"I can't believe you did that for me." It was Rhonda. She was undoubtedly talking about him having "dumped" her. All so she could win back the favor of their peers. Why did she care so much about their opinions? It drove him mad.
She was at his back, and he was thankful for it.
A glaze of tears blurred his vision. Despite all the pain she'd put him through, and all the future pain she was sure to bring, he didn't want her to see him wounded. Hastily, he wiped away the tears and donned his Coke bottle glasses. The thick lenses doing a good job of concealing his eyes.
"I don't know what you're talking about." Curly offered casually. Not wanting to let on how much it killed him to even feign rejecting her.
"Oh, come on, Curly. Don't play dumb. I know you were putting on a show. You could never dump me. You're crazy about me." It was almost wicked of her to say such things. But Curly knew better. She was simply so indifferent to his feelings that she didn't realize her conceit. It sickened him, but he was still dying to please her. Even if all "pleasing" meant at this stage was allowing her to live in her ignorance. As much as he wanted to cry, as much as he wanted to once again profess his love, he didn't.
"That's true." He whispered unevenly. How could he deny she was right if he wanted to? Heartbroken or not, he found himself ever at his sweet Rhonda's mercy.
"Why'd you do it?" The armor-piercing question. The crossroads. Why did he "dump" her? Tell the truth? Tell her that he overheard her in the girl's bathroom? That she loathed even the idea of being his woman, or...
"Aw, I just felt sorry for ya." Yeah, play it big. Joke it up. Don the mask so she won't see. Because if she did, she might turn away completely. "A saucy dame like you with a guy like me."
"Well," she smiled playfully. "I appreciate it. For all your crazy stunts, maybe it's just how you show you care. You're an okay guy, Curly." It was genuinely pathetic. It took mere words and halfhearted offerings of kindness to lift his spirits. Anything better than her typical disgust with him had him beaming inside. His eyes still stung from tears, but it was a tolerable sting.
"Thanks, Rhonda... Now, can I have a lock of your hair?!" While he'd happily take her up on it if she obliged, it was subterfuge now. Play the role she expects, and resume status quo. A high note to a decent enough resolution. Some bickering on the surface, but friends beneath the veil. Even if it was a shaky friendship.
"Ugh! That is disgusting!"
"Is it? Or does it thrill you?!" Rhonda turned and ran, but he gave chase. Sprinting toward the setting sun, Curly heard something in her warnings to leave her be. It was eerily familiar, but it took a moment to place it. Maybe because he heard the sound so rarely from her.
His heart melted.
It was laughter.