Confessions

by wENDELLs

It's Senior Year and the Homecoming Dance is just around the corner. Amy and Colin had broken up at the start of the term and after two years of waiting, this is Ephram's chance. Ephram/Amy, featuring... Wendell!

Confessions

(featuring lyrics from "I'd Rather Be In Love" by Michelle Branch)

Another day, another day. Back to school. Joy.

As I pulled on a fresh new shirt and stone-washed jeans, I hastily slipped on my Converse Chuck Taylors with five minutes to spare. Six-forty-five in the morning.

School is just too early. Why so early in the mornings? Why not at after dinner. . . or even at midnight? But I suppose being an insomniac wouldn't be part of the curriculum. Slinging my back pack over my shoulder, I rushed out the door and into the kitchen. The oh-too-familiar scent of burnt toast coated with too-little margarine filled the kitchen. Delia and Dad sat at the table, busying themselves with the 'gourmet' cuisine and flipping through a book about Lassie and skimming through the newspaper. I'll leave it up to you to decide who was reading what.

Two minutes and I should be out the door. With a hurried goodbye and a stuffing of lunch money into my pockets, I was on the porch steps--and right on time. Hopping on my bike, I headed down the driveway and onto the street, pedaling my way towards prison. Well, not really prison per say. . . just something like it.

'I cannot help it, I couldn't stop it if I tried,'

Fast-forward to me pulling up into one of the bike racks and hopping off. I wore no helmet. Heck, I never even bothered to in the first place. And besides, I ran on a tight schedule in the mornings, and I wasn't about to waste some precious time unstrapping my helmet and rebuckling it around one of the bike handles.

Taking a deep breath, I looked up at the school building and proceeding to enter through the double doors.

"Ephram! Hey Ephram!"

Already I was greeted by someone too cheery. Too familiar.

It was Wendell.

It amazes me how someone can just be so perky at seven-fifteen in the morning. But, it looked as if Wendell didn't really take much time to get ready in the mornings (which would give him a bit more time to sleep since he didn't have to worry about fixing his hair much). He always looked as if he'd just rolled out of bed. But, one had to admit, it suited him.

I turned around, my backpack slung across one shoulder. "Yeah?"

"Well? Thinking about asking Amy to Homecoming?" he pressed on, both of his eyebrows raised at me.

I shook my ahead and continued on my way towards my locker. Behind me, I could hear him still talking, following after me.

"Oh, come on, Ephram. I know that you know that you want to ask her."

"And be shot down for the third time," I said sarcastically, looking over my shoulder at him as I stuffed several books into my locker.

"You know what they say--third time's a charm! What've you got to lose? It's Senior Year, Amy and Colin broke less than a month after school started. . . Tell me, what've you got to lose?"

                "Yeah, well, I could lose just about every. . ." I trailed off, turning to look at him--only, he wasn't there. With a confused look, I shook my head and shut my locker with a slam.

                "Hi, Ephram!"

                Secretly, I rolled my eyes and spun around, "Look, Wendell, I'm not just gonna ask h. . . Amy! Hi!"

'The same old heartbeat fills the emptiness I have inside. . .'

                "What were you. . . ask what, Ephram?" she said slowly, shaking her head as if trying to get her thoughts straight.

                "It's--it's nothing really. So, what's up?" I replied, eager for a change of subject.

                She bit the bait.

                "Oh, not much. Excited about the Dance this weekend?"

                I tried my best not to stutter, but failed horribly. "I--I guess so. If you call terrified excited."

                Amy smiled. "Oh, there's nothing to be afraid of. Sure, it's our Senior Year and all, but aside from making this last Homecoming the best one yet, there's nothing remotely terrifying about it."

                I grinned at her, walking towards Literature class, a couple of books tucked under my arm. This was one of the three classes we had together, so she followed and walked beside me.

                "There's always the prospect of finally getting a date," I said, turning my head to look at her, then straight ahead as we progressed down the semi-crowded hallway.

