Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VIII

Phone Call

"So what's on the agenda next, chief?" Selphie asked merrily.

"Actually, that's it."

"That's it?" she echoed. "All done? We've finished?"

"We've finished! It took a while, but we've finally finished!"

The crowd of students began to cheer and dance at the news. It was so hard to believe that after six long years of work, Trabia Garden was finally fully rebuilt. Selphie yelled in excitement with everyone else as the celebration began. Music played and people rejoiced at their triumph. All in all it ended up being one heck of a party. The only thing Selphie could remember thinking as she returned to her room that night was that they might have to rebuild the Garden all over again in the morning after that blowout.

The following morning Selphie took it upon herself to double check the work that had been done in a few of her favorite areas. Many of the students told her over and over again that the repairs were up to code and there was nothing to worry about, but she persisted with a smile on her face. It was not until one of her former teachers spoke with her that she began to settle down.

"You know, we have you to thank for most of the progress we've made in the last two years," her teacher said. "It really surprised us when you showed up out of the blue that day ready to help out. No one else has put in anywhere near as much effort as you have."

"I couldn't just let it stay in ruins like that," Selphie replied. "Too many memories here to hold onto."

"What're you going to do now that we're finished? Gonna head back to Balamb? I bet your friends there miss you."

"Nah," Selphie said, shaking her head. "I think I'm gonna stick around for a while. Maybe permanently."

"Really now?"

"Yeah!" Selphie grinned. "Why not?"

"There's no one back at Balamb Garden you would miss?"

"Sure, I guess," Selphie replied. "But this was my home after the orphanage."

After parting ways with her old teacher, Selphie made her way to the quad. The number of students there was surprisingly few. Apparently there was still a big party going on in the cafeteria and almost everyone was there. Being alone was giving her time to think. Something she was not happy about in the slightest.

"This sucks," she said. "This totally suckity-suck-suck-sucks."

Thanks to her teacher, her mind drifted back to Balamb Garden. The one place she did not want it to be. First she would end up thinking of Squall and Rinoa and wonder how the two of them were doing. Was Squall messing things up with his super emo powers? Was Rinoa getting him to open up a bit more? Then she would start to think of Zell and his little girlfriend at the library. No doubt he was being his usual ridiculous, goober self. And Quisty was probably doing well for herself. She was almost always planning ahead and trying to take charge of things. Inevitably though, Selphie's mind would think of him.

Four years. Two years ago marked the end of four years with him. She did not want to think of him now. That was the whole reason she had left Balamb to return to Trabia anyway. To get away from him. To stop thinking of him. To stop hurting so much. She figured that if she kept herself busy enough with the repairs to Trabia Garden, then she wouldn't have time to think about that cowboy. Now what was she going to do?

So it went for two weeks straight. Every time Selphie found herself with nothing to do, she would think of him. She tried everything from everyday chores to missions to try to get him off of her mind, but the man was relentless! He would not leave her alone! It was almost like he was actually there pestering her like he used to do.

"Stop it already," she mumbled to herself at lunch one day.

"Stop what?" her friends asked her.

"Oh, nothing," she smiled. "I was just thinking was all."

"Thinking about what?"

"Nothing important," she continued smiling.

"Hey, Selphie!" someone called from the cafeteria entrance. The boy was holding up a bright yellow cell phone. "You left your phone in the quad again! And it's ringing!"

Selphie scooted between tables and darted to the door before opening the cell and pressing it to her ear. Fighting to catch her breath, she put on her happy voice before mentally kicking herself for not looking at the caller ID first.

"Hey hey! Selphie here, who's this?"

"Sephie?"

She almost dropped the phone. There was only one person who still called her that. Only one person with that voice. Her breath caught in her chest and her throat suddenly felt very dry. She just stood there, holding the phone and not saying a word.

"Are you there?"

"I'm here," she replied softly.

"Thanks for answering," he said. He did not sound like he was being sarcastic. In fact, he sounded genuinely grateful. "How are you doing?"

"I'm okay," she said. Her feet began to move on their own. They obviously thought that this conversation was better to be had in her room where it could be kept a little more private. "How are things with you?"

"Good," he told her. "I guess. I wanted to say congratulations on finishing your work up there."

"How do you know about that?" she asked.

"Word gets around," he replied. "I hear you played a big part."

"I just did what I could."

