Not sure where this came from.

Enjoy!


Disclaimer: Not mine!



Funny Thing

---------------------------------------

"I think it's pretty clear, then, don't you, Macy?" Stella leveled the lithe athlete with a serious stare.

Macy's mouth was open, twisted slightly as if someone had just told her the Pope had been caught kicking puppies, and she gazed blindly at the wall beyond Stella's shoulder, as if the Ghost of Christmas Past stood just behind her. "I… I guess so." She looked at her best friend then, that shell-shocked expression still on her usually happy face. "What am I supposed to do, Stella?"

She smiled at her, a swelling of pride, happiness, and a little wistful sadness rising in her heart. "Well, you could try letting him in on it, Mace. That's usually how you get these things started."

Macy blinked and closed her mouth, though she still looked as if somebody had knocked the wind out of her. She nodded slowly, set her jaw, and sighed, as if coming to grips with an inevitable and potentially disastrous truth.

"Alright, then. I suppose I will."

--------------------

The door burst open, smacking against the wall with a heavy thud, and Stella looked up - startled - from the shirt she had been working on.

Macy stumbled into her best-friend's room, gripping onto the doorknob for dear life with one hand, the other pressed hard over her mouth, making her wide brown eyes stand out starkly against her tanned skin.

"Macy?" Stella called her friend's name for her attention, alarm rising as her eyes snapped up to the blonde as if she were surprised to see her there. Stella stood up from the stool in front of her worktable. "Mace, you alright?"

She let go of the door and slapped both hands over her mouth, as if trying to shut away the strange gurgle she emitted. She took a few steps forward and stumbled on a book that had been lying on the floor.

Stella steadied her and Macy leaned her forehead against Stella's shoulder, and she realized the slight shoulder of the little brunette was shaking. "Macy?" she asked again, starting to really worry.

Little gasping giggles escaped between her fingers, and she took hold of her by the shoulders and stood her back a bit, peering with grave consideration into her face. "I… oh, gods and angels… oh, God, Stella, I almost…" She broke off in a fit of weird, tittery laughter, and the blonde stylist eyed her friend nervously.

"Macy, what is going on? Did something happen?" She shook her friend a little.

Macy looked up at her best friend and let one hand fall to the side, but kept the fingertips of her other hand pressed against lips curved in a tight, wobbly smile. "Kevin—he…"

Stella's confusion, and a funny sense of dread, increased. "Kevin, what? What about Kevin?"

Macy laughed again; a short, sharp burst that ended in a squeak. It was between little gasps and giggles that she told Stella she'd gone to the atrium to try to get Kevin alone for a talk. "He and Sara Mitchell… heehee… they were talking—" snicker, snort "—talking about ducks… and I… he put… he put his arm—oh gods, it's so stupid, so funny—he put his arm around her…" She laughed loudly again, raggedly. "And… And I… Stella, I almost… I almost told—told him… I…"

Her ragged laughter softened. "It's so f… f-funny… so stupid…" She leaned her head against the blonde's shoulder again, and after a moment, Stella realized her friend wasn't laughing anymore. Macy was crying.

Stella wrapped her arms loosely around her little heartbroken best friend's quaking shoulders, stroked her hair, and murmured soothing, meaningless words as she cried, and wished she were laughing instead.

Even though it wasn't funny. At all.


Sometimes I need to remind myself that love isn't always sunshine and happy-endings.

I hope you enjoyed this little drabble.