                "Yes, but. . . dates are so overrated. While it's great to have someone to spend a night like Homecoming with, you can always have fun with your friends if you go stag. Don't worry about dates, the perfect one'll pop up when you least expect it. And when you realize it, you won't have any trouble asking them at all."

                Dang. She sounded like an expert at these things. Love and relationships. It sort of made me wonder why she and Wendell hadn't teamed up to form a match-making duo. But then I remembered that Wendell tended to run on the loony side and I wondered no more.

                But she was right. . . the perfect person would come along eventually. But how the heck was I going to 'pop the question' if she was here already?

                But further thoughts on that were erased when Mrs. Scofield announced a pop quiz at our arrival, causing the class to emit waves upon waves of groans. The old bag.

                Classes came and went--after Scofield's pop quiz (which I'm sure I bombed), I wasn't in the mood for much anything else, and as a result, my other classes passed by slowly. Well, with the exception of when my math teacher dropped what he was doing and bolted out of the classroom, clutching his stomach, mumbling something about medicated laxatives.

                Lunch. Ah. . . how I loved lunch. Not only could I chow down, but get a long, forty-five minute break from classes.

                But this time, I wasn't hungry.

                I did the stupidest thing I'd ever done.

                I asked Amy if I could 'have a talk' with her during lunch.

                Unable to eat, I just grabbed a Dr. Pepper from the vending machines (I had to pay twice because the machine ate my money) and seated myself at the usual table. Normally I would've let Wendell sit with me, but as this was a 'private' talk with Amy, he was forced to find somewhere else to sit.

                I took a sip from the can of soda and waited, pushing it around on the table, listening to the sound of aluminum against wood.

                "Well, here I am," a voice chirped.

                Not even glancing up, I saw a blue lunch tray hit the table and then a blur of color as someone took a seat.

                Amy.

'And I've heard that you can't fight love, so I won't complain. . .'

                "Hey," I said after swallowing and mustering up the courage to just look at her. I felt like such a wimp. If it was this hard just looking her in the eye, how hard was it going to be to ask her to go to Homecoming with me?

                There was a moment's silence, then--

                "Well. . . what did you want to talk to me about?"

                "Huh?" I had almost forgotten she was there as I wallowed around in self-pity for those few seconds. "Oh, um, say Amy. . . I was wondering. . . if you'd go to Homecoming with me?" There, I'd said it. It kind of felt good, getting the question out in the open. The thing was, I was so nervous, that I broke her off just when she was about to answer.

                "Wow, Ephram. . . I--"

                "Look, I know you broke up with Colin only months ago, but I've wanted to go with you for so long and. . . you said it yourself--that I'd find the perfect one to ask eventually. Only--the perfect one had been there all along. I just had to wait a while."

                She looked down at her tray, her eyes shut, and I braced myself for the worst. But it never came. Before I knew it, she was smiling back at me.

                "Yes, yes, Ephram. I'd love to go to Homecoming with you. You see. . . I thought that what I'd said earlier would have thrown you off and sent you searching for someone else to ask."

                I barely heard what more she had to say. My mind was reeling. The only thing my ears had picked up on was her agreement to attend Homecoming with me. She said it with such ease. . . so freely. . .

                "You sure you want to go with me?" I asked, a bit doubtful.

                "Can't think of anyone else I'd rather go with."

''Cause why would I stop the fire that keeps me going on?'

                I smiled, laughing with relief. "So it's a date, then?"

                Amy grinned at me. "In more ways then one. . . A date--literally. . . and a date as in a day of the week."

                "I knew what you meant," I retorted with a light smirk.

                She chucked a fry at me, but I merely picked it up and ate it. Now that she had said yes, the nervous feeling had left the pit of my stomach, a feeling of hunger replacing it.

''Cause when there's you, I feel whole… and there's no better feeling in the world.'

                She laughed, her tilted to the side as she watched me finish off the single fry.

                "Hungry are we?"

                I grinned sheepishly at her. "Well, now that the nervousness and anxiety is gone, I'm able to eat now."