It was so weird. The conversation just started to carry itself. He told her how the others were doing and about some of the funnier things that Zell had managed to do to irritate his girlfriend. He would laugh as he spoke to her, and she would find herself laughing too. For two years she had been trying not to think about him and now they were talking on the phone as if nothing had ever changed. He had not even tried calling her when she left her runaway note saying that she was going to Trabia. Why was he calling her now? Why did he sound so different than usual? As the conversation slowed, she thought about this more and more, and it troubled her.

"What's going on, Irvine?" she asked him.

"You remember a couple years ago," he began after a pause, "how the inn at Balamb opened up that little restaurant? How we'd go there every time the Garden went through the area."

"I remember," she said gently.

"And we'd walk on the beach together. You'd take off your boots and then make me take off mine. You'd always say how good the water and sand felt between your toes."

"That was a long time ago, Irvine."

"No it wasn't," she heard him smile. "You want a long time ago, think about that roller coaster at the fair that came by Matron's orphanage."

"That squeaky thing?" Selphie heard herself laugh in reply. "That really was a long time ago. We were what, seven? Eight?"

"You laughed at me when I started getting scared in line."

"I laughed even harder when you screamed on the ride."

"You always got me to do things I didn't want to do," he told her. "Like when I first got to the orphanage. Remember how I wouldn't talk to anyone? Not even Sis? I just acted like the tough loner who didn't need any friends. The only one who knew better was you. I tried to tell you to leave me alone. Tried saying mean things and calling you names. You just stood there and listened to me while I got madder and madder.

"Then you hugged me. Knocked me for a loop when you did it too. I didn't have to tell you what had happened. We were all there for the same reason. It wasn't 'til you hugged me though that I finally let it all out. My dad was dead. You just kept hugging me and I bawled like a baby."

"Why are you saying all this?" Selphie asked as her eyes teared up.

"I'm sorry," she heard him say. He sounded like he was ready to cry too. "I've tried, Sephie. I swear I've tried, but I can't stop thinking about you. I know we weren't perfect but what is, you know? You're a part of me that I can't let go of."

"We tried that," Selphie said, now feeling the tears on her cheeks. "Remember what happened?"

"No," he answered. "I know that I made mistakes. We both did. But for the life of me I can't remember what was so bad that we let it all go."

"I don't want to make the same mistakes again, Irvy," she said. "Don't you remember the fighting?"

"I remember getting upset over nothing," he said. "Stupid stuff like what to do on our dates. Or whose turn it was to do laundry. Me not picking up after myself. You leaving your magazines and festival plans on the table."

"Irvine . . ."

"Selphie, I've never in my life been as happy as I was when I was arguing with you. I still love you, Selphie."

She was wiping away the steady flow of tears now. It was all well and good if he loved her, and she knew that she still loved him. The problem was getting over the mistakes that they had made. Doing something that hurt and then doing it again thinking it would be different was just not something Selphie did.

"I can't do it again," she said. "I can't make the same mistakes."

"I can't promise we won't make mistakes, but I can promise that we'll learn from the old ones," he said. "Isn't the happiness we had worth trying to get back again? Was all the petty crap really enough to make us just give up? Don't you think that we're worth giving another shot? Cause I ain't giving up that feeling just cause sometimes I don't wanna fold laundry."

She laughed through her tears. It was a funny way of putting it, but she knew that he was trying to be serious. The thought of repeating the same mistakes scared her, but the thought of being happy was just as strong. The thought of being with him again. The thought of being able to make it work.

"Are you serious?" she asked. "Like seriously serious?"

"Why don't you tell me if you think I'm serious?"

She tried to answer, but someone started knocking on her door. She shook it off and tried to ignore whoever it was, but they pounded every time she started to speak to him. Her thoughts were getting to jumbled up to form a sentence. She carried the phone with her from her bed to the door and was prepared to tell whoever it was to go skinny dipping in the snow. She pulled the door open and there he was.

His long coat swaying at the heels of his boots. His tall frame standing in her doorway. His beautiful eyes were red from the tears that stained his cheeks. His hand still holding the phone that was connected to hers. Slowly, they both lowered their receivers and just stared at each other. He held out his hand and with a desperate kind of hope in his eyes he did his best to smile for her.

"We still have a choice," he said.

All of her fears were so trivial compared to the feeling that beat within her heart at that moment. No longer trying to hold back what she had been bottling up since he called, she began to sob openly as she threw her arms around him and he held her.

Yes, they had made mistakes.

No, they were not perfect.

Still, the happiness that they shared even when they were arguing was more than enough to fight for.

A/N: Inspired by Tim McGraw's "Why We Said Goodbye."