see me.

      I don't care if I have to run off and throw everything back up; I am going to eat every bite. I just hope I don't actually throw up, and if I do, let it be somewhere where she can't see.

     After forcing down what is probably a delicious breakfast, I have to talk about stuff to distract my crazy thoughts. "Uh, so... Chloe's a teenager too then."

     She misunderstands. Giggling, she says, "Yeah. You want me to set you up with her?"

     I grit my teeth for a second. "No. I was just talking." Doh! That sounded stupid. 

     She looks serious. "Can I ask you something?"

     As long as it doesn't have to do with setting me up with someone, yeah. "Sure."

     "Is it normal for best friends to date each other?"

     OMG. 

      I can't look at her. I've noticed she's too good at reading me. "Uh, it happens. Yeah."

      "Oh no."

      Huh? My head snaps up to her. "What do you mean?" She looks like she's about to cry. She was giggling a second ago! Talk about mood swings. "Lottie, what is it? Talk to me about it, whatever it is. You never know. You could be surprised by what I have to say."

      "Tommy kissed me."

     "What?" My mood swings now. I've never liked that little snot-rag, and I'll never forget that time I saw him kiss Lottie while we were all still kids. I'd carefully questioned her about it later, just to be sure she was okay, and she told me he didn't mean anything by it. I'd let it go because I'd become a teen by then. But now, we're all teens and he kissed her again.

     "Oh, don't worry. I got onto him about it." She misunderstands my look. "He started spouting how he..." She blushes and closes her eyes like she's embarrassed. "He said he was in love with me and that me thinking best friends dating is weird is wrong, that it happens all the time."

     "He's your best friend?" I ask before I can stop myself.

     Her eyes open. "Oh. Well, yeah. I mean, you are too, but I see him at school all the time and stuff."

     Yeah. Because you're the same age. Honestly, I'm jealous but I'd never admit it.

     "So it's not weird then?" she asks, reminding me of what she was asking earlier.

     I speak without really thinking. I just want to do anything to keep her from dating that little pipsqueak. "If you think it is, it is. Okay? If you feel weird about it, then..." I realize what I'm saying and how it might come back to bite me later. Well, we aren't weird. It's just all this stuff this afternoon is weird. Which means things are weird. Plum.

     "Then?" she prompts.

     "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do." There. "Let's go searching for junk."

     "Okay." She pauses. "Hey, Jarvis?"

     "Yeah?"

     "Thanks."

     "Don't mention it." This is crazy. So what if Tommy is in love with little Lottie. That shouldn't matter to me. I mean, I can't blame him. She's wonderful, and now, she's hot to boot.

      Plum.

     Today's session of hunting for discarded junk is labeled 'hey, Jarvis, wait up.' Does she have to wear that type of shirt? Does she have to have those hips? Must she have an amazing rack? And that's to say nothing of those eyes. I'd sell everything I own and go completely broke again for those eyes.

     She's just Lottie! Damn it, Jarvis! Get that through your head!

     "I'll go fish up some dinner, okay?" she asks me in her chipper, perky voice.

     "Good idea." I try to sound happy, but I don't know how well it works.

     Not to mention she has a great ass.

     This is insane! It's just physical. Yeah. That's all. It's not like I'm crazy about her. I'm just a dude acknowledging that she's hot. I'm a guy, right?

     She turns around and sees me staring at her butt. Wait, no. She couldn't tell. She waves happily. "Find anything?" she calls up to me.

     I hold up my hand in a kind of wave, make some kind of strange speaking-type-but-not-really noise, and turn around to go find some rocks.

     Flea market day arrives again, and this time Charlotte is going to help out.

     I make several hundred simoleans. Lottie is amazing. Maybe when I open a store she can work there with me too. Then I could see her every day. That would be wonderful. Because we're friends.

     Later, she talks about wanting to get something from the food stands.

     "You know," I tell her in response, "today was a really great day, thanks in part to you. Let's go out and celebrate." I'm not asking her out.

     "You mean like a restaurant? Are you sure? They're kind of expensive, aren't they?"

     She knows me so well. "Oh, yeah. Nothing like a fancy place." Because that would seem too much like a date. "We could go to this diner I know of. Its prices are okay."

     "Okay." She smiles. Yes! But it's not a date.

      This is great. I'm eating at a diner with Lottie. I haven't eaten in a restaurant in years due to the expense, but today, I don't care. It's worth it.

     She's talking about something. I've lost track of what it is, but that's okay. As long as I look like I'm paying attention, she's happy. I'm paying attention. I'm studying her face.

      "...piano lessons, and we don't even own a piano!"

      "Crazy," I comment.

      She smiles at me. "I know, right?"

      Her features are so perfect. It's like an artist chiseled her from marble, smoothing out her cheek, creating the perfect nose, remaining generous with her lips. Her ears are perfect. I wonder what it would be like to brush her hair aside so I could see them better. Oh, but then, her hair...I'm so glad she didn't cut it. But even if it were cut, it would just highlight her face more. It's a win-win.

     "...and I almost died in shock when he started talking to me again."

     "Huh?" Our food arrives.

     "So where was I?"

     "Uh..." Oops.

     "Oh yeah. Tommy. He still thinks we should date." She pouts.

     "Poor guy," I hear myself saying.

     "What? Why would you say that?"

     Oh, plum. "I mean, well, he's crazy about you, right?"

     "But I don't get it! Why?"

     I take another bite of my burger and drink some water, not answering.

     "Jarvis? Maybe you can help me understand. You're a guy." She pouts. "I need your help."

