Okay. So, I rewrote this whole story. Kept the basic outline, just edited a ton. I changed it to a first person point of view. I think it's much better now. Let me know what you think.(8
It all happened so fast I can't even remember it clearly.
Freddie and I had just polished off a record breaking two large pizzas at the new Italian joint across from the Groovy Smoothie and we were making our way home. I was high on the feeling of laughing all night and being with him. But something was off. Or, I guess, something wasn't off. That's what made it odd. As much as I hated to admit it, I was warming up to the dork. The thought frightened me and made me ridiculously happy all at once.
It was late when we finally stumbled into the lobby of Bushwell Plaza. Ignoring Lewbert's banshee screams, we clamored up the stairs, making our way to the eighth floor. Freddie tripped on the last stair and we tried to stifle our obnoxious laughter, failing miserably. I noticed that we had been holding hands for who knows how long. It made my heart beat erratically. Whoa. When did that happen?
"That was… really fun" Freddie muttered over a breathy laugh. This was starting to feel so much like a date, I couldn't breathe. Well, technically, it is a date, right? Breathe, Puckett, BREATHE.
"It was. I made a lot of progress tonight. I beat you in a pizza eating contest, the pool game, pinball, ping pong. Oh! And let's not forget the arm wrestle that resulted in you picking up the tab." I smiled a little when he rolled his eyes. He laughed, nervously, and I huffed out my signature sigh. "Well Fredweird, you better go inside before you're mommy worries herself to death. It's after eleven, I'm surprised she hasn't called the cops."
"Ah, but alas, my mom's out of town. She went to a convention for… I don't know, something stupid. Point is, I'm free for three more days."
"Nice. Enjoy it while you can. She'll be back before you know it." I rubbed my thumb against the back of his hand and I felt the muscles in his fingers tense.
He sighed dramatically "That's what I'm afraid of…" I began to giggle, and he started laughing. And then we were both laughing and snorting uncontrollably. I had all my weight on him. If he hadn't have been holding me up, I would have tumbled to the ground.
When the giggles died down, he released my hand to rub the back of his neck and look right into my eyes, as if he was expecting something. But what the dork was expecting, exactly, I didn't know
I saw him take a deep breath and mutter something to himself, but I still had no clue what he was planning. So when he took a step closer and leaned down in an action that looked an awful lot like the initiation of a kiss, I acted way before I could think. My eyes widened and I took two steps back, immediately regretting it. His eyes shot open, the look of rejection evident on his face, and I felt my heart shrivel with guilt, like someone was stomping on it. Holy shit. Samantha Puckett, you just rejected Fredward Benson. You probably broke the dork, he can't deal with rejection! Stupid, stupid Sam.
It was his turn to step back, and when he did, I reached out to grab his arm. "Wait Freddie I-"
He cut me off. "-You know, we are going out. Going out as in, you're my girlfriend and I'm you're boyfriend. And, we've been boyfriend and girlfriend for a few weeks, right? And, usually, girlfriends kiss their boyfriends. Or, I don't know, that's what the movies have taught me." I reluctantly let go of his wrist. He turned around and began the long process of unlocking his overly protected door.
"Come on Fred, it's not like that. It just… surprised me a little, that's all." I need him to turn around, because I hate talking to his back.
He didn't turn around. He kept his back to me. He spoke softly, "It seems like whenever I try to kiss you, there's always an excuse. You have a cold, or the flu, or the plague, or you're 'a little surprised'. I guess… .I'm just tired of excuses," He turned towards me, suddenly, "It's not that you're afraid to kiss me. I know you, Sam. It's more than that, much more." He turned around again. "But, to be honest, I don't plan on sticking around to find out what it is." He opened the door before I could respond, slamming it and leaving me alone in the hall. Just me, and the echo.
Truthfully, I felt like crying. I felt like curling up and bawling myself dry. I felt like pounding on his door, begging him to come out and hold my hand again.
But, realistically, I'm a Puckett, and women of the Puckett family never cry. So instead, I picked Carly's lock, walked inside, and collapsed on the couch.
Because that's how I deal with difficult situations. I sleep.
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