                Amy chuckled lightly and pushed her tray closer to me, saying, "Help yourself. You can have half of the cheeseburger, but save me the pickles. Fries are unlimited, however."

                I cringed. "You can have the pickles. I don't really care for pickles."

                She shrugged. "Suit yourself."

                Still grinning like an idiot, I took a couple more fries, looking around the cafeteria as I ate them. My gaze fell upon Wendell, who was boredly staring out the window from an empty table, munching on a bag of Lays.

                With a sigh, I turned back to Amy. "Um, Amy, I think I'm going to go--" I jerked my head in Wendell's direction. "I think he could use some company now."

                She was more than understanding. "Oh, go ahead--I think my friends are waiting for me. I'll see you later, Ephram."

                And after exchanging smiles, we both got up and headed in separate directions.

                Wendell glanced at me, crunching on a mouthful of chips, then said rather casually, "So. . . how'd it go? Did you ask?"

                I tried my best to feign depression. "Yeah. . ."

                He stopped in mid-chew, looking at me in disbelief. "She didn't say. . ."

                "No. . . she said yes! Wendell, she said yes!!" I said, laughing.

                He beamed at me. "Like I said, third time's a charm. . . So, how does it feel?"

                "I. . . I can't explain it. . . it's just. . . awesome!"

                He grinned and popped another chip in his mouth.

'But without you, I'm alone. And I'd rather be in love with you.'

                Faster than I had expected, the night of the Homecoming dance arrived and I was to pick up Amy. Dressed in my new tuxedo (Dad had taken me out to get fitted for a new one since I actually had a date for this one) and hopped into the BMW--something Dad also let me use for this 'special occasion'.

                I smirked, running my hands up and down on the leather-covered steering wheel and even chuckling to myself as I revved the engine. Getting over the feeling of actually driving this excellent machine, I hit the gas and drove to Amy's.

                I was there in no time.

                Anxiously, I stepped out of the car, slamming the door shut, and walked to her front door, self-consciously running a hand through my hair before I rang the doorbell.

                The door opened and for a moment I was literally blinded--she looked so. . . stunningly beautiful. She smiled somewhat shyly at me, wearing a one-shouldered white dress that shimmered gold.

                "Bonsoir, Mademoiselle," I said, mock-bowing to her.

                She laughed softly and stepped out onto the porch, curtsying. "Bonsoir, monsieur."

                Taking her hand, I led her out to the car. "Ohh. . . the BMW, I see. Snazzy."

                She grinned and I nodded in response, opening the door for her before walking around to the driver's side.

                We sat in comfortable silence, a bit of oldies playing softly in the background. Normally, I hated that crap, but tonight it actually suited the mood.               

                As I pulled into a convenient parking spot, we got out of the car and walked to the gym, my arm linked around hers.

                We smiled politely at Colin and his own date before stepping in. He didn't return the favor. Can't say I'm surprised. . .  Sucker. . .

The gym's lighting was dim with a couple of spotlights.

'Turn out the lights now--to see is to believe.'

                We talked to a couple of Amy's friends before I spotted Wendell serving himself some punch at the refreshment table.

                Amy and I approached him from behind, and I tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around, surprised, and said, "Oh, heeey! Well, if it isn't the star couple of tonight?"

                Amy laughed and said, "Were you able to get a date for tonight?"

                He shook his head, though didn't seemed fazed at all. "Nah. . . but. . . I think tonight may be the night I dance with her." He pointed with his chin across the room at the girl he had been eyeing since the time I met him. The girl smiled at him shyly and Wendell winked.

                "Well, good luck, then," I said, clapping him on the shoulder as a slow song came.

                "C'mon, Ephram. I wanna dance!" Amy said, pulling on my arm, dragging me onto the dance floor. Wendell waved a farewell to me before taking a sip from his cup.

'I just want you near me; I just want you here with me. . .'

