Someone Like You
Chapter 1
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I sincerely apologize for how many stories I have going, and for lack of updates (ya know, this whole grad school thing takes up a lot of time. A. lot.). Also, I seem to have some major story ADD/horrid writer's block going on at the moment. I know where all of my stories are going, but, ack, nothing comes out right when I do get the chance to sit down and write. And I have all of these ideas ping-ponging around in my head, and I've been writing this story for months without posting, not wanting to have ANOTHER story going, buuut…
I want to post it. So, I am. There's a good chance (HUGE chance) this will be complete before I update any of my other stories (sorry!), since this is going to be short and sweet (short meaning less than 10 chapters, haven't decided exact splitting points for chapters yet). Reviews are much appreciated, as always. :)
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Fall 1997
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Chandler nearly gasped, feeling the wind, quite literally, knocked from his lungs as he was so caught off-guard by the sight of her, only a few tables away at the coffee shop he was in. He had come in to kill some time before his next interview, the reason he was back in town, and he was in no way prepared to deal with a run-in with such an important person from his past. He studied her for a moment, beautiful as ever, though older now, before turning his attention to the man across from her, the one he assumed was the one he had heard she was going to marry. He watched for a few moments as the two spoke back and forth across the table, smiling, sipping their coffees. When she laughed at something he said, Chandler's throat tightened, that having been his role for so long.
It had been too long now for him to admit that a part of him still missed that. This shouldn't hurt. Seeing her, it shouldn't hurt. He had long ago moved past her, and yet….
Chandler took a drink of the coffee in front of him, watching as the man stood and headed towards the restroom. Closing the screen of his laptop and sliding it back into his briefcase, Chandler didn't even allow a moment for himself to pause, getting up before he had time to think through what he was about to do.
What the hell did he have to lose, anyway?
Slinging his bag over his shoulder as he stood up, Chandler walked straight towards her table. She looked up as he neared, coming to a stop in front of her. Surprise was evident on her face, followed by a smile and slight softening in her expression, a look that had once been reserved for him and him alone and sent his mind and emotions racing through the past.
She opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it, shaking her head in disbelief; it had been years.
Scuffing his foot slightly, Chandler smiled. "Hey, Mon," he finally whispered.
Monica smiled a bit wider at that, again shaking her head, still at a lack of how to respond. "Hey."
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Spring 1989
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Chandler stared across the crowded party at Ross's sister, Monica. He followed her disgusted gaze to a corner, where Rachel was making out with some random guy. Looking back at Monica, her arms wrapped around herself as she clutched her red plastic cup, he couldn't help but smile at her uncertainty, seeming entirely unsure of herself since she had now been ditched by her friend at a party where she knew virtually no one else.
He fought himself, not sure whether or not to go over to her. There was something somewhat intimidating about her now, since she had lost all of that weight and was ridiculously hot and undoubtedly out of his league. However, she was the same girl who, despite a lack of reason for 'how' and 'why,' had managed to chop off the end of his toe only months earlier.
This event somewhat leveled the playing field.
Sweeping his vision across the scene in front of him, which seemed to be overly dominated by couples at the moment, including Ross and Carol, he decided the worst thing that could come from talking to Monica would be for her to blow him off, and he had experienced far worse than being blown off by a pretty girl. Taking a deep breath, he finally made his way over to her, enough alcohol having been consumed to give him the courage to do so.
"Hey," he smiled at her.
"Hey," Monica almost managed to force a smile in return.
"How are you?" he asked, the phrase sounding awkward and forced, even to him.
"Awesome," Monica replied sarcastically with a matching eye roll, looking around the party as she turned away from him.
Chandler nodded. "Me, too." Awkward silence between them again ensued, Monica still facing away from him, arms crossed in front of her, staring solemnly across the crowded room. "Hey, um, want to get out of here?" Monica turned towards him, eyebrows raised, shaking her head and about to protest what she thought was his attempt at an advance, when Chandler realized what that must have sounded like to her. "N-no. No. Not me hitting on you," he shook his head fiercely. "No. God no."
"Well you don't have to sound so disgusted by the idea," Monica finally looked at him.
