Caitlyn Gellar hated pretending. She hated it because it always involved coming back to reality at some point, and reality was usually a letdown.
Nate Grey was the perfect neighbor everyone wanted. He washed his car, using very little water and soap, and he never failed to water the rosebushes of his neighbors while he was at it. Those flowers got more care from him than they did from their actual owner. He always picked up his mail, never leaving it hanging precariously, and annoyingly, from the mailbox to rustle in any breeze that might decide to come by. He always walked his dog by himself, always cleaning up after it as well, abolishing one more pet peeve for the neighbors on the block, and he even offered to walk the dog of a bedridden elderly lady down the street, free of charge. He never partied (no matter what anyone said, that was totally his brothers' faults) and he refused to let his music blare out so that the people walking by could here it. That also was his brothers' faults. But the worst thing, the pet peeve that nothing he did or said could ever be abolished, was the fact that he had lived in that house since he was born, and Caitlyn Gellar lived right beside him.
Why was it that when you grew up next to someone, they automatically seemed to strike you from the list of possible dates they would later want when the reached the dicey age of sixteen and on? Just because you used to run around and play like the boys? Or was it the fact that your true colors had shown too often (though his had as well) and he couldn't bear the thought of being anything more than friends? Whatever it was, Caitlyn couldn't figure it out. The one person she had dared hope and dream about, the one person that let her be her quirky, brainy self without laughing or finding fault in her, seemed to be the blindest person in the world. Nate was the one who made her feel that she didn't have to be tough if she didn't want to be. She didn't have to do anything she didn't want to do, as far as he was concerned, because he was the one that told her over and over again, "You have nothing to prove."
"Life stinks," Caitlyn muttered as all these thoughts ran through her head, not for the first time, as she lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. "Adolescence stinks. Love stinks." She paused, rethinking everything she had muttered. "Yup, life pretty much stinks."
There was a tap on her window and Caitlyn rolled over, not surprised as all. With these houses where she and Nate lived having been literally mass produced, there was really only a large-step-distance between her bedroom window and his bedroom window. Often times, they would clamber over onto the other's roof, wanting to talk, and because they were such great friends, the other would obediently get out of bed, or drop whatever they were doing, and join them on the roof for a chat. But this time, she didn't want to chat. She hadn't wanted to chat since Nate had seemed to be uncomfortable around her. He'd started shying away, blushing easier, and Caitlyn was worried that she had unintentionally started to embarrass him.
With a groan, and a whole lot more effort than she felt was worth it, Caitlyn pulled herself off the bed and strode to the window, flinging it open with a tad bit more force than necessary. "Yes?" she asked politely, not in her usual, cheery way.
Nate seemed startled by her coolness, and he brushed it off soon enough and asked, "Could we talk for a sec?"
"Caitlyn! Dinner!" her mom called from down the stairs.
Nate closed his eyes, disappointment written clearly on his face, and in that moment, Caitlyn saw part of what was bothering him. He was afraid of being rejected if he left her now. She had allowed him to talk, and he was afraid that he might not get that chance again. "Will you talk with me later?" he asked, his voice sounding small and uncertain, as though he was preparing himself for her to say no, all the while hoping that she would say yes.
Caitlyn hesitated for a moment before she nodded slightly and said, "Sure."
Nate looked unconvinced. "Promise?" he asked, and Caitlyn noticed that he had positioned his hands along the window frame so that she couldn't close the window on him and tune him out. She hated his brilliance sometimes. It was turning out to be most inconvenient.
"I promise," she said, slightly irritated. There had never been this mistrust before in their "relationship," if you could call it that. What they said was what they did, and the other wasn't supposed to doubt what was said.
"So when you're finished with dinner," he persisted, "we can talk out on the roof."
"Yes, Nate," she agreed, getting even more annoyed. "Would you like me to sign it in blood as well?"
He grinned at that, refusing to be intimidated by her tartness. "No," he told her, taking his hands off the window ledge. "I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself." With that, he turned and left, leaving Caitlyn standing there, wishing that the dinner hour could stretch longer than that. Maybe she could have third helpings!
Nate was waiting for her right where he said he would be, twisted in a careful fashion so as to not fall off the roof. "You're late," he remarked, checking his watch casually.
Caitlyn looked startled for a moment before she came up with a tart enough reply. "I didn't know I was being timed."
Nate glanced at her dryly, rolling his eyes. "You always spend fourty-seven minutes at the table, no more, no less. Tonight, you spent sixty-seven." He leaned forward so that he could prop his elbows on his knees. "What about talking to me is so terrible that you had to waste twenty minutes at that horrid dinner table?" He actually looked hurt.
Caitlyn's heart melted for a moment and then steeled it once again. "You know, with anyone else, I would say that was beyond stalkerish." She knew that she spent exactly the time he had indicated, and she knew that he spent sixty-five minutes approximately at the table every night, but she really didn't want to admit that she had been putting off talking to him.
"It's not stalkerish, and you know it," he accused darkly. "Caity, why won't you talk to me anymore? Did I do something wrong?"
Caitlyn shook her head. "No," she said softly. "Not really."
Nate raised his eyebrows. "Not really?" Almost instantly, Caitlyn regretted using that choice of words. "Then what little bit did I do wrong?"
Caitlyn shook her head angrily. "Nothing."
Nate snorted. "That's hard to believe. I appreciate your faith in me, but I'm not an angel, Caity."
You're my angel. The words flashed through her mind so quickly that she barely had time to register the content. "I think you are," she said without thinking.
His head snapped up, but his eyes couldn't meet hers due to the massive amount of hair that she had shoved in front of her face to hide her embarrassment. "Really?" he asked, in a soft tone that she hadn't been expecting at all.
Caitlyn looked up at him, confused, before she asked quietly, "Would it bother you if I said yes?" She clenched her hands, knowing that she was putting their entire relationship as friends on the line by expressing her pent up feelings.
Nate, though, just smiled and even let out a chuckle. "No," he told her. "Actually, it would make me very, very happy."
And in that moment, Caitlyn realized that her worrying had been for nothing. Nate was not embarrassed by her, he was attracted to her. A smile flittered across her face as she said, "Then I would be very happy too." Their "relationship" just might turn into a relationship without the quotation marks.
A/N: Hoped you liked it! :D Please review and tell me what you think!