                As I rested my hands on Amy's waist, she draped her arms on my shoulders, around my neck. It just felt so right--her finally being in my arms. . . without a Colin. . . without a doubt. . . she was mine. And I was hers for the taking.

                "So strange. . . this is our last year here in high school. It's a bit scary."

                I shook my head, looking into her eyes. "It's not scary. . . You know, a wise person once told me, 'You've got nothing to worry about. Just make this year the best one yet. . . And you'll find out that there's nothing to be afraid of at all.'" I paused then added, "Well, she didn't say that exactly, but that's pretty much the gist of it."

                Amy nodded, a look of mild interest on her features. "Really? Tell me about this person. . ."

                Fishing for compliments, was she?

                I smiled and said, still dancing with her, "Well, she's really pretty. . . with a beautiful smile and indescribable eyes. But she's more than just a pretty face. Her name's Amy and she's. . . she's just a wonderful person, inside and out. And I. . ."

               

'And I'd give up everything only for you.'

                "You. . . " she said slowly, urging me to say more, holding back a smile. "Go on."

                I looked off at the other couples dancing around us and answered at last, "And I've just wanted her for so long, and to finally have her. . . It just blows my mind. She blows my mind. And I think. . . I think I'm in love. . . with her. . . Amy Abbott."

                By now, Amy's cheeks had become rosy in color and she smiled up at me. "And I. . . I love you, Ephram Brown."

'It's the least that I could do. . .'

                She loves me.

                And I love her.

                Need I say more?

'Why are we afraid to be in love?'

                But to my surprise, her bright smile faded slowly and she looked away from me.

                "Something the matter?" I asked, trying to get her to look at me again.

                "I'm just. . .  I'm sorry about the past two years. I wasn't at all that nice to you when I was with Colin and… I'm just so sorry. I led you on for a while, when really, all I wanted was you."

                I turned her chin to face me and said, "No. . . don't apologize. You don't need to."

                "Really?" she said, flicking her eyes back to mine.

'To be loved. . . I can't explain it.'

                I leaned my forehead against hers and whispered softly, "Really."

                I closed my eyes and could almost sense her smile before she got up on tiptoe slightly, her lips meeting mine. This kiss was unlike any other. It was like the music had stopped playing, the world had stopped spinning, and that time was standing still, prolonging our kiss further.

                It was utter bliss, and I couldn't help but smile slightly as she kissed me and I kissed her back.

'I know it's tough to be loved. . .'

                Eventually, the kiss broke off and I brushed a lock of her hair away from her cheek, placing it behind her ears. Looking around, we realized that the song was just coming to an end and we stepped off the dance floor, heading outside for a bit of privacy.

                We stood outside the gym doors in the dim lighting.

                "Having a good time?" I asked Amy with a grin.

                She nodded. "For the record--it's certainly better than any dance I've gone to with Colin."

                "That's good to know. . . good to know. . ." I opened my mouth to say more when a sudden crash caused both Amy and I to jump backwards.

A very busy couple came into view, the male putting up a hand against the wall as the two kissed very passionately.

                Stifling our laughter, Amy and I exchanged looks. It was then that I noticed the black leather bracelet with silver studs in it around the guy's wrist. I could recognize that bracelet anywhere.

"WENDELL?!" I called out in disbelief.

Indeed, it was. He stopped, turning his head to face me.

"Ephram! Amy! Getting along well, I see," he exclaimed rather awkwardly, before the girl he had been crushing on, Ashlee, pulled him in for another kiss. She seemed to be keeping him busy, so Amy and I paid no further attention to them.

'And when there's you, I feel whole. . .  And there's no better feeling in the world.'

                "Imagine that," I said, turning my head to face Amy.

                "All's well that ends well," she replied with a smile before wrapping her arms around my neck.

                "Cheers to that," I replied, kissing her again shortly afterwards.

'But without you, I'm alone. And I'd rather be in love---'
'Yes, I'd rather be in love--'
'Oh, I'd rather be in love with you.'
'And I feel you holding me. . .'