It's been a hell of a Thanksgiving.
Given everything that happened today, I'm a little surprised that Chandler and I are curled up together in his bed. He seemed pretty pissed about the whole toe-lopping incident, even though it happened a million years ago. At some point, I need to teach Rachel how to take a hint that's a bit less subtle than, "I don't want to talk about it."
Not to mention that, for the first time, Chandler said that he loves me. So many things went through my mind at that moment. In hindsight, I don't think that he meant it the way that I wanted him to mean it, but he still panicked quite a bit over those three little words. It's always a little fun to watch him freak out over things, but for now, I've decided to drop it. I don't want a forced confession of love.
"I'm sorry I called you fat."
"Don't worry about it, Chandler. I was fat."
"But still…"
"It wasn't that you called me fat, you know. It was the whole, 'I don't want to be stuck here all night with your fat sister' that really hurt."
He winces. "Yeah, that seems pretty harsh."
"Look; I'd been overweight for years at that point. It wasn't exactly a secret. And I was pretty used to the way people treated me, though being friends with Rachel helped alleviate some of that. But then Ross showed up with his super-cute roommate—"
Naturally, that's the part he picks up on. "You thought I was super-cute?"
I continue as if he's said nothing. "And I just had this instant crush on you. When I heard Ross say that you might be at home with me all evening, I had about two seconds where I was more excited than I'd ever been. I mean, I was going to be alone with you. Then you said…that. It felt like my heart had been ripped out."
"I am so, so—"
"You don't have to keep apologizing, Chandler. It was a long time ago. I was seventeen years old; everything was a crisis at that age. I was also actually really overweight. But because of that one moment, I decided I was going to lose the weight. Maybe it was for the wrong reasons at moment, but it was still a good thing."
He wiggles his toes and I can tell he's trying to lighten the mood a bit. "Yes, well, it's not the same as losing a—"
"Oh, God, it's not like I cut it off on purpose. The knife fell and hit your toe. I didn't grab your foot and hack away at it."
"Still…all because you wanted revenge."
"Of course I wanted revenge! You hurt me, and I wanted to hurt you. That doesn't make it right, but I needed to retaliate. Cutting off your toe was not how I wanted it to go."
"And what was the original plan again?"
I roll my eyes and sigh. "Really? You need me to say it again?" The look he gives me speaks volumes. "Fine. I wanted to seduce you. I wanted you to think we were going to have sex so that I could get you naked and lock you outside and laugh at you."
"Classy."
"Really? From the guy in the Miami Vice summer suit and wicker shoes? Besides, if I'd been able to pull off the seduction, it would have worked."
"Yeah, what was that, anyway?"
"Well, I wasn't exactly great at that stuff yet. It wasn't something that I'd ever tried to do. Up to that point, my only goal with the weight loss was to make you drool. Which worked, I might add. I was just a little too literal with Rachel's lesson about being turned on by everything around me."
"You know," he says thoughtfully, turning his body a bit more into mine, and that's when I know he's finally done trying to make me suffer for this one. "If you'd grabbed only the carrots and played with those, I probably would have been naked in your kitchen."
"Really?"
"Hell yeah! That would have been incredibly phallic and so hot! Though, I guess if I'm being honest, even with all the awkwardness, I probably would have been into it."
"Now you're just screwing with me."
"No seriously. Hot girl hitting on me? That would do it."
"You're so shallow."
"I was a kid! I was incredibly horny all the time! And yes, I was very shallow. But I can promise you, if I'd bothered to get to know you at all the year before, I would have been getting naked with that Monica, too."
I don't think my eyes could roll any further back in my head. "No you wouldn't."
"Oh, really?" He pulls back a little so he can look me in the eye. "Did the weight loss make you a different person? Or were you the same incredible girl from one year to the next? I've spent years getting to know you, and you've always been amazing. Even shallow, nineteen-year-old me would have seen that if I'd only bothered to speak to you."
I lean up to give him a quick kiss. "You're awfully sweet for someone missing a toe."
"Eh, it's only the tip."
"Can we put that in writing? That way you can't hold it against me for the rest of my life?"
"Yeah, we'll go get it notarized first thing in the morning."
We're silent for few moments; personally, I'm trying to process this new information. "So…what do you think would have happened that night? I mean, say if I hadn't been out for blood, and you weren't such a shallow jerk?"
"Easy. I would have been all over you. Since subtlety isn't my strong suit, it's most likely that your brother or father would have kicked me out before anything could happen, but I would have been waaaaay into you."
A big smile spread across my face. Even though it had been ten years, it was nice to know that he felt that way. "Okay, say my parents were too involved with talking about Ross and his life to notice you hitting on me. What then?"
"Well, I would have spent time with you in the kitchen while you made mac and cheese, shamelessly and horribly hitting on you because that was my original plan."
"The upside is that I wouldn't have known it was horrible because I didn't get hit on a whole lot, so you probably would have been doing all right."
"But, hopefully, during that, I would have actually gotten to know you a bit. And then, maybe, we'd sit next to each at dinner so we could talk some more and trade sarcastic remarks. After dinner, when Ross was on the phone with Carol all night and Rachel had gone home, we could have spent more time together and then I probably would have awkwardly hit on you."
"What would you have done?" I'm wildly intrigued by this little game of "what if?" we're playing.
"Hard to say. Maybe something about how it must have hurt when you fell out of heaven, or how your dress was very becoming on you and if I were on you, I'd be—"
I cut him off, groaning. "Got it."
"Or maybe even this one—'Want to play house? You can be the screen door and I'll bang you all night.'"
"That's…impressive. Did any girl ever fall for that one?"
"Not even the really drunk ones."
"Still. Points for bravery."
"Thanks. I probably would have tried the yawn/stretch/arm around your shoulders thing, too."
"That would have actually worked on me."
"Seriously?"
"Definitely."
"So when I then reached over and stuck my tongue in your mouth with absolutely no finesse, you would have been cool with it?"
"I'm sorry to say."
"Nice!"
"Don't get too cocky, Flock Of Seagulls."
"Hey, it's just nice to know that my weak game would have worked on someone."
I shrug. "Yeah, well, not to stroke your ego too much, but your weak game has been working on me for months now."
"Don't even get me started on that one. If I think too hard about that, I'll really have to question your sanity."
I choose to ignore that, and instead shift on top of him and play with the elastic on his boxer shorts, hoping to step this game up a notch. "So let's pretend all of the odds were in your favor that night and we wound up naked. You think we would have done it?"
His arms come up and wrap around my back, pulling me closer. "Oh, hell yeah. And it would have been the most horrible, awkward...wonderful thing ever."
Leaning in to kiss him, I say, "I think I could have handled you being my first."
We kiss for some time, finally getting a chance to really enjoy each other after being surrounded by our friends all day. When our lips finally part so we can get some much-needed air, Chandler whispers, "Full disclosure: You would have been my first, too. Hence why it would have been horrible and awkward."
"Maybe. Or maybe it could have been really great."
"It's sweet that you think that, and I love that you're such a romantic, but I can promise you I would not have been good."
"If you say so. But we've been pretty great at sex this whole time, so we could have been an exception."
He just smirks at me and pulls my lips back to his, probably figuring it wasn't worth it to argue with me, especially not when I was in the mood to put out.
Okay, so maybe Chandler wasn't my first. But I think I'm okay with him being my last.
But I think it'll be a while before I mention that to him.