"No, it's not that, it's just…I sleep about eight feet away from your brother, so he could easily murder me in my sleep," Chandler smiled, and was relieved when Monica returned it. "This party's just lame, so, wanna go do something else? There's that midnight movie on campus? I don't remember what's playing, but-"
"Yea, sure," Monica nodded, more than eager to get out of there. "Being anywhere but here would be great." Monica paused, looking over to where Ross and Carol were now making out. "Really, really great."
Chandler laughed at her reaction to that, setting his drink down on a nearby table as Monica followed suit, following him out.
"Hey, um, sorry about your toe," Monica finally apologized once they were through the door and in the hallway.
"Don't worry about it," Chandler shrugged it off, not wanting to have that inevitably awkward conversation.
"Don't worry about it? I cut off your toe," Monica emphasized as Chandler held open the door for her, and the two headed outside.
"Can I introduce you like that, by the way? 'Hey, this is Monica. She cut off my toe…'" he joked, and Monica laughed in response. Chandler smiled at that; she was fun to make laugh.
"Is it supposed to rain?" Monica looked up at the sky as the thunder that had been rumbling in the distance seemed to be coming closer.
Chandler looked up, then down at the sidewalk, where a few sprinkles had already left their mark on the pavement. He nodded, quickening his pace as the large raindrops began to fall faster. "I would say there is a one-hundred-percent chance that it is raining," he laughed, the two of them taking off running down the street back towards the dorms. They were both laughing, soaked, as they ducked into the lobby.
"Party seem a lot less lame now?" Monica raised her eyebrows, wondering if he regretted leaving with her yet.
Chandler smiled. "I don't know what you're talking about; I love a good sprint through the rain."
Monica returned his smile, the two now stationary, still in the lobby. "So, I'm guessing that movie in the park was cancelled?"
"Probably," Chandler nodded, pausing for a moment. "Wanna hang out for awhile? Or are you in a hurry to head home tonight?"
Monica shook her head. "Not in any hurry. I told my parents I'm staying with Rachel."
Chandler smiled slightly at that, heading towards the elevators, hitting the up button. "There's this group of people on my floor who, I'm pretty sure, does nothing but watches movies in the lounge on the weekends. It sounds kinda lame, but," Chandler shrugged.
Monica shrugged, also. "I'm pretty sure I'm pretty lame, so sounds good."
Chandler laughed, smiling at Monica and stepping out of the way as the elevator reached the ground floor, a group of rather loud guys stepping out.
"Bing!" Chandler and Monica both turned around as someone shouted Chandler's name.
"Hey, Gandalf," Chandler replied as he stepped away from the group.
"What are you doing tonight? There's this party just down the street. Wanna come?"
Chandler shrugged, holding the elevator door open with his hand. "Just got back. I think we're just gonna hang out here."
Gandalf shrugged. "Suit yourself. If you change your mind, it's in the same building Donny lives in, but the seventh floor."
Chandler nodded, Gandalf taking off after his friends.
"You could go to the party if you want," Monica shrugged casually as they stepped onto the elevator.
Chandler shook his head as the door closed. "I'm good," he replied, watching as she shivered. "Want something dry to change into? A sweatshirt or something?"
"Sure," Monica nodded, finding, for some reason, that she was happy that he was choosing hanging out with her over going to the party, when only half an hour earlier she had dreaded him coming over to talk to her. Maybe she had judged him a little too harshly.
The two stepped off the elevator, heading down the hallway to Chandler and Ross's dorm room. Chandler unlocked the door, letting Monica in.
Monica laughed, pointing to the corner. "Ross's damn air purifier."
"You're telling me," Chandler flicked on the lights, heading for his small closet. He pulled out two sweatshirts, handing one of Monica.
Monica motioned for him to turn around so she could change, so he did so, and Monica turned away from him, as well, peeling off her wet shirt before pulling on the dry NYU sweatshirt he had handed to her. When she turned back around, she found that he had changed, too.
"Hey, um, do you have sweatpants or gym shorts or something I could borrow, too?" Monica asked quietly. "Wet jeans might be the worst thing ever."
"Yea, sure," Chandler replied, going over to his dresser and pulling a pair out, handing it to her. He shrugged, reaching for a pair for himself as he turned back away from her so she could change. "There's actually a laundry room on this floor if you want to go throw your clothes in a dryer," Chandler suggested.
"Sure," Monica replied, walking over to where he was standing after changing into the sweatpants that were entirely too big for her. "Thanks, Chandler."
Chandler smiled at the way she said her name, turning back to face her. "You're welcome, Monica." Monica found herself smiling back when he smiled; she had definitely judged him too quickly.
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After taking their wet clothes to the laundry room, Chandler and Monica headed down the hallway towards the lounge, Chandler carrying a blanket he had brought with, explaining how it was always freezing in there.
Chandler smiled when they reached the lounge, glad the familiar group of guys from his floor and girls from the next floor up were, as expected, watching a movie.
"Hey."
"Hey, Chandler."
They were greeted in whispers by a couple of people already sitting around in the lounge, a few people squished on each of the two couches, and a couple more seated on the ground, propped up on pillows and blankets.
"Hey," Chandler replied, looking at the screen, which was playing Dirty Dancing. "The girls win tonight?" A couple of the guys groaned slightly in response to that. Chandler paused momentarily, realizing their choices for seating were either an empty loveseat or the floor. Taking his chances, he headed towards the loveseat. "I'll introduce you later, you know, try out the whole, 'This is Monica, she cut off my toe' thing," he whispered, leaning closer to Monica, who laughed loudly at that, following him. "They take their movie watching very seriously."
"Shh!" They were shushed by one of the girls on the floor, and Chandler gave Monica a look to say she had just proved his point.
Chandler sat down on the loveseat, glad Monica didn't even hesitate before sitting beside him. He offered her some of the blanket, and she accepted, glad he had brought it with because it was as cold as he had said it would be.
Monica found it hard to concentrate on the movie, though (though she had seen it multiple times before), more concerned with every move Chandler made beside her. They had both adjusted several times so that she was cuddled up beside him, his arm draped around the back of the chair around her. It was warm sitting that close to him, and he smelled good, and she found her heart fluttered slightly in her chest every time he moved, a different body part brushing against her.
Chandler moved again, this time moving his arm from around her, finding the courage to seek out her fingers below the blanket with his own. As her fingers curled around his, he smiled in silent victory, also more concerned with her than the movie they were watching. He rested his cheek against her hair and felt her inhale sharply, unsure of what his next move would be. As Monica leaned more heavily against his chest, Chandler found himself caught between wishing the movie would go on forever so he could stay here like this, and wishing it would just end already, so he could see what was going to happen after.
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"I really liked third grade," Monica nodded, now alone with Chandler in the lounge, everyone else having slowly turned in after the movie ended and they had collectively decided there was nothing worth watching on TV. The lights were still turned off, TV on, but volume down low.
Chandler laughed, now facing her, though they were still seated in the loveseat. "How do you separate one year of elementary school out from the rest enough to remember really liking it? How is thrid grade any different than second or fourth?"
Monica shrugged. "It was just a really awesome year. You know, you're old enough to have pretty accurate memories, but young enough to where everyone still got along and was friends..."
Chandler again laughed, nodding slightly. "I'll buy it."
Monica smiled at him, the blue light of the television playing off of their faces, and she wasn't sure if it was that, but she could swear-
And then he kissed her. He leaned forward, lips pressing against hers, fingers intertwined still beneath the blanket. And she kissed back, leaning closer to him as he pulled his fingers away from hers, moving his hands to her back as her hands landed softly against his chest.
They broke apart momentarily, sharing a look that made a unanimous, silent decision to head back to his room.
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Fall 1997
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"Hey, Mon," Chandler whispered, and all Monica could do in response to that was smile at the affectionate nickname, shaking her head.
"Hey," she replied softly, trying to remember the last time she had even seen him.
That was a lie she was telling herself, though; of course she remembered the last time she had seen him.
"How-how are you?" he asked slowly, stumbling over his words.
"Good," Monica nodded. "You?"
"Good," Chandler replied, sitting down beside her. "Look," he leaned closer to her, across the table, "I know this isn't the time or the place for this, but I've been wanting to have this conversation for almost five years now, so, hey, why the hell not," he shrugged, pausing when he realized her other half was coming back. Monica looked back up, following Chandler's gaze.
"Chandler," Monica began slowly, motioning to the man now standing beside her. "This is Richard."