     I still have some food in my mouth. "Because you...are wonderful. I mean," I swallow, "a better question would be why wouldn't he? You're sweet. And funny. And smart. And sensitive. And I'm an idiot if I try to tell myself I'm not crazy about you."

     She doesn't say anything. She just starts looking worried.

     OH PLUM!

     "I mean, well, I'm just trying to put myself in his..." I stop when she starts shaking her head no. I've never been able to lie to her, and I won't start now. "Well, he..." Nope. "I..."

     Plum. Can I just disappear now? How could I have screwed up like that? I've been doing so well for weeks. Sure, I've thought about her every day. I've fantasized about her every night. If I'm lucky, we make out in my dreams. But she's not suspected. Or if she has, she's been able to pretend she hasn't. I've screwed it all up now, and it's doing nothing but get worse since I'm sitting here looking devastated.

    I may as well spill my guts. "Charlotte, honestly, I don't want you to start talking to him again because I don't want you to start possibly dating him because I'd rather... If you date anyone, I want it to be me."

     "I need to visit the restroom," she says quietly.

     "Okay." Don't mind me as I ruin everything. I'll just sit here as everything crumbles around me.

     She gets up, and I pay the bill. I have to get out of here.

     Some friend I am. I knew. I knew from everything she's told me about her troubles with Tommy that she doesn't want to date anyone. I'm guessing she's just not ready, and I'm okay with that. But then, she just had to ask. Sure. I could tell her all about why Tommy says he's in love with her. In that respect, we're kindred spirits.

      She texts me, asking me where I am. I tell her. I'm not far, just sitting on a bench in a little park alcove. She's coming over here, and I'm going to have to tell her how I feel. This isn't how I imagined it would be. I thought for sure that I'd have to wait a little while and then she might come to realize she has feelings for me. At least, that's what I hoped would happen. Maybe she'd be shy about it but I would definitely tell her it was all okay. It worked in my fantasies.

      Oh, plum. Here she comes. I can hear her. I can't look. I've been blissfully staring at her all evening, but I can't look at her now. I don't want to see her expression.

     "Did you mean it?" she asks, sounding sad.

     Don't look. "You know I did."

     "Why?"

     "Because..." My knee starts bouncing up and down. "Please don't make me have to say it again." I want to scream in frustration. How could I have screwed up so badly?

     "Say what again?"

     I huff. "You have no idea, do you? I didn't want anyone tagging along with me, yet there you come acting sweet and cute. Even as kids, I couldn't resist. Every time you'd come over, I'd tell myself, 'Today is the day I tell her to get lost.' But I couldn't do it. Seeing you again is my reason for getting up in the morning. Then, you aged up, and holy plum, Charlotte! It's a miracle I could talk. I probably looked like an idiot."

     "What do you mean 'holy plum'?"

     If I weren't so used to it by now, my jaw would drop. Fine. I'll tell her. "You're plumbing gorgeous, Charlotte!" I knew it. She's leaning back, teetering on overwhelmed. But she asked for it. "Where do I begin? First of all, your hips. Maker, I love to watch you walk. And I can't believe I'm saying this, but you should probably think about wearing a bra. Haven't you noticed me staring at you? I spent the last hour studying every aspect of your beautiful face." I reach my hand up, suddenly dying to touch her hair. "And your hair-"

     "Don't," she tells me quickly and scoots a tiny bit away, but it may as well be acres. My hand freezes in place before closing into a fist.

     "ARUGH! I'm ruining everything! I wasn't going to tell you all this stuff because I know from everything you've told me that you're not ready, but now I feel like if I don't, I'll explode. That's probably why it slipped out. I've been constantly trying to tell myself that we're just friends, but that slip earlier proved how that didn't work."

     "But... We are just friends. And you're right; I'm not ready. I can't promise I ever will be." She pauses. "I just don't understand the need to date when being friends is so great. I guess there's something wrong with me if you're the second guy to-"

     "There's nothing wrong with you," I interrupt. "You have your own pace, and I knew that."

     "But then, what if, sometime in the future, I am ready to date but it's someone else. What if it's Tommy?"

     She just ripped open my heart with a dull pocket knife, having to drag it extra hard and not having the slice be a clean cut. In my mind, I see her with Tommy, and I want to throw up the burger I only half-finished. I couldn't live through that. So what do I do?

     "I can't do this anymore, Charlotte. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry I can't just be your friend anymore. I'd rather stop it now so that I'm not utterly crushed when I see you with someone else."

     She starts crying, and it kills me inside. "Jarvis, sit down. Please. We can talk this out, find a compromise."

     I almost laugh ironically, but I keep myself in check. "No. I can't take back what I said. I love you, Lottie, but I won't stand around waiting for my heart to be completely broken."

     The floodgate of her tears breaks, and I shake as I hold back the urge to sit down and hold her while she cries. I know if I do that I might do something crazy like kiss her, being no better than Tommy.

     I have to go. I have to let her go or she will destroy me. I hate the thought of her hurting, but I know she'll be okay in time. I may never be, but I know that stopping this now will save me heartache in the end. Even when it came to just picking her best friend, I know she really only thought Tommy. Why would she choose me? I'm a nobody, a wannabe.

     I whisper, "Goodbye."

     I still hear her crying, and I know that will haunt me for years.

     Keep walking, Jarvis. It's better for you and her in the long run. You never really needed her from the start. This was a one-man show anyway, right? I have to be doing the right thing. I've been going insane trying to keep how I feel from her, and it turned out that didn't work. I can't keep pretending I only want to be her friend.

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The diner: